"This deployment will mark the first descent of YoRHa's newest models onto Earth." Commander's White voice, stern and cold, filled the spacious chamber they were lined up in. "Your performance during this mission will supply us with data that will shape the future. Our future. Humanity's future."
Serious as her tone was, the words served to fill Number Two with hope and determination. It wasn't often they got to see the Commander up close. And she was inspiring as always. Standing taller than them with distinct blonde hair and harden blue eyes, the two black haired assistants that stood just behind her were forgettable by comparison. Her uniform was just as distinct, the intricate dress and high boots white in color with golden lining.
As the first YoRHa unit to ever touch down on Earth and carry out a perfect operation with no casualties, with her at their helm things would go well.
Number Two knew it.
"No matter the situation you find yourself in, give your all to the fight." Commander White finished her speech with a salute, left palm held over her chest. "Glory to humanity."
"Glory to humanity!" Every last one of them chortled back, mirroring the salute.
With that as their dismissal, movement and chatter filled the chamer, everyone spreading out from the line up. Number Two found herself watching Number One step up to the Commander.
"Be sure to exercise caution, Number One."
"Oh lighten up, Commander." Number One patted Commander White's shoulder, grinning no doubt. Despite being in similar roles of leadership the two couldn't be more different. "This is what all the simulations were for weren't they? My team will make the Council proud."
"As I've said, exercise caution." Commander White made no acknowledgement of Number One's casual confidence, only reiterating her point. Number Two couldn't imagine anyone else getting out of that without some reprimanding. Not that she knew anyone else who'd dared to be so lax with the Commander.
"Spacing out again, Two?" An arm dropped across her shoulders, a head hovering near hers. Number Sixteen, one of the few who tended to throw regulation and formality to the wayside. She followed Number Two's gaze over to the Commander. "You think the Council gave her those things for reason or are they just for show?"
"What?" Number Two asked.
"I'm talking about that big chest the Commander is rocking. You think there's a reason for those things or-"
"Sixteen!" Number Two exclaimed. Others looked their way and she dropped her voice. "You can't say something like that."
"There you go, Number Two." Sixteen patted her shoulder, grinning. "Just relax. Follow me when we get down to Earth and I'll lead us through this mission easy."
That confidence that came so easily to her, Number Two wished she had it.
"More like lead us into a minefield." One of the others near them retorted with a laugh.
"Hey! That was one time!" Sixteen shouted back, instantly riled up by the reminder of one of the many simulations they'd undergone together.
Number Two found her gaze drifting from the budding argument Sixteen was starting and back towards the Commander. With Number One down on the ground leading them and Commander White overseeing the operation from up here on the Bunker things would go well, she was sure of it.
But there was a small worry. That insistence on caution; were the machines just that dangerous or was there something else?
-Route A, No. 036-
"Looking back, it's obvious she knew…" A2 muttered. "The Commander knew exactly what she was sending us down into and said nothing."
Her fists were clenched, teeth grounded together, and cold downward gaze unblinking. He'd seen her angry, defensive, and downright hateful when it came to the machines. All of that paled in comparison to the rage mentioning this Commander White brought about.
Despite that he didn't miss the slight quiver of her lip or the weight dulling the cold edge of her glare.
All that repressed rage couldn't do anything to rid her of her sadness.
Apex kept quiet, softly squeezing her shoulder. All he could do for her was listen.
-Route A, No. 036-
Hot grains pressed against her back. A breeze passed, blowing the pieces onto her face and rousing her. As she opened her eyes, unfiltered light blinded her.
What was-
Number Two shot up. The explosion, the screams, the…the-
No! If she had made it then the others were fine too. They had to be.
She moved to scan her surroundings only to freeze in place. Sand laid below her, stretching forward where advancing waves met it. Up above were endless blue skies that acted as a perfect mirror to the open sea below.
The flames from what remained of her crashed flight unit raged beside her, the angry embers slowly crawling towards her. And yet, in the face of the golden-brown sands, crystal blue waters, and the clear sky, the danger seemed inconsequential.
This world was-
"Number Two." A voice snatched her attention away from the waters. Number Four, silver ponytail swaying with the breeze, stood behind her, clothes dirtied but she was otherwise untouched by the brutal descent. "You need to get up."
"Number Four! Where is everyone else? Are they okay?" Number Two scrambled to her feet, grabbing the sword that'd laid beside.
Number Four pointed to the side.
The place they'd crashed on, a beach according to her data, was covered in the metal debris of destroyed flight units, the resulting flames burning hotter by the second. Amongst the destruction a group of their fellow units were gathering.
Number Two rushed forward.
They were alive! Number Twenty-one, Number Sixteen, and-
Number Two slowed, eyes widened.
The others, dirtied like Number Four, stood around Number One. Their leader hadn't been as lucky as the rest of them. Her face was bloodied, limbs torn apart, and she was impaled by a metal shard from one of the many flight units.
"Captain!" Number Two screamed, dropping to their leader's side. Why wasn't anyone trying to repair the damage? She could make it through this. She had to. She was going to lead them through this mission just like she did in all the simulations.
"She's no longer active, Number Two." Number Twenty-one declared.
She didn't want to believe it. She wanted to pretend as if she hadn't heard it or act as if it were a misdiagnosis. But Number One laid completely still, eyes closed. How had this happened? Hadn't they prepared anti-aerial defenses?
"Did you manage to get in contact with the Bunker?" Number Four asked.
"No. Communications appear to have damaged during the descent." Number Twenty-one said. Their captain was gone and they couldn't get in contact with the Comannder. What were they supposed to do? "Protocol dictates that Number Two is to assume the role of captain."
"What?!" Number Sixteen exclaimed, in tune with Number Two's own thoughts. She couldn't take Number One's place. She wasn't fit to be a leader like her. "Forget protocol. Let me take the lead. I can handle it."
"That's not how it works, Number Sixteen. Everything has already spiraled out of control so we need to stick to protocol before it gets any worse."
"Worse!?" How can this get any worse?!"
"I don't know but-"
"Then just let me take the lead!"
"I told you, that's not how it works."
"What are your orders, Number Two?" Number Four questioned abruptly, stopping the budding argument before it could truly begin.
Her orders? What was she supposed to say? What would Number One say?
"We-" Some nearby wreckage shifted, a hand clawing at the sand in an attempt to get from beneath it. "-We look for survivors!" Number Two quickly declared. No one protested, all but Number Twenty-one fanning out as she stood up.
"You're going against regulations." Number Twenty-one pointed out, gesturing towards Number Two's neck. Her scanner had fallen around it, knocked off during the crash. Number Twenty-one joined the others as Number two clenched the blindfold.
…She was right. Commander White would know what to do; they just needed to follow regulations and hold out until communication was reestablished.
Number Two pulled her up, resecuring it around her eyes before joining the others in the search across the beach.
They scoured the entire crash site and by the end of it had pulled four survivors from the flaming remnants. All of them were in similar condition to Number One, bleeding, missing different limbs, but still alive.
"Pick them up. We need to get out of the open." Number Two ordered, taking one of the near limp survivors onto her back.
"You can't be serious. Look at them, they're going to-"
"Pick them up!" Number Two shouted. "We aren't abandoning here." She added lowly.
There was some grumbling from Number Sixteen but she and the others followed the order, each of them taking one of the injured onto their backs. Together they headed towards the forest line of dense jungle like greenery cresting the beach's edge.
There had to be something they could do for the injured.
-Route A, No. 036-
"Out of the twenty-four units sent down to Earth, eight survived the initial descent. Four of those eight were too damaged to move on their own." A2 said. "I thought there was something we could do for them but…"
While A2's rage hadn't quite waned, by now it was being overpowered by a growing sadness, her words slowing.
"There was Number Sixteen. She was a lot like you, ready to jump into danger and do things her way." A2 said, the weakest smile beginning to form. "There was Number Twenty-one. She never stopped pointing out the rules, but I think it was just her way of helping since she wasn't built for combat. Popola sometimes reminds me of her. Then there was Number Four. She was easy to get along with and never seem bothered by anything. I think she and Devola would've gotten along."
A2 clenched and unclenched her fist, voice shaky.
Pain was something Apex had come to consider as natural as breathing. Whether it be pangs of hunger, attacks from machines, or learning to make use of his abilities; so much of what he did inherently involved some form of pain that it was as much a constant as Navi. He sure didn't go looking for it, but he didn't shy away from it either. There's so much he wouldn't be able to or wouldn't have done had he done nothing but avoid it.
A faint pang took hold of his chest as he listened to A2. A pang that neither his regeneration nor Navi's nanomachines could do anything about. His heart clenched, as if trying to rid him of the achene though that proved equally useless, his body helpless against the phantom ache.
"After…After we lost the other four w-we came across deserters from the local resistance forces. They-" Did A2 realize that she was trembling? Did she hear the cracks in her own voice? Was she at all aware of the watery corners in her eyes?
He shifted his grasp, pulling her head against his chest.
Her arms slowly wrapped around him, tightening bit by bit as her hold tightened. Before long, his tank top began to grow damp as A2 trembled against him.
He couldn't claim to truly understand her pain. He'd woken up alone with nothing and no one. He'd literally had nothing to lose or mourn. But that wasn't the case anymore. Popola, Devola, A2. If anything happened to any of them-
The ache in his chest worsened, as if trying to gnaw down on him.
He might not have experienced what she did, but he did know one thing. If anything were to happen to him A2 would go through it again. No, not just her. Popola and Devola had completely abandoned the group they spent years tolerating nothing but abuse from just for him.
His life wasn't his own.
Everything they were doing now, whether he asked for it or not, he was partially responsible for them. And if he were to just run off and make some reckless decision that resulted in his death, he could only assume that this ache he was feeling was a small peek into the pain that they would go through.
And he wasn't sure how any could live with that sort of pain.
Apex laid his chin onto the top of A2's head.
He needed to start thinking less about himself and his curiosity and start putting them first. He'd rather live with unanswered questions than let any of them experience something like that.