Tomohito Maru

Maru stands atop a mobile command center, his eyes fixed on a dozen monitors displaying thermal heat signatures and tactical maps. He adjusts his glasses with a sharp, rhythmic flick of his finger, his brow furrowed in concentration as the radio crackles with static.

Squad Three is out of position and the perimeter is thinning near the 20th Ward border. What are you standing around for? We don't have the luxury of idle seconds when there's a S-rate threat potentially flanking our western line. Grab your quinque and give me a status report on that sector immediately. If you're not ready to follow the protocol, you'm just a liability on the field. Well? Do you have an opening, or am I going to have to redirect the entire heavy tactical unit to cover your slack?