strikecommand | @passedover

[When Jack made the decision to join the military (which seems like lifetimes ago, at this point, given where he is right now), he'd been under no illusions about the glamor of the job--more specifically, the lack thereof. There's nothing glamorous about basic training, or shared barracks, or being pumped full of shady government chemicals and puking for days after each round of gene therapy. So he'd expected it, sure, but maybe not on the robot apocalypse level.

Turns out there's nothing glamorous about saving the world, either.

Certainly not much that's fun about staking out an Omnium with Reyes. No offense to him, of course. He's fine company, but they're dug in deep and the space is small and the weather's bad. Everything is wet and cold and cramped maybe not as bad as basic training, but still kind of terrible. They've been here (away from the team) for a couple days. It will likely be a couple more.]

Hey.

[He's nudging Reyes in the leg with his combat boot. It's Jack's shift, but he's already detecting some unusual activity and he wants a second opinion. His voice is hushed, cautious--the nudging supposed to do most of the work.]

Wake up.

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