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The first fifteen-ish minutes of the party flew by with no interesting events, Aidan didn't notice how quickly time passed; at least, not until he lowered the PADD to rub his eyes and check his wristwatch. Given a chance to look around more, he spotted a new arrival settling down and ordering a glass of wine and another with water. Aidan tried his best not to stare at the poor thing and look like a complete stalker, but he concluded that she was Amelia, the ATAM pilot; he mentally congratulated the fox for ordering wine, at least she tried to keep her heart healthy. Just to get himself out of the rather awkward situation - him being part of the new recruits and yet, he retreats away, stays silent and carefully scans everyone in sight - Aidan thought to move out of his comfort zone try some conversation, get himself introduced to his co-workers; still, his better judgment advised him against it. He knew too well how annoying it is when someone comes right at you and starts babbling just about anything that does not interest you in the slightest when you seek solace and silence; instead, Oliver went ahead and did just that and what a way to start a conversation! Smooth appreciated the dog as he lowered his snout so he could hide an amused smirk creeping on his lips. I can see why he has police records, poor bloke's a gentleman he thought as he concluded his work on his PADD and finally stow it away; he had to do some mental struggles to keep himself away from the device for the rest of the party and try not to look bored. His yawning fit didn't help him much in that matter, though, sleep deprivation was finally showing up on him (save for the unhealthy eye bags hanging beneath his heavy eyelids); and it would get worse, he despised first days in an unfamiliar place, he could never get any sleep at all. Scanning the place once more, he spotted an arriving Myrina and a third tiger retreating to a corner of the room. And a hare? Maybe that one was Adrian.

Quite a solitary bunch thought Aidan either that or that drill of theirs didn't go all that great. If that's the case, well... at least I'll finally deserve my paycheck. With nothing better to do, he finally gave in to the temptation and decided to cool his throat with some bottled, golden poison. After all, one 4% by volume ethanol wouldn't ruin his discernment too bad, maybe they even watered their beers down so they wouldn't distribute too much unauthorized refreshments; then again, judging by how "strict" this place is, surely one can find a hefty supply of spirits somewhere on the cruiser. Should've requisitioned more fructose. Aidan turned towards the bar and as soon as he spotted the bartender facing away from him, he tapped on the bar to attract his attention and raised one finger; alas, it was in vain, as the bartender seemed to be rather oblivious towards the canine's request. Thinking that the bartender may be a bit too busy to hear something as soft as a tapping on a bar, Aidan placed his thumb and finger under his tongue and threw an ear-piercing whistle. Yet, no reaction. He cocked his head backwards in confusion and glanced at everyone else at the bar then back at him. His eyebrow shot upwards, he took off from his seat and approached the man.

"Hey, uh-" but his lame words were unheard. Being tired of this shit, Aidan patted the man's shoulder and tilted his head sideways, maybe he could catch a glance at what he was doing. Finally, he turned around at him, bearing an annoyed expression, yet, the canine did not give up on his intentions.

"Sun-uva-bish, whu?"

"Would you be a kind enough gentleman to interrupt your important activities and offer me a bottled beverage containing alcohol, from processed malted barley? It would alleviate my minor dehydration issue, verily so." He finished his eloquent request with an innocent grin, making fun of the man's obvious latency; sure, it wasn't nice, but he had nothing else to do but to bartend. And he wasn't doing an exceptional job. Unable to keep up with Aidan's apparent gibberish, the bartender shrugged and placed a bottle of beer on the table, muttering "Whatev', mang." Delighted with his reward, the dog nodded deeply, offering him his most sincere thanks, even though he didn't even open the damn bottle. Losing a bit of his patience, the dog sighed and shook his head and locked the bottle cap against the hard surface of the table, only to smash his fist against the bottle and effectively open it. Startled, the man behind the bar looked around only to see Aidan lifting the bottle and bearing a shit-eating grin before taking a swig.

Now he can hear me. Muttered the dog to no one in particular. He decided not to bother himself and go back to his old spot and, instead, stay there; and while he was at it, maybe talk to someone? After another scan, he thought better than to disturb Michael, Oliver with Amelia or colonel Blade with Myrina. Since Adrian also preferred solitude, the medic turned his head over to the wolf near him, who was abandoned by his friend. Maybe he could take Oliver's place?

"Kensington, pilot of the... ah, Sky Hawk, right?" of course, he was right, but he had to start a conversation somehow and offered his hand for a healthy shake. "Aidan Sykes, I'll be the combat and non-combat medic of the team. Hopefully you won't have to haul my ass too much, I'd hate to ruin the paint job of the chopper. Say, uh, if you'd rather be with your own thoughts, I'll bugger off and bother someone else; maybe my friend there behind the counter." he said, turning his head towards the bartender and giving him a thumbs up before returning his attention to the chopper pilot. "You guys must be the most well-mannered people I've meet since I've been in the military, no one's playing beer pong or trying to redecorate the place with puke. Well, not yet. I have a feeling I'll be working tonight."

Aidan did feel rather uncomfortable to be on the landruiser, and it has been, what, half an hour? He didn't quite get the chance to wind down, realize what the heck he was doing and reorganize his stuff. For now, though, all he could do was to blend in as much as he could and try to deal with his own problems, later.
I was thinking on waiting for one more post before mine, but I'll go ahead and write something down. I'd might break my character's social habits to have some interaction with people; Incubus, or Cart, beware
Grr, damnit, how did I overlook that? I'll fix it once I deal with my starving stomach
Edit: Fix'd it.
Posted

Sorry if I went overboard with the introduction, I felt that I should do some sort of catching-up with the most recent events.
CLASSIFICATION: Regular

SUBJECT: Evaluation for transfer to 101st Tactical GEAR Unit "Roughriders" on Parvan's Claw Landcruiser

PERSONAL INFORMATION:
Name: Aidan Sykes
Ranks: First Lieutenant (0-2) (Achieved in 137th Ourvan Medical Corps)
Warrant Officer (W-1) (Achieved after GEAR Infantry Unit Training accomplishment)
Serial #: 45502917
Current Duty Post: 137th Ourvan Medical Corps
Status: 62A9B - Emergency Physician, Certified by OBMS (Ourvan Board of Medical Specialities)

SERVICE HISTORY - Excerpted; see details in Annex 1&2
1. Finished Military Academy of Ourvan
2. Finished superior studies: Officer training program - Military Medicine
3. Applied for 62A (Emergency Physician) sub-branch - Admitted
4. Finished superior studies: GEAR unit piloting program

EVALUATING OFFICER'S COMMENTS - See full log in Annex 3
Per Colonel Silverwind Blade's request, 137th OMC offers one of it's most talented officers: Lt. Aidan Sykes, a resounding success of the Medical Gear Unit Project. Highly-dedicated and exceptionally skilled in combat medicine, a medical emergency specialist and a talented GEAR pilot, Lt. Aidan Sykes would be ideally suited for medical support, as well as GEAR piloting duties.

"So, what do you think, Lieutenant?" asked a voice, piercing the silence.

"Flashy." Blurted the badlands shepherd as he skimmed through the pages of his transfer papers, his eyes darting between paragraphs. He tried his best not to show his revulsion towards the exceedingly pompous praises, at least, not in front of the major general leading the 137th. He wasn't necessarily against a transfer, so long he gets to more action, but it bothered him that he was treat like he was some kind of child prodigy of sorts. He's just one guy who read a lot and slept very little through the last eight years of his life; but if this ridiculous portfolio would get him closer to the badlands, he could only embrace it.

"That's bureaucracy at its finest, Aidan. Colonel Blade wouldn't have refused to get a snotty corpsman in his squad of misfits, but I wanted to give him the real stuff: a lieutenant capable to pilot one of those walking coffins... GEARs, or what have you, and also a true emergency physician with a fresh certification from OBMS. Now, listen, kid-" the bear outfitted in a pristine uniform bearing many medical-related insignia extended his right arm and flexed his palm twice, urging Aidan to give the dossier back. The shepherd could only comply, handling transfer papers after he neatly closed the transparent protective cover back to his superior. "I want you to be an example to look up to. You'll end up in a smelly landcruiser, enclosed with a knuckle-dragging bunch of people; you will be that one person in the whole crawling box of metal that will show proper education, that will keep his cool when everything crumbles down around you. They may start to hate you for it, they'll push you away and try to shake you off the vehicle, but that's the proof that you are doing a good job; yes, believe me, if everybody loves you, it means you're doing something wrong. I don't want to hear that one of the only fifty certified GEAR pilot-doctor becomes an uncouth, mouth-breathing commoner. You may be a very detached person, Aidan, but once you face the constant fear of death, you WILL change.Towards better, hopefully."

I was raised in death thought Aidan, but he wouldn't dare saying that out loud, not after such a sour speech that left the air in the general's office tense and thick. Clearly, the man was talking from experience - his own experience; of course, that wouldn't mean Aidan would have to go through the same ordeals, the same changes as this bear did. Aidan decided not to give it too much thought and let things occur naturally, he'll deal with such events when the time will arrive. For now, Aidan saluted the general and offered his thanks before he left to continue with his duties: yet another wounded infantryman that mistook his leg for a pistol training target. Lucky enough, the 137th was placed close enough to see some real combat wounds; sure, the locals took advantage of their presence and free consultations, minor surgeries and vaccines, but there was enough work for Aidan to keep him busy, if not thoroughly happy. Among gunshot wounds, broken limbs, suicidal attempts and dehydration, he'd also face civilians with the same problems, though most of them would show up with common flu, cardiac arrest, children with inhaled/swallowed objects and a plethora of old people accusing back pains and poor eyesight. A fresh start would put him a better mood, surely.

He did have to wait for two weeks, though, thanks to his complicated situation. Being part of an experimental program, anything that included handling paperwork would be a proper mess, hence his GEAR arrived to the landcruiser before him; but, finally, the time of his departure arrived, so he packed up his personal stuff, double checked the DATMK for any missing instrument and set off for his transport, a cargo plane. He would be dropped off at an airbase near Parvan's Claw position along with some cargo containing medical supplies, mainly. None of his colleagues knew of the transfer, no one showed up to give him a proper good-bye; Aidan didn't attach himself to those people and, in a way, he's glad he didn't. He would miss them during his time with the 101st and he certainly couldn't impair his own judgment with such strong emotions; on top of that, he knew that he had eyes on him, his every mistake would be counted as major failures. On his relatively long travel, Aidan started to read the medical histories of each and every 101st member and associate names with profile pictures and any interesting details mentioned in those files; on the side, he made a quick list of the entire squad on his PADD with everything he thought to be noteworthy.

Fifteen people:

Silverwind - Red fox - Bears a prosthetic arm, check for ghost limb pains

Irry - Red Panda - Watch for any stress/work-induced cephalalgia

Raisa - Corsac Fox - Possible carrier of dysfunctional genes, has a crippled brother

Michael - Tiger (Black and Grey fur pattern) - Tanky build, might be difficult to identify some symptoms

Oliver - Tiger (Normal fur pattern) - Known for drug abuse and sexual harassment

Shona - Bat - Recommend regular ophthalmological exams, photophobic

Adrian - Hare - Watch for cardiac problems

Amelia - Red Fox - Susceptible to vibration sickness

Myrina - Goat - Nothing particular found, keep watching

Kesington - Wolf - Watch for any issue that conflicts with helicopter pilot medical sheets

Venessa - Snow Leopard - Watch for any chest trauma that may cause breast cancer

Esailia - Feline - Extreme risk of combat trauma, be on full alert on the field

There were three more people, Nathaniel, Edward and Naida, but Aidan couldn't find any medical records on them yet; upsetting, really, but maybe they were new recruits also. He will have to discuss this with the colonel. That aside, he found this bunch of people quite interesting and varied: 9 GEAR pilots, an ATAM pilot, a chopper pilot and a strike team. A lot of people to manage for one medic, but he couldn't complain all that much at this point. He re-read their histories over and over until he hard-wired the names and the profile pictures until he could easily recite them in his mind; after all, he will have to effectively differentiate one from another, along with their medical issues. On the final approach to Parvan's Claw, Aidan started to read the sipping manifest of all the medical supplies carried by the trucks, trying to remember what effects each and every substance had. At some point, the bored driver tried somehow to break the ice, his rather silent and overly studious trip companion might just have something interesting to say.

"Ya know, if you keep reading that shippin' manifest, those drugs won't change inta' beer."

Aidan thinned his lips and glanced at the driver over the upper rim of his sunglasses and gave him an "Are you shitting me?" look. He adjusted his glasses back up on his snout and continued reading. The driver, not satisfied with the response, pressed the conversation on.

"You must be that doctor pilot them 'Riders requisitioned. Shit, dude, these guys are reckless on the field, I heard, the colonel's got some crazy moves with 'dem GEARs. No wonder they needed someone to patch their shit up after every job on the field, the infirmary can't handle that much hurt. Reminds me of that one time when the landcruiser got inta-" And just as the driving skunk mentioned the landcruiser, Aidan peered over his PADD and into the near distance, where he could easily spot the massive carrier growing in size as they continued their approach; it wasn't the first time he peered at such a gargantuan hunk of metal, but he wasn't sure if it was the same landcruiser he saw several years ago. Pretty sure the other one wasn't as battered as this one. The ride finally came to an end, Aidan hopped out of the truck with two duffel bags strapped on his back and the PADD in his right hand. He was wearing a green, short sleeve linen shirt bearing the Star of Life on his right shoulder, a pair of cargo pants, a pair of desert combat boots, his sunglasses and a watch strapped tightly on his left wrist; one of the bags was green and slightly smaller in size, while the other one was quite encumbering and colored in bright red, "decorated" with powerful black straps and two caduceus symbols stenciled on the fabric. The driver shouted his final regards towards the medic, which in return turned around just enough to wave goodbye to the rather noisy skunk. After a quick security check, the shepherd was admitted on the landcruiser, and his first experience of walking inside such a piece of engineering was impressive: it was a hive, people running from one place to another, everybody was busy with just about anything, away from the scorching sun. He was glad the the cruiser had air conditioning, even though there may be an increased risk of forming an allergic rhinitis; nothing he couldn't quickly solve, of course. As he walked past the GEAR bay, he couldn't help but to notice that the bay was mostly empty, save for his own stumpy Dartwing, the ATAM and one Sul-type GEAR. Unfortunately, he couldn't loiter around for too long, he had to leave his bags in his new room and meet the colonel on the common room, where a party will be thrown. Or so he heard from the driver. The pilots would be returning from a drill of sorts, so it was a perfect occasion to observe his new colleagues and note down their behavior, maybe have them accustomed to their medic. After he followed a series of instructions on his PADD, he found his cramped room in no time and dropped his bags on the bed and immediately left for the common room.

Once there, he noticed that he arrived earlier than he should have; but it wasn't a problem, Aiden loved being punctual. He had noticed that, at some point, four people popped out of nowhere: a cat, a tiger and two foxes. The cat seemed to fret over something, the tiger was the precise opposite; as for the two foxes, Aidan could swear they were related in some way. That's when he realized it was that strike team, waiting for the colonel to pop out of nowhere. Instead of engaging in a conversation with the group, he chose to lay against a wall, bring up his PADD and start noting down some more info based on his observations, the first thing he wrote down was to requisition oral or intravenous fructose; at this rate, Nathaniel will replace the entirety of his blood plasma with ethanol. Noticing that couldn't see much in the room due to his sunglasses, Aidan took the off and inserted the pair in a front pocket of the shirt and not a moment too soon, he heard captain Esailia ordering her troops to fall in line. The shepherd pushed himself away from the wall and joined the newcomers, carefully placing himself behind them. Judging by the rather obvious augmentation, Aidan quickly recognized the older fox as the colonel, his new superior. He seemed to be slightly taller than in his profile picture. Aidan patiently listened to the colonel's little speech, with the added "interruption" of... Michael? No, Michael's fur pattern is whiter, this one must be Oliver he thought to himself. A first impression of the Roughriders? Informal. Verily so. One of the pilots just barges in the speech and calls the recruits for a beer and the colonel keeps talking. Or, maybe Aidan was too used with the choking strictness 137th practiced. Once the fox finished the speech, Aidan found himself a small window to approach the fox and salute the man properly.

"First Lieutenant Aidan Sykes, 62A9B and support-type GEAR pilot of 137th Ourvan Medical Corps, sir. I must thank you for the transfer offer, I was growing tired of pulling coins out of children's throat back at our base." Once he was given the "at ease", Aidan adopted a more relaxed pose, so to blend in with the general nonchalance of the unit. "I'll be acting as your squad's combat and non-combat physician, I will always be open for any kinds of consultations, examinations and medical procedures. Should we have to endure a longer skirmish, I am also capable of offering psychological advice and support, though I'd still recommend the local shrink if we're stuck on Parvan's Claw. I am also qualified to give sexual health advice and instruments, but I'll leave that matter aside until someone needs my help with that delicate issue. Aidan caught his breath, trying to think of anything else he had to add while listening to Blade's reply, nodding his head and smiling cordially. "And if at any moment you notice ghost pains in your artificial limb, please, report it urgently. Such matters are not to be ignored, but I am sure you would know better than to suffer, sir."

Once dismissed, the canine quickly found himself a place at the bar and, although he would love to enjoy a beer himself after being exposed to the heat outside, he felt he needed to remain focused and clear-headed. He wouldn't be too surprised to find himself giving fructose or sucrose injections to half of the crew on the landcruiser. Instead, he pulled out his PADD to recheck the status on the medical history of the three remaining members of the squad; maybe, just maybe the info will be updated today. Raising his head from time to time away from the screen, he would look around for any other members of the Roughriders, quickly spotting Kesington, the helicopter pilot. He still had to wait for the rest of the crew to pour in and maybe, just maybe, try to blend in with the crowd, try not to look too much like a new guy; not that he cared too much about how people perceived him, but he would hate to start answering more questions than he'd like to.
I edited my CS, I forgot to add a certain component in Aidan's trauma management kit.

I hope everyone had a nice weekend and, even though I'm late to the party, have a nice flight/stay in China, Aristo!
Welp. That is an accurate depiction of FA.
Have you ever tried to tell katana enthusiasts that their praised weapon is a simple sword? Hilarity guaranteed
@Rafale Here ya go, knock yourself out!

Funtimes ahead
@Cart Aye, I noticed that. In a way, it's good that they try to provide some sort of protection; that character was clearly designed for someone in particular, but hey, they should feel flattered that we also like the artwork. I'll fix it.

But, hey, thanks for the heads-up!

@SIlver Strype is one of my favorite artists ever, I love the level of detail he puts in his works and his style. But, hey, it's expected for that kind of stuff to happen, it's not like you can put an end to it with a witty piece of art with a wolfgirl wearing said t-shirt. It didn't stop one dude to use that character on a yiffing thread, after all. He was either dumb or a massive troll.
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