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"Patrick Petrachkov," Petrachkov introduced himself, holding out a gloved-and-armored hand to shake Borovik's. "Another relatively native Russian on the team. Good to meet you." Patrick eyed him up and down; a Psion was certainly not new to him, but he hadn't spent much time interacting with them - mostly he worked with other Shadowmen, when it came right down to it. The record hadn't said a damn thing about what he was capable of, which seemed extremely unusual. Most people had something in there about what they were capable of, but perhaps he'd explain.

"If we were gonna start ignoring orders, we'd still be in the drydock getting the Dutchman and our stolen shuttle in top shape," their captain replied. It wasn't quite an answer. "He'll be useful to us either way. If there's an expert in a skill we need pretty much anywhere on the continent, we have an expert in that skill right here. At least for as long as he can keep his psionics going." Still not an answer.

Catalena delicatedly took the proffered hand, smiling and nodding her head as she introduced herself. "A pleasure to meet a new member of our team, especially a fellow Psion." She ignored the comments from Grayson. "My name is Catalena. I will appreciate your company aboard." A very slight change in the curvature of her facial features created the possibility of there being something more behind those words than a platonic greeting.

Blackstone's non-answers did not go bye Catalena's ears unheard. She had read about Borovik's skill and was very much impressed; he would be good to have on her side. On a leash. Sitting on command.

She unclasped hands with a genuine smile and began bringing him up-to-date on their mission.

"Oh, Blackstone, sir," Petrachkov said suddenly, turning to Blackstone. "We had a few problems on the last mission, and I have a few suggestions for the next one that might help us work a little more efficiently. First off, there was no clear command structure. We walked into that mission workin' like a squad democracy, which is just asking for failure, and we only lucked out last time. The only time we might've needed immediate orders, it was over too fast for it to have made a difference anyway. So we need somebody - a competent leader," Petrachkov added, glancing at Pullman, "to be a squad leader. I'm not recommending myself for the position, but it needs to happen.

"Second of all, we need a way of identifying each other. I imagine I'm going to be going in ghillie-suited, and when I run into them it'll be sneaking up. What if someone catches them and swaps them out? What if someone catches me and swaps in an enemy agent? I suggest a countersign of some variety. Something that ideally won't get tortured out of any of us."

Petrachkov decided it was wise not to voice his opinion about the non-close structure of Glorious, which would've consisted mainly of profanity anyway. He instead decided that, well, his commanding officer had told him that he was just there to give them a ride. Petrachkov had absolute freedom from there on out. Well, assuming the others agreed. They wouldn't, of course, agree to electing a single commanding officer, and indeed Petrachkov was surprised that Pullman hadn't made some sort of sneering joke about 'little baby needs mommy' or something to the effect. Eh, it would be coming soon enough.

The countersign, however, was a legitimate concern. Petrachkov had only one way to see through a light-spell, and that was getting close enough that his REF would effect them, which was a stupendously stupid idea. Torture could happen, but it would take longer for one of the others to break than it would take for Petrachkov to decide to bug out. It would be effective, simple, and reliable.

"Well. Command structure being defined for me, I'd like to recommend this countersign to you," Petrachkov said. "When we arrive on site, we'll look at a map, designate a Point of Interest as a meeting place, and we'll get together there. I'll try to get there first. We'll do the counter-sign there, and then move to our destination.

"I assume all present know what a counter-sign is, and for the sake of simplicity, we'll just go with 'Moscow, Leningrad'. Sound good?"

Petrachkov shrugged. "If you don't like the countersign, I could just shoot you all when we meet back up. I'm alright with that idea." Patience, Petrachkov, he told himself. Pullman was certainly predictable, and it was still Petrachkov's job to get himself (and Pullman, and the rest) in and out alive.

"And I am not saying you're incompetent, certainly not as a fighter. I'm sure you would like to see me dead, though, and so I'd just as soon not put you at the head of my squad." Patience, Petrachkov. When they were off-duty, that would be an okay time to punch him in the face.

"And one more thing. The chaff was a majority decision. You want that sorta thing to not happen again? Help me pick a leader."

Borovik watched gently as the interactions escalated, getting a feel and more observing his new partners. Petrachkov seemed somewhat disciplined, level-headed, at least. He wasn't quite sure about Catalena, she was a little difficult to read. Seemed nice, but he concluded to be careful around her until he knew more. Grayson seemed somewhat distant, definitely didn't like Borovik much, but both of them could live with that for the time being, but mutual respect would be of the essence. Being a Ghoster, he might be a little more difficult to figure out. Pullman seemed distant. And a little outspoken as well and perhaps a little hot-headed. Not someone Borovik particularly cared for. He would have to be watched.

"I almost agree." he spoke up when the subject of electing a leader came up, "I know none of you well enough to make a thorough judgment, but based off first impressions, I think Petrachkov would do well in a leadership position. Though Catalena might do well, also."