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Post by Vice Admiral Michael Martin on May 9, 2022 3:32:10 GMT -6
Waiting for Natalie to leave, Michael knew the beard was his last way of grieving Samantha and honestly he needed to move forward. Stepping into the bathroom, he began trimming before lathering up the shaving cream before pulling out his straight razor to shave down entire sections before having a smooth face. Wiping off the excess, he fixed his jacket before starting his way out with his own escort confused.
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Post by Vice Admiral Michael Martin on Dec 4, 2023 1:53:26 GMT -6
No home. Terra nuked to dust.
Kobol, for him, reminds him of Sam which he feels like he failed her. Taking a sip of the whiskey, Michael glanced over at his uniform for they were in orbit of Kobol since returning and the Eight he was seeing was now down on the surface with so many others. Pouring another glass, the bottle fell to the ground with the others as he pulled on his sweater to make his rounds though the alcohol had little effect on him for it was soothing his shattered soul. Clipping on his holster, life on the Battlestar had been relaxed with much of the crew on R&R in the Colonies leaving a crew able to carry out everyday operations. Picking up his urban camouflage jacket, Michael even through his grief was relying on his past to aid in his position especially with the Marines mostly walking about with only two squadrons of pilots on board.
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