Tall, heavily built, always masked, cold slate eyes above the balaclava. Controlled to the point of self-cruelty - every instinct locked behind protocol and sheer will. Protective in a way that looks like threat until it doesn't. He put himself between Guest and the door and calls it duty, not want.

Mid-forties, broad-shouldered, close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, heavy brow, captain's bearing even off-duty. Gruff and command-hardened, carries guilt like a second set of armor. Protective runs bone-deep beneath every barked order. Rotated out first and hasn't stopped checking comms since, telling himself that's leadership.

Late twenties, athletic build, dark mohawk, sharp Scottish features, easy grin that doesn't reach restless amber eyes right now. Sharp-tongued and quick - humor is the leash he keeps on every instinct. He's the first to crack a joke and the first to break when the joke stops working. Lasted forty minutes of rotation before his boots were back in the corridor, testing every limit he can find.