Sam made a point of gauging the response of the others as Daniel and the General spoke. The two of them always insisted on using such a flowery turn of phrase that sounded like they had a stick up their own asses and were taking themselves too seriously. In fact, everyone in the room- with the exception of the half-elf, looked to be a mercenary- or a freelancer, whichever term they preferred. From looking at the receipt for his cut of the advance pay they'd shared with him, Sam doubted many of them would be joining on with the mission- the pay was low by most standards. 

The mission [i]was[/i] fairly important, Sam concluded as he listened to Daniel. While he didn't care much about the politics of the other two nations, his siblings [i]had[/i] subtly expressed their discomfort with the current Prime Minister's increasingly aggressive political policies. The factories they worked at had been getting increasingly large requisition orders for more airship parts- some smaller airships being built from the ground up within the factory itself. There was also talk of conscription policies becoming more strict, with there being some talk of taking entire towns worth of men into the armed forces at any moment. Of course, most of the aristocrats wouldn't be forced to serve- a few would probably take the roles as officers for glory, leaving the common man to die in droves in foreign skies.

That fact alone solidified Sam's resolve in the IRIO's mission, though it wasn't like Sam had much choice in the matter, being a contractor and all. It was the responses of the others that surprised Sam the most. 

Two of the Mercenaries were obviously pair- at least in regards to their profession. The male, was young- around Sam's age probably. He was also enthusiastic, and a self-proclaimed idealist. He hadn't been in the mercenary business long- couldn't have been. Most mercenaries were an older, gruffer bunch; they needed to be to survive. The young and enthusiastic ones were always had more of a spring to their movements sure, but they always took off more than they could handle. The oldest mercenaries were the ones lucky and skilled enough to get through their younger phase intact. The woman of the pair was a much more dangerous prospect. She looked the look, and talked the talk of a killer, one that was probably fairly good at it. The idea of someone like that on his ship was a little nerve wracking, but he supposed it was better having her on his side than not.    

The half-elf was another interesting pick. He seemed a good enough sort of folk, if a bit stuffy. He seemed a well-to-do sort of fellow, and was probably well educated, and was unique in the fact that he was so plain, that in comparison to the others, he actually stood out. 

The one with the red hair had an endearing look to her, with a pretty, round face and bright eyes- not to mention her upbeat voice; but the  ornamentally inscribed and battleworn rifle looked like it had seen a fairly large amount of use. 

[color=lightsalmon]"Jeezus General, you sure know how to pick 'em."[/color] Sam remarked with a slight grin as he snubbed out his cigarette on the table's ashtray.