"Oh, did you not know?"  Izkry was surprised to be asked how he knew German.  They'd really not made all that much of a secret of their origins, but it didn't always come up.  "Until I was eleven, I lived in Germany, though much of that was in a government facility I did not like.  But I am a Swiss citizen now, and proud to be."  He smiled, hoping his birthplace would not be a mark against him.  "Oddly enough, Switzerland uses a language very like the one in Germany.  ...And local dialects are called German too -- Swiss German, that is, but they're quite different."

If Belasý had heard him speaking of their pass before Switzerland she would have disapproved.  She preferred to pretend it had never existed, even though she had a strong bias against the German government because of it.  She was doing better, at least.  She didn't interact a lot, but she didn't avoid everyone as much as she used to.  [i]Slow progress is still progress,[/i] Izkry thought to himself.

As the others joined her outside, Belasý finished her stretches and stood at ease, though she nudged her brother as a reminder that he should stretch as well.  She observed the others as they fell in, the man that looked like someone from the Far East, the earnest young man that Izkry worked with in German, the slightly older fellow that her brother liked talking engines with, the Russian woman, and the woman that acted like she should be in a fashion magazine instead of a training camp.  She was amused by that one's efforts to move in combat gear as if on a catwalk.  If she wanted grace in fatigues, she needed to move like an athlete, or a predator.  Not like some mincing lady in heels and a tight-fitting dress.  Belasý had no illusions of who was the prettier between herself and Maria -- and really she rarely considered the matter -- but in combat dress Bel would wager good money that she could manage to be more attractive, especially if they discounted the face.

Izkry had to agree with Captain Stevens' commentary, even if the man was surprisingly kind to a mouthy private.  "Don't think having powers is enough.  You want as many things going for you as you can get.  And you want a team that will have your back.  What is the English expression?  'A chain is as strong as its links'?"  He knew the coward would understand the dig for what it was, but he didn't see a need to broadcast the man's shortcomings.

Bel was even more pleased than her brother that the Captain was emphasizing proper training.  Even if she didn't hate her special power, it was hardly a way out of everything.  Trusting completely in any skill or weapon would lead to overconfidence, sloppiness, and any number of other dangerous shortcomings.  She glanced up at her superior officer for a moment, bright blue eyes assessing him for the thousandth time.  He seemed like a skilled soldier and a capable leader.  Certainly he appeared to care for those under his command.  But she'd never seen him in a real fight.  Captain was a commissioned officer rank, in most cases, and the decorations she'd seen him wearing didn't include anything for combat.  He might very well break down on the field.  She'd seen it happen before.  Officer training didn't guarantee a good officer -- just (hopefully) the right skillset.