[@Starlance]

Bethan nodded, agreeing with Yekatarina on that, they were certainly a grade above and not just some dumb mercs, they seemed to have something about them. Not just idiots with FALs marched in from South Africa or militants from Somalia running through with AKs, but Westerners who were here with purpose. 
"Well, you might be right on that one, we are a grade above. We're not gonna sit guarding posts, I feel like. And I guess 'round here, gems are king, people get greedy easy...let's just keep our heads on and find what we need. We'll find opportunities, out here, it feels more like being fast on your feet than a slave if you want to go places." Bethan remarked, hearing her next comment on skills, responding in turn as she put her hands on the table, looking across. It felt odd to go from pointing guns to this, but then again, that was Africa. It was wild, it was uncontrolled, and you had to just be fast on your feet. Bethan had to admit, she was more paranoid than she would have liked, but now she was beginning to get the lay of it, she was getting back what she knew.

"Well, I'm a trained Paramedic both from mountain and military experience, and I worked as a nurse for a bit. Did most of the SFSG training course too before breaking my leg in two places, so I know my way a little around marksman work too, and done Ironman for a bit so take what you want from why I don't fuck around. Thought I gave up killing people a while ago, but here we are." Bethan added confidently, Sean looking acros, chuckling when he gave another wick of the remaining whiskey in his glass that hadn't gone down with the shot.
"Well, throw me a light machine gun and I'm happy as larry, carried my section's FN MAG, resident heavy weapon specialist. Happy shooting the shit out of anything that looks like it moves. I did an introductory course to setting explosives and using anti-tank weaponry too, not that I actually got to do much of it in Afghan...beyond that, me and Bethan are Marines. Happy in any dinghy, and..." Sean added, cut off by Bethan before he could carry on, her annoyance getting clear.

"Yeah, well, right now we're in a boat without a fucking paddle. Pretty much, our Marines spend 10 weeks longer training than the Americans do at being soldiers on boats, and we've done it 100 years longer than them. So you can imagine we don't piss around at any aspect of it." Bethan interrupted, before looking across to Sean, who was also interested to hear their stories, sitting up and full well knowing their nationalities.

"And how about you both? Fought any bears? Fuckin' one of yas has, I bet." Sean asked, a wry smirk on his face, that classic Ulster charm coming through. They may not have been from the southern end of the island, but Irish people alike were always craic, and always up for taking the piss when the opportunity presented itself. He seemed more gregarious than blunt, but it definitely showed a more raw, disobedient streak compared to Bethan's professionalism and work-rate.