Whilst Sam Dunn took issue with the first part of the comment – he didn’t expect Morse to get his sense of humour, but he knew from feedback from a lot of people over the years that it was sharp, though admittedly after Acid Reign it might have taken a turn for the bitter, he instantly recognized the latter part as true. He understood that he had not for a second bothered to become a part of the team, and that he’d done nothing other than alienate the other marines and make them hate him. Of course they did, he’d called them cowards to their faces, threatened one of their veteran members and talked back to their officers. He grasped the idea of what he had done with perfect clarity, and he did not need Morse to spell it out for him.
“You ain’t funny, and sure as hell ain’t one of us.”
As for the bit about his rank…well, yea. Admittedly, he wasn’t obeying the military regulations at all. It took him a bit of getting used to, being right at the bottom of the food chain. He remembered the days when the Paras had called him ‘sir’ and he had his rank on the epaulettes on his shoulder, instead of sewn into his sleeves. Considering this, when he replied, he did so with complete civility, avoiding any foul language and referring to the man by his rank, as one should when addressing a man of superior rank. It was the voice he’d used when he had been an officer, and it tended to command attention.
“I bloody well hope not - If it'd turned out I'd gone to all the bother of alienating your platoon and making myself look like a massive tool just to get hugs, I'd be rather pissed off.”
<Tag Morse>
He was about to explain himself when Staff Sergeant Dugan Simovic stormed in and unleashed a sonic weapon the likes of which had not been heard since Brian Blessed had graced the earth with his booming voice. Sam stood there and listened, arms still crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He kept his face mostly neutral, though the NCO’s choice of words did cause his eyebrow to raise a little – this was a trademark expression for Sam Dunn, as he had only one eyebrow to rise, making him look permanently unimpressed.
The truth was that despite appearances, he could clearly see the wisdom in the Dugan’s words. If they had any chance of getting out alive, they had to put their differences aside. Common sense, really. If they hated each other, they wouldn’t make any effort to help each other. Then they’d die, robbing their comrades of much needed numbers and firepower, leading to more deaths. Made perfect sense, except for one thing.
“Yes sir, I understand. I'm fully aware of just how outta line my actions've been, and I'll accept whatever punishment the USCM sees fit to throw my way...posthumously.”
<Tag Dugan>
As far as Sam Dunn was concerned, they could throw as many threats his way as they liked. Every single one depended on one thing - namely, his surviving the mission. He'd read the brief, and even though he knew there was some small chance the Xenomorphs were still in captivity, it didn't stop the vice that was clamped around his heart, or the forboding in his bones. Sam Dunn knew that the threat of a tribunal or charge was an empty one, because unlike them, he knew one thing.
Sam Jack Dunn was going to die on Forge. He fully intended to make every second he had left count, and fight against his demise with every breath, but he knew the best he could do was delay the end that he could already hear calling to him. He didn't doubt he wouldn't be the only one, either, but he intended to minimize friendly casualties as much as he could. Truth was, he wasn't afraid to die anymore...he was looking forward to it. An escape from the black, hissing nightmares that robbed him of his sleep and the terrible loss of his men seemed such an easy thing in comparison to living.
He sighed, long and low, and shook his head. The man seemed to doubt that he'd do his part. He hated to admit it, but that hurt.
"Of course I'm going to do my part, sir. You know that - I wouldn't have signed back up for active duty if I didn't intend on following through. Still, you know as well as I do that I'm never going to make any friends in the Easy Eights. I'm not going to go through losing everything I care about again - I'd rather die alone."
<Tag Dugan>
With that, he walked off towards where Dirk Pitt and the rest of his squad was forming up, sighing to himself as he went. He had no idea what the squad leader had to say, but he had the sinking feeling it wasn't going to be good. Ah well, it was better that way. He reminded himself of that as he wandered over towards his new squad.
"Okay Sergeant, what's the go?" He knew that the man probably had some idea, plan or speech nagging at his mind - Sam had no problems with hearing the man out.
<Tag Dirk>