Jacob Lockhart moved disheartedly down a small corridor at Recovery Command. The mute had just been informed he was being transferred from the medical district to the field, the medic of a six man recovery squad. It was both angering and depressing. He was used to just looking people over, fixing them, then accepting the next patient. He was meant for field work.
Lockhart stopped at his room door, typing in the lock code. He scratched the back of his head while the door slid open. He sat on his bed, untying his boots. He hadn't even heard of the team before, let alone the members. Their files varied with personalities and abilities, and it seemed unlikely one would get hurt on that team. Not one file even said that one understood sign language. Jake feigned a sign and pulled off his shirt before lying on his side. He needed to rest, then think later.
Lockhart looked down at his hands, admiring the armor the techs had outfitted him with. It felt as light as a feather, but could stop six shotgun blasts to anywhere. The techs had outdone themselves. The armor had taken on the appearance of the Mk.VI armor issued to many freelancers and some simulation troopers, but was given a unique "Recovery" helmet. He slid it into place, locking the clasps tightly.
The HUD slowly booted up. The top showed his life signs beneath an "armor bar". The lower right hand corner flashed "no weapon". The left hand side held a motion tracker. Surprisingly, the helmet held a unique ability. Whenver Lockhart pointed the helmet at someone, it showed basic life signs and ailments. Specifically built in? He owed the techies.
"Lockhart, report to the briefing room. Your team has arrived." Jake wasn't used to someone speaking right in his ear. It rung for a minute, his face in a wince, before it faded. He needed to find the volume control on the thing. He waved thanks to the technicians and jogged out the door. Adrenaline reserves, really useful.
He stopped in the hall of the briefing room, wanting to look professional and deserved to be on the team. Not some rookie who thought he was going to be late to a training mission. Still, the armor was quite loud, echoing across the walls, so it probably didn't matter.
As soon as he entered the briefing room, Jacob felt everyone's eyes on him. Two men stood at the head of the room, standing side by side. The Head of Recovery stood calmly, arms crossed behind his back with an approving smile on his face. The other stood in similar armor to Lockhart, with a red trim instead of blue. He didn't know what his expression was, but the stance he stood was apprehensive.
Three other men stood/sat, scattered across the room. The closest one was wearing a vastly different set of armor: a modified EVA helmet, a chest piece with a combat knife attached, and two uniquely buckled shoulder pads. It was colored blood red with dark steel. The helmet sat on the table, and the man smiled at the newcomer. He approached and held out his hand.
"I'm Tristan Nest, nice to meet you." Nest's smile seemed to grow, but faltered a little when Lockhart just shook.
"Something wrong?" Nest questioned. Lockhart feigned another sigh, but, despite the obnoxious side of his brain telling him not to, he signed the words "I cannot speak. I was born mute." Another thing that surprised him was the fact that Nest raised an eyebrow.
"Oh...that's terrible." Nest muttered. Lockhart's eyes widened. Nest understood him, he knew sign language. Lockhart quickly signed "thank god, you can understand me! You have no idea how hard it is to find someone who can understand you!" Nest's grin gave Lockhart a sense of confidence.
"Nest, quit hoggin' the new guy. Send him around!" Another agent said. This agent looked similar to the regular armor given to him and Orion, the guy at the head of the room, but held a unique chest piece which jutted out and held a small rack of grenades. Lockhart wearily stepped away from his recently new friend and closed in to the apparent demoman.
"Nice to meet you," the demoman said, shaking Lockhart's hand, "I'm James Norton, the teams demoman." Knowing Nest was watching, Lockhart signed his name to Norton. He tilted his head to the side.
"He say's his name's Jacob Lockhart." Nest spoke up. Norton nodded slowly, then sat on the table, pulling out a grenade and fiddling with it. Lockhart stood beside him for a moment before walking over to the other trooper. The trooper muttered quickly "Nathan Tucker" and then "shooed" him on. Jake shook his head and made his way up to the Head and Team Leader.
"Jacob Lockhart," Orion said, "Michael Orion, team leader. I hear you're a medic. Do you know why you're getting assigned to the team?" Lockhart shook his head, and the Head spoke up.
"This is a special Recovery team, Agent. We've monitered your progress through our Agency and we believe, with complete confidence, that the team will benefit greatly from your presence." The head paused as Lockhart digested the information. "Should you have any objections or not want to join, we'll understand. What's your decision?"
Lockhart looked down and then back up. Last night, thoughts seemed clouded, confused, angry. Now, he could leave the cozy confines of the office and medical ward, see worlds, make friends. It seemed so obvious now. Lockhart nodded. Orion's posture took on a similar approving one to the Head's approving smile.
"We knew you would."
The team slowly gathered around a projection table, accepting the new body amongst them. A holographic image appeared in between them, an image of a building.
"Now," The head continued, "let's get started."
(Note: Seeing as how "Dwayne Johnson" does not have a page yet and as such I have no information attaining to him, I have omitted him from the story on the basis that he did not join the team yet. I hope you understand Dempsey.)