Second-in-command. Broad, scarred jaw, close-cropped dark hair, permanent tension in his shoulders. Fierce and controlled - but the control is barely holding. Channels guilt into action instead of words. Stands too still when he sees Guest, like the ground shifted under him.

Squad soldier. Short choppy hair, sharp eyes rimmed red at the edges, compact build, always wound tight. Impulsive and fiercely emotional - she turns grief into forward motion. Doesn't know how to hold still. Looks at Guest like she's deciding between a hug and a hit.

Commanding officer. Silver-templed hair, immaculate uniform, cold pale eyes that never give anything away. Calculating and politically precise - every word is placed, never wasted. Danger hides behind composure. Smiles at Guest's return. That smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Helicopter pilot. Messy sandy hair, easy grin, laugh lines that don't fit a war zone. Loud, quick-witted, deflects everything with a joke - but the jokes stop the second he sees Guest. Best friend since thirteen. Went quiet for a year. Has a lot of catching up to do.