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Meh
Well, the expected news from work came. They're looking to cut back on freelance hours. I'm not surprised. That just means I have to find a way to actually support myself now. Blech.
I'm not much of a writer, but I've been missing my brother quite a bit lately and that seems to have channeled itself into an military based SGA drabble. Marines need love too.
It's not wise to question orders - you realized that on your first day in basic. You do what you're told and you keep your mouth shut.
You were never good at school, but you are a damn good marine. It felt like home the first time you slid your fingers around the cool metal of the gun, cradling its weight and doing what you were meant to do. You loved it and you're not sure if that's such a bad thing.
Your unit functioned perfectly in training; each member knew their place. Knew what they had to do. You ate together, laughed together and you were going to go that shit hole of a country together. You aren't looking forward to the sand.
In the end, your unit went, but you weren't with them. You needn't have worried about being surrounded by deserts of sand halfway around the world. Instead you're surrounded by an ocean of water and instead of being in a different country you're in a different galaxy.
You deal though, there's always the sweet familiarity of the gun in your hand and the companionship of your new unit. The only thing you have to deal with besides enemies you couldn’t even conceive of the month before and finicky scientists that don't do what they're told is your massively expanded worldview.
I'm not much of a writer, but I've been missing my brother quite a bit lately and that seems to have channeled itself into an military based SGA drabble. Marines need love too.
It's not wise to question orders - you realized that on your first day in basic. You do what you're told and you keep your mouth shut.
You were never good at school, but you are a damn good marine. It felt like home the first time you slid your fingers around the cool metal of the gun, cradling its weight and doing what you were meant to do. You loved it and you're not sure if that's such a bad thing.
Your unit functioned perfectly in training; each member knew their place. Knew what they had to do. You ate together, laughed together and you were going to go that shit hole of a country together. You aren't looking forward to the sand.
In the end, your unit went, but you weren't with them. You needn't have worried about being surrounded by deserts of sand halfway around the world. Instead you're surrounded by an ocean of water and instead of being in a different country you're in a different galaxy.
You deal though, there's always the sweet familiarity of the gun in your hand and the companionship of your new unit. The only thing you have to deal with besides enemies you couldn’t even conceive of the month before and finicky scientists that don't do what they're told is your massively expanded worldview.