Capt Nelson found himself once again in the major's familiar office. Unfamiliar was an odd sense of desperation that filled the air.
"The pictures, where are they?" spat the major.
"Here is the Desert Scorpion anti-tank expert. He was recently acquired in a manpower exchange from your connection 'The Dragon', and converted from his previous designation as a Free Marine."
"Yes, his ilk are easy to find these days. Not so much the Desert Scorpions. You got your wish. Now what else is there?"
The Captain took a moment to clear his throat.
"Here is the Cartel class. You will notice the four doom troopers. The two Capitol inductees are from the very old school, although their equipment has been upgraded. The two Mishimans are the new group. Here are their files."
Major Anderson greedily snatched them up, mumbling something about strengths and weaknesses.
"Also, here are the rest of the agents. You'll note a few of these are rather 'old school' as well. Then we have this individual-his recruitment was hasslefree, and he has made a fine addition. Also there is the medic. There must be some sort of cosmic law that says these guys must be butt-ugly for some reason" The captain frowned. "Then there is the female-"
"Enough!" the major barked. "You may go."
The major ruminated on this member of the team he had so carefully inserted. Some of his fellow "organizational" members thought she was a Nepharite of Semai due to some imagery they had seen. It was a foolish notion; a Nepharite would not arm itself with something as puny as a human pistol. No, for now she would do as a Cartel agent, but he knew her for her true identity, a female Heretic.
His master would be pleased.
He hoped.
