Blackburn rolled up his sleeves and ran his fingers through his hair. Sleep was a far off thing, for one he was hungry, for another something was preventing him from getting much of it. Like a bad dream he couldn't remember, it was weird, he'd once been able to sleep anywhere, Slab of concrete, no problem, in the grass with a bottle for a pillow, Childs play. He knew he wouldn't sleep well now, so he exited his billet. He strolled along the pathways of general quarters and towards the local bar. He saw a few of the people he'd led to general quarters, a few of the pretty ones held his attention for more than a brief moment. But he didn't make any serious moves. Not tonight, that is what he told himself, almost every night for that matter, it wasn't a problem of scarcity, he was a good looking SOB, wasn't interest, he heard that eldar could be wild in bed, he shook his head, he guessed it was just the environment. Active warzones changed him. He sat down in his booth with a bottle of stout, he tried to remember his home. It had been three years, nine months, and twenty one days since he'd last seen it. He pictured the gradual green slopes, the old roads that few used, the quaint towns and villages. It was peaceful, but he'd missed this life, war. It was all he knew, and he knew he'd missed it. So when the IAMC needed marines he volunteered, and that was that. To everyone else, he was just a marine, in a bar, sipping beer, staring off into space and scanning his environment every so often. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]