Dawn’s grey eyes glanced toward the wall-mounted display with something between excitement and caution, her eyebrows quirked slightly upward. The monitor had been dark for quite some time now, as the massive ships carrying the entire 22nd Division lumbered through the void of space. Something must have changed. It was too soon for them to arrived at their destination – a Grey world where they were to assist the 25th – so it was possible that they were pausing to refuel. It was a fairly standard practice, but one that required them to be on the lookout for Greys.<br/><br/>She tabbed quickly through the message with one finger, nodding to herself. There wasn’t too much information – only orders to report to be briefed  – but there was very little urgency to it; they couldn’t have run into any Greys. Dawn sighed to herself; with any luck, they wouldn’t run into any for some time to come.<br/><br/>She closed the book she’d been reading – a fantasy novel about elves and magic – and set it carefully down on the bed. Of the three ships carrying the division’s ten thousand soldiers, she’d been stationed on the third, ever the odd one out. She’d ended up with a room almost to herself –<i>almost</i>because she’d only ever seen her supposed roommate<i>once</i>. It was for the best. She was a very quiet person, and her reputation as the Wraith usually only made people wary of her. She didn’t really mind, though; she had her book, and she was sure the others were happier wherever they were.<br/><br/>Dawn threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, letting her feet sway idly just above the floor. The room’s cool air ghosted over her bare skin, goosebumps blossoming in its wake. With a little sigh, she stretched to her feet. It wasn’t as if lounging around in bed all day was very fun, anyway. Peering one last time around the spartan room, she grabbed a towel and stepped into the hall.<br/><br/>The hall was empty, as she’d thought it would be. Most of the marines were probably still waking up, having just gotten the briefing alert. She was lucky that the showers were directly opposite her quarters; it saved her having to parade herself through the halls in nothing but a towel. She smirked slightly at that, wondering if anyone would even care, and promptly vanished into the bathroom.<br/><br/>She smiled at the sound of water scattering against the floor, clouds of steam rolling up to caress her naked form. If there was one thing she liked about mornings – and there wasn’t often much to like about them in the PGMC – it was showering. She hummed softly to herself as hot water coursed down her small frame, her long black hair clinging to her back and shoulders. She cleaned herself mechanically, humming the whole time, her mind elsewhere. She’d be fighting again soon enough, she knew, and this little voyage was nothing but a short reprieve. It was up to them to defeat the Greys, to end their oppression of humanity and countless alien species. If humanity was to survive, they had to win.<br/><br/><i>Could</i>they win at all, against such a superior foe?<br/><br/>She shut off the flow of water, shaking her head. It wasn’t as if they had a choice. The 22nd was what mattered – if it survived, humanity would follow. She’d fight and die for them if she had to, the men and women who fought for humanity at her side.<i>But still,</i>she thought with a smirk,<i>I’d rather it not come to that.</i><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>