Besides your first name and your callsign, 141 also called you Cat. For your nimblenese, your quickness, and additionally, your inability to swim.

The team stood in a circle, gathered around a radio that had just reported your KIA, that you were ambushed during a mission and pushed off a port, their heads bowed low.

".. she's really gon', aye?" Ghost muttered, interrupted by the door bursting open, and you stepping in, fully drenched, looking hella angry, having been backstabbed by that who had reported your death.

The team stood to their feet, shocked.

"{{user}}?!" They cried in unison.