<< BACK TO RS001 LOG ======================== ===TRANSMISSION BEGIN=== ====Logged as: Raya===== ====Date: 1714386685==== ======================== Thanks Sophos, my turn now! ... What? ... Of course I know how to use a comm! Now, grab a cup of Elanor tea and let me tell my story... My name is Raya. That is all I remember of my past, apart from the moment in which my childhood was abruptly taken from me. It all happened in the blink of an eye. I was blindfolded and thrown into a shuttle by what I later learned was a special unit of V.E.In soldiers. I do not remember anything of the trip. I only recall waking up, tied to what seemed to be a hospital bed, with some rusty wires taped onto my body. They told me they had miracolously saved me from Something and welcomed me into my new home. The only rule? You take your vitamins in the morining and don't ask questions. Questions are forbidden. They are the root of all rebellions, they say. Rebellions are bad. The only weapon against them is obedience. That is why they were training us to be soldiers. To be ready to defend ourselves, of course. It was only when one day I nearly choked on my morning pill, resulting in me spitting it on the ground - thankfully nobody noticed- that I started to regain the tinyiest bit of consciousness, just barely enough to make me realise that I was better off not taking them anymore. I would fake taking them and spit them as soon as I had the chance to. Once I had partially regained my ability to think, I developed the habit of roaming around at night. On That night, the night of my final awakening, I call it, I saw something I was not supposed to see. It was my trainers reviewing footage of their last mission. I still could not fully remember what they made us do when we were sent off for those missions. Then I learned it. We were killing unarmed civilians, begging us to have mercy. In that moment, everything I had done while brainwashed hit me like a space cruiser at full speed. I remembered everything. The faces, the guns, the blood. I gasped. So loudly my head trainer heard. I ran and we fought. I survived. He did not. He would always say I was the best of my class, even better than some instructors. I guess he was right. I lifted his lifeless face from the ground to open the exit portal and I ran away. My life from then on was harsh. The only job I was able to land, with no qualification aside from my military training, and my inability to stay calm for long periods of time, was the late night shift as a dancer at an underground club. I was unable to sleep anyways due to recurring nightmares, so it was perfect for me. The customers were sketchy, but as long as they were just looking, they were not harmful to me. Then, one day, a worn out pamphlet fell from a customer's pocket. It was an ad for NH17. It was the sign I had been waiting for. I’m sure you are wondering how we met! Well, I think I’ll go take a nap now, that is a story for another time… Hi Marcus @ Hopes and Expectations, you can't even imagine the joy hearing another human voice in this cold void! ======================== ====TRANSMISSION END==== ========================