Hey, it's a new story! I respectfully disagree with the podcast. Here's my explanation for why Bass didn't have an ID.

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

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Lost Identification

Sebastian Monroe was a sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. His MOS was human and computer intelligence—it helped that he was far more tech savvy then his best friend, Miles Matheson. He also spoke four languages (one of them was completely useless, but sounded cool). He was very good at his job, which was why he'd made sergeant at the age of twenty-two.

Being in intelligence did not mean he was organized very well when it came to his personal effects. Miles threatened to kill him at least three times a week, usually after tripping over boots, BDUs, or one pair of Bass' running shoes. Bass always promised to get organized, but he was usually distracted soon after by something shiny to cross his desk from intelligence. (It rankled Miles that Bass could keep him out of his private e-mails, but refused Miles the same privacy by sticking his nose in everywhere.)

By the time that they'd been roommates in barracks for nearly two years, Miles had learned that he needed to carry an ID with him for Bass. The man had issues regarding organization. He could remember every statistic regarding troop movements in the Middle East from the past five years, but couldn't remember that he needed to bring an ID with him. (Miles could, at least, admit that Bass didn't leave base often enough that he needed to carry it all the time.)

And then the world collapsed.

Miles had forced Bass to leave the cave they both called home and go out to every bar in a thirty mile radius. Bass was reluctant to leave, because there was apparently a chat on Skype with his current online girlfriend. There were supposed to be pictures involved. (Miles would have worried more, but this was the five-hundredth—exactly—conversation Bass was having. He'd left after listening to the fifth conversation and Bass' language.)

Bass had only learned, five minutes after they'd left the base, that his ID wasn't on him. He had his driver's license and his mass transit card—and a few pictures of him with the MPs who looked after the gates on all shifts—but not his military ID card. Miles had been too focused on getting Bass drunk out of his mind to think about going back to base to retrieve it. Bass had his challenge coin anyways. That was, he'd thought, enough to keep them in beer for the rest of the evening.

Miles had freaked out pretty badly when the implications of the blackout, and Bass's lack of an ID, hit him. He could only breathe a sigh of relief when the idiot from Intelligence managed to skate through the ID check on personal connections and his stupid tattoo.

He'd never thought about how Bass had gotten the tattoo to stay there. Years later, listening to him plotting with Rachel about how to keep their area of the United States true to the ideals of the old country, he'd realized just how intelligent his friend was.

Bass just couldn't keep an ID on him, for love or money, and Miles hated him for how easily he could still skate through life.

Even without identification.

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So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Giving Bass too much slack? Drop a line and let me know.