The screams were just the same.

First Sargent Curtis anxiously marched the length of his cell, though the Brass call them quarters. A place to lay his head, his own personal crapper and more potted plants than he could count did little to hide the bars he felt around him. His cane clinking rhythmically against the Alexis' hull, Curtis fidgeted, plucking leaves off each plant he passed in turn. The doctors said being surrounded by nature was 'soothing' but as far as Curtis could tell, it just meant they needed to sweep out the damn leaves more often. Marching quicker, the clinking of his cane grew louder but still wasn't enough to drown out the sounds of war. He couldn't hear the soldiers on the beach but he could [i]hear[/i] them. Echoes of Normandy across time and bouncing around his head.

"My country t'is of thee! Sweet land of liberty! Of thee I sing!" Singing loudly to himself in time to the steady metronome of his own clinking, Curtis tried desperately to drown out the sounds of German Gatling guns. "LAND WHERE MY FATHERS DIED! LAND OF THE PILGRIM'S PRIDE! FROM EVERY MOUNTAINSIDE LET FREEDOM RING!" Off key but still in time, Curtis' march became feverish and his singing even louder. Still, it wasn't enough. Curtis felt a caged animal. No matter how loud he reverberated himself, still he heard the Echoes.

"Alright. Alright! I'll go! I'll go!...I'll go." With a heavy sigh, the Echoes were appeased and faded as Curtis marched toward his footlocker. Within the barren metal container lay just a few sparse items, a simple black belt with an attached gun holster and six additional reinforced slots containing vials of Bio-Serum; an old six shooter, tarnished with age and disuse ; six .45 caliber all-purpose rounds and a single pack of Skittles.

Closing the footlocker once more, Curtis walked swiftly to the opposite wall where a seldom used intercom was mounted. Since the incident, personnel were kept separate from the 'subject' and as such Curtis spent most of his time alone in the belly of the Alexis; a strategic position as well should the ship be attacked head on or turn over in a storm.

*bzzt*
"Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?
*bzzt*

*bzzt*
It's Curtis. I think it's time."
*bzzt*