"Oh, spook, huh?"  Sam roared as soon as he exited the commander's office.  "I got your 'spook' right here, pal!  Come get some!"<br/><br/>To emphasize his point, Sam dropped his duffle, and flippen an obscene finger gesture towards the door.  Then, noticing motion out of the corner of his eye, he offered a sheepish grin to two junior infantrymen, and said "How ya doin'?"<br/><br/>Sam stomped off, pissed that a simple 3rd-rate intel billet was enough to have him branded before he even arrived.  It sucked, and he knew it sucked.<br/><br/>Then, he paused, again.  The guy had mentioned something...  The 'G' word!  he was getting one of the new Ground-types!  Sam couldn't believe it!<br/><br/>As he walked, he had to ask directions to the 432nd's barracks, and finally found it.  Once inside, he found an empty rack, dropped his duffle, and layed flat on it.<br/><br/>"Never fear, mere humans,"  He called, to the other occupants.  "Your ideal has arrived!  Sam Richter, Corporal in this man's Ground Forces, has arrived!"<br/><br/>Those transport craft weren't very comfortable.  HIs exhaustion and back pain were proof of that.