Futuristic The Pathfinders

[Shannon Trevor]

The crew of the Relentless had arrayed themselves around the viewscreen that dominated the back wall of the small briefing room. "Planet designation PX-05-C03," the automated narrator of the video explained as the desert world grew larger. Colonel John Haverson leaned casually against a bulkhead. He had already seen the briefing but wanted to be present for his crew receiving it. Questions would be inevitable, not that the Colonel would be able to provide much more than the video. Satellites and drones could only tell you so much. As Pathfinders, it was their job to put boots on the ground and clear the way for the survey teams.

Tall, tanned and flint jawed, John was effortlessly handsome. At forty six he was in better shape than most men half his age.His dark hair had greyed at the temples and laughter lines furrowed his brow and tugged at the corner of each eye but neither feature could be considered a blemish, rather they added to the Colonel's distinguished good looks.

Today, he was dressed in his preferred attire of Pathfinder Initiative fatigues. The short-sleeved midnight blue shirt was worn tight to his muscular frame, clinging to a broad chest. His camo pants framed a strong and toned pair of legs while the black combat boots were polished to perfection. A large, gold chronograph watch clasped onto John's left wrist completed the look of one of the Initiative’s most experienced officer's.


He scanned the room as the video continued. It was a mishmash of experienced personnel and rookies. Moire stood next to him, which John supposed, was the perfect summation of their relationship. The Gunnery Sergeant had been with him for a little under two years. Upbeat, cheerful and unrelentingly optimistic, she was also positively deadly and had pulled his ass out of the fire on more than one occasion. John was just glad she was on their side.

"...identified as a potential golden world, C03 enjoys significant natural resources..."

John's eyes drifted around to the rest of his crew. Olsen and Nova were known commodities and John trusted them both. Olsen, like Moire was a steady presence ground side and perhaps more importantly, a damn fine cook. Considering their food choices had previously tended to come down to a selection of either protein paste or compound bars, John considered Olsen's value to his crew to be priceless.

"...enjoys an Orbital Period of 1.6 Earth Years. Average surface temperature is 19 °C. The Radius is 5'752 kilometres....."


Sartre and McLennan had barely been on board long enough to get past initial introductions. The new science officer and medic, replacing a transfer and promotion respectively, were both quiet. Not surprising, John supposed, coming onto a new ship and a new crew. The Colonel had no doubt both would soon find their place.

"....Designated as a potential red level, owing to sudden and violent electrical storms and several native fauna believed to be territorial and extremely aggressive..."

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Walking into the briefing room Christopher lined up along the back wall like everyone else and stared down the viewscreen as the briefing started. He wore a nice looking button up shirt with a simple pair of jeans. His long hair was held in a tight bun to keep it out of his face. In his hand, he held a hairnet, which he had taken off before entering the room since he had forgotten to take it off before he headed out this way. He had been in the kitchen right before he had made his way over here and had almost gotten here late.

As the briefing began Christopher felt himself have to really focus his attention on the screen. The briefings were almost always the same to him, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy them, it just meant that he enjoyed them more when he had time to bake some sort of goody to enjoy along with the briefing. It always seemed to bring everyone's joy up when he brought some sort of treat, and everyone, or at least he was able to keep his attention for longer if he had something to munch on while they were being briefed. Though, this briefing was missing its sweet treat because Christopher had been falling behind and got distracted this morning so there was no time to put the cookies in the oven. He was afraid that they would burn if he put them in during the briefing, so he had placed the cookie dough into the fridge until he had more time to make them.

They would most likely go along with dinner now for a quick and easy dessert, or maybe he'd pair the fresh cookies with some homemade ice cream and a nice caramel or chocolate sauce to make it special since they were heading out. Damn his mind had to get off sweets and focus on the briefing or he'd be confused afterward, but now he really wanted to make dessert special tonight since there were no cookies for the briefing. Damn his one tracked mind.

To keep his focus Christopher took a few seconds to look around the room, taking a quick glance at everyone, some newer faces stood out along with more experienced in the small crowd, and it always made him a bit excited to see new crew members. More people to feed meant more people to talk with and get to know.

Christopher quickly brought his attention back to the briefing, how long had he allowed himself to be distracted? Couldn't have been that long now, they were still going over the climate of the planet, so he couldn't have missed anything too important. Now to just keep focus until the briefing was done.

 

[NemoTheSurvivor]

Nova stood with her arms crossed, watching the hologram briefing for her trip to PX-05-C03. A planet covered in deserts. It reminded her of home, where her dad would take her out onto the Martian deserts to test out her mother's latest vehicle design. Nova smiled as she took a moment to savor the memories. Then it was back to the briefing. More stats the eggheads would like to know, very little that mattered to Nova. All data necessary to fly would be provided on-route to the planet.

Nova unfocused on the hologram to look at her team. Colonel Haverson was here, looking as professional as always. While he enjoyed the half-Pathfinder half-camo look, Nova herself naturally gravitated towards full camo when not flying. An old habit from her days as a "pilot," or at least what the Navy considered a pilot. Ryan was next to Haverson, though that was to be expected. Olsen was here as well, though he was a tad late and came empty handed. Which was a shame, as Nova thought his cooking was almost as good as Yvonne's.

The last two members, Sartre and McLennan, interested Nova. Sartre must've impressed somebody to be welcome to the Pathfinders, considering word from the grapevine was that he could be difficult to get along with. However, the records don't lie, and Sartre was pretty good at his job of not letting people die. McLennan was another matter. After hearing that their previous science officer was getting transferred off her ship, Nova called in a favor and had an old friend send over some recommendations. McLennan, aside from looking more competent than the others, seemed like a good fit for both the crew and the Pathfinder initiative. Nova took the recommendation to Haverson, and the day after the old science officer transferred, McLennan was welcomed aboard.

The hologram started talking about freak electrical storms and aggressive wildlife. The electrical storms would be something to worry about, as dodging lighting isn't exactly easy, but Nova felt a smirk creep onto her lips. Nothing like dodging a bit of lightning to get the blood pumping. The animals, on the other hand, didn't interest her at all. Her job of flying the ship meant her boots shouldn't ever be on the ground, which was good enough for her.

 

[Epiphany]

While the crew of the Relentless were briefed on the planet ahead, Moire stood by Colonel Haverson in a perfect parade rest. She'd always been disciplined, seeing it as the way a soldier stayed sharp and stayed alive. Ever since her re-engineering, though, it was effortless for her implant-controlled nervous system to tell her muscles and bones what to do. It freed Moire up to take in the data, and the people she'd be on the mission with.

For anyone that looked her way, she made eye contact and offered a friendly grin. There wasn't much opportunity to engage with people during a briefing, though, and frankly her role on the mission wasn't the kind of thing preparatory data was typically good for. With this kind of situation, she'd be doing chores around the ship at the command of the various officers, at least until they reached the planet. In which case she'd be trusting her training and good instincts honed by years of off-world encounters to keep everyone alive.

At least their destination didn't sound like environmental suits would be needed. Those storms were another matter. Fauna she could deal with but lightning bolts were no joking matter.

Moire passed the rest of the briefing casually admiring some of the more handsome or beautiful members of the team. At least this crew was easy on the eyes.

 

[LawPhilos]

Dr. Leroy stood amongst his shipmates in the semi-circle that they had formed in the room. He was dressed in a thick gray sweater over a neatly tucked-in shirt, with navy blue canvas pants and large boots that were part of the endorsed uniform for members of the Pathfinder Initiative. Like his comrades, Leroy’s body was turned to face a holoscreen that was in front of them. His gaze, however was lowered as to be soundly fixed onto an object—small, translucent and rectangular—that he held in his hands. It was his personal pad, and he was dutifully typing away the data that was being relayed by the narrator onto it. This wasn’t, strictly speaking, necessary, they’d of course each have access to a written copy of the briefing from their computer terminals, but if nothing more, this was an opportunity to organize the information in a way he found satisfactory.

Only occasionally did he lift his head to glance at what was depicted on the screen before him. It was only useless probe footage of dunes and storm clouds. Aesthetically pleasing, perhaps, but certainly not worth his attention at this time. After all, planetary statistics weren’t the only thing he was busy taking note of. He was also writing down his impressions of the people that were in the room with him, the crew he was to serve along side during his very first mission and his assigned patients no-less.

The idea that it might not be such a good idea to write things about individuals that were right next to you hadn’t actually occurred to Leroy and so he was making no intentional attempt to obscure his entries from view. Fortunately, his small frame was rather inconspicuous and his fingers darting across the keyboard would make his notes hard to read even if anybody bothered to look down at them.

First, there were those immediately beside him, Christopher Olson and Brian McLennan.

Olson positively towered above Leroy and immediately struck him as resembling some sort of fierce wild animal. Based on this he assumed Christopher would be short-tempered, unreasonable and combative; not the type of person he would usually spend time with. Though he supposed, as he wrote those projected character traits down, that they weren’t bad qualities for a soldier. And it would mean Leroy might acquire some experience with managing those with less than mild dispositions.

Brian on the other hand was very similar to the doctor in many ways, a scholar clearly, as the crew’s science officer and also like him, new to the team. Roy looked forward to working with him and typed this positive remark down.

Then there was the pilot. Captain Marlett had flown several of the ships he had been on-board during his training, but never had much in the way of actual interactions. Leroy deduced that she must be competent at her job, it seemed doubtful they would allow anybody with a sloppy track-record to serve as an example for new recruits. The Pathfinders were an elite branch of the armed forces of the COAF, after all.

Furthest away from him, was renowned Colonel John Haverson. Roy was aware that he had a reputation of being an outstanding leader and he really didn’t have anything to add. At any rate, his appearance and mannerisms, casual yet very much stately, seemed to definitely fit the archetype of the mature military man, expert on the field.

And then finally, there was the person he was most intrigued by: Moire Ryan. As the group’s health provider he had received the medical histories of each crew member, including detailed reports on the fascinating experimental cybernetic implants that Ryan was housing within her body. He had always been captivated with the intersection between natural biology and human engineering, but this was something else. Artificial musculoskeletal substitutes. Conductor pathways integrated with the peripheral nervous system. And to top it all off an auxiliary cognitive processor entirely fused with what was left of the original organic structure. Was it even human or more so a machine? Regardless, it was truly an incredible privilege to have access to such a specimen.

 

[Abendrot]

The hologram cast a dim light over the handful of officers the briefing room, each of whom stood in a semicircle around the glowing image. There were no chairs to be seen, unlike on his old ship. Pathfinders, as it seemed, preferred to conduct business standing. Not that his bothered Brian McLennan overmuch; he could think better on his feet anyways. It had only been a few weeks since he'd transferred here, and while a large part of him still felt out of place, the confusion wasn't quite as bad as it had been the first night. He'd been slipping into a comfortable routine over the past couple of weeks, and he found himself adjusting rather smoothly

Brian raised his tablet and stylus, jotting down any points that seemed salient in the robot's transcript, while also making quiet mental notes of his new colleagues. To his right stood Dr. Leroy Sartre, the crew's newest addition after him. The doctor was a bit on the paler side, probably because he was more accustomed to sterile operating theatres than field work, though Brian didn't doubt his competence. A quick glimpse of his service record was enough to disabuse him of that suspicion. Further down was Christopher Olson, a hefty, terrifying, broad-shouldered man with biceps like three times the size of Brian's head. There was Captain Marlett, the woman who was at least partially responsible for Brian being here in the first place, Moire Ryan with her almost too friendly gaze, and Colonel Haverson, who looked, well, leaderly. The man held himself casually, but with an air of authority.

The hologram went on, describing the planet's environment. It was a desert world with a breathable atmosphere, arid but with a mild climate. The holoscreen showed a few images of electrical storms, but to Brian's disappointment, there was little footage or discussion of the native flora or fauna. No matter; he was here to correct that lack of data.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

John's slate chimed. He reached into his pocket as the briefing continued, detailing the day and night cycles of PX-05-C03. He sighed as he read the text. Running late. Gear head adamant he needs this part before departure. Will be ship side as soon as we can. The short message ended with Myn's signature. The Colonel put the slate back into his pocket. His engineer hadn't been satisfied with the readouts he was getting from the ship's core in his initial diagnostic. Nothing to worry about, John had been assured. A simple part and a simple fix, one that could be done while en route to their destination. The Colonel had sent his XO, Myn Othic, along with the engineer to hurry the process along but was now faced with getting bumped down the departure queue.

It was a problem for later. The video ended with a good luck from the automated narrator as the screen faded to black. The lights in the briefing room automatically switched back on while John stepped to the front. "Comprehensive enough for an initial brief, he said, looking around his crew. "Mission parameters are the same as always, Identify suitable site for follow-up expedition, explore immediate vicinity and allow the scientists on board to collect their findings and begin the survey."
There was only so much a automated brief could tell them. It would take actual people on the ground to give a proper sense of what waited for them planet side. "Any questions about what we're facing or any concerns? The floor is yours."

 

[NemoTheSurvivor]

Nova missed more of the briefing as Yvonne messaged her, asking if she was already deployed. Nova messaged back, letting Yvonne know that they haven't, and that she would call before leaving. The hologram told the crew good luck as Nova tuned back into the briefing. Colonel Haverson asked if anyone had any questions. "How long do we plan on being planetside?" Nova asked. "A couple of days, a week, or until we get sick of studying the planet?"

 

[Epiphany]

Moire nodded approvingly at their pilot's question on time frame. "Same question as the Captain, sir," she echoed. "Mostly because it tells me how much ordinance to pack."

 

[Shannon Trevor]

"Standard week cycle," John answered with a chuckle, enjoying Moire's never ending eagerness for a chance at using some weaponry. "Long enough to get the site for the forward operating base established, secure the vicinity and let Lieutenant McLennan carry whatever tests he feels relevant. If there's anything of particular interest we might be required to stay longer and conversely if we're in any serious danger, it will be a good deal shorter."

Danger was part of the job but the Corps didn't send men and ships out to die needlessly. Environmental hazards and dangerous flora and fauna were to be expected but needless risks were not.

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Christopher did his best to keep his attention on the hologram, and as it wished them luck at the end he let out a soft sigh. Glad it was over and feeling like he had a general understanding of what was gonna be going on. When he heard some of the crew speak up he found himself become instantly interested in the topic, much more interested than when the hologram was on. Guess he just enjoyed person-to-person interaction more than watching a short briefing.

After hearing Colonel answers he decided to add on to the question. "How long will it take for us to get to our destination?" He began to gently toss the hair net in his hands from one hand to the other as he waited.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

"Just a short hop," John answered, turning to Christopher. "Jump into the system and then a day and a half on the burn before descent." The discovery of the gate system had made the galaxy a smaller place but it was still incomprehensibly vast. The gates could launch a ship to a receiving gate a thousand light years away but the vessel would still have to travel the distance between the gate and their actual destination. Fortunately for the Relentless, the system where PX-05-C03 was located was less than two days from its corresponding gate.

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Christopher listened contently to the colonel as he gave him an answer. He gave a short nod to show that he was content then looked around at all the crew. "So, I got everything I need." He paused, a wide smile appearing on his face as he lightly clapped and rubbed his hands together a bit. "How does everyone feel about chicken parmesan with homemade pasta and fresh side salads for dinner tonight." He paused waiting in anticipation for everyone responses before speaking once again. "Oh, and since I didn't bring in anything to snack on for the briefing, I will be making something extra special for dessert tonight!"

 

[Epiphany]

"That would be a 'hell yes' from me!" Moire chirped in.

Moire glanced around, noticing once more she was one of the only enlisted in the room, and said "Best kick off to a mission, ever," mostly to herself.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

"I think Moire speaks for all of us," John replied with a wide grin, cuffing the young woman on the shoulder. "Chris, feel free to get started. Nova," John turned to his pilot. As soon as Othic and our esteemed engineer get back on board, request a departure and take us out to the gate." He paused to look around the room. "Any other questions before we break? No? Alright, dismissed."

 

[Epiphany]

At the dismissed order, Moire headed out to complete requisitioning the right armaments. Ultimately, she opted for a rifle per crew member, two side arms each, several grenade launchers, a rocket launcher and two laser rifles. Ammunition took up about as much volume as the actual weapons, given there was no way to know what this crew would face down there.

In addition, Moire saw to it that three drone-belts were included. While the ship itself likely had sensory systems of its own, time and experience had taught her there was no substitute for real eyes-on-the-ground. Drone-belts included a mix of thumbnail-sized to thumb-sized drones that could be peeled off and tossed into the air to provide wireless transmission to a HUD or anything that could receive visual telemetry. Violent weather could drastically decrease their utility but they'd been damn handy on three occasions and she wasn't going in without the ability to conduct remote reconnoitering.

Once she'd wrapped up her business, the Gunnery Sergeant wiped her forehead before remembering she didn't really sweat anymore. With the TARSNS implant regulating all of her bodily systems, she rarely overheated and even more rarely noticed. Moire frowned, feeling faintly like she'd lost something more than just losing discomfort. In the mirror, she looked as human as ever. But more and more, she wondered how true that really was.

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Seeing that no one disproved of his suggested meal, Christopher smiled widely. "Good, we're all in agreement, I'll get dinner started right away then." He gave a kind smile to everyone in the room before turning and leaving the briefing room. He made his way down the halls of the ship till he got to the kitchen. It was nicely cleaned and was a pleasant sight as he began pulling out the ingredients for the fresh pasta.

Christopher put his hairnet back on and rolled up his sleeves as he took out some flour, salt, eggs, and olive oil and began mixing it in a large bowl until it became a thick dough. He placed a damp towel over the bowl to let the dough rise then washed his hands before grabbing the chicken thighs and breasts he had dethawing in the refrigeration unit. He gave the chicken a good rinse and dry before setting it out on a cutting board, cutting off any large portions of fat and filleting the meat so that it cooked thoroughly. "Beautiful." He muttered, before laying the meat to the side on the cutting board to wash his hands before making his way back over to the noodle dough.

He pulled the towel off and away from the bowl and smiled seeing that the dough had risen nicely. He placed some flour on the clean countertop and began stretching and pressing down on the dough, taking decently sized pieces from the large dough ball and slowly pushing it through the pasta maker. He used up about half the ball of dough before stopping, he had more than enough to feed the crew for the night, so he wrapped up up the remaining dough and placed a blank sticker on it. Writing in marker he wrote today's date and the date that the dough should be used by. He then placed the dough in the freezer and began working with the chicken once again.

Christopher whisked up some eggs and milk in one bowl, in another he mixed bread crumbs, garlic powder, and onion powder. He began heating up the oven and a large skillet with a bit of oil in it, waiting for it to fully heat up before continuing. He took each piece of chicken dipping it in the egg mixture, then rolling it around in the bread crumb mixture, repeating this once more again before gently laying it in the hot skillet. He flipped every piece of chicken till they were nice and brown then moved them over to a baking sheet, placing a generous piece of mozzarella on the chicken before placing it in the oven to finish cooking. He then went back to the fridge, pulling out the cookie dough he had made earlier. "These would make a great dessert." He smirked and pulled out the dough, rolling it into small balls and placing them on a few lightly greased baking sheets.

"Now to finish the noodles and start the salad," Christopher spoke to himself as he set a timer and began boiling some water for the noddles. Dropping the homemade noodles into the boiling water, Christopher wiped off the counters and began some hot water filling up in the sink with some soap. He moved any dirty dishes into the soapy water then pulled out a head of lettuce, spinach, fresh carrots, baby tomatoes, a cucumber, a red onion, and some sharp cheddar cheese. He pulled out a large salad bowl and began chopping up the veggies placing them into the bowl one by one. He took his time shredding the cheddar on a cheese grater and placing it on top of the pile before gently tossing the salad.

As he finished the salad he checks the noodles, "Almost." He again spoke to himself as he turned down the heat and heard the timer go off. "Great timing." Christopher began humming to himself as he opened the oven and took a heat thermometer to multiple pieces of the chicken. "Perfect." He smirked and pulled the chicken out, turning down the oven temperature so the cookies wouldn't burn when he put them in. He went back over to the pasta and checked it again, this time it was done. He pulled it off the stove and drained the pasta in the empty sink before moving it to an empty bowl. Before the noodles could cool, he threw some tomato paste, freshly ground tomatoes, olive oil, salt, pepper, diced garlic cloves, basil, and oregano in and mixes the pasta together.

He Smiled, happy with what he had made. He set the cookies in the oven and set a timer, then began taking everything out to the dining room, setting everything out onto an empty table. Once everything was out he sent a message to everyone. "Dinner is done. Come and get it while It's still hot!"

Epiphany Shannon Trevor NemoTheSurvivor Abendrot LawPhilos ​

 

[Shannon Trevor]

John knew there was a rule somewhere in the Naval regulations about formal dinner decorum and how the Commanding Officer should arrive last. However, whoever the long-dead bureaucrat was who had written the rule, he had never tasted Chris's cooking. As soon as the message chimed on his terminal, the Colonel was on his feet and heading full steam toward the galley.

He was in a good mood. His ship was fully crewed and with Anderson back on board, they were already on their way to the gate. The anticipation of the next expedition had still not grew tiresome for John. Even at forty six and with more than a few years as a Pathfinder, the thrill of touching down on a new world was a sensation like no other.

John nodded a friendly greeting to Chris as he sat himself at the table. He was looking forward to getting tucked in but would wait for his crew before he started.

 

[LawPhilos]

After leaving the briefing room, Dr. Leroy headed straight to the infirmary as he wanted to get back to work. He still had most of an entire ship’s worth of medical supplies and equipment to examine and catalogue. Part of his initial duties as a new medical officer.

When he neared the doors of the medbay, they slid open for him and he entered the moderately sized, well lit room. Its walls were white and floors a light blue. Various climbing plants hung down the walls in alcoves at evenly spaced intervals. The ceiling sloped up and down at different points to give it an organic feel. Everything was designed to create a calming, convivial environment. It wasn’t his habit to often consider his work settings, but he was rather pleased about this being his base of operations, his office in a sense, the most charming he’d ever had. And all to his own.

Reaching for his medical coat which was draped on the chair behind his desk, he put it on and walked over to the first of three medbeds, pad still in hand. He used it to enter various commands to the bed (from establishing a forcefield to changing its surface temperature) to test that it was functioning properly. There was of course an inbuilt screen he could have used on its side, but Leroy had always felt it was much more convenient to access everything wirelessly from his one device’s interface.

After having just finished recalibrating the third medbed’s molecular scanner, a message appeared on his screen. It was a summons to the mess hall. He tried to recall the meal the burly man had said he was going to prepare. Something about chickens and salads. It didn’t sound very appealing to him and he wasn’t particularly keen about the idea of wasting time eating with a bunch of rowdy shipmates. But he pushed aside this lack of enthusiasm and quickly exited the room. Punctuality was something he prided himself on.

When Leroy arrived at the mess hall, he saw that Colonel John was already there. He lifted a hand briefly to acknowledge both Christopher and the Colonel as he seated himself next to the latter.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

"Hey Doc," John said with a warm smile as the young man sat next to him. Leroy had only been on the ship a couple of days and apart from his initial introduction to the new medic, their interactions had been few and far between. Come to think of it, John hadn't heard any of the rest of the crew say much about the doctor either. Leroy had spent the majority his time in the med bay, brininging it up to his own standard.

Not that John had issue with that. He admired a man with a work ethic and so far everything about Leroy suggested he was a steadfast professional, if a little on the quiet side.

"Glad you could join us. Settling in so far?"

 

[LawPhilos]

"Yes, thank you," the doctor replied in an ever formal tone, glancing up at the man sat next to him. It was more of an automatism than a genuine response, but Leroy had learned that most people weren't actually looking for a proper answer when they asked questions like that. Nonetheless he thought it best to stir up the conversation in some way. Just to spare Colonel John from further awkward silence until the other more talkative crew members arrived. Not that silence would have bothered Roy, he'd have been quite content to return to his tablet without another word. But he knew that being considerate of others was a big part of communal life.

"So... Uh-Is everything on the ship in order?" he asked, nonchalantly. Not the best piece of small talk he had come up with, but since he hadn't had anytime time to prepare, he was quite satisfied with it anyways.

 

[NemoTheSurvivor]

After the briefing, Nova headed to the helm of the ship and proceeded to fly the Relentless towards their destination. The flight thus far was relatively uninteresting, aside from a slight course correction to avoid a stray meteor, leaving Nova to pull up some word puzzles and pass the time solving them. Her latest puzzle was interrupted as Olsen sent out a message saying food was ready. Nova pinged an acknowledgement before turning her attention to the helm. According to the navigation charts, they would be relatively clear for the next couple of hours. "Now or never," she mumbled to herself, activating the autopilot and proximity alarm before leaving the helm unmanned as she headed to the galley.

After a short walk, Nova entered the galley. Haverson and Sartre were already there. "Colonel. Lieutenant. Uh, Cook," she said as she greeted everyone in the room. She picked up a tray and sat down at an open seat, digging into her food and listening in to the conversation.