*As soldiers, we are each responsible for ourselves and only ourselves. Yeah, you’re close with your other guys, whatever. But no guy is obligated to step in front of a sword for another guy. You do that, that’s your choice and you own it. Martin blocked you, that’s his fault and his fault alone. You did*’t ask him to. He wasn’t obligated to. He did that all by his lonesome.”
“Then why did he do it?”
“How the hell should I know? Not your problem, man. Gavin’s just bitter cause he lost a friend, and he’s entitled to that. But he should be mad at Martin, not you. So don’t expect me to save your ass out there; if you make a mistake, that’s on you. I’ll train you but that’s as far as it goes.”
“But…we’re medics, aren’t we supposed to save people?”
“Only once they’re injured. If they ain’t harmed, they ain’t our problem.”
“Well…ok.” Lucas wasn’t sure what to do with this information. All he’d ever heard was all about brotherhood, and how soldiers were so close they were willing to die for each other. But looking back, most of what he’d heard about being a soldier and fighting was crap. The world, the books especially, they made it sound so noble and glorious; nothing about this was glorious. It was a lot to take in, realizing that his books had lied to him. “Martin made a mistake.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“Nope.”
“Ok.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. So what happens now?*
Sorokin slapped his legs. “We go to the infirmary. Tomorrow, I'm gonna get you in shape.”
At the infirmary, Lucas was treating a soldier with vicious burns from an explosion caused by a Kandarin mage. He carefully peeled back the bandages to reveal oozing, bright red weals on the man’s arms and chest. The ointment made the man shriek with pain. Half of his face was burned as well, leaving a drooping shadow of a once handsome man.
26-Aug-2010 22:24:51
- Last edited on
26-Aug-2010 22:25:16
by
Crystal Smee