Date of Birth:
June 15th, 098 PA
Recon, Search & Rescue, Munitions Disposal
Decorations, Medals, Badges, Citations, and Campaign:
- Basic Training, Army
- Cybernetics Integration Training
- Enemy Force Identification Course
- Linguistics 100: Spanish
- First Aid Training Course
- Power Armour and Robot Gunnery Training Course, Basic
- Motorcycle Maneuvering Course, Basic
- Light Hover Vehicle Maneuvering Course, Basic
- Hovercycle Maneuvering Course, Basic
- Close Quarters Combat School
- Wilderness Navigation and Movement Training Course
- Wilderness Survival Training Course
- Tracking and Counter-tracking Training Course
- Psionic Orientation and Sentivity Course
- Psi-Hound Orientation and Obedience Course
- Master Psychic (Sensitive) Training Course
Disciplinary data and court martial record:
- Field Experience Badge
- Iron Star
- Joseph Prosek Medal for Valor
- Crimson Heart x2
- Cybernetic Heart
- Old Chicago Service Ribbon
- Coalition Defense Service Medal
No record of Court Marshals or any disciplinary actions.
The winter white camouflage she wore blended in well with the light snowfall, making the psi-hound that lay motionless in the snow all the harder to see. Her fur was already a gray-white for the most part, and though the top of her head was a stark black, a thin covering of snow hid even that from view. The only part of her that was distinguishable from the white around her were her eyes, the piercing blue of their gaze staring out into the distance. After a short time, the dog boy moved, pulling a pair of binoculars to her eyes, and a radio to her mouth.
"Tango spotted, bearing South-South-West, 800 yards,"
She whispered over the encrypted channel. The rest of her pack had fallen behind. Being the designated forward scout meant that she was quite alone, nearly half a mile away from the rest of her group. Not a far patrol, close enough for a dash to friendlies if needed, but far enough for artillery to be effective. "Heading is... Dead East, slow march. Suggesting Birds Free."
She eyed her targets as she waited for the response, tail beginning to wag slowly in anticipation of what was to come. Finally, her radio crackled back to life, "Bearing and Heading copied, Birds Free heard. Splash in five, heads up."
The words brought a grin to her face, the distant thump of artillery shells firing exciting her. The Xiticix patrol that had been reported in the area wouldn't stand a chance, would never even know what hit them. She counted the five seconds down, and blinked just a moment before impact. The boom of a landing explosive shell reverberated throughout the landscape, and she quickly reopened her eyes, peering through the resultant smoke and steam to discern shapes through the obscuration.
After just a moment, she spoke once more, "Adjust firing 100 yards south."
She listened as the explosions and distant whumps began again. With the volume of their guns, there was no telling if her pack had heard her at all. At least not until her ear twitched, the faint cry of pain from one of the insectoids making it through the bass of shells landing. "Direct hit, continue fire on present location."
After four more minutes of constant shelling, the guns finally fell silent.
Olive spent nearly a full minute in silence, watching for any signs of movement as she caught glimpses of the destruction past the smoke. Finally, she nodded, slowly standing and loping back towards her troop. "Hostiles terminated. Bravo Zulu, pack."
Tail wagging, she amiably continued her jog, body relaxed as her eyes continued to flit back and forth. Just in case.
"What do you mean I won't be given special mention in the report?!"
Olive growled. The other psi-hound, a beagle, shook his head, worried eyes locked on the large wolf-husky mix.
"T-the artillery squad felt that your contributions weren't noteworthy enough to-"
He was cut off by an agitated bark by Olive, who continued on to talk over him.
"Not noteworthy enough? Listen here, hound, if it weren't for me our squad wouldn't have even known where to fire, let alone known they were missing by 300 feet when they did start shelling. I should be given a commendation for that, not relegated to an unnamed scout!"
Teeth bared, the savage wolf side of the large psi-hound towered over her much smaller pack member.
"N-now listen here, I'm in charge of this pack,"
the beagle retorted, straightening up and backing against the mortar they were next to, hiding the fact his tail was firmly between his legs, "And I won't be bossed around by the boot who just transferred in here from 'recuperation time' in the med-wing."
Olive snapped her jaws, getting a wince out of her supposed superior, and seemed about to retort before the both Dog Boys stopped, ears perking at the sound of crunching snow, eyes flicking away from their dispute as their commander approached. The human had the classic flared helmet that designated her their CO, her expression unreadable through the skull helmet she wore.
Both dog boys immediately snapped to attention, the beagle looking a bit ashamed of himself, and Olive's mouth splitting in a wide grin at the sight of the human, although her stature remained statuesque. The officer looked them both over, before speaking up, "Private Olive F922-D742, Corporal Bavell 977A-B412, you two are aware we in what is considered hostile territory, yes?"
She got a firm nod from the two mutant dogs, "Then you should be aware that your conduct should be representative of your status as soldiers. Understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
both pack members called out in unison.
"Good. Now then, I must give both of you congratulations on this operation. Quick, efficient, effortless. Exactly what we want from a Xiticix encounter while on long patrol. Keep up the good work, and we might see about getting your squad half an extra ration for the next month."
As she walked off, both dog boys in brighter spirits, their spat mostly forgotten. The beagle still carried a slightly ashamed look on his face as he watched his human superior leave.
Olive, on the other hand, merely stared after her officer with an open smile, tail wagging at the praise the human had laid upon her.
She loved the Coalition. She loved her humans. Nothing else mattered to her at that moment.
The shell detonated no more than 80 feet from her. The rumbling earth and torrent of debris that rained down on her was horrid, but it was the smoke that was the worst, limiting her movement to an all-fours crawl. Although she could lope and run on all fours when needed, moving slowly and carefully was difficult, arduous, and caused her strong legs to cramp if she was at it for too long. Still, she had to be here, had to "simulate clearing a war zone of dangerous munitions and supplies." It was awful, dangerous work, and although the shells were carefully designed to not
blow her to pieces if they happened to crash down too close, it was still jarring.
That, and she couldn't find the damn thing she was searching for.
Supposedly, according to the rules of the exercise, her and the other trainees had all been sent out into someplace unimportant in the wastes to "perform sample EOD techniques" and "recover functional anti-personnel explosive ordinance." What it ended up being was an absolute CF of humans, and a lone Dog Boy, searching desperately through rubble to disarm some mine or some live missile that had somehow failed to detonate. While being actively shelled. To make the experience more authentic.
She whined to herself at the treatment. While she was more than glad to accept the offer of training, said training sometimes seemed... excessive. She set her teeth, though, and caught of glimpse of something drab in a distinctly military style. With a bark of relief and excitement, she put her mind to walking through the training as she carefully worked to disarm the mine. Another artillery blast rocked her world, almost sending her tumbling, and ruining her concentration.
There was a distinct click
as the mine she had been working on was triggered in some way. She stared at it, paw still dug deep into the wiring and electronics inside the explosive device.
she grumbled to herself, and half a second later, the flash bang that had replaced the inner workings of the mine went off and turned her world white.
Olive was getting really, really
tired of her "advanced training courses" involving rubble, destruction, and explosions. This time, at least, she wasn't getting reprimanded for failing to disarm a mine on the field. Instead, she was grinning, despite the harsh conditions of the carefully selected war-torn city about her.
Her ear twitched as she caught a faint sound, and immediately leapt off of the rubble of what was once a store long, long ago, dropping to all fours as she raced towards the sound. She could smell him now, and hardly had to try to recognize the scent of blood. Soon, she had traced the sound and smell to what had once been a parking garage, half of it's floors collapsed inwards, the lanes for hover vehicles to leave clogged with the corpses of long-wrecked cars and trucks. Inside the garage, she could smell, was a human she had to rescue.
She loped towards the destruction, standing and carefully making her way through the rubble. The person was lost deep into the structure, and she had to be careful to not collapse the building any further. Soon enough, though, she found what she was looking for.
An section of an overpass had crashed through the third floor of the building, and had promptly crushed the relatively thin floors it had laid upon, and now sat at a nearly 60 degree angle, rubble and concrete strewn about the toppled structure. She sniffed the dusty air once more, squinted in the dim light, and spotted the car, half crushed under the rebar supports that had once strengthened the overpass above. Glancing inside the vehicle she spotted what was meant to be a civilian, but in reality was likely a CS Grunt simply playing a part. The blood was definitely real, though. All the more to make it seem realistic.
He groaned in pain, looking up at the Dog Boy as she pulled off her pack, having brought the tools for the job. An industrial cutter later, and the car door had been pried off, and the injured man retrieved. She quietly whispered words of encouragement to him, soothing him and reassuring him that he'd be fine, that she was taking him to a field hospital to get him taken care of.
As she loped out of the building, her sensitive ears twitched, and she grinned. The man was whispering remarks into some form of recorder on her skill, likely not knowing she could hear him. Panting as she exited back out into the heat of the day, she began jogging to the makeshift infirmary, satisfaction filling her at having succeeded at her duties, even if only for a training exercise.
CS Grunt & Dog Boy
1 0,000 - 1,950
2 1,951 - 3,900
3 3,901 - 8,800
4 8,801 - 17,600
5 17,601 - 25,600
6 25,601 - 35,600
7 35,601 - 50,600
8 50,601 - 70,600
9 70,601 - 95,600
10 95,601 - 125,600
11 125,601 - 175,600
12 175,601 - 225,600
13 225,601 - 275,600
14 275,601 - 325,600
15 325,601 - 375,600