Veronica: Aegis I
>At this point, a quick death would be a blessing. It'd put her out of her misery.
Dusk settled over the savanna.
Epirus, once a jewel among the Golden Age's nature reserves, is now nothing but a forgotten dust bowl.
Two spotted hyenas, up to their eyeballs in a gruesome feast, ravenously tear into the remains of a lioness. Her hide is peeled right off, and the untouched bits of her carcass bear the tell-tale signs of clean, precise cuts—this is no act of nature.
A distant howl from their kin cuts through the air, a clear signal to hustle and rejoin the migrating pack.
Crackle.
It's the sound of grass stems snapping. Every inch of cold, hard metal pushing forward makes the wild grasses bend and break. Nature itself is groveling under the iron heel of something man-made, letting out a quiet sigh of surrender.
The spotted hyenas flinch, their gut screaming danger. Without missing a beat, they bolt.
...
Her eyes, cold as ice, take it all in without a flicker. The grand sweep of the landscape, the brutal give and take of life and death—nothing stirs her. In the silent ruins of humanity's downfall, an even stranger visitor has finally shown up after a long time away.
I'm at Epirus savanna. Looks like our comms are getting jammed. Zavier, if you're getting this, give me the go-ahead or tell me to stand down—
(Tail trembling)...
...
Veronica doesn't even drop her chin; she just swivels her eyes with an icy stare. From her lofty perch, she spots it: a tail, no more than a dry stick, quivering ever so slightly in the tall grass. A scrawny, tiny lion cub lies on its side, already in death's cold embrace, surrounded by a cloud of buzzing flies and mosquitoes.
(Tail trembling)...
A crackle of static breaks through her comms. Veronica barely tilts her head, her gaze instantly snapping away from the dying cub as she fiddles with the frequency.
Grrr...
At this point, a quick death would be a blessing. It'd put it out of its misery.
She turns to leave, her attention already back on her message. The cub struggles to open its eyes, a silent plea in its gaze, but Veronica doesn't miss a beat.
Raawr...
The cub's desperate plea is no louder than the hum of the insects around it, and certainly not enough to halt Veronica's retreating footsteps.
Raawr...
Raawr... Raawr...
The little cub is on its last legs, barely able to let out a whimper for survival, even though Veronica is long gone.
It clings to life by a thread, fighting tooth and nail.
The last vestiges of daylight are fading as the sun dips below the horizon. The rustling in the grass picks up again, signaling something moving through the tall stalks. It stops right in front of the dying cub.
This is annoying.
Grrr...
As long as the memories are there, mechanical life never truly dies. Flesh and blood, though? It can be wiped out in a blink.
Is that the reason?
Is it because you've only got one shot at life? Whether it was Serra or Alexei, the way you all fought tooth and nail before croaking really...
Veronica, who usually doesn't show an ounce of emotion, actually knits her brows, mulling it over for a moment.
Really got under my skin.
She drops her gaze, looking down at the dying lion cub at her feet.
Night creeps over the sweeping savanna.
Babylonia
Star of Life
48 hours earlier
Star of Life, Babylonia, 48 hours ago.
Most of your vitals are looking up, but I still wouldn't greenlight you for any high-risk, high-difficulty missions just yet. Best to really lean into this recovery period. It'll do wonders for those hidden aches and lingering issues.
Getting a bit antsy with the hospital grub, aren't we? I heard you jumped into combat medical training yesterday and even played a role in the demonstrations?
You're kidding, right? Folks who didn't even sign up for the training were there to catch a glimpse. You're the Gray Raven Commandant, after all—a real rockstar around these parts.
The nurse gives a playful wink.
Just hang tight a little longer. If you're itching for something to do, we've got a whole slew of other lectures and training sessions. With you in the room, our attendance numbers would go through the roof, haha!
Just focus on recovery, Commandant. It's perfectly fine to kick back and enjoy the quiet life every now and then.
No sooner have the words hung in the air than the peaceful moment is shattered by the rumble of gurneys hurtling down the hallway.
Several zip by, when suddenly, the patient on the last one shoots bolt upright, grabbing the rails. Even the old-hand medical staff are caught flat-footed before they can get him to lie back down.
Commandant!
Nice to meet you! Wow, I can't believe I'm seeing the Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh...
Sorry, sorry, I'm just a bit too hyped up. Our leader used to joke that the Star of Life just randomly throws opportunities your way to meet you. Hahaha, can't believe it's actually true!
At the mention of his boss, the patient's face falls a mile long.
Oh no... I'm toast. The leader must have heard by now... I bit off more than I could chew and now the ground mission team is down a man this afternoon. I'm so dead, so dead... The leader is definitely going to rip me a new one...
Then again, it's just a basic ruins recovery mission... hopefully I won't get chewed out too badly...
That's right. This time we're making a beeline for the research facility ruins in what used to be the Epirus Nature Reserve. Our mission is to get our hands on some crucial conservation and research data and bring it back home to Babylonia. All in all, it should be a pretty easy ground mission.
I've actually caught wind from the researchers that the Science Council is apparently gearing up to kickstart some Golden Age research that got put on ice—stuff about rare diseases and specialized treatments. They're slowly but surely digging up related botanical and zoological research materials.
Yeah, that's it exactly. Our leader also dropped a hint that these materials could lay the groundwork for ecosystem restoration and even help us ramp up food production through a bunch of different avenues.
Well, in that case, this mission might be a walk in the park, but it certainly packs a punch... though I'd still say you've got a good talking-to coming your way.
Nature reserves—a relic of a bygone era, really. After the Punishing Virus swept through the world, it was all hands on deck for survival. Ecological preservation, along with cultural advancements, just got filed away in humanity's long to-do list.
But where there's a human, there's a way. No matter how difficult, humanity always creates cultures that are unique to their times. As for ecology... With barely a patch of green left, conservation becomes a moot point.
Commandant?
Even though you could join low-risk missions while you're on the mend, there's really no need to—
The medical staff's next words catch in their throats. After all, the Commandant standing before them is never one to shy away from a bit of derring-do.
Calling recovery boring—that's an exaggeration! You really are someone who can't sit still, aren't you?
But you seem to have... a special knack for making mountains out of molehills.
Anyway, I can't really hold you back, can I?
Huh, really? You're actually going to step into my shoes for this mission?
Awesome! Then let's—pass the torch!
The wounded person raised his fist, so thickly wrapped in bandages it resembled a ball.
The bandaged knuckles meet the tactical glove with a clean, decisive thud.
A warm breeze meanders through the tall grass in front of the nature reserve's research facility, then sweeps over the mission crew as they carefully move scientific specimens from the ruins.
Gray Raven Commandant, it's a real honor to wrap up this ground mission with you.
We've got all the research data backed up. Let us take care of the specimen inventory from here. Since you're still on the mend, would you like to head back to Babylonia ahead of us?
Such dedication—that's just par for the course with you, Commandant.
The Construct Captain breaks into a grin, and their hearty laughter startles a few blue-bellied starlings, sending them flapping their wings as they soar towards the horizon. The savanna sky stretches out forever, yet feels close enough to touch, its low horizon making it seem like you could just reach out and touch it.
This feels amazing. Being in a place like this... it truly makes me feel grounded. Earth really is our home.
You find it beautiful too, don't you? In that case, would you mind taking point on the perimeter while we wrap up inventory?
There's a cheerful chuckle in the Construct Captain's voice.
It'd be a crying shame to waste your precious recovery time. Think of it as a little nature therapy instead.
Blue-bellied starlings perch on acacia branches, etched against the sunset painting the Epirus savanna. Like something out of a dream, the birds preen their feathers without a care in the world, every now and then letting out cheerful chirps.
Without even realizing it, you've gone off the beaten path, pulled in by the siren call of these wild melodies. You adjust the facial plate of your power armor and hit pause, soaking in this rare moment of calm.
Rawr...
In the shade of an acacia tree, a weak lion cub lies tucked away in the tall grass.
Around it, granite lies smashed to bits, strewn across the ground. The only piece that's been somewhat tamed is the one right by the cub, crudely hammered into a shallow dip that's barely holding a whisper of water. It's clearly the lone bright spot in a string of botched jobs.
What's even more bizarre is the slab of raw meat just sitting there, bold as brass. Someone bothered to skin it, but it's plain as day that it's way too tough for a cub's baby teeth to even make a dent in.
The poor little guy is plainly under the weather. Your heart sinks as you check its ear tips and paw pads, confirming your worries when they feel abnormally cold.
When you gently pinch its fur, its skin is slow to spring back. Its dry nose and sunken eyes are all red flags, telling you this cub hasn't had a decent meal for ages.
Grrr...
Sensing you're on its side, the cub's round, black eyes lock onto mine. It tentatively licks the hand petting it, then tilts its head, as if sizing you up. Once it's sure you're no threat, it softly nuzzles your palm.
From the feel of its tongue against your hand, it's clear its mouth is as dry as a bone too.
You fish out a nutritional solution from your supply pack and pour a bit into your palm.
!!!!!!
The cub gives a tentative lick or two, then its eyes go wide as saucers. It immediately starts letting out little roars, practically begging for more.
Once you're sure it can swallow without a hitch, you pour more of the solution into your palm.
Whoosh—
A lance cuts through the air, its wicked whistle making your ears ring.
But before the sound even registers, an odd change in the air against your back sets your muscles on high alert, kicking your defenses into gear. You dodge to the side, just missing the deadly shot.
Before you can even get a look at your attacker, a deep, rumbling hum hits you from right behind. You spin around, your armor snapping into place over your arm just in time to block a sweeping lance.
Clang!
The force of the impact ruffles Veronica's hair, revealing her cold, stern face and a pair of eyes that can curdle milk.
Her face doesn't ring a bell, but your body remembers that unmistakable, bone-chilling killing intent—the very same you'd felt in the icy depths of Aerospace City. Some things, your body just never forgets.
You're just everywhere, aren't you? I can't believe our paths would cross even in the back of beyond like this.
You quickly duck behind the acacia tree, making sure you're not an easy target before trying to talk to this "ghost from your past."
What? Did you think you could just kick it while it was down, seeing as it had no one to stick up for it?
Caring? I suppose that skinned lioness carcass over there is your idea of "caring," isn't it?
Skinning and butchering—that's clearly human work, but there's no one else around. I was just wondering...
Hmph. Going by your moves just now, you're certainly no slouch when it comes to staying out of sight.
I just can't wrap my head around it, the human mind. Why on earth do you get your kicks from torture? Machines, animals, even your own flesh and blood... anything's fair game for your cruelty.
Fear, terror, suffering—that's all that lights your fire!
Purrrrrr—
Meanwhile, as the two square off, the lion cub has sniffed out the nutrient pack tossed into the grass and is guzzling it down, even managing to let out happy little purrs between gulps.
...
Veronica keeps her lips sealed, but the sudden ice in her glare makes it clear she doesn't take kindly to being accused of neglecting the cub.
Mrrrrp—
Before Veronica can even get a word in, the little cub, which has been feeding just moments before, lets out a pained whimper and suddenly keels over.
Your heart sinks, and a knot forms in your stomach as you dash out from behind the acacia tree. But before you could reach it, a lance whizzes through the air, cutting off your path.
What did you do?!
You crouch beside the lion cub, and your worst fears are confirmed: it's not breathing, completely still, no response to anything.
What is it?
You can't help but kick yourself. That nutritional solution is only meant for combat emergency rations—it never crossed your mind it would be too much for the cub's delicate system.
Even though you know human CPR like the back of your hand, you've never formally learned animal emergency procedures. Luckily, you've recently skimmed through some research facility documents that have exactly the information you need.
You lay the lion cub on its side and, going by the book, find the chest cavity right below the elbow.
The instant your hand hits the spot, you feel something cold against your neck. Without looking back, you know there's a lance pointed right at your throat.
You seriously think I don't know where a mammal's heart is?
Did you honestly believe I'd just stand by and let you finish it off right in front of me?
It is the first time Veronica has ever heard such unshakeable, cold resolve in the human's voice since they've crossed paths.
A plate of armor silently shimmers into existence around the human's neck, grating against the hovering lance tip with a harsh, ear-splitting screech.
The lion cub lies out cold on the ground, barely stirring, its only signs of life due to the human's relentless efforts to bring it back.
Veronica has been warned before; it's not new to her. Anyone who thinks they can strong-arm her into submission has, without fail, ended up eating dirt under her lance.
But something in this human's eyes makes her pump the brakes. It's not malice she sees, but something else—something that, for reasons she can't quite put her finger on, makes Veronica hold her horses.
A distant rumble of thunder rolls, and a fine drizzle begins to kiss the savanna. Through the gentle rain, the human keeps at it, methodically performing CPR on the lion cub, one hand rhythmically pressing its side, the other delivering rescue breaths with practiced precision.
...
She lowers her weapon.
Connection? Do you take me for a fool? Do you really think I'm as gullible as everyone else, someone who can be sweet-talked and put on a leash like a dog?
I couldn't care less about anything to do with you. Just focus on what you need to do.
Cough—
With a feeble cough, the lion cub finally regains its heartbeat and breathing. Under Veronica's scrutinizing gaze, you retrieve a syringe from your first aid kit.
Humans?
Under Veronica's watchful eye, you slowly administer the injection to the lion cub.
What is CPR?
As the lion cub's breathing gradually stabilizes, you reach out to stroke its fuzzy ears, a playful smile on your face.
Can we... even keep this thing alive with just this?
Thinking of something, you face Veronica, who has just piped up. She's been keeping her distance ever since you saved the cub, and now her face is shrouded in shadow.
Just then, the little lion cub comes to, weakly flopping in your arms. It barely has the strength to lift its paws, but its nose twitches like crazy until it catches a whiff of something good. With a soft whimper, it starts to lap at the nutritional solution.
You mammals really go all out just to stay alive a little longer.
You feel the jab and gently flick the cub's forehead, a little punishment for embarrassing the entire mammalian class.
Grrrr—!
The rain begins to come down in sheets as night falls over the savanna.
