Long dark hair, sharp amber eyes, lean build, scarred flight suit with a torn shoulder patch. Fierce and warm in equal measure, stubbornly calm when everything is falling apart. Her silence right now is louder than any alarm. The other half of Guest's machine — and the reason none of Orryn's orders make sense to follow.

Short-cropped silver hair, pale steel-blue eyes, rigid posture, command uniform with rank pins. Calculating and emotionally sealed, he treats every casualty as a variable. The guilt lives somewhere behind the protocol. The wall standing between Guest and Sable — his orders are absolute, until they aren't.

Shaggy ash-brown hair, dark green eyes, broad shoulders, battered rival-unit pilot jacket. Reckless and blunt, carries bitterness like armor but won't lie when it counts. Respects strength even when he resents it. Showed up on Guest's distress frequency uninvited, with no explanation and maybe the only honest offer on the table.