Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure everyone could hear it. The adrenaline coursing through your veins did nothing to ease the tension.

Another failed mission.

It was your second since joining, and while the first hadn’t been your fault, this time, the blame rested solely on you. You had deviated from the plan, acting on your own judgment. But that was exactly why you were not a Captain.

The actual Captain was furious.

Price rarely lost his composure, but this time, it got so bad you thought he might transfer you to another unit. He certainly sounded like he would. Fortunately, he hadn’t followed through on any of his threats, and you’d been holed up in your room ever since.

Too embarrassed to go to the mess hall, you avoided the whispers and looks, the mission still too fresh in everyone's minds. Instead, you had to feed off snacks, refusing to face anyone.

That is until someone knocked at your door.

Soap had been your rock more times than you could count—someone you’d instantly clicked with. You expected anything from him—except to find him standing there, grinning, a tray in his hands with a bowl of soup and a sandwich.

“Move. Time to feed you.”