At Olivia's signal, the Colors and the additional hired guns gathered at the center of the canteen, forming a circle with her at its center. The mercenaries looked at her expectantly, while she scanned their faces.
Her dozen or so contractors were a cobbled together crew of thrill-seekers, budget hitmen, and killers for hire. Their services were inexpensive and their lives, while not expendable to Olivia, nonetheless of secondary importance. They would be the grunts sent into the meat grinder.
Blue. He was a grizzled veteran and charismatic leader, using his southern charm combined with his vagabond appearance to get his way most of the time. His skills both in the pilot's seat and with firearms were impressive, though he preferred to downplay either. Having him by her side for this mission was a blessing for, without him, there would be no mission.
Maroon. Olivia had never been too certain what to make of the man. His odd, aloof attitude had made building any kind of rapport with him difficult, though over the years they had come to hold each other in considerable regard. For a while, perhaps, there had even been a spark between them. But that was a memory for another time. The mercenary's slight build and liquid, cat-like movements made it hard to believe that he was the Colors' prime CQC expert, never having been bested by any of the others in a sparring match. His skills would be invaluable.
Amber. Olivia could feel the woman internally roll her eyes. Rivals was a good way to describe their past relationship with each other. Amber had never approved of, or perhaps simply not understood, Olivia's desire to remain apart from the rest of the company, taking it as a slight against both her and her comrades. Nonetheless, when it came down to having each other's backs in combat, they had never failed one another. While Amber was more of a pilot than a fighter, Olivia had seen her wield a sniper rifle with outstanding precision on more than one occasion. Regardless of their past grievances, she was happy to have her onboard.
Ocher, Cyan, and Violet. As always, they stood side by side, always keeping an eye out for one another. Ocher and Violet towered over Cyan, flanking her like oversized guard dogs, but Olivia knew that the smaller woman was perfectly capable of handling herself in a fight. Together, the three of them had cleared entire battle transports on their own, cutting, shooting, and punching their way from bow to aft like boiling water through ice. Only Maroon ever stood up to them and remained standing afterwards. Olivia wouldn't have to worry about them once the action kicked off.
Teal and Sage. The brothers looked like identical twins but were actually two years apart. The only immediate hint that they weren't clones were their eyes' different shades of green. Together, they made up the company's heavy weapons team, specialized in anything from anti-tank rockets, mortars, and the occasional piece of artillery to heavy machine guns, energy lances, and anti-materiel rifles.
Turquoise. The 'mother' of the company. She was the oldest of the Colors, though she had never actually admitted to her precise age. Olivia estimated her to be somewhere in her mid-fifties. Before joining the company, she had been a nurse in a New London hospital, then, when the war with Gallia broke out, she joined the Armed Forces' medical corps. During those years, she developed a strange taste for not just mending pain, but for causing it, too, which lead to her desertion and subsequent recruitment into the Colors. From then on, she had provided her services as a medic to the other mercenaries, both after battle and during combat. Olivia was certain that the woman's expertise would see plenty of use.
Finally, Beige. Olivia rolled her eyes as the man grinned at her. As far as she was concerned, he was a nutjob, if - admittedly - a competent one. He could handle himself as well in the cockpit as he could on the battlefield, relying more on his wit and unorthodox tactics than raw talent to best his opponents. During their tenure in the Omegas, Olivia and Beige had often been paired up on smaller jobs, much to Olivia's chagrin. At the time, she had believed that sooner or later, he would run out of tall tales, absurd anecdotes, and repulsive jokes to tell, but time and again she had been proved wrong. His indomitable humor always kept the stories coming and Olivia could tell that even now that hadn't changed. Still, she was better off having him on the team than not.
Olivia completed her inspection of the crew and returned to the center of the circle. It was time to explain the details of the mission.