It was weirdly reminiscent of that classic horror vid with the dinosaurs. The slow way his head turned towards her, one eye laser focused and distinctly more sober than she’d expected, wasn’t pleasant or friendly.Ī flash of teeth with his intake of breath and a low rumble that her translator stubbornly refused to parse vibrated through the air. “You know… you’re not the only one with a SAM issue.” Sara said, desperate to fill the yawning silence as much as to reach across the metaphorical gap and remind him that there were people who could understand some of his pain. ![]() He… hadn’t signed up for this part of the job any more than she had. Actually, it was little wonder he was this pissed off with his life. Given how angry he was with the universe at large.įifty eight and a widower with a damaged AI he’d not intended to host forced into his head. She’d genuinely assumed that he was younger than that given how he threw himself headfirst into firefights, given the stories already being told about how he took on the kett like a one-person army. Just twenty-odd years out on her assumption.Īnd, shit. In the alliance standard calendar, the date would correspond with the fourth of September.” SAM informed her, quite casual about reading her mental questions these days. Young enough to still be a soldier, old enough to have spent the fifteen years he’d once claimed to have spent as a spectre. Maybe SAM had some clue how old he really was. ![]() It aged him something terrible, in truth. Stuck some six hundred years in the past. “Older than that.” He completed, and his eyes were a long way distant.
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