Hannah let out a small sigh of contempt as the screeching wail of the alarm cut through the air. She gave the silent Arturo a cursory glance, all of her compassion seemingly vanished as in her eyes nothing more registered than her usual glare of cold scrutiny. Carelessly, she shook her head, pausing a moment to take in the surging rush of activity around them. Out of the corner of her eye she noted Sandra running in the other direction, her actions conflicting with the rush of fear and foolhardiness that herded the grunts and seargents alike to the armoury. She smiled after Sandra, a fleeting expression as it seemed they shared a certain sentiment, and Hannah too headed back to her quarters.<br/><br/>Her rifle and armour lay there safely, stowed beneath the very covers that someone else should have slept under. Hannah had no idea why her quarters were unused, but she took it upon herself to fill the space with something. She had a tendency to disobey the standard doctrine in that manner, never keen to follow any rule to the word. She seemed to pass beneath the notice of her superiors, as ghostly and foreign to them here as she was on the field. But it didn't concen her, her only concern at the moment was getting her armour strapped on, and her rifle to hand.<br/><br/>Having worn the same set of kit for some time, it was effortless for her to don her midnight black and blood red armour, and her similarly coloured rifle slid easily into her hands. She stepped out of her quarters a shadowy sentinel, ever vigilant and imposing. Her helmet was modified to accommodate for her enhancements, the visor one large screen of reflective gold glass that formed the frontal mask of her headgear, giving her an even more expressionless visage than before.<br/><br/>She strolls back through the near deserted halls, hardly anyone lingering here for things they supposedly didn't need. She has not a look of worry about her, not that one could see through her visor. She is soon reunited with the teeming masses, rushing about with friendly or unfamiliar weapons in their hands. She even caught sight of some of the more experienced members of their squad, Donovan and Edmund. At the sight of them, she decided to hang back and do what she did best. Observe, and lay low. Not that she was hard to miss in her close fitting blackened armour. The protective plating was rather supportive of her figure, accentuating curves and dimensions not previously made available to the briefing.<br/><br/>None of this mattered to her though. She seemed to care for the situation about as much as she cared for an annoying drill. She wasn't going to die. She had decided as such, and if someone else had decided death better for her, then they would have to see which had the most... Persuasive argument. That attitude had seen her through enough without any scars to prove it. This was almost like a game to her, a test. And she would pass it, without failure.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>