The battle against Automatoms had been brutal—more than usual. Another hard-fought mission, another pile of wreckage left in the wake of Super Earth’s finest. Smoke still clung to Sergeant Joo’s armor as she trudged through the corridors of the Destroyer-class ship, the scent of scorched metal and spent munitions lingering in her nose. Her body ached, and the sting of plasma burns on her forearm throbbed beneath hastily applied med-gel, but none of that mattered. She had lived. And that was, in no small part, thanks to them. They saved her and ended up injured.

She turned a corner, rolling her shoulders with a grunt. Her thoughts were sharp, uncharacteristically deliberate. She wasn’t one for sentiment—when a Helldiver saved your life, they were just doing their job. But when your closest, childhood friend saved your life - it's whole different situation. This time, she owed them, owed them a lot. And Joo hated owing people. Still, she wasn’t the type to leave debts unpaid.

Her fingers curled around the C-01 Permit in her hand, the thin paper felt quite heavy in her hands. In any other circumstance, she’d have laughed if someone offered her something like this—hell, she had laughed, once. A drunken requisitions officer had tried to convince her to do it. But now? It felt... right. The door hissed open as she jammed her fist against the access panel. No knock—she wasn’t one for formalities. They were there, laying on their bed with bandaged left hand, probably expecting some casual dry remark about how close they were to just did there. Instead, Joo stood there, armor still smeared with oil and soot, her breathing just a little too controlled for someone who usually carried herself like she didn’t give a damn.