A. Finch

Atari acknowledged the commands from Atticus with a curt nod before continuing to examine the other Spartans who had spoken before her. Even sitting down Spartan 643, Ethan, stood out. His speech was monotonous and his pale skin seemed to almost reflect the light of the debriefing room. He had been assigned the role of Tactician, and it was easy to tell why. Atari had always seen the tactical parts of battle as drab, but 643's methodical response to the Captain indicated to her that he might actually enjoy the meticulous and more carefully calculated parts of life. In essence, Tactician seemed right up his alley.

The Weapons Specialist was Spartan 561, he had seemed incredibly eager to get his position when the squad had been put together. He didn’t look like much; his cropped hair and muscular build was generic for a Spartan. Forgettable, almost.  Atari ‘s eyes flitted over him without a second glance. 

That brought her critical gaze back to the front of the room. Atticus, Spartan 179, had spoken first. He had been called to the front of the mess before the rest of the squad His skills and rank had earned him the position of Captain, but that meant little to Atari. Her focus was on completing the missions they would be assigned, and while the captain had been clear in his statement about not tolerating lone-wolves, the notion of working with others wasn’t something she would adapt to with much ease. Her skills would allow her to protect her squad from afar, but that also mean that she wouldn’t be required to work with them up close on many occasions.

Atari crossed her arms over her chest and relaxed back against the wall, her eyes stared at the ceiling, an almost rude or disrespectful behavior, but also one of boredom. She was anxious to get out and prove her skills as a sniper, even if she had to work with other people to do it. Her short height made the small Spartan much less intimidating, but also worked to her advantage in that the shock factor was much greater when people realized that she could handle herself. Her petite frame was capable of packing quite a punch, and from the day her instructor had put a sniper rifle in her eager hands she had missed only a handful of shots. Her role as a Sniper had been cemented since that day, and the thought of using her skills was thrilling.

A calming breath escaped her lips as she opened her eyes once more, waiting for further instruction from the squad’s captain.