[h2]Back at the Second Platoon Common Area, Deck 4[/h2]
[hr]
Ibus had left the briefing room at next convenience once it had ended. His eyes were fixated on his datapad, still scrolling through all the information at his disposal. Each thought of what could go wrong went through his mind as he slowly strolled down the main hallway that connected each platoon's areas.

The Platoon Sergeant, Krok Upard, was the first to greet him as he made his way into the common area. Trad looked onwards from his datapad, returned the greeting, and with a heavy sigh, began to detail the plan.

"We've got an operation due." Trad remarked lowly, passing the datapad for the Senior Sergeant to read.

"I see," replied Upard. "I'll muster and brief the men. Anything else, Lieutenant?"

"Just make sure the men get plenty of rest. It was a long flight here, they'll need it." Ibus furrowed his brow, thinking. "Oh, and make sure to sound reveille at 0330, breakfast will be 0345 to 0430. Formation is at 0445. Everyone should be in full battle rattle. Got it?"

Krok nodded, and Ibus kept walking, heading to his quarters. The thought about the next day's operation weighed heavily on him. No, this is no time to doubt your abilities or your men, he thought.

His walk through the common area saw his own men finally settled. Bunks and cots were strewn about, footlockers and rucks nestled beside them. Rifles were stacked neatly, muzzles interlocked. Men ate, talked, and tidied their gear. Ibus was hit with waves of greetings as he made way back to the place which he claimed as his own.

As he popped the door to his quarters and entered, the exhaustion hit him all at once. He had barely gotten into sleeping gear before near-collapsing onto his own cot. Instantly he was asleep.