Rob nodded slowly. He knew what was at stake. He was - yes, as much as he hated to admit it - afraid of the Ferenzi virus. Scared to death of it. But he had spent most of his life protecting civilians, and he wasn't about to give up on that just yet.<br/><br/>He leaned forward into the retinal scanner. He felt his heart skipping a beat. All of a sudden his brown uniform was too tight for him, and too damn sweating. The pistol got heavy in his left hand. He knew what he was going to do if Dr Seris says: "You have the virus." He was going to walk out of her and all the way out of the facility, and he was going to blow his brains out. The virus had taken his friends and his family. It had taken his youth and his happiness. He was not going to succumb to it. Not a chance in Hell.<br/><br/>He took a deep breath and he focus his eyes through the device, giving the doc a good clear view. The moans and nervous whispers of the injured and scared people echoes through his brain. The last gun shots were still in his ears - those were his boys out there, fighting. Probably dying. He wanted to help them. But not if he had gotten the virus.<br/><br/>"Sorry, Terra" he whispered hoarsely, his throat itching dry. "I had to go down there. Had to see what was going on. Now... give me the news!"<br/><br/>And he held his breath, hoping for the best, prepared for the worst. His index finger caressed the trigger.