It was very interesting that the Captain would pick an officer so quickly. Dean could only assume that the very best candidate out of the squad was picked for such a position. There was no envy here; leadership wasnât exactly a skill in this blondeâs possession. No, he was far more comfortable waiting for and completing orders. It wasnât the most glamorous, but it surly helped quell any surge of bravado or idiocy in terms of Dean stepping in and suggesting that maybe everyone wasnât on top of their game after a long tiring flight. But boy, could Sargent Feng chew out with the best of them. Clearly a man with that many injuries lacked the patience for new recruits. He looked more like a mangy guard dog than anything, but anyone who could live through what it looks like Fengâs been through must either be lucky, or skilled. Although the more he thought about it, would he consider being stationed here an insult? Serving with a high probability of death only to be sent to some undercooked organization⊠who would have thunk it?
Hm, this was going to be a long operation, wasnât it? A long, boring operation that couldnât live up to the high expectations some of the squad expected. Fantastic. Maybe escorting scientists around places with âalien activityâ wouldnât be that bad. Sure, it was rather unlikely that thereâd be any fighting, but all that left was boring hours looking at a whole lot of nothing. Ah well, no use complaining. Rifling through his newly acquired bag, Dean held his attention on whatever he could find, choosing to study the contents so he wouldnât have to go over them later. The PDA was a bit prehistoric, and there was a hunch that the included email address wouldnât be used for anything personal. The information it contained about how the operation would conduct itself was the most important, so Dean began to read over that while the authority filed out.