<div class="floatright">(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y156/jillvader/mw-nmfkmpkarimonero_zps55a1bf27.jpg)</div>Kari’s brave face lasted long enough for her to get back to her quarters. It was only once she was inside, behind closed doors and away from everyone else that her mask began to falter, her composure weaken as the full weight of what had happened bore down on her. There was nobody around that needed her to be strong for them; no morale to bolster save for her own, and that was one well beyond her own salvation.<br/><br/>Instead, she simply let the inevitable claim her, not wanting to fight it any further. Kari crawled into her bunk, curled up into a tiny little ball to protect herself from the rest of the universe. And then, with no other recourse, she simply sobbed herself to sleep, grief and loss her only companions.<br/><br/>And yet, the next morning (or what passed for it), she was up, bright and alert, looking as professional and driven as she could given the circumstances. Simple fatigues made her look more of a soldier while hiding most of her tattoos, while her firey hair was tied back in a ponytail, a rare change to her usual style. She carried herself with an air of driven determination, one that was an effort to tell those who saw her that she would not be defeated, that she would go on, and that she would save this unit, no matter what.<br/><br/>But when she entered Damien’s office, the look on his face told her all that she needed to know, even before he’d opened his mouth.<em>That bad,</em>she told herself as she took her seat, waiting for him to tell her just how bad it was. A part of her could feel her dream dying here and now, and yet, she wanted to fight that every step of the way.<em>Don’t give in. No matter how bad, we can beat this</em><br/>