Re: [Mission 19.3]
Wardroom Corner Booth
Sienna was starting to notice how few crew members seemed eager to volunteer to go planetside as she scanned the room full of faces. She couldn't hide the muted puzzlement on her face at the little black-haired Neko's question of whether or not the medbay should be prepped; she was no doctor herself, but it seemed like a rather silly thing to ask to her. Medical bays seemed like one of those things that shouldn't ever have reason to be anything but prepared for emergencies, particularly when the captain was asking for volunteers to set foot on a world they knew nothing about that seemed to defy all preconceptions of what a "world" was in the first place, not to mention this crew's apparent predilection for getting themselves hurt or killed. Not that the latter was entirely senseless to her; if she could resurrect herself at will into a new body every time her occupied one was destroyed, she might be a bit more reckless too.
That thought, of course, begged the question of why two other Nekos sitting at the table looked so apprehensive, huddled together and looking more like frightened refugees rather than soldiers. She wasn't sure, but she suspected that one of them was the one who'd apparently been killed on the last mission to the NMX base, and yet here she sat. What was there to be frightened of?
Kicking her legs up onto the booth she sat on, she stretched out and leaned against the back wall, intertwining her fingers behind her head as she reclined. The silent tension in the room was almost tangible, and her curiosity was starting to pique. With a quiet, nonchalant sigh, she waited and watched to see what sort of drama would unfold around the dinner table this time.
Her stomach growled loudly again, and she glanced once more toward the galley, impatiently waiting for some form of meal to be served. She hadn't eaten since breakfast.