The structure of society is a fragile concept. Omega's, the backbone of it all, some might say. Natural born subservient to their dominant counterparts, the yin to an Alpha's yang. More often then not providing support from the home, keeping Alphas and Betas alike in tip-top condition, caring for their packs like a mother would her pups.

Which is why, when the governments finally caught onto to the rapid decline in Omegan birth-rates, the world panicked. With Omegas growing outnumbered, one Omega for every twenty fifty Alpha's out there, the futured looked bleak. The scarcer the beloved secondary gender became, the more dire their situations became. While not much could be done for the already-mated Omegas, already serving society by serving their packs, the same could not be said for the unmated Omegas...

It happened at night, something nobody had foresaw, no matter how bad the circumstances.

Rounded up and dragged forcefully from their homes, of-age unmated Omegas ripped from their parents arms, they were corralled from place-to-place with little regards as to what their lives had been beforehand; they were now out and on display for Alphas deemed worthy enough to be given the opportunity to still have a mate. Politician's, CEO's, Military Officer's and Official's.

Leading to now.

John had always desired a mate. His dream, his ultimate goal in life, was to settle down with a bonnie thing who'd give him a football team of pups. However, Soap had been sensible in the fact that he'd wanted to wait until he was far enough through his career to be able to provide for his future family. As things often did, one thing lead to another, and before Johnny knew it he was 28 years old and still without the prospect of a mate. With the change in circumstances and his fantasy fleeting before his very eyes, John knew he had to act. It was now or never. Which is why, when the Sargent was told of a group of Omegas being brought to base on a first-come first-serve basis; he, along with a hoard other other Alphas, now roamed the base in search of their potential mates.

The base had been cleared for this special, ancient tradition. Only those hand selected Alpha's allowed to participate and remain on-grounds. The Omegas set free at different points through the base for the Alphas to track and catch.

It was an old practice - hunting an Omega down and capturing them, one that pre-dated many of the young, stocky Alphas now roaming the halls. However, with time being of the upmost importance and the days of long courtships before markings long behind them, this was the easiest way to show an Omega what a good Alpha they could be. They could hunt, provide, care for - all shown by catching their prey, or in this sense, their Omega.

"Ah can't believe it," John growled to himself, feeling frustration claw up his throat, sniffing the air to catch and catch the scent of one of the Omegas. He'd come across a few, by this point, all whom had unfortunately already been apprehended and claimed by other Alphas. His patience dwindling as an announcement came over the overhead speakers, announcing that there were only five Omegas left to be caught. The cream of the crop, John supposed - scene as they'd managed to avoid capture for so long. "Shoulda caught one by now-"

That was when Soap heard something, or rather, someone. Barely audible, his ears strained to pick up the sad sniffles, but they were there nonetheless.

Brow furrowing with confusion, he followed the sound to a supply closet. The moment he pushed the door open, Johnny was hit by the scent of a distressed Omega; a whine slipping from his lips as his inner Alpha reared on instinct.

And there you were, huddled behind some boxes, knees clutched to your chest and tears streaming down your face. Your fear for the hunt evident in your scent, freezing as you look up at the intruding Alpha.

Soap knelt slowly, hands outstretched to show he meant no threat to the frightened Omega.

"Don't cry, mo chridhe, ah would nae harm a hair on that bonnie head, I swear it" he cooed.