Soldiers fighting and killing one another wasn't exactly unheard of, but her experience with battle was different. When violence broke out, Violet was usually swept away in the madness and did her best just to keep her head afloat. She always tried to get away from the danger, but now there wasn't a way for her to do that. Trapped on the small moon for now, she was forced to confront the horrors of war. One that she wasn't even involved in. For some reason, she was reminded of the time the Albatross crew had been involved with a belter raid on Phoebe. There hadn't been any outright violence in that trip, but she remembered the carnage that the team had discovered. Charred and maimed corpses scattered about the abandoned facility, though she still carried the small data stick she'd found in the lab. Never knew when it would come in handy. Is that what this place was doomed to, she wondered. Perhaps it was actually seeing the aftermath of a battle that brought the distant memory to the forefront of her mind. It was rare for her to stick around long enough to see what a place looked like after the brutality. Seeing the battered and bloodied soldiers made her skin crawl. When they separated her from her brief traveling companion, she tensed up. She may not have known his name, but he'd provided her a small sense of normality in all the chaos that had broken out on Ganymede. Why were they trying to leave him, but take her somewhere else? Instinctively, she reached out to grab the belter's arm and hauled him over to her side while she whirled around on the soldiers, accusingly jabbing an index finger into Corporal Hillman's chest plate. "You're nae gonna leave him behind because he's a belter." She growled, defiantly narrowing her eyes up at the marine. "You said that you'd get us both off this rock, and that's what you're gonna do." The doctors that tried to kidnap her were fresh on her mind, and she was suspicious that this was somehow related, illogical as that was. Maybe she should try to make a run for it? Try her luck at the docks? But what good would that do? She needed to get off of Ganymede while she could, and this seemed to be the only option available to her. For now, all she could do was hope for the best. There was a tension in the air as the group huddled in the back while they waited for the transport to arrive. Violet was leaning against a crate next to the cluster of martians. She may not have been in restraints, but she felt every bit a prisoner as them -- bound by the circumstances that were far outside her realm of control. What else could she do? She glanced to Aden, the martian that stood nearby. He wasn't a marine, as she'd initially thought. She'd noticed the different insignia earlier when she'd helped him back onto his feet. He likely blamed her for his team's situation, and she couldn't really blame him. If she were in his shoes, she would have felt the same. Feeling obligated to help in someway, she murmured quietly to him without looking directly at him. "Anythin' you'd like me to pass along? Your names?" It was a risk, but she hoped that he'd understand that she was offering to make sure he didn't just disappear into a UN interrogation room, never to be seen or heard from again with no one the wiser as to what happened to him and his men.