The stars look especially bright tonight. Perhaps it’s the homesickness; it’s almost Christmas and you’re on a base thousands of miles from home, alone on the hospital rooftop.

“…Thought I’d find you here,” a gruff voice, your lieutenant, you recognize.

You look to him. He’s agitated and pulls a cigarette from its pocket for himself. “Someone’s leave got denied,” you observe.

He looks down to you briefly and then lights it, “you’re too damn smart for your own good.”