Where: Common Area
When: A day after the first exploration
Sitting with their legs crossed on the couch, drinking an apple juicebox, Blue pondered about the first exploration team to leave the ship. Things hadnât gone exactly well for them but some positives had to be taken into consideration: no one had gotten killed or seriously injured and research was ready to begin. It wasnât much but it was something, it was the beginning of the mission they had been sent to do, a glimmer of hope for humanity or something.Â
Still, it bothers them. Having to stay behind and hearing how things went keeps them thinking of the things they couldâve done if they had been there. Like preventing an animal from getting. Humans? Blue wouldnât have minded much but the poor alien had done nothing wrong. It deserved to live. Next time, however, they would go and they would make sure to show the team how to deal with animals without using deadly force.Â
But that was the future, theyâd have time to think about that later. There would be other missions, other times to shine. They took another sip of their juice, finally coming back to the present, looking at the person that had just walked in.Â
RANK: tank
ALIAS: blue
AGE: 38 years old
EXPERIMENT: B1U3
PRONOUNS: they/them
LENGTH OF SERVICE: 20 years
IN DEPTH DATA-
mentions of amputation, experimentation in humans
It all starts in darkness, deep and terrifying darkness. You hear the beating of your heart in your ears and you are scared, so very scared. You are trapped under the rubble of a building, crying as you try to crawl out. Pure survival instinct, you are too young to even understand, you keep calling for your mamma but no one answers.Â
Death is deafening when you are the last survivor so you keep screaming, desperate to be heard, to be helped, squirming even if you can hardly move, even if digging your nails in the rocks and dirt makes no difference cause one of your legs is trapped under a chunk of what used to be the ceiling. You keep trying even if all you want to do is sleep, you keep trying even when your movement makes something shift and land on your arm, making you scream and cry in pain. You try until the dogs start barking and you are finally rescued.
You wake up to bright lights and a white ceiling, to a missing leg and a missing arm, you donât know where you are and it scares you. The panic makes the machine beeps faster, louder, calling the attention of the doctors in your care. They assure you that you are safe, that you are okay, that they will help you. They promise theyâll take care of you. They ask for your name but you donât answer, they ask for your parents names and you start crying uncontrollably. A sedative is injected into your IV and you fall asleep. There are no dreams, it comforts you.
The promise is kept, you are taken care off. They feed you, give you medicine, change your bandages, give you baths. You hear them discussing what to do with you, if no one has come asking for a missing kid, if no one has called the number given out on the news. Just a few more days, they always say. Someone will come.Â
And someone does. A man in a sweater, accompanied by a man in a suit. They were sent by The Company, to help the victims of the attack on the mall by people who cried revolution, damning capitalism and everyone participating on it as part of the problem. Bills were paid with bright smiles and photos but youâŠ.Oh, you were a different story. So young and with no one to call your own, The Company took interest in you, they didnât just pay your medical bills, they took you with them, assured they would take care of you better than any other hospital, they were there to save you and so, they did, without anyone opposing them, how could they? And so, you said goodbye to the doctors and nurses, made your way to a new home.Â
In The Company, your life began. You were given a room, sterile and simple with very few toys, a bed, a desk. They gave you a new robotic prosthetic for your arm and another one for your leg, metal tweaked to fit you just right, painfully attached to nerves, prototype after prototype until it was perfected, until you could move the metal as if it was your own flesh and bone. The training began soon after, they made you a fighter, better than any other. You were fast on your feet and stronger than what your small built mightâve suggested but still,Â
they werenât satisfied with the results. They wanted to push further, make you better. A human body, pushed to the limit of possibility. Your other arm, your other leg, replaced with robotic enhancements: stronger, faster, better. You were the pride and joy of the one that raised you, the soldier that they wanted you to be.Â
When you turned eighteen, you were sent to your very first mission and you were the success that you were expected to be. Your career doing what The Company demanded started with the right food and it went on. Wherever they send you, whatever orders you recieved, you did as you were told. You got acquainted with death and violence but you never lost the softness within your heart. You were always a lonely soul so it was hard to make friends, considering your field it was even harder so you made friends of animals and kept mostly to yourself.Â
In your success, you are praised. In your failures, you are punished. The missions pass and your prosthetics are adapted, made better. They make weapons and shields of your hands, make sure you have what you need at moments notice. Your legs are fast, they adapt to what you need, you become an asset for The Company, an investment, a weapon saved for the most important missions and so the assignment came: you were sent to Inferno X, placed on cryo sleep, ready to get woken up when needed. Your task was set and failure was not an option.
