She shuffled along with everyone else once the one sided introduction had been dealt out. Most everyone kept silent. Either too tired to bother with a greeting in turn, or otherwise preoccupied with their own internal musings.

If any among their number were caught up in wondering what the Hell they were all doing there, no one had to wait long for an answer. The Captain led them aboard in short order, forcing them to fall into step behind him. She was quickly ushered below deck with everyone else to drop off their personal effects before being unceremoniously crammed into a briefing room with everyone else.

Comfort wasn't the priority,  but at least they gave her a chance to sit for the duration. That had to count for something.

Vonys had never beheld General Vresco in person before. She'd seen his image before, either in a newspaper or on a screen, but never had she had the privilege of sharing a room with him. Oh, she'd heard more than one tale about the man. Though whether any of them held a modicum of truth remained to be seen. They ranged from things held as common knowledge, if embellished, to tales so wild they went far beyond disbelief.

She had no intention of asking the man himself if any of them were true, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of everyone mere moments after being introduced. But Vonys couldn't help but entertain the idea that maybe General Vresco DID lose his eye while fending off a squadron of armed assailants with nary but a pair of wooden chopsticks at an unnamed hole in the wall eatery.

One could dream.

That particular brand of foolish musing would have to take a back seat to what lay in front of her.

None of it was good, of course. You didn't just gather a small group of specialists for clandestine meetings on strange boats unless it was for less than savory reasons. The specific nature of their task wasn't surprising to Vonys. But their supposed quarry was.

[i]'The Silent Line?'[/i] She thought, the gears slowly turning in her head as the General laid bare what little intel they had. It made little sense. About as much as a ghost being charged with armed robbery. But that ever skeptical part of the woman's brain conceded that yes, it made a hell of a lot of sense.

People played by the rules. Even the ones that claimed they didn't, followed at the core a basic set of tenants. Exhibiting the same behaviors and habits across the board, even despite differences in language, culture and beliefs. Anyone that took the time out of their day to blow up buildings, murder people and then kidnap the survivors probably wanted something. It'd start with the crimes, the deaths, the chaos and then eventually someone would step forward to air their grievances with the rest of the world.

A tale as old as time. Or at the least, as old as War.

But there had been no demands of any sort. Generally, Vonys would have chalked such an anomaly up to the perpetrators leaving some clue to illuminate why they disregarded law and order. But as far as she could recall, or tell there'd been nothing of the sort. No calling cards, no cryptic messages. No one hacking internal servers and forcing them all to watch a poorly framed video. At least one person should have been posing over a dead body on social media.

Not a sound. Not a ripple on the surface. They were indeed dealing with ghosts.

Vonys understood people. It came with the job. And it was helpful to know how someone would react to having a dislocated shoulder shoved back into its socket. Not well most of the time. But the Ibex, for all her worldly knowledge, didn't know how to deal with ghosts. Especially the murderous kind.

She leaned further back in her chair, a hand coming up to stroke sagely at her beard as she eyed the intelligence projected just behind the General's shoulder.

[i]'Had the goal even been pure Anarchy, there'd be a consistent pattern of behavior. I'm not seeing anything here.'[/i] She thought balefully, an ear flicking in mild irritation as she considered what she might be missing.

[i]'I really am a Ghost Hunter now, huh?'[/i]

The prospect of leaving barely crossed the woman's mind. Being trailed for the rest of her life notwithstanding, the Ibex could freely admit to her curiosity being piqued. And naturally, she didn't see herself getting an opportunity like the one set before her again. She certainly wasn't one to take the kind of moral high ground that she'd go so far as to disparage what was being offered in that cramped room. If you wanted to get one over on a bastard, that meant acting like one.

Vonys sighed gently and rubbed at her muzzle. [i]'I'll be living here for a while then. It's not ideal, but the hell am I going to do about it?'[/i] The Ibex could swim, fairly decently in fact. But she wasn't the seafaring sort. Months aboard a sea bound vessel wasn't the manner of living situation she was accustomed to, but that would obviously change very soon.

She propped her chin in one hand and eyed the Captain of their little rag-tag team with pointed interest. The Ibex's nostrils flared as she chuffed in mild amusement. "Well, if you're inclined to offer your best, it be in poor form if I didn't do the same. I can't have any of you dying before your appointed time."

The mention of the best gear available definitely caught the woman's interest. Vony's was uncomfortably familiar with working with less than what should have been acceptable for a medic. Either through lack of funding, the warren of Military bureaucracy, or run-of-the-mill incompetence, she'd seen it all. She did all that she could to make it work, sometimes pulling a miracle out of thin air. Though she'd be more apt to say that she just pulled a solution from her ass. Being in a position where she didn't have to stress over inventory on any given day was tantamount to a vacation in her book.

"Well then, if that's all there is too it I should take my leave too. Before I do anything else, I want to get a look at the infirmary, get my bearings and all that. But a coffee sounds nice, and I'll gladly take you up on it at a later time." She nodded curtly at Max before snapping a quick salute at the Captains timely dismissal.

The confines of the ship weren't at all spacious, but it's small size made short work of traveling from one end to the other. After a quick stop to toss set her personal effects in her bunk to be unpacked later, Vonys set off in the direction she presumed the ship's infirmary to be. She clopped down the hall as quickly as she could, squeezing past other passengers, and ducking where pipes grazed a little too close to her horns.

The infirmary wasn't as large as she'd have liked, but it was big enough. It was well stocked too, and Vonys wasted no time in taking mental stock of her surroundings and all therein. Not a single square inch was spared from her stern gaze. It wasn't enough to know where every piece of equipment was, the Ibex would need a good idea of how she was supposed to move around the area, a task that became even more difficult when the addition of patients into the space was taken into consideration.

She opened draws, opened cupboards. She tested some of the equipment herself, ensuring that everything was calibrated and in good working order. Their inventory was well stocked, and she wouldn't be hurting for anything for a good long while, something that drew a small bleat of happiness from the otherwise serious Ibex.

Vonys was in the midst of rearranging some more commonly used equipment to her liking, all to avoid having to search for it. It took four minutes to bleed to death and Vonys didn't want to spend five rummaging around for whatever she needed to staunch the flow. Her Pebble pinged insistently, demanding her attention like a petulant child and had the woman not just left a briefing prior she'd have tossed the offending device aside.

Tapping at the screen revealed a message for all members of their odd little team, and she suddenly remembered that she'd agreed to at least meet Max for coffee. The scruffy Lion was certainly easygoing, but his words and mannerisms belied the sort of confidence that came from years of service. Unkempt mane aside, the man was a professional at heart even if perpetual slouch broadcasted otherwise.

She clopped her way back into the narrow halls and beelined for the Mess Hall. Besides meeting her squad mates officially, Vonys figured she may as well ask them about any medical conditions they might have. Their files would undoubtedly have them laid out neatly. But the terminology was ironically, too clinical for her liking. Face to face, she'd be able to get a better understanding of their needs and how they'd effect their day-to-day lives.

Breakfast was over, and there wasn't much to see in the Mess Hall save for a few stragglers. The coffee they served wasn't much to write home about, but it would have to do. Vonys was suddenly stuck by a pang of longing then, wishing that her friend Allister was there to brew her something more deserving of her taste buds. The foppish Stag was a handful on the best of days, but he was the King of Tea Ceremony.

Despairing over the Hall's clear lack of aromatic beverages, Vonys took a seat just across the table from Max and offered him a short nod by way of greeting.

"Feeling a little more lively? The coffee is shit, but at least it works." She groused, only lightly.