Anfall | Female | Amstaff/Plott hound/wolf | Bravo Wolfblood | 21 | M: Adiv, Sabre

She stared at the Westie. His innocence was almost difficult to wrap her head around. She inclined her own cranium, considering his words. "Believe it or not, the kibble is actually pretty nutritious. Enough to keep us in good enough health for the amount of work we do. Beta doesn't waste a good dog by their own mistake with food. Everything is on their terms, including our life and death."

She released a humourless chuckle, spiteful, almost. "Nothing here is right. Not Beta, but you best follow them anyway."

Sabre spoke next, of fear. Anfall, despite all, was an open minded dog, but not about this subject - her own greatest weakness. She hated the very thought of being weak, of being afraid. She didn't answer at first, only with an irritated huff. "I'll decide what I fear," she snapped, but the response wasn't personal. It never was.

Oh, introductions. Funny how it took us so long to get around to that.

"The call us by numbers because they want to. They do whatever they want. I'm Anfall, by the way, and if you couldn't tell, I really don't care about first impressions." Straightforward, and brutally honest, as always.

Orden | Female | Bravo Border Collie/Majorica Shepherd | 22 | M: Rache, Frosch, Pfiel

Did he ever shut up? Orden had never heard such a lengthy string of words - well, since she was a pup. Maybe, anyway. It was a stretch. Orden was a quieter canine, not one for aimless conversation. But that seemed exactly what this dog was interested in. Not only that, but he seemed completely at ease to the point of nearly being happy. Happiness was a foreign concept to Foxtrot and Bravo dogs. She just wanted to be alone right now, with her mind. But she could keep up with his questions, if need be. It wasn't like she'd enjoy the process of answering, though.

Orden regarded him coldly. He must be a fool. What sort of brain-dead idiot rambled on about clearly sensitive topics to dogs that didn't seem interested in conversation? Not only that, but he seemed either completely blind to his own ignorance, or was completely willing to display his extent of lack of knowledge. Such action revealed weakness to be taken advantage of, in Orden's mind. Lucky for him, she wasn't the type to manipulate him. She had not motivation, nor did she have any interest in such cruelty.

She felt she ought to help the niave, lost soul while she could. Maybe her words could prolong his life, if only for a few more hours until Rache inevitably ripped out his throat.

"We live with order and discipline. We do not speak unless spoken to, and there is aboslutely no conversation towards Culls. Removal is preformed as often as Beta sees fit - which means failure is looked down upon, as it could easily be your end. We lost two, maybe three dogs today. That's why you're here, yes."

The dog frowned, expression gaurded and rather pained, as though she had a headache. The sighthound spoke of Pfiel. The throbbing in her head seemed to wrosen.

"Yes, I knew him. Pfiel. Good dog, one of our best. The death of one of our regiment members really broke him down."

She didn't want to think about it. Nor did she want him to bother Rache. She had enough going on.

"Leave it be, Eighty-Eight. Don't bother her," she murmurred, flicking her dark gaze to the Charlie soldier, curled in the corner.

Commander Hoffen of Foxtrot | #34 | Male | Alledged Schnauzer/Wolf cross | M: Kämpe, Hero

As soon as his face was revealed by the crimson light, Hoffen knew who it was that had spoken.

The Kilo mutt that had attacked him? There was no way. He was lying, he must have been. Yet Hoffen said nothing.

His expressive gaze had hardened in an instant, and he was by Kampe's side. That dog had no fear. He had never, ever, seen a dog attack a Cull first, let alone so boldly.

That was how dogs got themselves killed. There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and this dog had crossed it. Hoffen nodded to Kampe, muscles tensed. If there was to be an attack on Beta, Hoffen was unsure of where his loyalties would lie. Or maybe he did. He was a machine of Beta, a tool. A coward. He would always side with the winning team.

Or would he?

A fresh wave of pain throbbed through his skull before he forced himself to focus, the cold edge of his programming overtaking his mind. These dogs were foolish, yes, but there was no way a former Cull would approve such a bold attack. This dog-or dogs-had to be acting on their own accord.

After the Chief spoke, Hoffen glared into the inky blackness of the night. Something rustled, and his hackles rose.

Zadolt. Fool.

Hoffen's muzzle curled, and he strode up to the Aussie mix, looming over the dog. A low, mechanical growl-something akin to the bastard child of dog and backfiring car-rumbled in his throat. "You're not in the position to make demands, are you?"

Through the haze of the programming that had overtaken him, he could barely form a coherent thought. Twenty-Eight, the traitor, had addressed Hoffen by his given name? He had addressed Kampe by her given name?

Zadolt | Male | Australian/German Shepherd mix | Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: Hero(indirectly), Kordelas(indirectly), Kampe(indirectly), Hoffen

He only lifted an eyebrow when Hoffen growled at him, not showing how unsettled it made him. Hoffen was trying to be intimidating, and he was succeeding. Zadolt wouldn’t let him know it, though. He showed no outward signs of being ill at ease, no signs of fear or weakness. He may not have known to act in Kilo, but he was from Beta. This was his home turf, not just Hoffen’s and Kampe’s, and he knew the rules: Kill or be killed. Oddly, it made him more at ease.

“But how do you know that? For all you know, I have the entirety of Kilo waiting to strike. Maybe I have the upper hand. Maybe you do. Who truly knows?” He answered Hoffen. He only spared his former commander a glance, giving off the illusion of indifference to Hoffen being so close. In reality, he had an eye on Hoffen, and an eye on Kampe. He couldn’t afford to not watch either of them.

“Or maybe none of us have the upper hand. Maybe this is all part of Beta’s game, a test to see if you are still worthy to be a cull. Maybe I'm not really here. Maybe we’re all just pawns in a never ending cycle of Beta and Kilo. How would you know? you're just Beta's pawn.” He continued speaking. He knew the culls had something to make them detect lies, so he opted to answer their questions with more questions. It was better to confuse them then to answer their questions outright, because as long as he didn’t give them answers, Hero’s life would be prolonged. Zadolt's life wasn't the one that depended on Kampe's reaction to his words, so he ignored any thoughts about his own life. He'd rather Hero and Kordelas live, and he die, rather then Hero die, and he and Kordelas live.

Kämpe | Female | Chief Cull (GSD Kangal cross) | 24 | M: Hoffen, Hero, Zadolt, Kordelas

Friend.

He really was a failure, wasn't he? Beta dogs didn't make friends. Though perhaps inadvertantly, he had confirmed his attatchement to this dog, subsequently confirming the weakness Kämpe had assumed was there all along. There was no denying now that this dog was leverage.

There was a second point, something that made her metal core grow colder with the inherent wrongness of it. She wasn't upset. Not a twist in her expression conveyed any sort of emotion - she simply didn't feel it. No, it was the simple knowledge of the incorrect way of his language that set off her programming. He dared call her by her birthname. She was Chief Commander Twenty-Four, and no one else.

Commander Thirty-Four stepped forward, adressing the immediate threat, as he should. Questions rolled fluently off Twenty-Eights down, in an effort to buy time. That could only mean he didn't have a plan, nor did he have back up, or else they would be moving into an agressive position.S he could not sense movement. Not only did his stalling give him away, but his logic made little sense. Although Kilo dogs may not be as sharp as Beta dogs, not as well trained, Kämpe was certain they weren't foolish enough to leap right back into battle, with the full brunt of their force behind them.

There was truth to his words. Beta always had the upper hand, over everyone, including the Culls. She wouldn't put a cruel sort of test as such past them, but she was certain they wouldn't do it in such a manner. They certainly wouldn't have a holograph suggest he was a holograph.

"Do you have a tendency to speak to yourself, Twenty-Eight?" She inquired, ignoring everything he had said. She knew the answer, and she knew that the sound of voices obviously signified more than one canine. But she wanted to unsettle him, to put him under pressure and see how he would react. The Cull's lip pulled into a snarl.

Zadolt | Male | Australian/German Shepherd mix | Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: Hero, Kordelas, Kampe

“When I am panicked, I probably do still talk to myself. It was a habit I thought I had gotten rid of. Clearly, I was wrong.” He said, his voice having a faint hint of amusement. It was true; sometimes he was unsure if he was saying things out loud, or in his head when he was panicked. He had managed to stop it long ago. But these culls didn’t know that, so he could work his old habit to his advantage.

So his answer wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. He kept his gaze on Kampe, ignoring Hero and Hoffen for the moment. “And by the way, my name,” He put emphasis on the word, “is Zadolt. You know that. And since I no longer ally myself with Beta, would you stop calling me by that infernal number?” He half snarled the word number, his ears pinning down in response to his anger. He also matched her snarl with one of his own, and went into a battle position without concious thought.

Kämpe | Female | Chief Cull (GSD Kangal cross) | 24 | M: Hoffen, Hero, Zadolt, Kordelas

Kämpe's blood red eyes didn't shift, didn't flicker. One could almost wish for those cruel, cunning blue optics over the haunting threat of crimson. He had reacted well, and had effectively been able to evade the judging of her lie detecting technology. But he didn't answer in a manner that would have revealed another dog, so the Chief still believed another canine to be waiting, lurking.

"I will address you as your rank demends, even if you are not worthy of even a number, Twenty-Eight," she snarled, expresion cold. She didn't care about his name. He was just another rebel to be disposed of, a thorn in Beta's side. And also her brother, but Kämpe searched, and found nothing in the depths of her metal core. No emotion, no pity, nothing. Just the peaceful apathy of her programming.

But she could not seem to overcome the memories of him, not of Twenty-Eight, but of Zadolt. And it was those memories that began to tear Kämpe apart from within, waging a war with her programming. Try as she might, she could not shove away these memories, these bubbling emotions, so she simply ignored.

"Is that so, Twenty-Eight?" The title bothered him, and this irritation only made the cull more inclined to use it.

"Either way, all present canines will step forward, or I will tear out both Hero's throat, and Twenty-Eight's."

She cast her red eyes into the darkness Zadolt had emerged from, guessing at the relative location of the other dog. She hoped her eyes would catch the gaze of this Kilo creature, and he would know the fear he or she should feel.

Adiv

Male | West Highland Terrier | Hotel/Bravo | 86 | Mentions: Sabre, Anfall

The little dog perked his ears at the words of the wolf dogs. They seemed nice. He tilted his head in confusion as they mentioned becoming a machine and something called being removed. He had never heard of such a thing.

"I don't like kibble. I've never had it, I only have had salmon and beef my two favorite meets. Steaks are especially delicious" he says daydreaming about food, " I'm Adiv not eighty-six. I'm Adiv a purebred Westie who has the best nose around here and is an expert digger!"

He gave a big smile before it dissapears as he thinks of something, " Wait, those metal things used to be dogs? Also what is this removal you speak of I've never heard of it."

His coat was white as the snow that could be seen in the winter outside. He perked his ears attentive and listening to the older dogs. He needed to know what he was up against if he was going stay here. He felt a bitterness towards Beta now as he awaited the response of his two roommates and he yawned his salmon hued tounge lolling out as he emitted a small whine . He laid down and curled up and put his white tail over his nose and you could tell he was listening from the occasional flick of his ear.

His baby blue eyes held a certain sleepiness in them, but you could see his wheels tuning and a certain fire in them. He was going to become a force to be reckoned with no matter how small he was . This was his new mission, not loyalty to Beta.