[h2][color=848484][i]Maggie -[/i][/color][/h2]

     Water blasted down from the shower head.  Possibly the best thing about the base in Haven was the water pressure, she thought.. The water was piping hot as it fell from her hair, trickling down her face and dripping from her chin. Her hands were posted up on the permacrete walls of the stall and her head fell between her shoulders.  She let the water fall upon her, as if to wash some imagined stench, a stain of battle from herself.  She stayed like that for a while, lost in her memories.  She liked to replay memory clips in her retinal HUD system, afforded her when she lost an eye in combat during her second infantry term. She liked to do this while she bathed, or anytime she had a spare moment to do so. She also remembered from them that repetition is the real reaper of rewards, and that proper planning prevented piss poor performance. The water suddenly stops and the GC is heard hailing the 1st International Volunteer Battalion to OP. Her head sank lower as the last of the water had its last bout with gravity, and lost as it always does.. She stood and ran her hands over both shoulders and down to the elbows to swat away the last of water. Her fingers traversing the contours of her Reflexx terminals and scars alike, and she had plenty of both.  She pulled herself from the stall as she passed through the latrine, cutting through the thick steam as she passed.  It was thick enough to make breathing labored, and the water was so scalding that her skin was nearly red.  She swiped a towel from the rack and threw it around her waste haphazardly, pinning it steady with one hand.  She made her way down the barracks the short distance to her room, automated door closing behind her.

         [color=00FFFF] [b][i]"End data log 473"[/i][/b][/color] she sad, closing the video in her HUD while she began to dress herself. [color=848484][I]What am I even doing here??[/I][/color] she thought to herself.. [color=848484][I]International VOLUNTEER Battalion..  exactly that..[/I][/color] she thought. Then she threw on a sports bra top, rubbing the towel across the back of her neck and threw it in her dirty bin.  She swiped the hex key from her desk and placed it in her left elbow terminal.  She turned it until it clicked twice, making a minor adjustment before heading to the OP.

  Water still beaded on her skin as she made her way in to the Operations room for the briefing.  She was one of the first to arrive, taking a seat midway through the room.  She fiddled with her hex key until the GC began his briefing.  She didn't turn to acknowledge the other pilots as they filtered in. She would silently initiate a record order for her HUD to record the briefing. She had not always done this, but it became habit as she had accumulated several instances where the need had arose and she was behind lines with zero in the way of COMMS.. Having done so she found the readily available information was invaluable, on occasion..  She would take special interest in the image of this man-  [color=FFC125][I]"This is Osamu Akiyama, an artificial human built by Red-Star, much like our recent defector," [/I][/color] taking a snapshot of his image.  She also took a special interest in the mention of a [i]defector[/i]? Soft overtones of [i]"be prepared to shoot each other down - non-fatally, of course."[/i] which caused her interest to peak, and her tongue slid across the contours of her teeth drunk with intrigue...  

   She didn't speak out during the briefing, nor did she turn when the other pilots did.  She was a bit surprised at the timing of this suggested rendezvous for a drink.. her talents could be better utilized given the current situation, but then again, she liked shotty odds so perhaps they did have time.  She half agreed with Isaac, being perfectly content with the thought of being intoxicated during battle..