“I’m glad it’s holding up,” Gavin said, referring to the restorative tissue he had placed in Reece’s lower back. It had been a simple enough procedure, at least from a genetic standpoint, and one that Gavin had been more than happy to do for the rugged pilot.

 “As for being a popsicle, I’ll admit I was a green one not long ago. I’ve never had a sensation that mixed the best parts of a hangover [i]and[/i] a firm kick to the testicles, so I at least can mark that off my bucket list.” 

Gavin chuckled at his own quip, before snorting a smirk in response to the boisterous Marine down near the front of the Auditorium. 

“It’s good to know that our young friend awoke with plenty of piss and vinegar in his Blood Stripes,” the doctor said to both Reece and the large bearded man that had taken a seat behind them. Never being one to wait for an invitation to introduce himself, Gavin turned in his seat to extend a hand to the larger-than-life man with the pastries.

“Dr. Gavin Brock,” he said with a genuine smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I must say that I’m encouraged to see so much facial hair among Third Shift. Bodes well for the future of humanity.” Gavin’s eyes narrowed, and he looked about the Auditorium in an exaggerated fashion before dropping his voice slightly. “It seems that even some of the women on our shift have taken to the trend as well. Our Esprit de Corps is intact, to be sure.”