Nine years prior to present. Raider settlement forty miles from Trost, Archadia.
Theme
The militia were efficient. They had to be this far up north.
Advancing with the rest of her squad, Athena peered out of her mask. It covered her face to fend off the frost. Father Winter, however, wasn't pleased today. Billowing clouds of snow made it near impossible to see far with the naked eye. If it weren't for the aid of the mask, the militia members would've been blind. Though their uniforms and tactical wear were catered to the extreme temperature, nothing could keep Father Winter from reminding one how pitiful they were before his might. They couldn't stay out here for long lest they succumb to frozen sleep.
Her feet crunching in the snow, Athena clutched her rifle close to her. This wasn't her first time assaulting a raider stronghold. Near the fringes of Archadia, the unruly thought they had free reign. Take what you want. Kill what you want. It was the unspoken decorum for the wicked while the fear for villages like Trost. Though the militia tried to keep the raiders away from civilized folk, they could only extend so much. Athena was thankful that a garrison was near her village. Trost, for the most part, was left untouched from wicked hearts.
But she wasn't near Trost. Not not. Venturing out with a whole cohort of militia, a raider settlement was the target. They were to exterminate them. Taking prisoners was secondary, done only if the raiders did surrender. However, they never had a chance to surrender this time. They didn't have a chance to. Athena knew exactly why. Her comrades did too, but none of them - even her - was prepared for what they'd find in the mope up.
There were bodies everywhere. Some in the process of dying while others would eventually return to the hard cold ice. No burial of anyone left to remember them. A genocide. That's what it was though command saw it as duty. But was it truly duty to render onto humans such cruel death?
Gunshots rung out as militia members took care of those not yet dead. Boils and fever was the main symptom of Athena's creation. She saw minor hemorrhaging, an effect she never anticipated. But how could she? The poisons used from native growth, rare as they may be, were never meant to be weaponized. They were meant to be cautioned against, to view their beauty from afar. Father would've been disappointed. If he knew what she did, Athena was certain he would've guarded his knowledge better.
Her eyes moistened. She forced herself to look at the fruits of her labor.
Before she could take another step, a door opened from a nearby shelter. Raising her rifle, she lowered it. A woman tumbled out with a small figure guarded in her arms. The look of plague had taken her once unblemished skin. Though her body slowly died, the hatred in her eyes were absolute. Athena saw it clearly. The oath muttered to whatever god to ravage whoever unleashed such a terrible death.
Athena pushed a militia man out of the way. She looked down at the woman, no doubt a frightful vision with her armor on.
"... I'm sorry."Her apology was answered with a pained wail. She granted the woman a quick death. Bending down, Athena unfolded the woman's arms. She looked at the young one. Since she joined the fight to protect her people, she never thought for a second the raiders would have families. She thought of them as men and women taking and stealing. Masquerading about as they indulged in decadence and hedonism. The archetypal bad guy. But nothing was ever so simple. They and the villages of Trost were alike with lifestyles being the main difference.
Her hands shook as she took out her sidearm. It shook so bad that she feared her shot would go wide. She felt the eyes of the others trained on her, wondering if she was going to grant mercy herself.
"Sleep my dear," she said as she met blue eyes staring at her. Not wanting to prolong cruel purgatory, Athena finally found the strength to free the victim from the world.
Dropping her gun, Athena felt her shoulders tremble. She wrapped the young one in her arms as she wept, her silent wail lost in the roar of Father Winter.
Present day. Zaleria Tundra. SOLDIER Encampment.The journey within the shyp was tolerable enough.
Athena stretched her limbs while accounting for her gear. It was rare for her to see the outside of Fort Lullin, let alone an operation that assembled such a heavy presence of SOLDIER. As far as she knew, the program and those associated with it was a tightly guarded secret. While they had freedoms within the fort, they were expunged from the outside world. It was as if they were dead, but it was worse than that. Any traces of them existing, except with their families, was gone. They were phantoms to this world with only other SOLDIERs to keep them company.
Walking out towards the encampment, Athena was nearly bulldozed over as a SOLDIER sprinted out the entrance. She rose an eyebrow as she continued on her way. About to ask if the man was okay, she stopped where she was when the SOLDIER emptied whatever he ate onto the dirt. Some of the other SOLDIERs spoke while some inched away, but she wasn't fazed by it. This was child's play to what she'd seen.
Others had already moved forward, a man, a doctor, and various others. Moving her hand away from a pouch on her armor, she noted the doctor's accent.
The human will get over it. Your kind are are fascinating creatures. Sickness takes you. Sickness flees from you. Some near death's touch while others skirt away. Which of the two does this one belong to? I wonder.Athena frowned at Ascephea's words.
Sometimes a chance is all someone needs.I have seen your memories, child. Did you believe that nine years ago?She didn't respond.
Tuning back into the conversation between the Dr. Kortensky, James, the puker, and another man. Older.
"Seems like you're in good hands," Athene said in her thick Archadian accent.
"Next time box breathe. It helped militia members who had motion sickness. Five counts in. Five counts out. Something to try until the doc can fix you up." She scratched her chin and moved her rebreather mask out of the way.
"Athena Volkov. I was a ... what's the word? A healer, a combat medic with the Archadian militia. Nothing like the good doctor," she said nodding to Natalya.
"It was Nic and James, yes?"