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DAY 69
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Repeated hard thuds were heard amongst the cacophony of shouting and screams as Richard tunnel visioned slowly into his training. The last two months had been frustrating, to say the least. There was very little combat to be had, and they weren’t given any missions. Gritting his teeth as his bound hands slammed repeatedly into the sandbag, the Englishman finally let out a single frustrated cry, punching with all his strength in his right hand. With a loud ripping noise, the leather bag of the sandbag burst open, spilling white sand over the floor. Breathing hard, Richard continued to stare at the sandbag for a few more seconds, before realising what he had done. Pulling his hand out of the hole he had made, in the process allowing even more sand to spill out, Richard stood up straight as gym attendants rushed over to inspect the damage. After being asked a few questions by the staff, as well as a rudimentary wrist check, Richard was allowed to leave without visiting the infirmary. Taking that as his cue to leave, Richard entered the change rooms and started to change back into his casual clothes.

Dressed in dark jeans and a light blue button up shirt, Richard exited the gym facilities. Almost immediately, he felt around his person for the familiar boxy package that would usually be in his pocket. Finding it in his rear jeans pocket, he pulled out a small box of cigarettes, producing a lighter moments after with a flick of his wrist. Lighting up one of the few remaining sticks of tobacco, Richard took a deep draw which eventually culminated into a smoke stained sigh. Starting back towards the dorms as the artificial sun began to dip towards the horizon, Richard blankly stared forwards as he drew his arms closer around his body. Like how Luna imitated the solar cycles of Terra, it also imitated the seasons. Autumn was drawing closer, and the days were progressively getting chillier, which made Richard wish that he had brought himself a jacket. Around him, people were chatting happily as they passed him, talking to teammates, acquaintances, even their partners. The Englishman scoffed. His team was nothing like them. Out of the three of them, he seemed to be the only one capable of speaking normally. One was a mouse who would run at the very mention of being seen, and the other was incapable of striking up a conversation. For all their skill in piloting violent machines of death, they weren’t exactly a bubbly bunch.

Deciding to stop for a little while, Richard took a detour towards the little park that they kept on campus. After a few metres of concrete, he came across a little oasis of greenery, flowers dotting the grass and occupying flowerbeds. Taking a seat on one of the ornate wooden benches, Richard stubbed out his cigarette and threw it into the waste disposal machine, which promptly liquefied it. Leaning back onto the back of the bench, he muttered to himself as he stretched, feeling the tension spread through his body before melting away. Too much had happened since he had come here. For one thing, Roman had stopped tailing him, which he found a welcome relief sometimes, but he also felt somewhat lonely now, which was uncharacteristic of him. He let out a slight chuckle as the thought spilled through his head. Well, it was about time he learned that Richard wasn’t his mother. Propping one leg onto his knee, the Englishman stared into the middle distance. Too much had happened since he had come here indeed… Once again, the botched mission came to mind, and he felt his teeth gritting hard. With a bang, he slammed his fist on the bench. What was done was done. He couldn’t change it. Still, their team had been reduced to a mere three members, and had effectively taken them out of combat situations, which irritated him even more.

After a few minutes of loitering, Richard lit up another cigarette and proceeded to leave the park, having brooded enough on negative thoughts for the day. Any more and he’d have a personal storm cloud following him all day. More students passed him, arguing, chatting, teasing. Its dynamic was completely different to his team. He sighed. He wished for once he’d get someone he would at least be able to converse with without making him feel like he was forcing them to. Taking a drag and pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, he let out yet another smoke-filled sigh. The worst part was today was a Sunday. He would have to spend the rest of the afternoon with his two other team members in probable silence. One would be reading a book and the other would be sitting quietly in the corner. It was times like this he wished that he could have brought his powerful computer on board the shuttle, but he did not think he would need it, and getting it delivered now would only bring bad omens. Resigning himself to his fate, Richard entered the dormitory complex and started towards the elevator. Somebody please save him from this mess…

Pressing his hand onto the gel scanner, Richard found that he was the first one there, or perhaps his fatigue addled mind prevented him from seeing anyone. Almost immediately, he made his way towards the fried, opening the bottom half and checking for any leftover food. There was plenty of reheating take away containers, but none of them looked particularly palatable. Pulling out a box of Venusian Karkal, he sniffed at the contents, before recoiling and throwing it into the trash. It smelled bad at the worst of times, but that one smelled like it had been stewing in the sweat of morbidly obese people for the last three days. Karkal never did keep well. His appetite thoroughly crushed, Richard stepped away from the fridge and collapsed onto the couch, closing his eyes. And to think he had another two and a half years here…would he survive that long?

A pair of eyes constantly darted from left to right, rereading the last lines of a section of notes that formed the most recent summary of a performance report - having been written and being read by Thessalia Minari and detailing precisely how her A.W.E., the MKS-19C Hagelsturm, had handled itself in the numerous exercises since the last report. Not that any modifications had been made in the meantime - but she still kept the record, both for the sake of keeping track of her own performance as well as compiling the notes in order to potentially make a list of areas that could be improved upon in the A.W.E.'s design itself. The notes, however, read fairly similarly for a number of weeks - little to no change in the performance, only minor occurences of technical difficulties at best and, most of all, a complete lack of feedback as to the handling of team-based situations.

Ever since the splitting of the team - first Miromi, then Douglas and Karl - Colonel Landsfeldt had seemingly given up on the notion of Squad One actually being able to work together cohesively; instead assigning each of its three remaining members training sessions designed to keep up or improve upon their skills with A.W.E. armaments - but not one mission which was to be completed as a team. Instead, that was done at a purely theoretical level - via the means of reading up on battles that had been won or lost due to heavy emphasis on squad level tactics and, in turn, coming up with ways to handle such situations with the given assets. Yet despite the fact that, much more often than not, Thessalia's approaches would have had a good probablity of success, it still did not sit well with her - as the situation the squad was in told tales about what their superiors thought of their skills as a whole.

At the same time, however, the questions had begun to take on an increasingly similar group of available assets - the reason thereof quickly being deciphered: Rather than, like before, simply sticking a team together and hoping for the best, the Colonel was trying to find an actual match - though it was a rather lengthy process, it seemed, seeing as weeks had passed since this realisation had struck the three current Squad One members. For now, no matter how the situation might be to their dislike, they had little other option than to follow the training exercises they were given and to wait. With that, Thessalia saved her notes on her PDA before the holoscreen faded away; the Swiss rising back to her feet - and then turning toward the A.W.E. garage's exit; having been seated before Hagelsturm for the duration of the writing; its presence facilitating the note-taking when the object thereof was in the immediate vicinity. A small nod of acknowledgement was all she gave to the guard as she passed unhindered to the outside and then headed back toward the dorms - whilst sparing a glance backward; a growing habit ever since one of her squadmates had begun not following in the shadow the other exclusively.

Jack Roman and Richard Williams - the two other members of Squad One. The former piloted Nephesh, a stealth A.W.E. capable of undetected sabotage and infiltration of Spirit design - that is, Jack did. Roman meanwhile, the distinct other half of the same person and heir to the very same corporation that manufactured the A.W.E. he piloted, had yet to give any sign of real change; still withdrawing from any situation that featured just about any form of personal interaction - the only positive, if any, was that he had, for now at least, abandoned his plan of writing home to get himself away from Lunar Academy. The latter meanwhile, piloted one of the Ghoul A.W.E.'s - DEMON and FIEND - both of which were designed with assassination, fear tactics and general disruption in mind. Yet despite the time that they had been part of the same squad, they still seemed to have little to relate over; any conversation that did come up often ending sooner rather than later and rarely not pertaining to A.W.E.'s, Lunar Academy itself or their now common link, Jack and Roman.

Shaking those thoughts off, Thessalia approached Squad One's dorm room in the first year's building that she had arrived in; the door opening as she was identified as one of its occupants upon placing her hand on the scanner. Stepping through, she eyed the familiar common room - and quickly spotted at least one other occupant in Richard's slouched form on the couch; a place he was not all too rarely found. Giving a brief nod in greeting - despite the recipient thereof having his eyes closed - she headed for one of the empty seats before falling into her usual routine in the form of her PDA's holoscreen displaying the page of the book she was currently reading that she had previously left off at.

The neon glow of the numbers hovering in front of him reflected in Roman's sunglasses as he stared at the puzzle that was being projected from the holopad. The slight artificial breeze flung bits of dirt and dead leaves through the light projection, causing it to waver slightly. Roman glanced away from his sudoku puzzle to glare at the ground. It was the middle of fall now. Or, more accurately, the middle of the illusion of fall, as set by Luna's environmental parameters. Over the past few weeks, the temperature began to drop, and the leaves slowly started falling off the trees to blanket the ground with a layer of brown, red, and yellow. It had made Roman's new favorite spot much less comfortable, at least physically. The small bench, located in a less-used detour path through the park of Lunar Acadamy had become Roman's hiding place of choice over the past two months. Ever since the failure of Squad One's sic-man siege mission, and the resulting splitting up of the team, Roman had been looking for a place to conceal himself from everyone for long periods of time. However, to avoid anyone he knew who could be looking for him, Roman had elected to go to the last place they would think to look. Hiding in a closet certainly shielded you from the eyes of the people, but Roman knew better. A thousand eyes upon you could be just as good as none, so long as the context was correct. No one payed any attention to a person sitting on a public bench. Roman might as well have been as invisible as the Nephesh here.

The idea from the location stemmed from important, albeit extremely awkward conversation with Thessalia Minari a day prior to the catastrophic failure of a mission. Despite several people passing them by as they talked, not a single person cared to look at the two people, male and female even, sitting on the bench in silence. It would have showed the clear signs of a couple fight to those who would be deemed 'normal' people, but not even a casual glance has been sent their way. The spot was perfect. Well, except for the stupid weather. It has been near the end of summer at the time. The inclusion of the season in an artificial atmosphere was an important one, of course. Not for the environment, however. The seasons were in place for the people's sake. The economy to be specific. Lunar Acadamy was only a tiny section of the moon of Luna. An enormous colony of people lived in the huge complex, as the rock was a strategic logistics point for travel. The shift in weather allowed for more variety in business to crop up everywhere, as well as expand the need of essential items for sale. After all, if coats weren't necessary, no one would buy them. Roman wished he had a coat.

A small bout of shivering took over Roman's body, although for once it wasn't from anxiety. Trying to ignore the chilly wind, Roman once again banished the thought of traveling to a store. The thought of the shopkeeper was an unpleasant one. Calling home for one wouldn't work either. His parents wouldn't waste thousands of dollars in fuel and shipping costs just to send him a jacket. Plus, they would tell him to go to the aforementioned store and get one. The next time he needed parts for A.W.E. maintenance, he would have to remember to ask. Sighing, Roman returned his focus towards his puzzle. There were only eight squares still open. Lifting a finger, Roman was about to fill a square, when a beep made him jump. A small envelope symbol appeared in the corner of the projected screen. Roman frowned at it. Only one person ever sent him emails. Sighing again, Roman taped a finger to the envelope. The puzzle vanished, to be replaced with a short message:

To all of Squad One:

If you aren't dead or dying, get your ass in your dorm to meet me at 16:00 sharp.

-Col. Landsfeldt

Roman's blood pressure began to spike. The dorm? The Colonel never came to the dorm. Well, not true. The last time he stopped by, Douglas and Karl were taken away. Roman doubted that another person would be removed. This meant what he, Thessalia, and his third squad mate and childhood companion, Richard Williams, had speculated was true. The three of them had been sure that the Colonel had just been stalling for time to find another couple of members for Squad One. All missions had stopped to be replaced with individual training plans, save the occasional group free practice. This was not something Roman wanted to deal with today, and certainly not this suddenly. Glancing at his watch, Roman saw that it was just past 3:30pm. Standing up on shaky legs, Roman used all of his willpower to force them to stop. Berating himself, he felt ashamed as his sudden reversion to his old self. He had been practicing this. He had two bodyguards now. No one would be able to hurt him. No one wanted to hurt him anyway. He needed to remain calm. It was the same mantra that Paxton had been jamming into him for many years, and despite a temporary lapse during the first few weeks, the time alone and the conversation with Thessalia allowed it to make a comeback. He needed to remain calm. He needed to remember that the world was not out to get him. He needed to not forget that again. But of course he would.



At the clock struck 3:58pm., Roman pressed a hand to the door to Squad One's dorm room. The familiar hiss of the door opening did nothing to help Roman's spirits. Slowly, he walked into the room, the hiss again emerging as the door closed behind him. Roman resisted the urge bolt towards the bedroom. He needed to remain calm. The walk back to the dorm had helped strengthen his resolve, but nonetheless, this was about to be the most intensive interaction he had to endure for a long while. He could handle it... With help. Glancing around the room, Roman saw that said help was already here: Richard half-asleep on the couch, and Thessalia sitting at the kitchen table.After noting their positions, Roman locked his eyes on his favorite chair in the corner and made a beeline towards it and sitting down on the edge. His watch now read 3:59pm. Any secon-

"Alright cadets, line up!"

The voice of the Colonel came through the hissing door, causing Roman to jerk to his feet like he had been poked with a cattle prod. Half-scrambling, he began moving to the middle of the room, whee the rest of his squad was also heading. Once there, he took up his position to the right of Richard, with Thessalia to Richard's left. Staring at the opening, his right hand at his forehead to show attention, Roman used all his resolve to stand up straight and keep himself from shaking at the man in his full metal-decorated military jacket stood at his full height in front of the three students. Despite his zombie-like appearance of pale skin, hallowed cheeks, and completely white hair, the man's mind and body were still in perfectly capable shape, if his piercing blue eyes and the mechanical clicks from his many robotic augmentations were indication.

"At ease," barked the Colonel, waiting for the hands to drop before continuing, "I'd say I trust you enjoyed your time without missions, but I can already read the answers on your faces. The answers will be mixed." The Colonel's eyes lingered on Roman as he said this. Roman bit the inside of his cheek to keep his expression neutral. "But, not to worry. Tomorrow at 09:00, you will be going on your first mission... with your new teammates." The pause at the end was accompanied by a small smile, as the old man took note of the complete lack of surprise on the three faces. "But, of course you knew this would happen right after Karesh and Shanks were taken away, didn't you? Well, congratulations, you were right. It took a while, but after my mistakes, I didn't want to take any chances. They're fresh off the bus, but they should mesh well with you three."

Turning back towards the door and opening it with the accompanying hiss, the Colonel once again stepped outside the dorm. "I'm giving you five time to get to know each other before tomorrow. Don't screw this up again," the Colonel said, his eyes narrowing at the end, before turning his attention towards the hall, where Roman realized he could hear noise. "Get in, and play nice," the Colonel said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the open door, before turning away and walking off down the hall. His footsteps along with the hum of his machinery echoed throughout it as Roman finally unclenched his jaw. His cheek was really starting to hurt. However, there was the chance it would bleed by the end of the night.

The last few days had been a waking dream for Wolf – surreal even. He had never even considered the possibility that he might actually be going to Lunar Academy, and now he was being placed in one of the most elite teams on the entire campus – or so he was told. He had figured the surgery would leave him as a scientific experiment, albeit one with many benefits, but nothing more. His fingers unconsciously felt at the back of his neck, feeling for the familiar cold metal jack and its rubber cap.

That metal jack had been the spark for many social interactions – some good, some less than so. Overall, most considered it something to be proud of, a grand leap forward in the science world. He still did get the odd look now and then, from those who took the time to notice it. He fondly remembered his (ex) girlfriend complaining that a giant sparkplug ruined the moment every time she tried to wrap her arms around his neck.

He mentally shook himself, bringing his attention back to the world around him. He was immediately aware yet again of how uncomfortable the school’s uniform was – it was far too tight and well-fitting for his tastes. He began to absentmindedly pick at the black folds as the Colonel talked into the open door, and he shifted uncomfortably. Luckily, the heavily one-sided conversation was mercifully short, and the Colonel beckoned him and the girl next to him, Sasha, into the dorm room.

As the whir of mechanical parts – probably NeuroLeg, although he’d need a closer look – receded down the hallway, Wolf set his jaw and calmed his nerves as best as he could. He didn’t know any of these people – even Sasha was no more acquainted to him than through idle chitchat. Even so, he strode confidently into the room alongside the other newbie, and immediately began sizing up all four of the others. The “elite team” didn’t look like much, even with the addition of two new members. In fact, if push came to shove, he could probably take any of them in a fight - not that he’d necessarily want to.

The boy on the left looked timid at best, annoyed at worst, and altogether cranky. Probably just as uncomfortable as Wolf, if not for different reasons. He quickly paired a face with the picture file he had received earlier, and identified Jack Roman. The bookish girl next to him would be Thessalia, then. That left the guy with the obnoxious shades as Richard. Dude, leave the shades for the outdoors… Come to think of it, none of the three standing in front of him looked like they particularly wanted to be there. Well, aren’t they just overflowing with excitement….

With first impressions out of the way, he figured it was time to actually introduce himself. As far as he knew, the others may have no idea who he was. “I suppose I should probably introduce myself. Wolfgang Feuer – or just Wolf. In fact, please call me Wolf.” He put on a smile, as a hint of pride crept into his voice. “I pilot the Helios – fastest A.W.E. you’ll ever have the pleasure of seeing – if you can catch me.” His eyes sparkled with arrogant amusement as he touted his abilities, before he returned to a slightly more serious tone. “Now, I’d love to say more, but I want to get out of this damn uniform. I’ll be much better company once I’m comfortable.”

His curt introduction finished, he took a step back to allow Sasha her own introduction. Once she was finished, the tension in the room began to fade, and he immediately turned to grab his bags out of the hallway. Conversation would be met with a request to let him get settled first. He discreetly fed a wire up the back of his shirt and into the jack, hooking himself into the PDA in his pocket. Beaming a floor plan of the dorm into his brain, he figured out which bunk was his and moved his luggage in, not bothering to unpack more than a change of clothes, which promptly found their way onto his body. Comfortable at last in a red hoodie and jeans, he moved into the main room, flopped down into the nearest seat, and made himself at home.

As she stood and listened to the Colonel speak to the others, Sasha stood at idle attention beside the German boy and waited for the storm to pass. Landsfeldt cut an imposing figure with or without his cybernetics, but Sasha knew a good soldier when she saw one. You didn't get to be a man like him without having earned it, and if only for that and the fact that he recognized that she was worth putting into his 'elite team' she gave him the respect he deserved. In contrast to the fidgety Feuer she stood still and patient, her hands crossed below her slight bosom and her eyes watching the Colonel's back as he spoke to her soon-to-be squadmates. He liked them, that much was clear—enough to put up with their eccentricities and their failings, which was impressive enough from a man like him. Enough to call them his 'elite team', and enough to try and breath new life into them.

So be it, as it were. As she followed Feuer into the room, she took the added time to size them up a bit.

It hadn't taken her long to get an impression of the caged animal they called a boy that stood with her in the hallway. He barely knew what to do with himself in uniform, that much was clear—it took all the discipline he had just to stand still, and even then he did it poorly. A hotheaded hotshot of a pilot, but one that could back up his bravado according to what little she'd gleaned about him from what passed for his report, and that wasn't nothing. In Sasha's mind there was nothing wrong with commenting on your own excellence as long as it could be proven, and he seemed so eager to get the chance to prove himself that he was practically jumping out of the black uniform they'd stuffed him in. As he trundled off to get himself changed, she wondered idly if he would have what it would take to 'play nice', orders or no.

The other three, the squad proper, seemed...put out. Perhaps she would too, in their situation. None of them got here by being slackers, and failure was a hard lesson to learn. It seemed to have hit the girl of them hardest. Secretly Sasha was glad for another female in the mix, if only to have someone else to cut the machismo that in her experiences male pilots tended to exude in droves. She caught whiffs of it from Richard, the boy with the glasses, and also from Roman though she could hardly tell why. They all of them looked bored, if not complacent, and as Feuer stalked off to change she found herself making her way to one of the arm chairs.

“What a lively bunch you are.” She offered with a wiggle of her fingers by way of greeting, sinking into the chair with a slight sigh and rolling her shoulders to relax. Tense by training and nature if nothing else, she looked to them idly and smiled past a small scar that tugged at her lip on the left. “Sasha, a pleasure. I'll be providing fire support from the Ulanova. Is he always so brusque?” She added with a gesture of a thumb to the sliding door, indicating the now-absent Colonel. Flicking the buttons at the front of her uniform, she opened it up on one side to reveal a white tank-top and unselfconsciously brought an ankle to the top of her knee, ignoring the skirt of her uniform. Ridiculous, that they had women wear skirts in a military academy, but from what she'd heard this was as much prep-school as anything else.

As foul as his awakening temper usually was, the thought of the consequences if he did not obey the Colonel slapped all sense of rebellion out of his mind and snapped his senses into military overdrive. His voice seemed like an instant call for obedience as Richard stood onto his feet and made a snappy salute, his back ramrod straight, head held high and a tight-lipped expression on his face. Despite his dishevelled look and plain clothing, the Englishman looked every bit a military soldier. The other two members of the team took up positions either side of him and they held similar stances, obeying every last utterance the Colonel spoke. Despite looking like something that had shambled out of a grave and then crawled through a factory, the Colonel still managed to strike awe and fear into Richard in equal amounts.

Dropping his hand at the appropriate time, Richard took a shoulder-wide stance with his feet and stared directly at the colonel’s forehead, not daring to look into those piercing blood eyes, lest his blood curdle in his veins. The ensuing message however, was received with mixed reactions. On one hand, he was happy, ecstatic even, that he would be going back into action. After all these months of waiting around and doing nothing, he would finally have a chance to feel the blood rush of combat…well, in a simulation anyways. It was as close as he could get, and it didn’t really matter anymore once he got into the thick of it. On the other hand, however…he mentioned new team mates. With the people they had been getting so far, he was more than just doubtful of both their competence and their mental state. A slight twitch of the lip went unnoticed by the Colonel, although out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the colonel smirk when he looked at him. The mention that they were fresh out of the bus didn’t help either.

As soon as the Colonel left however Richard eased up, sighing as he rolled his shoulders. Well…he wondered what these new guys would be like…hopefully nothing like the previous members, greenie, melodramatic or arrogant. The first one that came up caused Richard to narrow his eyes beneath his glasses, clearly visible as they switched back to a clear sheen. Seven seconds into his introduction and he already hated him. Arrogance did not place well with him, even if he did do it sometimes. He was aware that he was being a bit of a hypocrite, but his first impression was one of someone who would rush headlong into combat to die. “Fastest A.W.E, first one to die,” he muttered quietly under his breath as he unconsciously clenched his fist. If they were to spar…he would do more than just catch him… The girl at least seemed better, or rather, more bearable.

“Richard Williams, pilot of FIEND and DEMON,” he replied curtly as he unfolded his arms, bending his back slightly in a formal bow, “a pleasure to make your acquaintances.” The mere names of those two models should tell the two newcomers what company he was a patron of. And from there, he could gauge their reactions. Most people were abhorrent of Ghoul as a company, which he could understand, but he respected those who saw that there was a need for fear tactics. “I will be providing as much of a front line as I can to keep you out of harm’s way.” Looking over to Roman, he drew him closer by grabbing his arm. “And this is Roman, our infiltrator and spy. He’ll be going deep into enemy lines to sabotage them as best he can,” he said as he slapped him gently on the back. Leaving Thessalia to do her own introduction, Richard gently took a seat, but his eyes never left Sasha’s, as if initiating a staring contest. The eye contact was broken a few seconds later as the German newcomer threw himself down into the chair beside Richard, now dressed more casually. It was Sunday after all, so all classes were cancelled.

He wouldn’t really gauge them yet until they were in combat together, but for now…he would give them the benefit of the doubt. “So…how much experience do you two have?” he asked curiously.

A faint but familiar hiss denoted the opening of the dorm room door - causing Thessalia's eyes to dart from the page over to the displayed time and then to the open door itself; the time having told her that it could not be the Colonel who had announced his soon-to-be arrival earlier for precisely 1600 hours. The fact that it was still two minutes until then meant that it had to be someone else - which narrowed the list of possibilities down to the third member of Squad One, Roman. Thessalia's thought process turned out to be correct - the American stood just past the doorway for a moment, scanning his surroundings whilst receiving a simple nod from her before he headed straight for the most tucked-away chair in the room. Turning to face her book once again, the Swiss noted the time again - a mere minute remaining until the Colonel's arrival which would undoubtedly be on time down to the second - and let the holodisplay fade away; just moments before the same hiss was heard once again.

"Alright cadets, line up!" came the immediate order from Colonel Landsfeldt; not even having waited for the door to fully open and just barely avoiding to clip it on the way inside. His words got an immediate reaction from all three of the room's occupants - within scant seconds, Richard, Roman and Thessalia all were lined up and standing at attention. A careful observer would be quick to note that all three had a slight difference in their stances - Richard was shaking off the after-effects of his interrupted nap whilst maintaining his form; Roman was fighting the urge to just bolt and run like mad; Thessalia meanwhile keeping her gaze fixed on the Colonel - though it took a surprising amount of willpower to suppress an involuntary shiver when the experienced soldier's piercing eyes met hers, even when there was no reason to fear. He was hardly the kind of superior that one simply got used to.

The words "At ease" could hardly stand in a starker contrast to the voice in which they were spoken, a sharp bark accompanying them that caused all three squad members to tense up for a moment before they took up a more relaxed stance. As the Colonel then spoke, it was as if he was reading their thoughts right out of the three's heads - even as he announced that from tomorrow onward, the missions would commence again; the words following these confirming the previously held suspicions - Squad One was getting reinforcements. The three current members all held differing opinions of this news, though no surprise - in Thessalia's case, her thoughts were separated between questions of how the squad composition would look like and faint worry of whether the same friction between the individual members as last time would appear.

Those thoughts, meanwhile, came to a halt when the Colonel turned back around to address the waiting members in the hallway, telling them to get inside whilst already heading out himself. A faint relief came over all of them when he left - such was the tension that Colonel Landsfeldt mere presence evoked. The attention, in turn, fell upon the two that stepped through the open door - Wolfgang Feuer and Sasha, as they would introduced themselves. Of the two, the German - both his name and the way he pronounced it making it obvious to a native speaker of the language - made a more noticeable appearance - he stepped up, looked around and then began to speak; wasting little time in making himself known. Sasha, meanwhile, was more subdued - measured steps and, particularly compared to the previous introductee, calm, she seemed more the planning, fore-thinking kind compared to the quick-footed Wolf, as he preferred to be called; the presumable Russian, judging from voice and name once again, received a simple nod for an answer to her question regarding the Colonel.

Of the two, it would appear that Wolfgang's attitude fell on more dissatisfaction, judging by the small drop of the corners of Richard's lips that Thessalia noticed out of the corner of her eyes - Roman meanwhile no doubt already trying to edge his way out of the newcomers' attention on the other side of the Englishman. The A.W.E.'s that they piloted, meanwhile, immediately set Thessalia's mind into gear - Helios, high speed attacks, and Ulanova, long range fire support. Combined with the already present three units, that would be enough to allow a number of squad-level mission types somewhat effectively - the question was whether the pilots would work just as well together; a worrying prospect considering the unintelligible mutter coming from her immediate right.

Richard was the first of the three to introduce himself - and took over Roman's part, too. The Englishman held on to his arm, no doubt having noticed the American slowly inching away. Thessalia sent a quick glance their way - caught in the immediate spotlight thanks to Richard, Roman stood stiff; the faintest traces of shivering starting to make themselves noticeable. If it went on any longer, he would most likely break into a full sprint through the door and as far away as in any way possible. Knowing this, Thessalia spoke up right afterwards: "Thessalia Minari, Squad Sergeant and pilot of Wirbelwind's MKS-19C Hagelsturm. I'll be providing cover and covering fire," she said, her eyes shifting from Richard and Roman over to Wolf and Sasha; her voice retaining its usual quiet calm manner and lack of audible accent in any way.

Fortunately, the immediate attention moved from the introductions to matters of comfort as Wolf headed to get changed into more comfortable clothes whilst Sasha headed for the nearest chair; Richard seating himself down on his usual spot on the setee where he would soon after be joined by the returning Wolf. Giving a telling look to Roman - who was no doubt already figuring out the fastest way to extricate himself from this situation in which he was faced with strangers that had at least a passing interest in him - Thessalia took a seat beside Sasha; in turn leaving three open places - beside Richard, beside herself or outside the small circle altogether. A brief glance was all the gave to discourage the choosing of the latter - whilst it was no doubt the easiest way for now, Roman had to know that it was no long-term choice.

At Richard's words, Thessalia turned her briefly distracted attention back to the others - both interested in the answer to the Englishman's question as well as taking note of the fact that Wolf indeed seemed more relaxed than in uniform whilst Sasha too did not take long to make herself more comfortable. For the moment, at least, things were getting along well.

Eyes transfixed on the open door in front of him, Roman waited with bated breath for the two people shuffling about outside to finally make their way into the room. How he would react when they did, however, was still a mystery to him. The instinctive half of him brain as pushing his natural impulse was to get as far away from the current proceedings as possible — the newcomers really only needed to talk to Jack anyway, since he was the one that would be fighting with them. The other, logical half, was forcing Roman to stay exactly where he was. He had been expecting this for a while now. It wasn't as if he had been rehearsing the situation in his mind all this time for a month now. He had allies to back him up. He needn't run and hide. He could get through th-

The color of Roman's face began to drain when he finally got sight of the two people who had entered the room. Eyes scanning the pair with his usual analyzing gaze, Roman's mind kicked into overdrive as it tried to file a profile for the pair from what little information could be observed and categorized. The first of the two was a male — thin but incredibly toned, relatively handsome, walked with a gait that oozed of confidence, testosterone, and impulsiveness. Other, smaller, less important details such as size, eye and hair color, along with a few other miscellaneous things were taken in as well, but Roman was much more focused on the man's attitude. His slight changes in facial expression gave a clear sign of disappointment along with disbelief. While he seemed to simply except the presence of both himself and Thessalia, the corners of the man's mouth dipped slightly when he saw Richard. Roman didn't even need to look at Richard to know that the exact same expression was being returned by the Englishman. There was an incredibly brief moment of bad air, as the two stared each other down, but the moment passed as quickly as it had came, as the man began to speak. His words confirmed Roman's current impression of him. The man, Wolfgang Feuer as he called himself, reminded Roman sharply of Karl Shanks, the previous front-line fighter that Wolfgang was going to replace. There were a few key differences though. The biggest and most dangerous one was Wolfgang's lack of naivety. That was what had made Karl easy to deal with; that trait had sparked a tiny bit of timidity in the American built upon the respect for more knowledgeable teammates. This man would have none of that. He would be trouble.

Following Wolfgang's words, the German man made a beeline straight for the boy's bedroom to get into a more comfortable change of clothes. Roman's eyes followed him there as far as they could go without having to turn his head. Once he was out of sight, they returned forward and fixed themselves on the female of the pair. Roman's heart sank a bit as he began to analyze her as well. Relaxed yet still focused, she gave off the distinct impression that she did not have a whole lot of interest in the current proceedings. Aside from a slightly longer glance at Thessalia, which Roman took to be a sign that she was, if not happy, then interested in the only other female in the room, the woman took in her surroundings with an air of simple acceptance before she too began moving, and made her way to the nearest and larger of the two couches, seating herself on the one of the ends. As she did, she gave a small wave and her own greeting and introduction — an action that made and leftover color in Roman's face after Wolfgang's introduction fade completely. The accent of her voice, along with the name of her A.W.E. told him she was Russian. A brief outline of the previous Russian to be on the team, Scarlett Sakarova, imprinted itself on the new woman. Like Wolfgang to Karl, Sasha seemed to be a parallel to Scarlet, though subtracting a few qualities and adding more beneficial ones. In this case, she lacked Scarlett's explosive interest, as well as her slight impulsiveness. However, unlike Wolfgang, this could prove to make her easier to deal with. So long as she didn't take an interest in him. For now, Roman figures he would be safe from that. That would change quickly.

With the door to the boy's room opening and Wolfgang reemerging in a more casual outfit, Richard finally spoke up. He left the Russian's question unanswered, although that in itself gave it one, and instead chose to introduce himself. Listing his name and machine, he also decided to throw in his company name. Roman had the distinct impression that was more for Wolfgang's sake, as throwing his clout into the mix was not something Richard usually did. However, it could also have been because he too noticed the complete lack of enthusiasm of the two newcomers and this was just a way to impress. Either way, Roman felt the urge to roll his eyes, but he resisted. He needed them to remain focused as he tried to decide upon what to do. Now was the phase of name giving, and he was going to have to do it. The question was how to do so as minutely as possible, as to shave off any possible interest in paying any further attention to himself. Then he would be able to return to his chair in the corner while the others talked. It was his turn to make dinner tonight anyway and it was nearing that time, so perhaps he could just slip into the kitchen? Slowly, Roman began to inch himself away from the common room as this idea seemed to be like the more sensible course of action.

Roman suddenly felt his arm being grabbed. Freezing in place, eye's opening wide, Roman looked to see what had gotten a hold of him. Richard's voice told him it was him, and he seemed to take it upon himself to give Roman's introduction for him. Following this, he let Roman go, and slapped him on the back, each impact made Roman flinch. The unwanted shivering had begun to start. While Roman knew that Richard was just trying to help, he did so in the worst way possible. Giving the introduction for him would raise interest in the newcomers, as they wondered why he didn't give it himself. Especially since he didn't continue on to introduce Thessalia right afterwards. Plus, with all eyes upon him, they would have noticed both the flinching and the trembling, leading to even more questions. Roman's panic grew as he tried to decide upon what to do. A quick glance to the nearest door, being that one of the bathroom, imbued Roman the with powerful fight or flight instinct. His logical mind was telling him that running away would only make things worse, but the other half was telling him to hide, and hide fast. There was a second glance towards the door. And a third. Before the shift to run in that direction to could begin, Thessalia's voice could be heard, cutting across what was, despite Roman's increased thought process was leading him to believe, only an incredibly short pause. With that, the instinctive side lowered it's defenses for only a moment, but it was enough for the logical side to give a killing blow. She was trying to help him. He had allies. He needed to remember that.

Her help did come with a cost, however. The Swiss woman took a seat next to the Russian, and gave Roman a look that made in clear what she intended. She expected him to stay, and she expected him to stay close. That meant no kitchen, and no armchair in the corner. This was not the first time she had done something like this. It was a clear sign that she was taking up her end of the bargain, and doing Jack's bidding. Roman bit the inside of his cheek again. Well, there was no real choice now. Not making a sound, Roman slowly moved to take a seat next to Thessalia on the three cushion couch. He left a large gap between them, as he did his best to take up as little space as possible, but at least she would be happy. He would agree to her terms for now, but he would take his leave soon. Dinner needed to be made, after all. Richard's question put a temporary end to Roman's current thoughts. He asked the pair what they brought to the table in terms of battle. It was an important question, of Roman was being fair, but not one that he really needed to hear the answer to. That was something for Jack to care about. He would be listening intently now.

Wolf listened through the door for the other team members' introductions, keeping one eye on the crack so he could match a voice with a name. Feeling far more comfortable in a hoodie and jeans, he plopped himself down in a chair, letting all the day's tention out as he leaned back into the plush. He scanned the room as the rest of the team sat down one by one, with the exception of Sasha, who was the first to sit.

"So, Richard, Roman, and Thessalia." He looked at each if them as he committed their faces to memory - a slow process for him, but necessary for obvious reasons. Something Richard had said caught his attention. "FIEND and DEMON, huh?". The fact that Richard had taken care to mention both Ghoul models told him the leader was trying to place the fear of God in him. Not that Wolf really cared. A competitive spark lit up in his eye. "My Helios is made by some of the same people, ya know. We'll have to race sometime. AFTER the mission tomorrow." The last part was said for the benefit of the rest of the team - more likely than not, the two high-speed A.W.E.'s would end up racing each other anyway. But they didn't need to know that.

Realizing Richard had asked about his experience, he answered that next. "I've been piloting for a long while now - can't remember what age I started. I started with the fastest frame I could find and went up from there. My own Helios was built for me by my Uncle's company, with a little help from Ghoul." A thought occured to him. "Speaking of which, I should probably show you guys something, seeing as how you'll be my team and all. Here-"

He unslumped himself and twisted around in the seat, lowering his hood as he did so. He tapped on the rubber cap over the wire leading to his PDA, making sure the entire team had a good view of the electronic port before he returned to his orginal position. "That's an electronic input connected to a chip in my brain. First of it's kind." Pride was evident in his voice. "It allows me to hook directly into my frame, completely bypassing the HUD and giving me the information directly. When I say I'm the fastest, this is why." With that, he braced himself for the inevitably varied reactions.

Watching the English boy try to stare her down, she smirked slightly--down, tiger--as he broke the contact and relaxed back into her seat. If Richard seemed like the golden boy until he broke out his grisly contractor, Roman seemed more than a little skittish. What place could there be in war for a boy who could barely stand on his own with his comrades? Perhaps infiltration really was best for him, he certainly looked as though he wished to disappear now. There had to be something there, though--you didn't kill someone or something that didn't know you were there without having a bit of steel in you.

Though they were grounded for a reason.

Watching them all, it was interesting to see how the others bullied their American comrade. She wondered idly how deep his skittish streak ran, whether or not they were trying to cure it or what on earth could have got him here. Admittedly in the reports there was an indication of a behavioral change, but still... there was a lot of ground that needed covering. The boys of course, took the first opportunity to lay down their lines in the sand, but that was only to be expected. No matter what anyone said, men were children in the end--toy soldiers, scared little boys, proud little bullies, white knights... she hadn't met one yet she couldn't figure out. It was women that bothered her, hid things, kept secrets, worked in layers, and so it was Thessalia that she found herself keeping an eye on. For all Richard's name-dropping and Feuer's bluster, it was she that seemed to have the real command in their little--

What the devil was that on the German's neck?!

"Neural integration system..." she hummed, eyeing it with a raised eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. Now that was interesting--like what they'd done with her Ulanova, if a bit more direct. She wondered if it would be harder to do with her own sensory integration and mapping, working in so many more levels in such radically different methods of perception, but shrugged the thought off. "Interesting. Let's hope there's something more than speed to it, or you'll get to the fight without anything to fire!"

Chuckling, she leaned back in the chair like a cat, stretching her legs out and letting her head fall back, long platinum hair falling over the back of the couch as her arms stretched in front of her. "Just don't expect me to keep up, the Ulanova's a bull of a machine. I had thought when I first started piloting that they would have put me in something light, maneuverable, but not so. No one else seemed to have the coordination to make the damn thing move like it needed to. It was not so long ago as you--my family was not exactly as corporate as the rest of yours, if your files are any indication--but I can make the old girl dance when I have to."

“Unless your company has been acquired by SPIRIT, I highly doubt that it has been made by the same people,” Richard replied to Wolf leisurely as he sat back into his seat, arms folded across his chest. Somewhere in his body, a spark lit up a flame of competition. He may not be the fastest, but he will do more damage, psychologically and physically, no matter how fast the bastard was. The next thing to happen took Richard back a little, but had little more effect than causing the Englishman to widen his eyes a little before scratching his chin. He knew that SPIRIT, along with the Japanese Nihonmaru company was looking into the new technology, and GHOUL was already looking for a way to use it to their advantage, after all, it was a direct delivery system to the brain, and they could hardly pass this up, even with the Terran Commission scoping them out for overt cruelty. Both integration and direct neural hacking were on the table. “Interesting toy,” Richard said as he stared levelly at the rubber cap, “let’s see if it actually helps on the battlefield.”

The Russian girl was next, detailing that her suit was more of a slow, heavy creature, which surprised Richard who was used to seeing girls in more…manoeuvrable machines, despite how sexist that may sound. In fact, Thessalia and this one were the only ones to break the mould so far. “That’s good to know,” Richard said, a small smirk tweaking the corner of his mouth, “always nice to have people who know how to work their machines.” It came out a little teasingly, but after seeing Karl in action, he meant it seriously. An awkward silence passed as they all sat in silence, and Richard was aware of Jack tapping his foot nervously. “Let’s get off the topic of combat for a second,” Richard said, if only to break the ocean of silence that had settled over them. “What do you people like to do…outside of military restrictions? I myself am a martial artist, as well as a passable chef. I am aware Thessalia enjoys literature, but I never really asked this before, and I actually am quite interested, after all, if we are to be teammates, we’d better actually learn what we all like….” He neglected to add the ‘Unlike last time’, but Thessalia and Jack knew what he meant.

The looks of shock and surprise, fleeting in some, slightly more pronounced in others, were only to be expected as Wolf revealed the “big secret”. Not so big, really – Richard, piloting a SPIRIT-manufactured A.W.E., probably suspected the existence of neural integration already. After all, it was the former SPIRIT engineers who had made the biggest advances towards the actual bridge between frame and pilot. His suspicions were more or less confirmed by Richard’s reaction, or lack thereof, although that could have just as easily been his personality. He certainly seemed the type.

Wolf let slip a look of indignation, as several of the team members voiced their doubts. “Oh, it will help, all right.” The fire of barely contained energy sparked in his eyes as he remembered a few of his favorite moments from his practice sessions. Most of them involved firing all four of his weapons at once, to substantial effect. His indignation turned to understanding, however, as he realized they would never have seen someone fire so many weapons independently. “Ohhhh…I’d betcha none of you have ever seen a frame like mine in action. Firing four weapons in four directions is a hell of a drug.”

The moment Richard asked about something other than his A.W.E., however, Wolf hit a brick wall. In a life surrounded by scientists and military commanders, it wasn’t often that people actually asked about anything other than combat. Didn’t help that his interests weren’t that different from combat, or particularly interesting. “I guess, uh…I like freerunning. And martial arts. That’s pretty much it. I play around with some online games on occasion.” He was starting to falter a little bit – he was definitely not used to talking about himself. He fell silent, letting the others continue. Maybe one of them would accidentally remind him of something.

"I dance."

Flipping a hand over idly, Sasha leaned back in her chair. Richard seemed droll enough, true to form from what she'd heard of his countrymen though she had nothing to judge by personally. In a world of military men where showing interest seemed tantamount to admitting defeat half of the time, she wondered idly how hard a boy like Wolf would have it when he was so proud of what he did and was. With luck, the battlefield would get him the limelight he wanted. Sasha's life had hardly been so military, so involved in the business as the rest, and so it seemed less important to her. Humility in humble beginnings, and all that.

"Ballet, I mean, none of the clubbing and grinding nonsense you hear about these days. I read a bit, but not much--trashy things, not important. I doubt you'd approve." She added to Thessalia with an easy chuckle. "And I play the piano, but not so well. You all have spent much more time in the industry, from what I understand, I'm sure it would seem dull to you. I've been learning more about martial arts, though, the comparison with dancing has been made so often that I can't help but wonder if it's accurate at all. You'll two will have to perform for me, some time, we'll see." Grinning slightly, amused at the thought, she relaxed bonelessly in her chair. So comfortable, around this place--in the lap of luxury for once in her life, she intended to enjoy it.

The wordless exchange did it's work - despite the only barely visible discomfort, Roman did not excuse himself but rather took a seat among the group; most likely coming to a similar conclusion as to what course of action was, in the long run, the most beneficial. That done, Thessalia shifted her focus back to Wolf as he spoke up following Richard's question; giving a simple nod as he first reconfirmed everyone's names. It seemed that Richard had taken the German's interest with his A.W.E.'s - which, given his quickly apparent competitive nature, would most likely be reciprocated by the Englishman's own. What followed thereafter, however, was far less predictable - lowering his hoodie beneath his neckline, Wolf revealed something that was most definitely out of the usual. Narrowing her eyes to get a clear look at it, Wolf explained that what they were seeing was essentially an input to a neural interface device. Leaning back again, Thessalia thought upon the matter - neural interfacing had been a long-standing subject of research of various companies and groups but, until recently it seemed, never had managed to reach a practical level of application; the current methods to date still proving simply more efficient and with less yet-unknown factors. As such, it would certainly be an interesting subject as to just how useful it would prove itself.

Sasha, it seemed, held this news in similar regard, judging by her remark. Speaking up thereafter about herself, she revealed that both her A.W.E. was of a heavier build and that her experience with the matter was a more recent developement than most. As it would appear, however, she neither took pride in that nor felt worse off for it - instead just taking it in her stride. That, at least, was not what motivated her it seemed - though the fact that both Wolf and Sasha had been placed in Squad One was certainly telling about their skills either way. As such, their squad had gained a fast attacker and long-range fire support - both of which would certainly come in handy. Passing a glance over the four seated squad members, it would appear that Wolf would most likely be an easy fit, assuming that Richard and him didn't rub each other the wrong way. Sasha on the other hand - it was more difficult to place her, though she did not seem opposed to the Squad as a whole. It looked as if this composition might actually be able to get through - for now, Thessalia added as an afterthought with a last glance to her side, as there was still the last factor in the team that would reveal itself soon enough.

After a last exchange between Richard and Wolf, the former turned the current topic away from A.W.E.'s - and instead toward what everyone did outside of them. The slightly trailing end did not go quite unnoticed - though rather give any indication about it, Thessalia simply gave a nod for now about Richard's assessment. What the Englishman said of himself was not unknown to her - seeing as he often took over cooking duties and often came back to the dorm with a few new bruises and scrapes after some down time.

Wolf's enthusiasm that had been evident in his voice as she spoke about his A.W.E. quickly faded as he seemed to stumble over how to answer - a telling sign of his upbringing, seeing as Thessalia recognised it immediately. Much like expected, the German's pasttimes were mainly atheltic-oriented - befitting what little had been able to be garnered about him. Sasha's answer, meanwhile, came in a far less restrained fashion as she revealed herself as a dancer, a reader and a piano player. The Russian's remark about her choice of reading, directed at Thessalia, got her a momentary quizzical look before she alreay spoke on - not for the Swiss' surprise at the remark but rather a questioning of just how a book could be considered trashy.

Either way, however, Sasha soon after leaned back into the chair as she came to an end - leaving the next one to speak up. Seeing as the only two remaining were Roman and herself, it wasn't difficult to guess who it would be. Leaning back forward into a fully upright position, Thessalia cast a glance toward Richard before speaking. "As you said, I like to read. On various things," she said, her voice lacking any distinct accent and retaining its usual calm as she did. "That's all, really," she then added after a small pause - which was true, considering that for the most part, she preoccupied herself far more with A.W.E. related topics even during alleged free time. Compared to the others, it sounded somewhat lackluster - but to herself, she was quite fine with it. With that, Thessalia cast a quick glance over to her side - a simple reminder that someone still was to speak up.

Roman's face held a blank expression as the talk of A.W.E.s went around the small sitting area. As he had expected, none of the information was really relevant to him, since nearly all of it pertained to stuff that would be happening while he wasn't around. There was one thing of interest, however. The German man had showed the group a piece of technology that Roman had only heard mention of, but didn't know had been completed. Spirit had only briefly dabbled in the world of direct mind integration, and the final result was the HO10 drone's AI and control mechanism. The technology itself pertaining to mind reading was extremely crude; barely able to pick up simple things such as directions and some images. However, after an extremely long time in the R&D labs, the engineers and scientist managed to get an extremely advanced AI capable of working with what they were given. After that, all further research was dropped due to cost, manpower required, and a stray of focus from what the company was truly good at. The intellectual properties and patents were sold, and there after, not a whole lot of tabs were kept on it. By the German's explanation, this was the final product after numerous years of further research. It was interesting, if nothing else. Silence then fell as everyone seemed to run out of things to mention. Roman's legs began to bounce slightly, as he waited nervously to see what the new topic was about to become. It was too early for bed; no one had even had dinner yet. In truth, if there was any other subject that could be brought up, it would have to be...

Roman's blood pressure began to spike when Richard did the inevitable and begun the one process of introductions Roman had been dreading. It was tie for the sharing phase, apparently. Richard's questioning of the newcomer's hobbies would have to be returning with explanations of their own. Roman would not be able to skirt this bit of interaction. Thessalia certainly wouldn't allow it. Roman's mind began to race as he tried to come up with something to say when it finally became his turn to speak. This was not helped by his desire to listen to the others. Finding out what they liked would let him know where not to go during the day. In the end, the need for information won, as Roman forced himself to remain calm and pay attention. Showing no signs of his internal battle, Roman fixed his gaze upon each person as they spoke.

Their actual word, however, were both interesting and comforting. It seemed as if the Colonel did a good job of picking people who would compliment the team on a personality basis. The newcomers seemed to be a near perfect reflection of the originals. This would make them super easy to deal with, as well as give them someone else to hang out with. The Wolfgang and Richard would have a field day beating the crap out of each other, while Sasha and Thessalia might start a book club. the former more likely to happen then the latter, it still helped ease Roman's worry. That is, until the silence came once again. Roman could feel Thessalia's eyes on him. He was expected to speak. What, however, was the question. If he was being honest, he really didn't have many hobbies. His general idea of a good way to pass the time was to sit alone in silence and do puzzles. Not really something extremely noteworthy. Nonetheless, he was expected to say something.

Looking around the room, Roman could see all eyes upon him now. He could feel the urge to simply get up, and bolt into the bathroom to hide rising. A wave of unbridled nausea washed over him, as the color began rapidly draining from his face. A quick glance to Richard showed that no help would be coming from him, and Roman didn't even need to look at Thessalia to know none would be from her either. He was on his own. He was alone. In the back of his mind, Roman could faintly hear the sound of Paxton's voice telling him what he was supposed to do in these situations. It would have been useful information, if he could understand an of his words. All the advice he had given him, and that Roman had been practicing on Thessalia over the past two months were now just a jumbled mess of intelligible sounds. The wave of nausea intensified as Roman realized that at this very moment, he was angry with himself. What had been the point of practicing this, if in the end, he was just going to choke? He needed to put his game face on, and just do this. If he did a good job, surely Thessalia would back him up afterwards. The silence occurring as roman fought with himself was long, drawn out, and uncomfortable. It was time to end it. "I..." Roman started, his voice weak but audible, "I like to-"

"Cadets!"

The voice boomed over the loudspeaker, drowning out Roman's voice. Roman shut his mouth and rapidly turned to look at the loudspeaker in the corner of the room where the word had come from. The voice of the Colonel was being projected into the room over the intercom. After an extremely brief quiet, it kicked on again.

"-uit yer bitchin' already Sa'eed! You can throw a tantrum at Balwin if you want, but g-"

Once again, silence.

"Ahem... Cadets! I have some good news! Despite some individuals trying to undercut my selection, I managed to get who was and is to be your third new teammate back. She should be arriving at your dorm in a matter of sec- Ah, there she is. Everyone, play nice, and make my work worth it!"

The intercom went silent for the final time, as the hiss of the dorm door could be heard. Slowly, Roman and everyone else turned to see who had arrived.

It was a confusing day for Hu-Shi Zhong, even though she didn't have to deal with any of the confusion head-on. That day, after her third-year tutor congratulated her in the achievement of finally catching up to the current course material for first years, she had received a couple of contradictory emails on her holopad, from separate people, telling her to go to different teams. Or, more like, they were telling her to either go to the squad that she was originally in, or to a new one. Most likely, the system for allocating teams was just acting up that day. Database problems was something that humanity could never get rid of, wasn't it? It was sorta funny, really, and brought a smile on Hu-Shi's face as she thought that.

Taking one last look at the single room that she stayed in for the past 60 days, all her luggage and decorations having already been teleported to her new dorm. The Chinese girl had heard that dorms had gender separate bedrooms, and it was rather exciting, living in a boarding-school-esque dormitory, where everyone slept in the same room, on bunk beds, exchanging stories late into the night.

Well, considering how most of the other students in her classes seem rather tired in the morning, perhaps it would be better to let them all just sleep at night instead. The Chinese girl never felt like she needed much sleep, but she knew from experience that not everyone could function properly on as little sleep as herself. She bowed once towards the empty room for putting up with her small eccentricities for so long, before leaving, a box in her hands.

It was a shame that she hadn't thought to look up her future teammates on Luna Academy's (unofficial) team list database, or she would have definitely looked their names up on Spacebook and connected their names to their faces, but alas, cookies will have to do. She skipped out on lunch during her break to get into the cafeteria and bake them, after all, so they were as fresh as they could reasonably be. Butter pecan, chocolate chip cookies, and animal-shaped biscuits. The cafeteria staff were fine with her using the oven that long, thankfully. They had already baked their morning bread, and Hu-Shi was rather relieved that she wasn't imposing on them in any way. Opening the plastic container to take a whiff of the warm aroma of the confections, she smiled helplessly as her stomach grumbled. Seems like she'll be enjoying these cookies the most, after all.

Finally reaching the dorms, she stopped just one foot away from the sensor, before bringing out her holopad, pulling up the 'Mirror' application, and just taking an extra minute to make sure that her appearance was on par that day. For the occasion, her black hair was done up in Chinese ox horns, one bun on either side of her head, her bangs thinner than normal. She would have like to have more time to adjust the asymmetry of her hairstyle, but, alas, she shouldn't keep them waiting for too long. Parting a strand of hair to the side, Hu-Shi took a deep breath, rehearsed her introduction, made a prayer to her ancestors, and then stepped forwards

With a barely audible hiss, the metal doors parted and she stepped in with a warm smile of greeting. Five people were in the room, lounging about in the living area. There was a television mounted on the wall, but it appeared as if no one was focusing on it at the moment. Ah, that was right, she heard that there would be other new members as well. But no indication of WHO was new.

Five people of different ethnicities. She could roughly guess what their nationalities were, but that was the extent of her ability. A blond male who wore shades indoors, one that looked like a sketchy gangster person with anger management issues. He looked like the type of person who liked their coffee bitter, because they were too 'manly' to enjoy sweet things. Next time, she'll have to prepare salty crackers as well then, with more traditional shapes than animals. The next person to draw her attention was another male, with a scruffier appearance. Based off physical description alone, the Chinese girl would have marked him off as a relaxed, lazy person who didn't like to wake up in the morning to shave. But she could see the anxiety and nervousness in his eyes, and that immediately marked him out as a Canadian. After all, it was highly unlikely that a country of red-blooded, patriotic, slightly xenophobic manly men would raise up a teenager who looked like he would be afraid of his own shadow. Then again, Hu-Shi will give him the benefit of the doubt. He was probably new to the team as well, and was nervous, meeting his new teammates.

With her eyes settling on a member of the Aryan race, Hu-Shi could say that there definitely was a reason for that Canadian kid's fear. He was literally the only male in this squad that wasn't male or objectively handsome. The blond in shades gave off the aura of a bad boy who would probably be popular with girls in bars, while the short-cropped blond had the presence of a pretty pop song idol, the type to serenade people with lovely acoustic music. Compared to No-Shave-Boy, they were all so...sparkly. Yeah, Hu-Shi felt sorry for that Canadian. It must be hard, feeling so inferior amongst the lions.

The girls on the other hand...they looked noticeably more ordinary than the guys. At least, there wasn't some punk rock girl with pink hair and tattoos on her face, even though that pale-haired girl had the poise of an ice queen. She looked like the leader of the group, if nothing else, with the other girl as her 'secretary', perhaps? So the 'top brass' of this team would be the girls. Considering what one of her history-nerd friends told her in the past, this was truly progress.

Finally speaking, after her fifteen seconds of internal monologue was concluded, Hu-Shi said cheerily, “Good afternoon, Squad One. I'm sure you've already heard from the Colonel, but I'm one of the original members of this team. Due to an accident though, I was hospitalized for quite a bit, but now I'm all caught up with the course material and fully recovered, so don't worry about me! Oh yeah, and my name's Hu-Shi Zhong, from China. My hobbies are knitting, gardening, and cooking, but I was thinking of trying out martial arts some time, so I would appreciate any help in that venture...hm...lemme see...and I also baked some cookies. There's chocolate chip, butter pecan, and biscuits. Ah, but is there anyone lactose intolerant here? I made them using real milk, so that might be a problem.”

With that, she placed the plastic container onto the table, opened the lid, suppressed the urge to eat one, and then finished, “Hope you all enjoy it, and I'm always open to feedback regarding my cooking. Been trying out Western dishes recently, and it just feels so weird, not using rice.”

Ah, she was probably forgetting something important, but she decided that she'll just remember it later, and instead, she took a seat at the far end of the wooden coffee table, in seiza position.

Seemed like the dorm was pretty plain as well. She should work on that. It would be nice to have some more color in this place. Perhaps violets and viscarias first? And then move into camillas? Maybe, if they were allowed to mess with the walls, she could try doing one of those fancy hanging gardens...

After Wolfgang opened his mouth again, Richard could feel the competitive blood in his body welling up. Another martial artist eh? Perhaps he can be of more challenge than the others he found in the gym. Unconsciously, he clenched and unclenched his fist, a small smile appearing under his face, but this was not the smile of a teammate sharing a common interest, it was the one of a predator sizing up its next prey. However, the wavering in his voice was not lost on Richard, and he felt a bit of pity for him. The A.W.E company that sponsored him probably controlled his life too much, so he knew nothing more than combat. He was, for all intents and purposes, a puppet for them to test their newest toys. That said, his father often used him as a test subject. Perhaps they were even more alike than he had thought, though he would never admit it. Come to think of it, after his feedback about the FIEND model, Richard’s father became very enthusiastic, saying something about a possible new model. He inwardly rolled his eyes when he heard that. Switching between models was interesting and all, but it affected his specialisation. Way too much.

Sasha’s hobbies were more…interesting to say the least. Unlike the rest of them, she probably had not had a military upbringing, and her little pleasures reflected that. Although trashy books were common to any teenager around their age, especially the military, though for some reason more common with women than men. Men preferred pictures. Dance though. That perplexed him a little for someone who used a heavy machine. If she was so limber and fast enough to dance, then should she not be in a lighter model? Rubbing the stubble on the bottom of his chin, he thought about it for a second. There were several types of dance of course, but he could harly imagine the new Russian doing some…robust style of dancing. It became clear when she said ballet, but that just perplexed him more. She really should have been in a lighter unit…When she mentioned that she would enjoy watching Feurer and him…perform…in future, a small smile appeared on his face. “I think I will enjoy it too, madame,” he said, swapping a quick look with Wolfgang.

Thessalia was next, and her explanation was as blunt as it was succinct. Just as he had suspected, really. Like him though, her eyes were locked on someone else, and her mind was focussing on another person. Stealthily, he cast a glance towards Roman, an arm ready to grab his arm and lock him down under the guise of a friendly back pat. Richard noticed the colour drain away from his face, but there was something there that was usually never there. There was the tiniest tint of confidence in his voice that surprised him. Was he actually…going to introduce himself without being surreptitiously pinned down where he stood? Richard felt a small smile emerging onto his face and a swelling of pride in his breast. Was he finally growing out of his introverted behaviour? The smile disappeared a few seconds later. Or…was Jack just gaining power slowly, but surely. One answer pleased him, the other he had mixed feelings about.

Just as Jack was finally coming out of his shell, a loud booming voice interrupted them from the loudspeaker in the corner. At the loud bark of Landsfeldt, Richard’s head instantly snapped around, and he had to resist the urge to salute the invisible commander. Nevertheless, his back became ramrod straight and his chin was held up high, as if he had a stock collar. After a lack of further speech, Richard wondered if he had just done this to prevent them tearing each other’s throats out in case of emergency, but it came back a second later with a hint of anger in it.

"-uit yer bitchin' already Sa'eed! You can throw a tantrum at Balwin if you want, but g-"

Did he say a hint? He meant seething with anger. Richard didn’t know if the Colonel had meant for them to hear that or not, but either way, the cadets found themselves staring at each other in confusion. It also seemed that this…Sa’eed person would not live a long and comfortable life as long as Landsfeldt was still alive. However long that may be, although it may as well be forever since Richard was already sure most of his organs had been replaced by machines. The man was already a living relic, so he wouldn’t be surprised if by the time Richard died of old age, or war, the Colonel was still alive and kicking.

After the brief bout of silence, the Colonel’s voice came in again, this time, more composed and refined.

"Ahem... Cadets! I have some good news! Despite some individuals trying to undercut my selection, I managed to get who was and is to be your third new teammate back. She should be arriving at your dorm in a matter of sec- Ah, there she is. Everyone, play nice, and make my work worth it!"

Another teammate? Underneath his sunglasses, he raised an eyebrow. The Colonel really did pull out all the stops didn’t he? He had to wonder who the new person was. It seemed he wouldn’t have to wait long though, with the door opening to reveal their final team member

It appeared that their final team member was of Asian descent, and from the facial structure, he could guess where she was from. SPIRIT dealt with the Chinese companies a lot, mainly for raw materials and mass production, and as such, he had grown up with constantly hearing their language in the halls of the SPIRIT labs. Even so, it all sounded like gibberish to him, apart from a few words which he managed to pick up. And even then, it wasn’t the best pronounced or the most extensive vocabulary. Hell, even his French was better than it, and that was saying something. Then again, he had never had any formal training in the Chinese language. Inwardly, Richard cleared his mind as he realised he was going off topic.

As she gave her little introduction, Richard leaned back in his seat and rubbed his chin. She was part of the original team? With Karl and…what was her name? The other Russian woman? Maroon? He furrowed his brow as he tried to think before realising he was being rude. Either way, that association did not bode well, but the Colonel did say that she would fit well with them, but only time would tell if they really could mesh together as a team. As he tuned back in, he realised that this Hu-Shi girl was listing her hobbies…and they were all so archaic. Apart from cooking. It was nice to have someone else who appreciated the culinary arts. When she opened the box though, a heavenly smell drifted out, dragging Richard by the nostrils. The smell of sweet pastry, slightly melted chocolate and creamy milk. This took him back, all the way back to England, before DEMON was taken over by SPIRIT. His mother would always bake in her spare time, with Richard helping out, or rather, making a nuisance of himself. Come to think of it, that was where he had started cooking too, making biscuits, scones and crumpets. He chuckled. He liked this new one already.

“Well, it’s always nice to have another chef in the squad,” Richard said as he plucked a biscuit from the box, examining its perfectly rounded shape, before popping it into his mouth. The taste was sweet, but mild, and the pastry crumbled in his mouth after a single bite. He raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t had a biscuit this good in a while. “Hey, you’re good,” he said as he swallowed the mouthful of crumbs, wiping away a few that had made it into the corners of his mouth, “but you know what would make this better? A good cup of tea.” Standing up, Richard dusted his clothes off and tapped the side of his glasses, turning the lenses clear. He no longer needed to hide himself. They were all teammates now after all. Taking another biscuit as he meandered into the kitchen, he popped the larger one into his mouth, holding it there with his lips as he rifled through the cabinets for that tin of tea that he had brought with him. “Would anyone else like some?” he shouted from the kitchen, a little bit muffled from the cookie in his mouth.

Following Thessalia's words, there was a momentary pause - even as she cast a glance at the last one to speak, she noticed a minor shift in Richard's pose as he too knew who was to follow. That, however, turned out to be unnecessary - as Roman, after the short silence, actually spoke up himself. More of a whisper than a word, he began again a second time; now in an actually audible tone - only to be abruptly cut off the the sudden shark bark of the Colonel's voice as the intercom came to life. With a single word, he had the attention of the entire room without even having to be present; heads being turned toward the intercom - including Thessalia's. What followed, however, was an incomplete, but understandable sentence nontheless - whilst the reason thereof was unclear, Colonel Landsfeldt was clearly not pleased with this so-called Sa'eed. Another brief silence fell before the Colonel addressed Squad One again.

A sixth squadmate - that was the announcement; an inferrable answer to the question of who and why the Colonel was talking to before included as well. And just as he finished speaking, announcing her arrival, the intercom went silent again; instead being replaced by the familiar hiss of the door. Thessalia's eyes, as well as all four pairs of the other squad members' no doubt, immediately switched from the intercom to the new arrival. The one in question stepped in with a friendly smile, a plastic box of sorts in her hands. An Asian descent was noticeable in her features, even before she would begin to speak just moments later and introduce herself as Hu-Shi Zhong and confirm herself as Chinese. Making a mental note of the name to remember, Thessalia instead focused on what else she said - she was supposed to have been part of the Squad from the beginning; much like the now-transferred Karl and Scarlett.

Furthermore, she had been hospitalised but now back up to speed on the coursework that had been covered over the past two months - which meant that she was most likely quite diligent and/or already had acquired some experience in A.W.E. piloting; much like the whole of the Squad. Her hobbies meanwhile were in part shared, such as cooking and martial arts, and new, such as knitting and gardening. Furthermore, baking seemed to be part of it - at least judging by the plastic container that she announced to be full of cookies. The scent thereof quickly confirmed this when Hu-Shi opened the lid thereof - even as she named the different flavours. Either she was trying pretty hard to impress or she was a simply genuinly friendly person, Thessalia concluded as the Chinese took her own seat, if in a slightly different form from the rest.

Richard, meanwhile, had few qualms about the Chinese - instead reaching for a cookie as he noted the addition of another capable cook. As he thereafter was visibly taking a liking to the biscuit in his mouth, Thessalia reached for one; sparing it a glance before taking a small bite. She was no expert in such things, but in her opinion too the taste was quite good. Richard spoke up once again - and turned his glasses clear as he stood up to head toward the kitchen; asking if anyone else wanted a cup of tea. Glancing back at the collection of cookies, Thessalia gave a simple "Yes, please," for an answer; her voice once more bare of any discernable accent, before placing the second half of the biscuit in her mouth; using the small pause thereof to look back to the Chinese - and await her answers to the questions that the others would almost undoubtedly ask just moments later.

Wolf was saved from embarrassment as the other squad members introduced themselves beyond the confined of martial importance. His faltering would surely not go unnoticed, but for the moment, no one said anything, and he was able to focus on what the others had to say. An interesting lot he had been thrown in with, for sure. The Colonel had some interesting ideas…

Sasha’s comment about “clubbing nonsense” cause a little bit of indignation – Wolf personally enjoyed raves and the like, and the music and dancing that were associated. The dancing especially – while not professional in the least, it was an excellent opportunity to let loose with all the freerunning finesse he could muster. Mixed with the rhythm of the beat, that awesome, heavy pounding, and the dancing and the swirling of the lights, pulsing with the music…

He shook himself back into reality. He suspected the only rhythmic beat he’d get for a while was the thumping of mortar fire and cannon shells. Not that that was any less enjoyable necessarily. Wolf caught the glance Richard gave him at Sasha’s invitation to perform, and returned just the slightest of winks. There would surely be fun to follow.

Thessalia was…well, to the point. She was a reader. A heavy reader. Wolf reminded himself to not try too hard to be friends with her – as with any relationship between the bookish and the athletic, it would either happen, or it wouldn’t. That had been his experience anyway. He turned his attention to the quietest of mice in the corner, straining to hear what the poor boy was saying...

“Cadets!”

The Colonel’s booming voice commanded the entire room, forcing an immediate silence and respect. Wolf couldn’t help but laugh a little at the exchange, finding it far more humorous then the rest of the group did. Although the announcement of another teammate came as much a surprise to him as anyone – the file must not have updated on his end yet, or he would have seen the new face in the roster.

On that note, the new face was…cute. Not exactly his type though. But good cooking was always welcome! “Thanks!” As he took a bite into the cookie, it began crumbling in his mouth. His only response to the raw wave of deliciousness was a muffled “Theshe armf delish..Mm!”, the last as a large chunk broke off, which he promptly caught before letting it contact the floor.

As Richard got up to make tea, Wolf plopped back into his seat from the edge he had been sitting on. At the offer of tea, he immediately got up again, making his own way into the kitchen, shouting ahead “Why have tea when you can have hard, black coffee?!” He only hoped there was a decent coffee machine. He gave Richard a look of his own – one that said little, but told worlds about how far they could take the competition that was already brewing between them. Oh yes, there would be plenty of fun to follow.

As the rest of the introductions finished themselves up--nothing surprising, Thessalia was a bookworm when she wasn't being a commander and Roman was barely able to speak up--the loudspeaker chimed in just as Sasha was beginning to lose interest. She found herself snorting at the exchange. Quite the chain of command they had around here, it would seem, but at the announcement of a sixth member of things her ears perked and she sat back up a bit. Another girl, Chinese, who promptly stepped inside and introduced herself.

...Thoroughly.

Thessalia seemed to be a bit closer to Sasha's temperament, at least in rest, but it was clear from the get go that the bubbly Asian brought a bit more to the social table. Good for her--Sasha had always been able to take or leave other people, and it would be good for the boys to have someone a bit more engaging. She was beginning to see where some of the cracks might have formed last time, though if she wondered quite which crack she would be filling she didn't say. If she wasn't one for sweets, or really eating much in general, no reason to turn down a perfectly good biscuit. She leaned forward without getting up, stretching long to pluck one of the crumbly treats from the box and leaned back once more to dissect it, pulling it into little pieces and popping them into her mouth with an easy 'mm' of approval.

"Thank you. And I'm surprised to say I'm with Wolf,"--the w's were closer to v's when they came from her, but she didn't seem to care--"have you any coffee? I drink too much of it. I always end up forgetting about my tea, coffee at least helps me focus." Propping her head up on the back of the couch, she smiled a bit and picked apart more of the biscuit before speaking to the newcomer. "I met a girl from China, once. She had the most beautiful legs. Do you dance, Hu-Shi? You don't look like a dancer, but neither did she."