Kalina Kovalic
In any other circumstance, Kalina wouldn't have bothered to give the civvie bleating for help a second thought. WARDENs were trained to kill their enemies first, not play fire rescue for every idiot that got caught in a free fire zone. But that wasn't a civvie. That was a complete and utter asshole. Then again, it'd been four years. Maybe she was remembering the voice wrong.
She leapt to the side of the RV the voice had came from, investigating the knocked out man. And...damn it. It was him. Ivan Vorokov. An associate of the Marauders by proxy, in that he ran supplies and logistics, acquiring whatever materiel the unit needed. Or at least he would be if he wasn't an unreliable cheat, swindler, coward, and all-around dirtbag. Unfortunately, his contact list in both Rassvet and Vangar was too extensive to justify giving him the boot. So Kalina needed to keep him alive. She narrowed her eyes, a low sigh coming out of her breath as she squatted down to heft his unconscious body over one shoulder.
"Gerard, bringing a casualty over to you." She intoned over the telecomm. "He's mission-critical to my father's unit. I need him alive." It was a rare occasion that Kalina actually asked for anything directly, but this was too important. She sprinted over towards Gerard and the Princess's location, dumping Ivan's sorry form off in front of her teammate and giving him a brief stare to impart the gravity of the situation on him before she turned to dash back into the fray.