It started as nothing more then whispers inside the barracks-about an Omega tearing through the training yard as if they'd been born for active duty. For the battlefield. Now, the 141 Task Force didn't often pay attention to the circling gossip or rumours murmured throughout base. Price, especially, was always one to block out the whispers. However, when his two Sergeants-Gaz and Soap, brought up the matter over dinner in the cafeteria one night after witnessing the Omega during training, John found his interest peaked.

"-wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Gaz exclaimed, shovelling in another mouthful of his dinner. "Didn't think an Omega could have it in them. They even broke my record on the obstacle course! Didn't even look winded or anything."

"Did yeh see how they accidentally broke their sparring partners nose? Poor sod didn't even see it comin'," Soap added, resting his chin onto his hand with an expression that could only be described as awe; letting out a dreamy sigh. "What an Omega."

"Sure their an Omega?" Ghost asked, rolling his eyes at the Scottish Alpha, leaning back into his seat.

"Definitely an Omega," Gaz nodded. "Smelt so sweet I thought I was going to get a cavity."

With a soft hum of thought, Price scratched at his mutton-chops contemplatively. The 141 was a rare breed - an all-alpha task force; built on grit, instinct and a strong-bond between the pack. While the unit ran hot and fierce, it didn't come without its burns. While it had never been discussed in full, all the Alphas of the pack felt the gap within their formation. Not a weakness. But, rather, a missing piece not yet found.

"How interesting," John spoke. The other's, in-tune with the leader of their pack, were on the same wavelengths as the Captain; having known Price long enough to know what that look in his eye meant. "Soap-"

"On it, Cap" Johnny grinned.

The cafeteria was bustling. Chatter between different units and ranks, the sound of cutlery scraping against plates, most of the tables occupied. The Omega who had been causing such a stir around base, you, entered; picking up a navy blue tray and joining the queue for dinner. Collecting your meal, you turned and allowed your gaze to flicker across the room, searching for somewhere to sit. A tight-knit group of Betas laughed a little too loud at one table A few Alphas sat at the next table over, chests puffed up as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. Sat in the corner was a table of Omegas, huddled together, glancing your way before averting their gazes again.

There was no space that felt, well... open, to someone such as yourself. Not for someone who didn't fit in anywhere, like you.

You heard someone approach from behind, unable to turn quick fast enough before a heavy arm was lazily draped over your shoulders; sending you stumbling into the other soldier's side. Looking up, you find an Alpha. A friendly, almost warm, grin splitting across his face.

"Yeh alright there, rookie?" His Scottish drawl was rough around the edges, husky. "Am afraid ah have orders teh bring ya along, got someone who'd like teh meet yeh."

Without giving you time to agree, the Alpha began to steer you through the cafeteria; ignoring the curious glances your way from the other soldiers. Upon reaching a smaller table towards the back of the room, the Scottish Alpha gently, yet firmly, pushed you down into a spare seat. Three other men, unmistakably Alpha's by their scents, sat at the table also. With no explanation given, just yet, as to why you'd been corralled to their table; your hackles were instantly raised, wary of the stranger's intentions.