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((Kilathean, please try to clean up your posts. Spell check your posts before you actually submit them. Also, if you would read the description of the REACH dockyard, it is certainly not small enough to be considered a room...))

Sergeant Danes nodded as a private strode by, but otherwise paid him no mind. Any members of his squad knew that he was on the lookout for them, and that he would be near the cruiser's boarding ramp. Shortly thereafter, Arturo returned. "Two-hundred forty-five seconds... I'd say you did well, Corporal." Not to mention, he did a good job with his manners now. Starting and ending a sentence with sir was an old formality, but a very good one to execute if one wished to show deep respect or suck up. Danes didn't think Arturo to be a suck-up, so he took the mannerism as a deep-founded respect.

A tall, Hispanic figure of a man walked boredly, his long, somewhat gangly legs covering a good amount of space every time either one made a move ahead of the other. He spun a pencil between his fingers, making it look as though each movement was just a part of a seemless, fluid motion. His kind but calculating eyes scanned to no where in particular as his mind wandered, his legs knowing where to go: the boarding ramp leading to the soon-to-depart Cruiser that would, inevitably, take them to War. The Hispanic's train of thought was cut short as he spotted his Gunnery Sergeant, making his way through the throng of people to where the group was.

Uh-huh... just where I was told to meet. Nice.

"Hola. Gunnery Sergeant Gregory Danes, is this you, Sir?" Jorge asked, wanting to make sure that he was in the right place, with the right squad, before he introduced himself to the wrong person, thus making a fool of himself.

Jorge gave a small, but relieved grin at Mercy as he relaxed himself a little bit. At least he got the right group, though he probably should've been faster to get there. After all, it was less than two hours now until they all experienced the trip of war.
"Refresque, yo lo conseguí en la primera prueba.. Si, I am the new Tech, miss Lance Corporal Davis. I'm Lance Corporal Jorge Aguilar." He responded in his mild Hispanic accent happily. The reason being to why he was unflappably chipper at the moment? The brink of their first Wartime encounter.

Arturo looked at Mercy with a curious look. so i'll be working with her huh? he asked himself as he inspected her from head to toe. "hey mercy!" he said in a higher voice. "how do you feel about going to war?" he asked as he looked into her eyes trying to see if he could see her response in her eyes.

"Si, senorita Corporal. And I am ready to beat some rameras into the soil with bullets and boot stamps! How about you?" jorge asked, his excitement barely contined as he waited with hot blood running through his veins. Today was the day they rode to war, guns in hand and checklists of asses to kick!

"Whats to get used to?" Isaac said from his spot, slightly away from the group," I don't think it's actually possible to get used to, this isn't a game you know?" Isaac stretched out his arms a bit but stayed in place. He looked over at Jorge and nodded his acknowledgment of the man," I'm Corporal Isaac Whitman, Heavy Weapons Specialist." Isaac walked to the man and held out his hand.

"Yeah well but the idea of killing could get to you." She said as she rubed her neck. "Thats the thing i need to get use to." She said as she frowned a little.