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His father was an engineer onboard a freighter flying less than legit goods between various ports of call in and outside Federation Space. Baile spent as much time away from his parents as possible since his mother pretty much blamed him for her getting beat up all the time and his father beat him up for just being there. In other words - not the happiest of upbringings. Everything has an end and Baile's hell ended when the freighter tried to outrun a Federation patrol. Both of his parents were sent to a penal colony, sentenced to 30 years each. The young child was placed in a foster home after a few weeks.
He was a restless young man with memories of daily beatings still fresh in his mind. Baile soon discovered how physical training would allow him to focus on other things than his past. At the age of thirteen he took up two things - running and thai-boxing.
The kid was a lot more of a athletic talent than an academic and while his studies went less than well, his skill in thai-boxing went more than well. But deep down he felt very insecure about who he was and his place in the world. At the age of sixteen he entered his first illegal bare knuckled shootfight and got the snot beaten out of him. But for a glorious few seconds the world around him was forgotten. The troubles of the past was gone. It was only him, the ring and his opponent.
Shootfighting, especially bare knuckled, was very different from what he had learned earlier. It was rougher, dirtier, almost anything was allowed. He won some matches, lost others, but the feeling of wanting more never went away. Then one day, in the school he found so annoying, he listened to a recruiter from the Marine Corps and finally he had found something that would give him meaning. Something that would let him contribute to society in his own way. He was no scientist, no engineer that could build spaceships. But he was in excellent physical condition and an attitude of never give up.
Baile was not number one in his class or the best at shooting or fighting. But he was a team player. He gave everything for the team, always supporting the CO even if he felt might not have been the best way or best solution to a problem.
At times his temper got him into trouble, but other than a reprimand or two and the occasional penalty runs around the assault course he finished the Marine training, proud of what he had accomplished and so were his foster family.
Shortly after graduation he got assigned to Earth and soon realized he had a lot to learn. Real life combat was even more intense than he had first thought, but again those rare moments of total mental freedom returned to him. Marines can be found in all shapes and sizes, and Baile was no exception. He was never really comfortable around people, preferring to scout the hostile areas on his own - him, the enemy and the operating theatre. Same fighting - different ring.
Three years passed and Baile applied for special operations training. He was probably more surprised than anyone else when he got accepted. The training was unlike anything he could have ever imagined. There's a hundred different stories for every special operative there is, but none of them came close to the real deal. The young man, who had already begun to get noticed as a skilled scout and pointman, sharpened those skills even further. Few people that graduated from ASOS in 2369 could move as silently and with the amount of stealth he could, regardless of terrain.
Shortly after graduation from ASOS Baile was assigned to his first special ops unit. A unit where he learned once more how little he really knew. He was a skilled marksman, a competent demolitionist, knew how to hold his own against an opponent in hand to hand, had the knowledge to patch up wounds, but compared to these veterans he was once more the freshman that stepped off the shuttle on Mars. Except for the one thing they had requested him for - his skills as a scout.
For the next three years he truly learned the tricks of the trade, being shipped back and forth with his unit to combat whatever threat had been deemed to dangerous for the Starfleet to handle. But at the same time he started getting bitter at Starfleet, bitter at the at times senseless killings they had to do. He wanted to know why they, the elite of the elite, got sent in against enemies a freshly graduated security team could have handled in their sleep. By now the kill score had begun to rack up, and even though he was not a designated sniper or support, he killed with uncomfortable ease and skill more times than he cared to remember. Enemies became nothing but walking bodybags that got in their way.
With the Dominion War crashing down on the weakened Federation, Baile got transferred to a Special Ops team that had just lost their scout. The Crows. Renowned within Intel for their success rate and extreme decisiveness and unknown to the masses. The Crows, or Bravo Squad, led by Marine Captain Caileb Smiths, a man sprung from the forges of hell and twice as tough as the devil himself.
The time spent in Bravo Squad is about as classified as it gets. But looking at the reprimands in his service record it is easy to see just why Bravo Squad got disbanded in 2380 by the Field Marshal himself. Between 2373 and 2380, the team did more than 150 missions, losing only one man, but their methods was highly ethically questionable. Rumours about torture, assassination of none-mission objects, theft, even murder finally defeated the team in a way the enemy never had been able to. The Crows got shipped out to all corners of the Federation with the hopes that their skills would inspire others, but that they wouldn't be able to carry on with their extracurricular activities.
His father was an engineer onboard a freighter flying less than legit goods between various ports of call in and outside Federation Space. Baile spent as much time away from his parents as possible since his mother pretty much blamed him for her getting beat up all the time and his father beat him up for just being there. In other words - not the happiest of upbringings. Everything has an end and Baile's hell ended when the freighter tried to outrun a Federation patrol. Both of his parents were sent to a penal colony, sentenced to 30 years each. The young child was placed in a foster home after a few weeks.
He's a street smart man with a cynical frame of mind who struggles to still believe in the Federation. Getting separated from his team and shipped to some chicken outfit instead of letting them do the good they did is pissing him off.
Baile is like most hardened Marine Special Ops veterans. It takes a lot to earn his respect and very little to loose it.
As fearless as Baile is on missions, just as much does he fear the moments when he's not. He's spent more than fifteen years in the Marines, and seven of those in Special Ops. He's been to hell, but never came back. He simply doesn't understand how to be a civilian. Killing is all he knows, all the Federation has ever wanted him to do. Relationships, everyday questions just doesn't exist in his world.
He has become one of those battle hardened veterans he once dreamt of, but had he known the price he would pay he would have walked away. As stated in his service record he's started more than his fair share of fights, but in his mind those are just to blow off steam. It doesn't matter if he wins or loose because for a few short moments all worries are gone and he's back in that ring, sixteen years old and the only thing that exists is he, the opponents and that ring.
On missions Baile is a totally different man. If he engages a man he will kill him. Plain and simple. It doesn't matter if its a man or a woman. They will die. Never leave a man or a woman behind that can pick up a weapon against you. That philosophy is partly what gave Crows their reputation. But to Baile it is justified. It's not kill or be killed. It's just part of the job.
The Crows, as deadly and skilled as they were, were barking up the wrong tree. They were completely loyal to the Federation, but believed the Federation rules of engagement to be too lax. They fought brilliantly, but with a cruelty that only grew over the years. But with that came a higher success rate than any other unit. That in turn made the brass look the other way. It became a bad circle. The Crows had too many connections and knew too much to be simply dismissed from Service, so the next best thing was to disband the Squad and reassign the members to new hot zones. Everyone involved realized that as tough as it was to disband a unit with an 92% success rate, the scandals that would eventually come out into the open if the unit was allowed to remain, would damage both the Marines and Starfleet extensively.
