"No, the commander and some others are right behind me." The small dog sighed, her voice was softer and sadder than her normal excited, happy tone. "I know, we'll tell them, I'm not sure what to do, but Zadolt needs help."

Spring's ears perked when Zadolt spoke, and her gentle eyes met his. "Yes, we should be safe." She agreed. "You need help, Zadolt, you don't look too good." She murmured, trotting forward and gently pressing her nose to the other dog's chest fur, just as she had done for Kordelas, only, more carefully. "Sit, we can wait for the others to get here, you need to move as little as possible." There was a note of authority in the small dog's voice that hadn't been there before, it came from the concern and affection she held for both Zadolt and Kor, as well as the others, and her need to take care of them. When some other dog was hurt, Spring took it upon herself to do as much as she could for them, physically, mentally, or both.

"Kor, could you get the commander and others? I know they aren't very far, only around the corner or something, but I think they should get this information as soon as possible, and they might be able to help Zadolt. I'll stay here with him." She said, speaking quickly, as was her specialty. "And, both of you listen closely. What happened to Hero was not your fault." Spring met Zadolt's eyes, then Kordelas's. "I know you blame yourselves. In a way, I blame myself too, if I had known that he was leaving then I might have been able to stop him, but I think, at the same time. It doesn't matter what any dog did, Hero was independent and wanted to prove himself as well as revenge for Tysta. No one could have stopped him. You two tried to help, I know you did, but there was nothing more you could do, and you're lucky to still be here now. I'm glad you are. So, please, I know you'll keep blaming yourselves, but you have to realize that, in reality, it wasn't your fault, and the only dog that blames you is you."

With that, the chihuahua/shepherd mix sat down next to Zadolt, looking up at the two larger dogs with compassion, affection, and understanding. "Now, seriously, Zadolt, sit, you look as though you might fall, and I'm not nearly big enough to catch you, I don't want you to get hurt more."

(I'm so sorry I didn't get this out sooner, and now it's short and messy. Oof, so sorry!)

Ginger | Female | Broken Cull | Kilo | 46 | Mentions: Afton, Spring, Maze, Arrow, Kordelas, Zadolt


Ginger's programming was acting up. Things were happening and she didn't even notice. She was reacting too late, thinking too slowly.
She'd noticed Afton had left, run off, disobeyed her command. Yet when she turned around to call him back, he was gone and they were far deeper in the tunnels than she realized. Ginger hadn't been thinking, somehow she'd just blanked out.
What scared her the most was the fact that she'd wanted to punish Afton. Not simply reprimand, or force more training and not allow any food. She'd wanted to punish him. Attack him and give him a scar to remember. A scar to teach him to never disobey her again.

Ginger had felt that same instinct, that same need to pounce on Spring when the tiny little dog ran after saying something about Kor and Zadolt.
Ginger would have smelled them, should have noticed them earlier. That's why she had enhancements.
Instead, she slowly followed the little dog.
She hoped Arrow and Maze were following her. She heard the footsteps of a larger dog, which were probably drowning out the terrier's own.
Ginger noticed that the wolf blood was hanging back. Still wary of being so close to a cull. Ginger didn't blame her. Something was wrong with Gin, she could feel it in her mind. That creeping ache, the pain, the feeling that her mind was being torn in half. That terrible feeling of losing control.

Ginger turned a corner and finally found the dogs she was looking for. Kordelas and Zadolt.
Both didn't look good, especially Zadolt. They'd just returned from a battle one member short.
Hero.
The mention of that name, the realization dawning on her that if he wasn't with the others, he was either dead or being killed by Beta... it didn't make her sad. She'd been sad for Tysta. She wanted to be sad for Hero, a brave dog of Kilo, yet she felt nothing.

She watched Spring sit down next to Zadolt, comforting him.

Weakness.

"Zadolt" Maze spoke for one of the first times since joining Kilo, it was a simple word. A name. Ginger knew that there were unsaid emotions, unsaid words in that one name. Only something two dogs from Beta would understand.

The black wolf-blood walked past Ginger and sat down next to the Australian shepherd mix. Ginger knew it was the most comforting thing Maze could do. Beta had ruined the lives of so many dogs. Beta was ruining her's all over.

"Hero's dead." it wasn't a question.
"It hurts and you probably blame yourselves for his death. I've blamed myself for so many deaths, but I have a reason. I killed those dogs without a second thought. You, Kordelas and Zadolt, did not. You fought, you survived so Hero wouldn't die in vain" it felt like her skull was about to crack open and she squeezed her eyes shut. Some might mistake it for sadness if her voice hadn't been so cold and emotionless.

"I wish I could say we can mourn him. I wish I could say everything will be fine, but it won't be. I don't know what happened, but I do know that if we waste any more time, Hero will have died in vain. We need to prepare. Beta is coming, we all know this" she hated the words that she spoke. Ginger's whole goal with Kilo had been allowing her dogs to be dogs, allowing them to form bonds and feel so that if they fought, they didn't fight for themselves, instead they would fight for Kilo.

"Maze, help Zadolt to the base, Spring, Arrow, you go with them" she ordered.

"Kor, I need you to tell me everything that happened."

Zadolt | Male | Australian/Beauceron mix | Formerly of Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: Kordelas, Spring, Maze, Ginger, Arrow, Kampe(mentioned), Hero(mentioned)

He blinked at Kordelas. The dog had just asked him if he was okay. He had nearly killed his sister; if that wasn’t the opposite of okay, he didn’t know what was. He was about to say as much, but then the small dog -Spring, was that her name?- said they should be safe, and he remembered that she hadn’t been there. She didn’t know he was related to Kampe.

So he didn’t answer Kordelas’s question. It should have been obvious, anyway.

He froze when she touched him, not sure what to do. He flicked his eyes to Kordelas, a silent plea for him to help or get the small dog away from him. He was Beta; physical contact absolutely did not happen unless they were fighting. This dog either thought he would be comforted by another dog touching him(he was not), or it was a bizarre attack strategy. He was leaning more towards the first option; Kilo wasn't that wierd.

He stepped away from her when she spoke(thankfully, she didn't notice), and he listened without feeling to her words. She could say reassurances all she wanted, but it wouldn’t help. His guilt wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t dissipate. It was permanent, settling next to the guilt he harboured over Tysta’s death. Her words could not stop it.

“I’m fine.” His words sounded tired, even to him, but he could handle standing for however long he needed to. “I’m used to pain. Nearly had my leg broken once, though thankfully it was only dislocated.”

He didn’t say anything else, as he heard pawsteps approaching them. One pair sounded metallic, another sounded dog-like. Commander Ginger and someone else, unless there was another, quieter dog. They came around a bend, and now he could see it was Commander Ginger, Maze and Arrow. Maze called out his name, and he could hear the question in her voice: Who?

“Kampe killed him.” He said when she sat next to him. Unlike with the smaller Kilo dog, Maze did not touch him; and for that he was grateful. “I almost killed her in return.” He shivered, a minuscule thing, at the memory. He was glad that Commander Ginger chose that moment to speak, and he concentrated on her words, wanting them to distract him from the burning guilt that was welling up.

He appreciated that she spoke to them no words of comfort, did not try to console them. She told them that she wished she could say those words, but she did not try to lie to them. She spoke the truth of their situation, that they needed to prepare. However, Zadolt felt she was wrong; Kampe and Hoffen would need a few hours to be repaired, at least.

She had closed her eyes halfway through her words; yet her voice was emotionless, which was odd. He did not give it a second thought, however, because she started giving out orders. He shook his head at her when she ordered Maze to help him back to their base.

“With all due respect, Commander, I disagree. There was something…” He didn’t know what to call Kampe saying that she wouldn’t fight them; odd? Weird? “.... interesting in the Chief Cull’s behavior. I do not believe Kordelas should be the one to give that information, given that it most likely happens all the time in Beta.”

He needed to tell her about Kampe. She deserved to know, and if she ended up hating him, then so be it. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who had their memories altered by Beta; there were so many dogs who were being trained, with more dogs being put into regiments every year.

He couldn’t be the only one.

Kämpe watched silently as the groups dispersed to discuss amongst themselves. At least the regiments were still living, even if their numbers were down. Really, the stubborn survival of the diverse dogs had caught Kämpe off gaurd. It seemed all probability was stacked against them, but Bravo and Foxtrot still struggled and survived, like a lone street lamp in the dark of the alleys. Part of Kämpe wanted to leave these disfunctional bands of untrained dogs. Part of her wanted to remain with Charlie, among other elite regiments, where her purpose was obvious and her mind clear. Even so, something within the Chief wanted to stay, for one reason or another. The cull shut down the thought with practiced ease, turning to the large transfer Ninety-Six. He had yet to move.

All regiments were trained differently, Kämpe knew. It was both a flaw and strength in the system, but made transfering and cooperation between regiments a complicated matter. Dogs from Ninety-Six's regiment were carefully trained to follow orders with precision - they took no creative liberties.

"Ninety-Six. You are to approach Commander Thirty-Four for assesment immediately." She said, with confident volume, but little variation in her tone.

The Commander had never before request a sparring assesment of any dog. Likely because he would crush any dog or halfblood opponent into the dirt. Only culls, or dogs of Quebec, it seemed, could fight other culls. It would be a curious fight to watch, that so much was clear.

They sort of had and idea of what they were going to do, and that was basically good enough, as far as Anfall was concerned. And at least - whatsherface - Ninety-something, maybe - had an idea of what she was good at. That made stuff easier.

"Kay. I'll do the beginning section. Then - what's your name again - well, you, I don't know, the one who isn't Orden, will do the sprint. And then Orden, I guess you're up for the hurdles."

"Sure," the collie responded. Nothing else. Just 'sure'. The dog could be rather irritating at times - well, not Orden herself, really. Just everything else. Everything was annoying early in the morning.

"I'll do the tube, weaving, and wires as well. Someone can do the box jump section quickly, and I'll take over for the wall jump and tube. I'm the only one small enough," Orden continued, in an amount of words uncharacteristic for the dog, but not particularly odd.

Anfall sat down, yawning. "I'll finish up with the hurdles. You good with last section? Ninety-somebody? Do you have a name?"

Kordelas (Kor) / Male / Doberman Shepherd / Kilo / I.D: 71 / M: Hero, Zadolt, Kampe, Ginger, Arrow, Maze, Spring

Kordelas looked at Spring as she spoke, swiveling his ears towards her, to awknowledge her words. "What happened to Hero was not your fault." The small dog looked at both of them in turn.

"I know you blame yourselves. In a way, I blame myself too, if I had known that he was leaving then I might have been able to stop him, but I think, at the same time. It doesn't matter what any dog did, Hero was independent and wanted to prove himself as well as revenge for Tysta. No one could have stopped him. You two tried to help, I know you did, but there was nothing more you could do, and you're lucky to still be here now. I'm glad you are. So, please, I know you'll keep blaming yourselves, but you have to realize that, in reality, it wasn't your fault, and the only dog that blames you is you."

Oh, how Kordelas wanted to erupt with 'BUT IT IS MY FAULT! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SAVE HIM.... or at least stop him.... but I didn't, and now he's dead. Because of me...' but he didn't. He forced air out slowly through his nose, giving Spring a slight jerk of his head. He saw how Zadolt looked at him. Of course I'm not alright! His eyes seemed to scream. Kordelas glanced down, then back into the other male's eyes.

"I didn't mean emotionally," he murmured, looking at him with understanding. When Spring pressed herself into Zadolt's blood-matted fur as she had his, Kordelas noticed the look in the Beta dog's eyes change completely to 'Help. Me.' However, before he could say anything, before he could turn and take Spring's advice, Commander Ginger's voice sounded in his ears. He got to his paws, and nodded to the commander respectfully, regret lingering in his gaze.

"Hero's dead." A simple statement of obvious fact. Regret slowly gave way to pain in Kordelas' eyes, both for Hero's death and for Ginger. The Commander was either fighting her way through an attack again, or had just finished... her eyes looked odd; scared. They never looked scared. He held his attention on her as she continued speaking, her voice void of all emotion.

"It hurts and you probably blame yourselves for his death. I've blamed myself for so many deaths, but I have a reason. I killed those dogs without a second thought. You, Kordelas and Zadolt, did not. You fought, you survived so Hero wouldn't die in vain," Kor watched as she squeezed her eyes shut. From sadness or pain, however, he could not tell.

"I wish I could say we can mourn him. I wish I could say everything will be fine, but it won't be. I don't know what happened, but I do know that if we waste any more time, Hero will have died in vain. We need to prepare. Beta is coming, we all know this. Maze, help Zadolt to the base, Spring, Arrow, you go with them. Kor, I need you to tell me everything that happened."

Kordelas nodded obediently. "Of course, Commander." But the words had hardly left his mouth before Zadolt spoke up.

“With all due respect, Commander, I disagree. There was something.... interesting in the Chief Cull’s behavior. I do not believe Kordelas should be the one to give that information, given that it most likely happens all the time in Beta.” Kor looked at the Australian Beauceron mix, dipping his head in respect. It didn't matter what had happened back at Beta. He trusted that if Zadolt felt he should tell Ginger what had happened, the male had good reason to do so... Kor understood the urge to attack the Cull... he'd had that instinct, too... at least for a moment.

"Commander Gin, with all due respect to you and your command, letting Zadolt tell you what happened would be a better option." He left out that his reasoning for that was because Zadolt had been trained to act without emotions, because Zadolt was seeming to function better than Kor was at the moment, despite having gone almost insane for a minute. That Kordelas thought himself weak, in this aspect. Grief was likely to hinder his representation of what happened, and they couldn't afford to lose precious time.

Thulo followed the commander silently when she ordered them to follow her to the obstacle course. It was strange, being in such a small regiment... and one that was so unorganized. Other than the culls there was no definite hierarchy. Thulo had been one of the strongest in his regiment, though there was another Great Dane mix that had been a good opponent, Thulo had been the best in Quebec, aside from the Cull. He knew it was because of his older age and experience.
The dogs in Foxtrot and Bravo were all younger from the looks of them. Well, there were two that seemed his age, but he didn't speak to them nor bother to look at them for long, they were just other dogs.

He listened to the Chief cull intently, curious about this obstacle course... he'd never been in one. Though he'd been placed in different terrains with different obstacles to watch out for while fighting, he'd never been in a course.
He quickly lost interest in the course when the Chief told him to approach Commander Thirty-Four about the assessment.

He'd overheard the Giant Schnauzer requesting a fighting assessment with Thulo earlier in the pen. It was a curious request, as Thulo's commander had never fought with any of the dogs in the regiment except to remove them as an example. He wasn't going to be removed, he'd done nothing wrong. He'd just been transferred, and if this cull thought it could remove him, he would have a few words. Or he'd fight.

Thulo was trained to fight to the death, aim for the throat, pin the opponent, break the legs, smash the chest, claw out the eyes, tear out the stomach.
He was trained to kill, and he hoped that Commander Thirty-Four knew that.
He'd fought plenty of Half-bloods with metal plating, and though his teeth were metal, he would have to watch out with the cull, but aside from that, Thulo saw no problem fighting this cull.

He respectfully nodded to the Chief before walking over to the Giant Schnauzer.
"Commander Thirty-Four, you wanted a fighting assessment with me." It wasn't a question. His voice was bored but respectful. He knew this was a cull, but even culls needed to prove their worth.

Rache | Female | Doberman Husky mix | Charlie/Foxtrot | 61 | Mentions: All


It appeared as though Sixty-One had been a statue, the only thing's that moved were her chest, which rose and fell with every breath, and her eyes, which blinked every few moments.
But she wasn't. She was listening and watching, prepared to follow a command the second it was ordered, like the perfect soldier she was.

When the Chief cull had arrived, leading the small long dog, she'd listened to every word the commander spoke, though she showed no sign of hearing it.
When the transfer, Ninty-Two had entered the pen and nodded to her, another dog would have thought Sixty-One to be blind, but she saw the movement.
She also noticed how strange the Cheif cull was acting. The small little dog had spoken without permission, as had the Commander Thirty-Four, yet the Chief had done nothing to reprimand them. Strange.

Sixty-One didn't even blink when the little dog, Ninety, approached her with a question. She would only speak when a cull or higher-ranking dog spoke to her, and as she was Charlie, that meant only culls.

The second the Chief ordered them to follow her to the training pen Sixty-One was moving.
Each step was taken with trained precision, she stepped exactly where and how she wanted; or rather how Beta wanted its soldiers to walk.
Her tail, as it had been the entire time, was low, but curled, showing that she was respective of the culls, and showing that she was confident and sure of herself.

Sixty-One listened to the Chief culls orders intently when they all gathered near the agility course.
She'd been in many courses of varying difficulty, this one wasn't one of the easy ones, but she'd done much harder ones, and some she'd done without a team.

What almost broke Sixty-One out of her perfect posture was the mention of Seventy-Six being in command of Foxtrot. She'd expected herself to be chosen, but she didn't question it. A soldier's job was to follow, not to rule.

As they parted into their teams to discuss, Sixty-One looked over her regiment, well aware of Seventy-Six doing the same. She would have to remember he was in charge...
Her gaze landed on Eighty-Eight, the annoying greyhound mix.
"Seventy-Six, if you don't mind me speaking, I believe Eighty-Eight-"
"I prefer Frosch. Eighty-Eight is too bland" the greyhound interrupted with a... friendly smile?
"I believe Eighty-Eight should be doing the sprinting. He's got the long legs and I doubt he has enough coordination to jump or weave, let alone balance on the wires" she gave Eighty-Eight a quick glare once she finished. It was supposed to shut him up, but a part of her wished he would say one more thing so she could lash out- no. Sixty-One would not lash out. She was a soldier, not a commander.

"Ninety should do the tubes. He's the smallest of us and with those stubby legs, I doubt he could run or jump.
I believe I would be most useful at the start with the ramps and jumps, and by the wires. Possibly the box and wall jumps if no one else will take them. That leaves the hurdles, weaving, sea saws, and narrow ramp at the end" Sixty-One rarely spoke this much, and she didn't really know why she was speaking. Usually, she would let the commander make the choices and weigh the options. Though then again, she needed this Seventy-Six to prove himself first. Sixty-One was aiming to win this, and she wouldn't let this old dog ruin it.

Karin | Female | Portuguese Waterdog, Portuguese Podengo, Vizsla| Foxtrot(moved to Bravo) | 92 | Mentions: Orden, Anfall, Frosch(mentioned)

She nodded when Twenty-Two -Orden, as the other dog called her- spoke. Her words were logical, as Karin and Twenty-One were both taller, something she only noticed now that it came up. “I’m fine with the last section.” It made no difference to her what section she did.

She hesitated at Twenty-One's second question; this dog wanted to know her name? The only reason she had ever told anyone her name was because Frosch convinced everyone in her regiment that it was a good idea. This dog barely knew her; Karin had only told the rest of Tango because she had worked with them for a month, learned their personalities and traits. She had never worked with these dogs.

“My name... My name isn’t important. My number, Ninety-Two, is what the Culls address me as.” These dogs didn’t need to know her name. They didn’t need to know that she only realized everyone else had a name after Frosch told them his. They had no business knowing that she had come up with her name herself, while the other dogs in her regiments had slept. It was irrelevant, unimportant. She turned away from them, quickly flicking her eyes over the course, skipping to the parts she was to do. Seesaws, a ramp, and two sprints. She focused on that, willing herself to stay on track. She would not be sidetracked by small details like telling others her name.

I follow the rules. To not follow the rules is death, and I refuse to die. Her personal way of reminding herself of the path to the best life she could live; serving Beta to her best ability. There was no other future.

Her face set in an indifferent mask, she turned around and faced the two females. “Are you ready to begin?”

Ninety-something seemed fine with the plan, so Anfall figured they'd start soon enough. And she had the first leg of the relay.

Nope. Nope nope nope. I'd like to opt out of this, please and thank you. Too early in the morning. I'd rather be in my cell.

Anfall flicked her ear absently at Ninety-Two's remark. Well, whatever - if she wanted to be called by a number, that was fine by Anfall. A bit of a mouthful, though.

In response to Ninety Two's inquiry, Anfall huffed. "Sure," she answered. She wasn't being insincere, really, she just believed that 'sure' appropriately described her level of perperation. Could she do the course? Sure. Did she want to do it? Nope.

Well. Best to get this all over with. Muttering under her breath, Anfall sauntered forward, padding towards the start line. Flicking her orange-brown gaze to the Chief, Anfall - rather impatiently - waited for the go-ahead. The bully mix yawned.

"Bravo is ready," called the Chief, and she muttered something quieter. A command. Only a few moments later, a stopwatch built into the arena wall, for relays such as these, flickered on. It was always strange to Anfall that the Chief had a wireless connection with nearly the entire training complex. Doors, lights, stopwatches, apparantly, all of that. It was unnerving. Also, were Ninety-Two and Orden in place? They'd better be. Anfall wasn't doing this by herself.

"Your time starts now."

Releasing a hushed string of colorful curses at the sudden beginning, Anfall lunged forward. She quickly found her stride, explosive power sending her shooting forward. She slowed at the first ramp, scrambling rather ungracefuly over, and picked up the pace over the second one.

Oh, time to climb a wall. Great. Oh no, we couldn't have done some drill work. Nope. We have to climb walls and massive dirt piles. I hate this. I'm done. Could I leave? What would happen if I just left?

With a huff, Anfall lowered her head and sprang up the wall. She struggled at the top, but managed to pull herself over, landing roughly before continuing. Another ramp - she flew over. And now the dirt obstacle. Her breathing was heavier as she fought her way upwards, pulling her body towards the top with powerful strides. A spray of dirt flew from beneath her kicking paws, raining on the ground below. With stubborn determination, Anfall managed to pull herself over the summit and fly back down the other side hitting the ground at a run.

Box jumps next.

Anfall leapt, but the tedious nature of the leaping slowed her.

Fine, then. I'll just jump two at a time.

Anfall tensed, than bolted forward, lunging across gaps of boxes. Finally reaching the end, she dashed to where Ninety-Two's leg began.

"Go!" She barked to the dog.