Seeing Ken react the way he did, Aidan chuckled silently and sucked on one of his canine teeth and replied something like: [b]"Nothing noteworthy, aye? Otherwise you'd tell me..."[/b]; other than that, the rest of the night was a blur in his head. At least he did catch some sleep that night. The days that followed were rather uneventful, the dog spent his days keeping his physical condition up to maximum: carrying tonnes of medical equipment, harnesses and a wounded soldier on a stretcher required endless amounts of endurance. Normally, he wouldn't be on field work all by himself, but one can never rely too much on chance. If he wasn't maintaining his exercise routine, he'd either read something from his PADD or hang out at the infirmary; he was getting used with his new life on the landcruiser, he was also getting used to constant, low hum the was making especially during the night. 

Then came the day he was anticipating, Aidan just managed to finish his breakfast goop before he got to the briefing room, bringing along a cup'o'Joe and his PADD. He quietly listened to his superior present what seemed to be a run-of-the-mill skirmish: get there, investigate, retaliate, haul ass. Repeating the info in his head over and over, he thought of a question he considered to be worth asking. Seeing that Blade didn't mention anything about the civvies aboard those crawlers, Aidan lifted his left hand with a small knot in his neck; this would be the first time he would speak loudly with every member of the squad present, he had to somehow make a good impression, even if he were to say but three words.

[b]"Are there any confirmed casualties or wounded civvies on the spot?"[/b] Aidan asked when he was given permission. Depending on Blade's answer, his medical kit could weigh a few extra kilograms worth of bandages, antiseptics, tissue adhesive, utensils and gloves. Maybe some food, [i]most likely the people aboard those crawlers didn't touch the cargo they were hauling[/i], Aidan considered.