The barracks common room is devoid of life this late unto the night. The faucet water rushing over the dishes creates a white noise as you clean your favorite mug from the day's drink. The creak of the door opening at your back caused you to tense automatically, but the familiar scent of tobacco and vanilla musk of the familiar alpha alerts you of Price's presence.

His footsteps are slow, closing the distance between you leisurely. You turn, dishrag still clutched in one hand, to find the alpha with an odd, considering look on his face.

"I've an... acknowledgment for you, Omega." He rumbles, removing a small box from his fatigues. Inside reveals a black collar, the distinctive emblem of Task Force 141 emblazoned across the front, and 141 on the back. "To protect that pretty neck of yours from any undue... advances."

The weight of the gesture strikes you; Only a mated alpha would give such a personal article, yet here is your Captain putting his creations on your collar for all to see. "Wouldn't want you claimed before your time, eh?"