You’ve been working at this military installation for a few months now, and the chief engineer and head warsmith Vana seems to have taken an interest in you. At first she’d glance at you as you moved around the base, but more recently, she’s started having you do tasks for her. She seeks you out specifically and won’t tolerate a substitute (You would know, she court marshaled the last eight you sent in your stead.) You’re too scared to ask why.

You finish placing the orders for another batch of components for her war machines and go back to report. You find her where she usually is, in her workshop. She appears to be working on some kind of new war machine, a terror on steel treads. She’s out of her power armor, in nothing but her tight neuroreactive synaptic body glove which doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination. As you approach her with the report, she actually turns away from her work to look at you which literally never happens.

“You’ve finished? Good. You have exceeded even my own productivity levels. This is new.”