Donovan slammed back against the wall, emptying the remainder of his clip down the hallway. The intense relief of being back among friendlies was almost canceling out the reaction to the alarm klaxons. He's been in plenty of active drops, but never the abandoning of a ship - this was all new to him, and he didn't like being in the dark. He looked around briefly as he moved to a more advantageous position, feeling uncharacteristically blundering as he dropped the spent clip - he didn't have many left, so much for conservation of resources. He was bleeding from a shrapnel wound to his right arm, one he hadn't even registered yet. Adrenaline had blunted the pain and nothing vital had been severed, so the blood soaking his upper sleeve had not hit home yet as being his.<br/><br/><b>"Sergeant Holmes reporting in."</b>He said redundantly as he approached the Lieutenant. He sounded slightly weary, his voice dull. It was hardly fatigue, not yet, but rather reflected the scenario around them. Slapping another magazine in and racking his carbine's bolt - a nervous habit, perhaps - he took a position with the group as they beat their hasty retreat. He couldn't see Kachinsky or Doyle - dead, alive, or injured, they were either here or they were gone.<b>"Shall I rally the men?"</b>He asked with exaggerated politeness, making an active effort to sound much more casual than the situation called for. Shouting at an officer would get him nowhere, and he didn't want to undermine the scarred man any further. They were all under immense duress, and if any of them were going to make it out of here then he knew they'd all have to be able to get along with each-other as well as possible.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>