[@Silverwind Blade]

Max took a seat, feeling that maybe indeed, everyone was quiet for reasons other than it just being the morning. He looked back across at the deer, the tag "Sobero" ringing a bell. She must have been in that other family Dad spoke about all those years ago, Max thought to himself....he heard something about their youngest signing up back when he joined the reconaissance company and underwent selection. Alas, for now he had a briefing to listen to, and General Vresco's presence here gave this all some legitimacy. It felt serious- he was involved at the top echelon of decisions in Solernia's national defence and the other lion in the room felt a little contrary to him. 

Listening in, he couldn't place what kind of evil this was. Killing people was one thing, but abductions? This wasn't a terrorist group, it sounded like some kind of cult, like those headcases in Simal. Even then, it wasn't their motive, nor care to do it on a scale this wide. The disappearances of major figures in science and government just seemed odd. Like someone was trying to pull the bricks out of Solernia, and whatever it was, Max just seemed puzzled. It wasn't like the peacekeeping work in Embrai he was tasked with, it felt like an invisible hand. A threat you couldn't see, and what he couldn't see with his observer's eyes he couldn't hit. A knife in the dark.

Max continued to pay attention, hearing the scope of what this was going to be like as an operation. Joint task force work was fine, albeit sometimes scrappy by his standards- other armies were good but had their own protocols and ways of doing things. So long as they didn't get in the way of the ultimate role of this team, he was happy with that. Which again, he also was up for. The decision was very straightforward, even in spite of how dangerous it sounded. But then again, Max wanted the next step, and he'd be dammed if he went back to his old unit, watched by another group of bloody officers on top of his old CO. So it made sense to him, as he nodded to Silverwind, giving a direct and affermative look to say without words that he was in. His story itself, and the mission brief blended well, giving a flavour of what Max's new squad would be up to. Combined-forces, helicopter insertions and GEARs in an anti-piracy dawn raid, taking down an unknown enemey. It sounded like insanity to most people. Practically like suicide. But two things stood out to Max. They wouldn't be going in that force if they didn't stand a chance. The best gear, and a lot of effort to make sure they had the edge in this fight. And well....it did sound pretty fucking awesome. Maybe it was going to be exactly the opposite, but well, he didn't really see any other choice for himself right now. Whoever this enemy was, the 33rd were coming for them now. And if Max had his place here, he was going to take it.

-----

Listening into the last bit, Max nodded as he stood, looking up at the briefing map once again with his arms by side. He looked up to Silverwind, then back at the others before he spoke.
"Count me in. Insertion sounds like it'll be intense for Isenor. It'll certainly be shock and awe for whoever we're visiting...if everything says there is an enemy there. You've got my eyes for whatever you need, Captain- us recon boys are a bit madder than most so I'm all ears. If you need me, send a ping on my Pebble...otherwise I think I'll go and set my bunk and equipment up." He said, looking to the others, the lion stern in his own easily-going way.

"Sorry guys. But till I find a coffee, I'm really going to...." Max started, the lion yawning loudly as he did, covering his gob as he tried that impossible thing of trying to not yawn while you're talking to people.
"....find it difficult to stay awake! I'll be over in the mess hall soon if you want to chat!" His comedic timing seemed to have a charm at times, but man, Max really wished it wasn't like that. Without any further ado and social awkwardness, WO Bastion left the briefing room to set himself up. If he hadn't and kept talking, he'd have probably passed out, he figured to himself. Lack of caffiene did that to him, he humoured internally to himself. 

----

With a sigh, Max headed out and into the corridor, looking for their sleeping quarters. The corvette was small, so it was a little more straightforward than other ships he'd been on. As such it made it easy to find, as he entered into his bunk, almost bonking his head on the doorframe. How the hell Fionn was going to get around this ship, Max did not know- as a lion he was having enough trouble as it was. Exhaling, he found his kit set up there already, already taking out some personal posessions and a few other things. Not a lot, but things he wanted to sort nonetheless. A locket of him and his siblings in a photo, as well as a small scrapbook of old squad photos and his personal life. Family, friends, the good tiems doing the lunacy he so loved. Memories he had, some of it felt like it was a world away from where he stood, right here.  His usual pilot's gear was also there, the armour mounted up on a rack on the bunk from toe to helmet neatly placed atop. His Warrant Officer's insignia on the arm, and surname looking back at Max on the upper left of the chest. It was all back to reality again, he reminded himself. Even the trusty smart goggles he used, when sniping was there, a better tool for him given he prefered wider target purchase than the pilot's lid allowed for. 

After setting up his own sea-bourne home from home, it was next stop, armoury. A simple place to go, as he didn't need to do a lot. The armourer could only nod as Max had headed in, finding the rack, that contained the rifle, pistol, and knife of his choice. That and the webbing that would attach to the torso of his suit, containing a variety of fragmentation and smoke grenades, alongside a couple of flares and IR beacons. His trusty PID was also there, the reconaissance monacle he called his laser designator, all-round observer and thermal imaging tool at range. That went alongside his drone, a tool stored commonly in his GEAR but also man-portable when he had to carry something extra on top of his pack. It paid to be ready for what was over the hill- and Max had seen his ass saved by it plenty of times. 

Checking his rifle over, Max pulled the bolt back, squaring it against his shoulder, tilting it. The M23 ISS might have started life for some of the recon boys as a bigger infantry rifle that just didn't have the poke as a deisgnated marksman rifle, but with an overpressure barrel and a modified heavy-hitting 6mm round, Max made this rifle work more than needed. Heavy recoil, but it gave him exactly what he wanted. After all, you didn't need to bring an Anti-Material rifle when what you needed was just a bit more reach with your small arm. A 30 round mag was in the well, different to the usual 10 a marksman would choose- after all, Max had done, and would use this thing as an assault rifle, at a right-hand 45 degree having a green-dotted holographic optic that gave him a little more versatlity. Close quarters was something best saved for his M8 anyawy, the tricked-out recon-spec pistol now equipped with a LEM, silencer and a competition-spec red dot optic. He was told they'd get him a select-fire version of one of these one day, but alas, Max wasn't holding his breath, checking the 18-round mag out. All content, the lion had kind of been in his own zone, sorting out his own stuff first before coming back to it. Now he REALLY needed coffee.

-------

Which came just in time, Max thought to himself as he poured it into his cup from the large tank in the mess hall, the hall quiet with a few sailors hanging around for what to them was a fairly late breakfast. Sipping down the brew, he exhaled, looking around for his team. He couldn't pick them out yet, so quickly swiped out his Pebble and sent across a simple ping on their connected net. It was going to be a long eight hours. There was more work to do on preparing their GEARs, and on the ocean voyage, no doubt personal roles within the team. He sat and waited, waiting to see who was going to pop over and join him for a dose of morning wake-up call.