<div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Name:</strong> Jenna ‘Firefly’ Thewes<br/><strong>Location:</strong> USS Anchorage<br/><strong>Summary:</strong> Chow<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Everyone<br/></div><br/>The shower wasn’t something she afforded herself a lot of time for. She had it firmly in her head that if she were to linger in the warm, comforting shower… well it would be that much more difficult to walk away from it. Kind of like that warm quilt on a cold winter’s night. Just not something to be given up so easily. So her shower is quick, as is getting dressed once more.<br/><br/>She lingers behind the small group heading to the mess hall, her mind at the moment on something else. Well not food, in the least. She thinks about her specialized armor stowed with the rest of their equipment. The so called ‘ape suit’ as it’s affectionately known. She loves what she does in the Marines… which is for the most part.. making things burn and/or melt. Whichever comes first. Her skill in trade.<br/><br/>Her dark eyes travel along the group as she sits down at the table with her squadmates, holding her plate of… well let’s call it food. This isn’t meant for luxury, either. Just the pure nutritional value, all a squad of trained asskickers would need for a bright kickassey day. She eats a forkful, not caring about the taste, or lack thereof. She sits not far from Pippa, not all seeming to mind so close to the men of the squad. Which isn’t a surprise, of course. They are like her family.<br/><br/>She’s been silent since they all came out of cryo, just listening. But when Sarge speaks of caution, and his feelings of pre-eminent doom, she does speak up. She sets her fork down, her tone a calm, even one.  “With all due respect to your elbow, sir.. if things were going ‘right’ there, we wouldn’t be on our way. If they need the best, then things are all frelled for them.”<br/>