She did relax. Fareeha, though wanting to get back into the fight, felt safe. The front wasn't that far away either, but she felt far enough. She smiled ruefully at the doctor. "I'd wouldn't have any other," she said. She was taking deep, slow breaths. "You wake me if you need anything. If anything happens."

Then a foreign voice snapped her eyes back open. Looking for the source of the voice, Fareeha's eyes rested on a Swiss soldier. Tension layered its way back into her body. She knew better than to try sitting up. Pain never fazed her, but she didn't go looking for it. Her eyes narrowed when the Karson told the two he had a message from Kalte. 

The news, thankfully, was good. Pulling back the injured was the best course of action. However, pulling the wounded out would mean sacrificing man power from the line. Not being in the action gave Fareeha incomplete intel. If the private reported truthfully, the omnic positions were being pushed by the joint forces. But how stable was the line? She bit her lip.

"Officer discretion," Fareeha said after thinking about the consequences of either decision. "Have Captain Kalte evaluate the situation. If the injured can exfil, do it. If the line if too fragile, then they'll need to hold."

Private Karson nodded. "I'll let him know, ma'am."

"Private," Fareeha said before the soldier could leave. "See if you can't find volunteers here to help. I don't think the base can spare anyone. Only if you can find some. Every soul counts in this war."

"Yes, ma'am. Fast recovery, ma'am. Jumpers miss you already." Saluting smartly, the private left without another word. Professional. Fareeha admired that. 

Fareeha leaned back into her cot. She tried to fall back into her stupor but couldn't. "Angela. Can you see if you find some water?"