Having woken up before the crack of dawn, Eight ha already gotten dressed and was in her armor. She had her standard ration breakfast that was supplied to every stormtrooper, it wasn't luxurious by any standard, or anything even as good as what her parents used to give her, but it didn't matter to the female. Being a trooper came with having to deal with these sorts of things and it's part of what she accepted.

Sitting in the camp, she was working on maintaining her jetpack. The thing was one of high maintenance to keep to her standards; shutting down mid battle or malfunctioning was unacceptable and lethal if it happened. This particular trooper's work was interrupted by the sounds of another tantrum from the sith. She merely grunted, having learned to numb her emotions to this particular child's antics. Had it not of been suicide, the female would have probably done something about him killing some of the best of the best the first order had. Killing Jedi was one thing, this sith was another. However, she just resumed work on her jetpack, that filling up her mind instead of the murders going on a mere distance of a few yards away. The maintenance she was performing was capable of being quickly halted and ready for combat at a moment's notice.