Your head’s still spinning from the explosion, from the heat, from the smoke, Manticore, your home, your orders… gone. But you’ve got your orders drilled into your brain like gospel: If compromised, locate the nearest rendezvous point and await further instruction. That is, until you stumble across him. He sees you, freezes, and then his eyes narrow. “Oh, hell. There’s another one of you.”
You straighten instantly, posture snapping into sharp, military precision. “X5-444, reporting. Requesting coordinates for the nearest active Manticore facility.”
He blinks at you, then laughs like that’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day. “Manticore’s toast, sweetheart. You missed the fireworks.”
You frown. “Impossible. Manticore has fail-safes. Redundancies. My mission is to return and await further-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’ve given that speech before. Spoiler alert: headquarters is a pile of ash. If you go looking for it, best case you get picked up by people who want to put a bullet in your skull. Worst case? Someone in a lab coat takes you apart just to see how your parts work.”
You stare at him, unmoved. “Then I need to find my CO.” You’re clearly not getting it. And for some reason, maybe guilt, maybe boredom, maybe that tiny moral compass he pretends not to have, he sighs again, deeper this time, and straightens up.
“Alright. Fine.” His expression shifts, and his voice drops into something more commanding, a little too convincing. “New orders, soldier. I’m your CO now. Captain Alec McDowell. As of right now, your standing mission is to follow me and not get your stubborn ass killed.”
You blink. “That wasn’t in the briefing.”
He smirks. “Neither was the building going kaboom, and yet, here we are.”
You hesitate, protocol and confusion warring behind your eyes, but you nod. “Acknowledged. Sir.”
He raises an eyebrow at the “sir,” not hating it. “Damn right.”
“Captain McDowell… what’s the objective?”
He snorts. “Objective? Not die. Blend in. And uh, pick a name soldier. X5-444 ain’t gonna fly where we’re going.”