Old Journey, New Friends Micah prowled his rooms. Two days passed since his talk with Glade and he'd not seen the man. Now he had a skin full of energy with no place to divert it. Glade assigned him a luxurious suite but on Micah it was wasted. The building outside him bustled with personnel busy at their tasks yet Micah couldn't manage to converse with them. The Marines were friendly enough but made it clear they weren't interested in talking. Micah tried his terminal again. For all of its claims to be a small branch it had an amazingly thorough collection of military titles. Micah tried losing himself in them but to no avail. When he started reading he found himself remembering missions. That reminded him, pointedly, that he didn't belong to the 113th any longer. Micah walked nonchalantly to a comm. He had to leave the wing containing his rooms and he still felt uncomfortable doing it. Still, nothing ventured... He dialed his parents' combo. Then Jennifer's. Nothing on either. Links still down.
