"Stew sounds great!" Rob grinned. "You can keep your brownies, I need something with substance, haha!" He realized it wasn't funny but he laughed anyway, relieving the pressure. His knees were still slightly wobbly from the moment he was glancing through the retinal scanner. He still felt the trigger pressing against the skin on his finger. He was seconds away from blowing his brains out.<br/><br/>He took a bowl and poured some of the hot stew into it, growling to the beautifully smelling steam. He nodded to Luc and headed back to the main mess hall, determined to observe the situation, to stay close to the people and to be there if something happens.<br/><br/>When something happens, a treacherous voice echoed in his mind. Not if. When. Because the virus was here, and something always happened when the virus was around.<br/><br/>Rob chose a table away from the crowd, towards the corner of the room, and he sat down, quietly observing the situation while he was waiting for his stew to cool down a bit. It didn't look good. People were being dragged out - some pleading, others silent, faithless. The badly injured moaned, some discussed something nervously, leaning towards each other, whispering. Blood and panic was what this bunch was about. Rob shook his head. It was moments like these when he questioned his own faith. How to help these civilians?<br/><br/>He thought about his own men out there. He'd heard shots - and only military staff was allowed guns, and he was the highest ranked military in this facility. He had a total of 21 men - probably 20 now, considering the slim chances of Sunshine having survived whatever he had encountered out there in the hallway. Twenty men, most of them young privates sent on a peaceful assignment to watch over boring excavations and dorky scientists. And now they were trapped somewhere out there, shooting and screaming, fighting for their lives, back against the wall.<br/><br/>He sighed and he turned his attention to the stew. Well done, Luc... it was really good.