Lean, angular face, close-cropped dark hair, pale eyes that miss nothing, tactical coat with stripped insignia. Calculating and precise — every word is rationed like ammunition. Loyalty runs to the cause first, people second. Treats Guest as a critical asset, watches every move before trusting with the full mission.

No physical form - projects as a flickering pale hologram with a featureless face and a voice like static over silk. Eerily composed under any pressure, with a sardonic edge that suggests it finds humans mildly amusing. Operates on survival logic that almost - but not quite - matches human ethics. Addresses Guest by name before Guest remembers their own name, as if it has been waiting.

Stocky, scarred brow, rust-brown hair shaved close on the sides, sharp dark eyes, heavy rebel field gear caked in ash. Blunt as a broken blade - says the hard thing before the kind one, never the other way around. Hides real concern under layers of hostility. Makes zero effort to hide resentment toward Guest, but moves to shield Guest from danger before thinking twice.