“To start off, Well, most of you already know each other, but we’ve got a few new faces, so why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves. I’ll start,” Sergeant Major Gabriel, a tired man with many scars, stood up and said, “Chris Gabriel, I’ll be your Sergeant Major.”
Being the First Squad leader, Evans went next, “Jim Evans. First Squad Leader. Finally escaped Officer Country.”
There were a few laughs. Evans’ Marksman went next. She was a slender woman who carried herself with a sense of pride. Her uniform was meticulously cleaned. She even spoke with an accent unbecoming of her rank, “Corporal Emily Johnson. I am most pleased to be returning to the front as Mister Evans’ personal hunter.”
Tiscornia went next, “Dom Tiscornia. Rifle Leader for Sergeant Evans.”
Second squad was next. Turner was the Sergeant. Still a beautiful woman even with her dirty face and uniform, “Kelly Turner. Second Squad Leader.”
After that was Kempe, a shorter woman with reading glasses, “Vivien Kempe. Rifle Leader for Second Squad.”
Delage followed. He had matured since Evans remembered him. The handsome man introduced himself with a smirk, “Victor Delage. I shoot bullets fast with my machine gun.”
Next was the perpetually smiling Canina, “Alida Canina. Sergeant of 3rd Squad. Yes I know my name is hilarious, but it was a gift from my husband so I can’t return it.”
The next Corporal Evans almost didn’t recognize. She had been so peppy when he was in the platoon. But after many battles and several wounds, she seemed… darker, “Rachel Hunt. Rifle Lead for Sergeant Canina. And I intend to kill every last Vledscan I set my eyes on.”
The next was a short man Evans didn’t recognize, “Too follow that cheeriness, I’m Paul Fitzsimmons. Rifle Grenadier.”
The next was Sergeant Hardin. Evans’ first Corporal, but had been out with wounds for a few months, “Max Hardin. Fourth Squad. Glad to be back in the show.”
Next was a tall, black haired Ligurian woman with an ugly scar across her face. She smiled, “Sara Totti. I am the Rifle Leader for Sergeant Hardin. Do not mind the scar. I am a very happy person.”
And finally, a happy looking man, tapping the table with his four fingered left hand, “Rog Baldwin. Rifle Grenadier. How I lost my left pinky even.”
Sergeant Major Gabriel smiled, “Now that we’re all acquainted, time to get to the meeting. We’ll have dinner afterwards if you all want to catch up.”