The greenhorn Marines straggled out of the armory in small groups, heading to their bunkrooms. It had been a long day. After receiving briefs on all standard weapons and equipment, and their proper use, they were fidgety. After being issued with these things, they were tiring. By the time the officers were done giving them a long-winded speech, they were half-asleep. For troops so accustomed to physical activity, sitting still was irritating, and the assault of numerous speeches made them weary of mind as well. So the officers had sent them on their way to the bunkrooms for some much-needed sleep.

A few minutes later the men of the 25th Tactical were ready to rest, hastily taking off armor and stowing weapons, throwing themselves down on their bunks. Jonathan did the same. He removed most of his armor plates, and unshouldered his rifle, setting it on the bunk. Then with a sigh he let himself fall into the bunk and closed his eyes.

The lights were already dimmed and the room fairly quiet. Yet Jonathan found himself unable to sleep. He opened his eyes, and looked around the room. A few of the greenies were already asleep, some snoring loudly. Yet this didn't keep Jonathan awake. It was something else. A vague uneasiness maybe. His heart was beating a little faster than usual, and stayed at that pace.

He sat up, shifted his eyes to the vets. He was amazed at their ability to sleep with armor on. Yet somehow they did. One of them was facing him, even as Jonathan watched him. He envied the man.

"Whassamatta greenie? Can't sleep?" Startled, Jonathan realized it was the vet who was talking to him. The man opened his eyes but made no other movement, waiting for an answer.

"Uh...yeah," Jonathan said.

"Why not?" the veteran asked, looking him in the face.

"I dunno, I just feel uneasy."

"That's fear," the vet told him.

"I guess you're right," Pasley responded, hanging his head a little.

"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of," the vet informed him, perfectly serious. "A little fear is a good thing, keeps ya on your toes. The trick is not to let it get out of hand. You don't want fear to stop you in the middle of combat. That's what gets you killed."

"How do you control it?"

"Most of the time you don't need to. You get into a fighting mindset, and you're more focused, more aware. But whenever I got too afraid, I always thought about what I was fighting for,"

"What's that?"

"Well, in the broad sense, all of humanity. But for me, it's my Molly. She's my wife. And when all this is done, I'm going back to her. What about you? What're you going back to?"

"Uhh ... hmm," Jonathan thought a moment. He'd never had a serious girlfriend or anything like that. "My friends," he said.

The vet smiled a little. "That'll do. That'll do fine," he said. "Go to sleep, greenie."

He closed his eyes and lay back on the bunk. He thought about his family back home, and his comrades on the Winter Moon. And he fell asleep.