Blackburn was exhausted. Currently the leaders of the Haven (general quarters) had him running for supplies and survivors. He didn't care who they were, who they pledged allegiance to, he helped anyone who needed it. He'd been running on little to no sleep. He finally completed his last run, he'd helped an eldar female back to camp. She was as ungrateful and had a huge chip on her shoulder, at least to begin with. A couple of firefights later and close calls later and her tune changed.
Her checked her into the gate, and headed here, the small area he called his home. It wasn't much but he'd gotten it as part of his agreement with the haven. Solo quarters with tools and material to fix and tinker with his gear. He exited his Exosuit and fell face first into his bed.
When he woke he dressed and went to one of the bars in the haven. He didn't have a lot of money, but he didn't need it. He had an understanding with one of the barkeepers.
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