Aadya | Female | Pembroke Corgi | 62 | Mentions: Bravo, Foxtrot, Kämpe, Hoffen, Alta, Rache

The quiet dog padded down the stone-cold hallways toward the training simulation. Cool and collected as always, Aadya made the most of her short strides, moving smoothly as the muscles in her side tensed and relaxed in a steady rhythm. She herself had trained in the simulation many a time, practicing all kinds of scenarios. Beta had tested her, and she had overcome.

As she made her way to the viewing window, she nodded respectfully to the two sisters. Alta and Rache, wasn't it? She had met them the few times she had trained with Regiment Charlie. They were rather good at their jobs, and she appreciated any dog that did their job well. At the moment, Beta didn't know what to do with their 'experiment,' Aadiya. They hadn't expected her to do nearly as well as she had. She had trained with Charlie, as they could benefit from a dog her size, and now they were sending her to shadow the chief Cull, Kämpe.

Honestly, she wasn't sure what she could learn from a Cull that she hadn't learned from Charlie and her individualized training, but Beta knew best. Just seeing life from a different perspective was enough for her. Aadya was curious about the mechanical commanders.

Now, unlike the Charlie sisters, Aadya hadn't received the vigorous mental and emotional training of most dogs-she was free to think and feel as she wished. The "mascot" of Beta she had become, boosting morale among the humans had its perks. She was loved by the humans, and scorned by the other dogs for it. Aadya had proven her worth a thousand times over, and as she matured it stopped bothering her.

The small dog looked out the window, her warm brown eyes assessing the situation. All she could make out were dark figures, but it seemed like they had fought-or were fighting. The former she guessed by the fact that they were mostly still. Probably listening to a dog speak. With a flick of her ears in the direction of the window, she addressed the sisters in a mild, conversational tone.

"I didn't expect you to be here. Training under Kämpe as well?"

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

He came to, his head throbbing and metallic claws digging into the flesh of his shoulder. Where was he?

Then it hit them. Weren't they supposed to be training? Why was he in such pain? No blood was to be drawn during training sessions.

Then he remembered-well, sort of. Last he remembered he was shouting at the dogs to stop fighting, and a shower of red sparks. His memory stopped there. Bloodshot eyes turned upwards to the Cull whose claws dug into his shoulder. "Kämpe?" Hoffen slipped, dropping the title he was supposed to address her by. Fear flashed in his eyes, but only momentarily. Then his programming took over, well, for the most part.

He rolled out from under her, standing up, the fur at the base of his neck bristling just the slightest bit. He didn't feel the burning pain of the whiplash from Kämpe's tail across his face, but he did feel the warmth of dark blood spilling down his muzzle and dripping from his face. One of his Cull modifications was to decrease his pain sensitivities with some minor modifications to his nervous system. Of course, this wouldn't last very long, nor would it protect him from feeling the throbbing pain caused by the ripped out implant.

He drew himself to his full height, curling his slightly-greying lip at the balking dogs. He had no idea of what had happened, but could tell it wasn't good.

Zadolt | Male | Australian/German Shepherd mix | Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: all

He hastened to obey Kämpe’s order, ignoring his bad leg and going to stand beside Maze. Something was off with her; Not the visible injury on her eye, but something had affected her. He hadn’t heard Kämpe say anything, but from the way Pfeil was looking at Maze he guessed something bad had been said. He could easily guess what; Foxtrot were seen as the weaker regiment, the softer one, and Pfeil’s bond with Maze would be considered a weakness.

He stood as tall as he could, knowing that it wasn’t as tall as usual; his leg was broken at worse and dislocated at best. He didn’t display any pain on his features, instead taking a careful neutral expression. He forced himself to stand on his injured leg, though leaning less on it then usual. The stench of blood was slightly overpowering to him, making him want to gag.

As he watched, Hoffen seemed to return to the world. He was slightly shocked he didn’t address Kämpe by her title. He also noticed a red, blinking light on the ground; he suspected it was Hoffen’s transmitter, which would have to be replaced. He didn’t know what happened, but he could guess easily from the look on Kämpe’s face a fight had gone down. And yet... Something else was bothering him. That name- it was if he had heard it before, in some long forgotten memory. He moved it to the back of his mind; it was not worth thinking about.

Kämpe | Female | Doberman, GSD, Australian Shepard Cross | Cheif Cull | 24 | M: Hoffen, Zadolt, All

Zadolt limped forward, and Kämpe glared at him coldly. She was mildly surprised in regards to his resilience, but that did not lessen the fact that he had gotten himself injured in the first place. Despite all, she was strangely pleased that he was alive. Kämpe pricked her ears at the sound of the fallen commander's voice. She turned her attention away from Zadolt, yet still remained turned away from the group, so as not to reveal any sort of change in expression. What had he said? Kämpe. The Cull stared blankly. It took her a few heartbeats to recognize what he was saying. The word sounded foriegn; although there was a slight haze of memory, a notion that this word was somehow familiar. That she should know it. Ah; the memory pricked at the pack of her mind - her name. Her birth name; her name as a dog. The Cheif had forgotten. It had been driven into her mind that she was no longer dog; she was a leader made of metal. She was a commander, a Cull, to the point in which she, out of habit, often referred to herself as, "Chief," or ,"Commander". It was strange to recognize that she did have a name. She found it almost amusing that everyone seemed to know her birth name; except, of course, her. Yet... it was saddening. Flashes of memories throbbed at the back of her mind.

Fighting for her life.

Fighting for her friend's life.

Pain, as a life was stolen away.

Agony, as the only one she loved was murdered.

Shattering weakness as she recalled the nonstop pressure. The pressure to become the next leader; the next Chief Cull.

Fear, as the consequences of her failure chased her.

Sadness.

Sadness, that she had lost her life of free will. That she was a Cull; that she could never be free.

Kämpe had died long ago. The first time, when her closest two friends were murdered. The second time, when he was killed. When she learned of her fate as a Cull. When she became the Chief Cull, and forever lost her brother.

Brother.

I... have a brother?

The revelation was sudden, stunning. But the memory flicked away, and she felt her programming take over, her mind start to fog.

She turned back to Hoffen.

Kämpe was a name of her past; a name reserved only to those who she was close to. Her name had not been uttered, not for years. The affect it had on her was concerning. It was as if, at her name, she had finally broken down. Flashed emotion. Brought forth her past; her past of pain. Her past of love, of warmth. Of fear, of agony.

Dark eyes oddly revealing that of a broken soul, she attempted to collect herself again.

"You are to address me as, "Cheif," or "Commander. Do I make myself clear?"

She lashed her tail, cold and authoritative once again.

"Line up, hold steady!"

The world shifted.

And they were back in the training ring.

(sorry for the long post. I got bored on a long car ride >.<)

Commander Hoffen of Foxtrot | #34 | Male | Schnauzer/Wolf cross | M: Kämpe, all (briefly)

Hoffen hadn't even stopped to think. He had originally known the Cull as Kämpe, as number Thirty-Four. He had been a Cull longer than she, though not too long. He hadn't even stopped to think about how most of the dogs, if not all, probably didn't know the Chief Cull's name. Hoffen, still dazed from being struck across the face with the female's whiplash tail hadn't thought about how she would react to being called by her name, one she probably hadn't heard in a very long time.

He was surprised by her reaction, his Cull programming preventing his reaction. Without the defective transmitter, his emotions were dulled, as they usually were.

But he still felt them. Pity, for example, when what he saw in the female's eyes was brokenness, fear, sadness, anger.

He didn't react when she snapped at him, the world moving slowly, then quickly, spinning out of control for a moment, the buzzing in his ears near unbearable. Perhaps she had hit his throbbing head too hard. Trapped inside his mind as his body reacted, nodding to the Cull, blood seeping into his thick, wiry beard and dripping slowly to the floor.

He fell in place next to the line of dogs, where commanders stood. He may have no memory of the fight with Kampe after his transmitter had sparked, but he knew the result.

With a curled lip and a resolve to make a point with dogs of both regiments, he trotted smoothly out of the city-turned-training arena.

Kämpe | Female | Doberman, GSD, Australian Shepard Cross | Chief Cull | 24 | M: Hoffen, Maze, Aayda, Alta, Rache, All l

All having generally recovered from injuries, with the exceptions of a few scars, the regiments had returned from the training ring, healed in the lab, and brought to the training pens. It was here were Kämpe issued her report to Beta, and received orders accordingly. They were not pleased nor displeased with her actions. She had preformed well under the given circumstance, but regardless, both regiments had failed. This was not the fault of any Commander; except perhaps Hoffen, for lacking the drive to instill discipline in his dogs. A painful few sentences passed, and Kämpe had received her order. She turned to the group. "Regiments Bravo, Foxtrot. I was under the impression that you were both some of the better regiments. That your commanders had at least trained you to the point of function. Evidently, I was mislead. Your Commanders have failed you." At this sentence, she snapped her cold gaze at Hoffen. "Beta has made changes accordingly. Alta and Rache are both warriors of Regiment Charlie." She said, gesturing to the two taciturn soldiers behind her. "They know what discipline is. Trained to mental and physical perfection, they are here to strengthen your regiment as well as gain leadership experience. Alta will join Bravo, and Rache to Foxtrot. They will introduce themselves as they see fit." She flicked her ear, transmitter flashing. A shiver of pain danced through her veins.

"And Aayda has also come to join us." Out of the corner of her eye, the Cull spotted a small dog. Smaller than anything she had ever seen, with a long sort of shape. She almost questioned Beta's logic behind this decision.

"Aayda will train beneath me for the time being."

She flicked her ears, turning towards the three newcomers.

"My expectations are high. Do not fail. Is that understood?" The Chief turned back to the regiments. "One final note. Commander Hoffen, you are to remove Maze beyond the training facility walls. I do not care how you proceed, so as long as you complete your task." She flicked her gaze to Maze with mild indifference. Her apathetic features would alarm most dogs; however, these dogs knew that the Chief was not capable of emotions.

She wasn't supposed to be. But it seemed, as she aged, her programming was failing. It was strange; the Cull was still young, yet emotions seemed to become an issue regardless. Pfiel was near as well. Good; a lesson would be taught today.

Suddenly, Kämpe did something not out of orders, but out of her own personal.... feelings. "Commander, you are to meet with me in the far west pen after you complete your assignment."

She faced the regiments. "All dismissed! Proceed with introductions."