[PUBLIC -- video]

So this is business as usual around here, I'm guessing.  Things happen.  Big things.  Things you can't help but get involved in.  But when the dust settles, nothing's different.

[He laughs, although it's really closer to a wry chuckle.  Like it's not an entirely unfamiliar feeling.

Sarge doesn't do well in a cage.  There's a reason he's a soldier; the world is his office, every day something different.  Something new.  This forced captivity bullshit is enough to make him dangerously restless.  Make the darkness in his genes scratch at the door even through the Admiral's suppression measures.]

The more they change, I guess.  A universal constant.

And to think I thought you all were crazy when I first got here.  That ain't it at all.  You just figured out it's all useless.  Not gonna get the chance to make a difference anyway.

[There's a gap in the monologue; Sarge isn't generally given to waxing poetic, to talking longer than necessary, but there's a point here.  The compulsion towards violence is familiar, was a part of him long before the infection set in, but familiarity breeds control.  Methods to find it.  He spends a moment gathering his thoughts.  Ensuring his point will be both brief and cohesive.]

You got a gun range around here somewhere.  I know you do.

I want an hour in it.  Don't really care who makes it happen, but you get me a weapon and some time and I promise I won't try to walk off with it after.  I get the rules.  They're important.  Just trust me.  You want to let me have this.


[A/N: Sarge is Affected!  But isn't aware of it yet; we'll backdate this to the first day of the flood.  Feel free to go wild.

...also all the usual "Sarge wanders the Barge all the time" open spams are available for those who want them.]