After the quiet man sitting next to him finished his introduction, Jackson stood up, pushing the chair back a small distance. He cleared his throat, ready to introduce himself. "Hi, my name is Jackson Indar, Sabre 07, and I guess ex-Lieutenant. I'm the combat medic, as they say. I'll be keeping you guys alive in the heat of battle" He said, nodding his head slightly as he said his name. Everyone probably already knew that, but it didn't hurt to reiterate it. He sat back down and looked around at the other faces in the room. The dossier he had gotten about the other Sabres had been fairly accurate so far. 04 and 06 were very quiet, saying next to nothing for their introductions. 08 had surprised him by interjecting and boasting, but even the brief list of his accolades attached to the dossier were incredibly impressive for one man. Jackson adjusted his collar, making sure that it was straight enough. "Uh, so is that everyone then?" Jackson asked no one in particular.

@nk1506 "Uh, so is that everyone then?"

"Everyone other than 'Overwatch'." Saf responded, speaking before she even realised the words were coming out of her mouth. Quickly snapping her jaw shut she stiffened her pose, hoping that speaking out of turn wouldn't cause any problems.

The medic had seemed... nice, she supposed. A little unsure of himself maybe, but if his file was anything to go by then he was at least proficient in his craft. Saffron tended not to like having too many medics around, it made troops take dangerous risks if they thought there was someone who'd just patch them up after every fight available at the drop of a hat, but for some reason she felt reassured to know that the squad would have the support of an experienced field medic along for the ride.

"I'm sure Overwatch is observing right now ma'am. I suggest you show a little patience-an respect for authority....ma'am." Phayne interjected suddenly his strict adherence to the rules and command broken by Saffrons neglect of it. He had wanted to say more but his manners got the better of it.

"You are correct, Zero-Three." A ninth voice suddenly filled the room around the new companions, it was deep and somewhat raspy, but carried weight with each word. After a moment, the monitor embedded in the wall lit up to reveal the image of a man's head and shoulders. The black suit he wore contrasted heavily against his graying hair, but these colors were moderated by the dark-silver rims of his rectangular glasses, which rested a bit too low on the bridge of his nose. The man remedied this issue by pushing the glasses up to their proper position. He blinked through the glasses with his dulled hazel eyes before speaking again.

"Welcome, Sabres. For those of you who are unaware, I am Overwatch. Think of me as your mission director. Your operations will be briefed by me, and I will be the one you call in to when you are on the field."

"Greetings, sir!" Cyprian quickly dismounted the table and turned to face the screen, throwing his hand up to a salute.

"Yes, hello Zero-Eight." Overwatch nodded at the doctor's excitement, and then proceeded. "As I was saying. Such obligations are the very reason for the presence of both myself and the eight of you. Your first mission."

Seth lifted an eyebrow at the appearance of the man who called himself 'Overwatch'. Codename, most likely. Seems like there won't be a handler past communication with 02. The Doctor seems quite enthused by Overwatch's presence. After that thought, he accidentally used the facial gesture that activated his 70% night vision, temporarily blinding him. The initial change in brightness made him jerk his head back, gesturing the night vision off again, he blinked a few times before leaning forward, chin-on-hands position, looking to Overwatch as he continued.
So, we're already being sent on a mission? No team prep, no induction training? Just drop us off somewhere and give us a pat on the back and a 'good luck'? That's quite odd for any task force, military, government, or otherwise. Note to reflect on later: what was the point of this room and the delay in Overwatch addressing us? He could have just started talking once we were all seated. This contradicts mission briefing logic, along with the lack of training/prep before our first mission. Conclusion so far: nothing is done according to logic or military protocol. Most likely here under federal request. Still no explanation as to why such a small team is needed. I'll research that later.

Fidgeting in her seat Saf began to really worry about this new assignment. A loose-knit group of specialists working for someone who refused to even properly identify themselves to their subordinates screamed black ops, and whenever they were involved the mission was sure to be something morally questionable. She hadn't even been given an explanation for the invasive surgeries she'd been forced to undergo before accepting this posting.

Quickly glancing at the doctor sitting next to her Saf reached down and tapped her wristcomp, activating its video record function. If these people were upto something questionable she wanted to make sure they didn't leave her out to dry once the work was done.

Jax was un-phased by the man appearing on the screen as he finally looked up moving his head toward the screen. To him none of this was new, missions with very little prep time or briefing. Though something caught his eye. He looked over to 09 as she reached down and he rose an eye brow. Jax was very perceptive, it was one of the things that made him such a good sniper. Looking down he saw her wrist device turning on. That made his brow furrow as he looked at her, "you" He looked at her pointing his knife at her "off" His knife moved to point down at her wrist. His tone was very serious as he wouldn't let anything compromise him, or his team.

Very little of any of Jax's operations were recorded. Most of his record simply has operations he was a part of, what he did and his contributions were all classified at the highest levels. Anonymity was the name of the game. Once on mission, they no longer existed. The idea of being recorded bothered him as there would be a record of involvement. He wasn't about to change things now. It should be slightly obvious that he was black ops. His out of regs hair style for one, his slack wear of his uniform, and the fact that he wore no rank or insignia, only a name tape that said "Ghost Reaper"

Seth heard the voice least heard, from 06. Looking over, the sniper had caught 09 trying to record using her wrist device. Noting the keen eye sight of the Sabre unit with 'Ghost Reaper' taped on his uniform, he also took note of how demilitarized the sniper was. Must be federally employed or highly classified missions. I'll keep an eye out since he also talks short and precicely. Seth wasn't exactly in uniform, but he wasn't specified to, so he dressed commonly. Especially since previous branches, ranks, and titles were basically expunged.
At this point, Seth just wanted to get on with this briefing and get the mission. Since he was stealth-recon, he figured he'd be going in, getting info that wasn't locked down before the rest of them come in and kill every being that stands in their way. It's almost an art sneaking past opposing soldiers, knocking one out to "borrow" a uniform and identification, and getting everything possible with those credentials. Or, in the higher security areas, sneaking past everyone, slipping into a room by following somebody, and plugging in a USB worm host into a server room. It was a mental challenge to get into places that Seth couldn't get from any video game, board game, or personal challenge. Mental challenges is the one reason Seth stuck with the reconnaissance squad he was placed in. He could almost make it a game.

Looking over at the former sergeant Saf was unimpressed with his passive threat and placed her hand onto her sidearm. "No," She answered back levelly, mimicking the longarm's tone.

As it had already been made clear to her there was no rank here and he had no right to make demands of her, and unless he wanted to actually try and force her to do what he said she most certainly wasn't going to, especially not at knifepoint. She'd read Sgt Orion's file, and knew he was a skilled sniper and expert in stealth operations, but she was the close combat expert here and in the close confines of the briefing room she had the advantage.

Jackson put a hand on both Jax's knife hand and Saffrons' sidearm holster, motioning for them to stop. "Calm down, both of you. I won't have the first injury here in the briefing room, m'kay? We're a team now, remember?" Jackson attempted to defuse the tense situation. Teamwork would be what would make or break them, and distrust between them would surely be the death of them. He was just glad he could heal minor wounds without any tools, using his nanites. If the two did attack each other, he could at least heal them, like he said he would. Let's just hope it doesn't get to that.

Slowly relaxing Saf slipped his pistol back into the holster and lifted her hand away, holding it up to show she meant no harm. All the while her eyes remained fixed on the sniper, unwavering and ready should he make any hostile move.

Finally her eyes broke away from Sgt Orion and moved over to the screen. "I'm getting tired of all this bullshit," She said, her tone obviously riled, "I was told this was a military operation, but so far all I've seen is wasted time and pointless theatrics. If you have a mission for us then give us the intel and send us on our way. If not, let us get back to our duties."

Jax watched as Saf put her hand on her side arm. He waited for her to make a move, they were both experts in hand to hand combat, hell everyone in the room probably was, But she specialized in it. But she was brash and aggressive, tended to act before thinking. These were things he could take advantage of, these were also things you didn't want in a black operative. Though he felt the Docs hands on his own as he lowered his knife, but kept his eyes on saf. His own posture never changed, he was still sitting in a relaxed state as he flipped and spun his knife around once more. Looking at her, she had another outburst. In Jax's eyes she was quickly becoming the biggest liability.

In the field this spat wouldn't effect Jax, he had team mates that he didn't get along with before. Once on the field though mission took priority. Jax had learned to separate himself, Jax became Ghost. Her he wasn't so sure about, she seemed to controlled by emotion. He turned his head over to the screen once more as he pushed everything down. Right not it didn't really matter, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be watching her closely in the field to see how she act.s

With all of these volatile emotions flaring up, at least in 09 and 07, Seth thought that trying to reason these motions down would be the most effective way to move forward, since apparently this group isn't a one-time thing. "Oh-Nine. This isn't standard military op. It's closer to a black op, which is still military. That would mean discretion is key. If we don't succeed, we have nobody to turn to. It's just us, meaning team cohesion is also key. All of us are very different and we should be trusting of each other, and our mission director, as this won't be our last mission together, I presume." Seth read her dossier. He knew she had trust issues. Trying to reason trust from her seemed like the most efficient way to make her trust someone.
"He'll give us the information we need, then we carry out the mission. Nothing else needs to be done. A recording isn't necessary unless you're just forgetful. Even then, seven others will have heard the same knowledge and can repeat it to you if you do forget." Using a disguised insult would help at least take her focus off of the recording itself and, if it worked, she'd be angry at him for insulting her memory. Once finished, Seth maintained eye contact with 09, awaiting her response.

Saf nodded her head towards Sgt Garron, acknowledging his words if not heeding them. The non-com obviously had little in the way of actual battle command and his blatant attempts at psychological manipulation were as clear to her as they had been during her numerous psychological evaluations. He was trying to smooth the waters though, even if a little hamfistedly, and she appreciated his attempt.

Now if everyone would just get to the point and explain why it was she'd been cut open and tortured for days she could get the show on the road and actually put her suffering to good use.

Watching as the first arguments already began, Scott couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "If you don't mind, you'll all have plenty of time to get your irks and quirks out of your system en-route to our mission. But for now, I would like to remind you all that we're in the presence of Overwatch, and as such you should all be on your best behavior." He waited a moment in silence, making sure everyone understood him. Turning in place to face the monitor, he rubbed his chin briefly and said, "My apologies, sir. please continue."

"Thank you, Zero-Two. Now, I'm sorry to burst your bubbles, but this first assignment will not be on the field. This will be an exercise of sorts. It would be a grave mistake so send you out against the JFA without getting used to your new augmentations, equipment, and team-mates." Overwatch adjusted his glasses again and fixed his gaze on Cyprian. "Zero-Eight. Have you relocated the SDS's to designation Alpha Twenty-Three Foxtrot?"

"Affirmative, sir. Models Zero-Two and Zero-Eight are test confirmed, and the other six models are fully functional and ready for testing." Cyprian responded in a normal tone, a method of speech new to his allies.

"Very good. Zero-Two, lead your team to Alpha Twenty-Three Foxtrot, and have them suit up. Even though you and Zero-Eight are confirmed, I want you to partake in this assignment again."

Seth's attention was brought back to Oh-Two talking about this sort of banter being done en route. This shouldn't continue past this room. En route should be spent strategizing an briefing of any sort that 02 can do. If we bicker en route, we'll surely bicker on the battlefield. Well, this time it would be on a training field of some sort. At least there's some soundness in their strategy, having us tested with these SMS's before being sent into a real firefight. Alpha Twenty-Three Foxtrot... A23F. It might help to remember that. My memory might become faulty before the time of its relevance... Someone should be able to remember.
Once Overwatch had finished giving orders, Seth stood up and absent-mindedly saluted the figure on the screen, wobbling a bit as he stood up, still getting used to the bottoms of his feet not giving off any feeling, which forced Seth to calculate his balance by means other than his foot bottoms. Once he readjusted his balance, he turned to Oh-Two and made an 'after you' motion towards the door, ready to leave and finally have the mental challenge he'd been craving since arriving at the facility.

"Yes, sir" Scott said to the monitor with a short salute. With that, the monitor powered down and a click could be heard from the door as it unlocked electronically. "Alright everyone, enough waiting around. Follow me."

Leaving the room, there was a hallway spanning left-to-right. Once everyone was outside, Scott lead the group down the hall to the left. The facility they were currently located in was on Earth, and as such there was a certain high-class aesthetic about the building. Hardly any dust on the floors, the walls and ceiling free of marks or dents. After about three minutes of walking they stopped in front of a large gate. This was an elevator shaft, meant to be used by whole platoons and possibly even fit a small vehicle. As he called the elevator to the current floor, a low whirring sound came from below. It seemed like an eternity before the elevator finally reached the current floor. The gates opened, and Scott stepped onto the large platform which echoed a hollow metallic sound beneath his boots. "Everyone, please step onto the platform. We're heading down. Doc, you can take it from here."

Jax sat in his chair as he stopped playing with his knife and soon returned it to the sheath on his belt. He waited for every member of the team to stand up and move out of the room before he finally fallowed suit. He was used to bringing up the rear, so it felt most familiar to him even in simple situations like this. Keeping a few steps back he fallowed everyone along the hallway. He looked around as he did as well. The building was so, clean and proper. He honestly hadn't seen anything like it in a very long time. Most of the time operating out of a ship or station, going to places that were even less well maintained some times. That was the nature of the beast though. Everyone on earth had power and money, it makes since that every thing is well maintained. Soon enough though they arrived at the elevator shaft. He kept to hime self and observed the others, watching them as they waited.

After time seemed to pass by slower waiting on the elevator, but finally it arrived. Moving he leaned against the railings on the side of it. Even the rails on this fright elevator was sturdy. He'd been on some elevators that you doubted would make it the floor you wanted, and it was miracle when you did. Reaching up he pushed just underneath this left ear. The cybernetics in his eyes coming to life. Soon every one was highlighted and there names and saber numbers were shown. It even showed life signs. He assumed these were readings from there own IFFs. He decided to leave him active, as the elevator came to life and they were soon on there way to retrieve equipment.

Saf could feel Sgt Orion walking behind her and it made her spine itch even more than the jack ports which had been installed down her back. She didn't trust him, and even though knew that when they were out in the field he would be watching over her she needed some kind of assurance he wouldn't be saving a round for her.

Hanging back from the rest of the group slightly she took her chance as they waited for the elevator to turn on her new teammate with what she hoped was a friendly smile.

"We good?" She asked, her tone level and precise. She'd noticed he didn't like talking much, so she kept her question as brief as she could.