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Packing
#1
Torri acknowledged her checklist one last time before zipping up her rucksack. Uniforms, kit and belongings were all accounted for. Her medical gear would stay separate and on her person at all times excluding the most formal of events.

Satisfied, she put the finishing touches on her pack and reached for the phone to call down for transport, but before she finished punching in the code, the television blared awake.

Her face snapped toward the other room and a thin line pressed her lips together. Moments later, she was pressing her forearm to a scanner embedded beneath the system, and once clearance was assured, the feed sprang to life.

"At ease, Captain Weston,"
the speaker ordered, and Torri relaxed her stance, not at all bothered by the abrupt interruption to her life there in her own living room.

The caller was a red-blonde woman named Jan a paygrade above Torri herself, but Jan worked in the Executive Office of the Ascendancy as military liaison. The only time she contacted Torri was to deliver a message regarding the Facility, which fell under EOA command. It had been weeks since Krasivolkya was the face on the monitor, but Torri did not question what happened to the woman. She had appeared unwell during the tour at the Facility. Torri's investigation found a diagnosis of a mild panic attack, but further investigation as to the government official's whereabouts were hidden behind clearance-walls. Torri subsequently ceased further investigation.

"Is there a message, ma'am?" Torri asked, flatly. She was prepared for the journey to DV. She was going to travel in Subject 22's ... Alric's... company, both as physician and as a expert on The Sickness, which she now was, more intimately than she ever wanted. DV was no more immune than the rest of the world by their own cases. There were samples to collect, and Torri was going to be there to see it done. Why else would the Facility order her to travel with the Ascendancy's caravan?

She accepted the following orders with a stern nod and salute. Finally, when the feed was closed, a thin line pressed her lips together.
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