Snippet #2687075

The harsh winds and flurries of the mountains had proved to be nothing short of a frozen hell for all those who had attempted to inhabit it. Even during the so called "Golden Age" of humanity only the most brave and foolhardy scientists and researches went up to conduct research in relative peace. Of course after the Ventus Uprising many refugees fled north for a possible, slow death rather than an immediate, probable one. Angela gave a mirthless grin at that as she trudged through the snow; to her every day was still a probable death. She'd been thrown out of the train nearly five days ago with only a survival satchel thrown after her-for someone who was supposed to be so valuable, Angela still had to go through such meaningless pilot survival exercises. Eventually she was greeted at the final checkpoint by several Cyber Edges who merely watched her with something amounting to disdain as she stumbled into the outpost. One of the older Cyber Edges took her into a building and smiled.

"Congratulations you completed this a full day faster than before!" He seemed very ecstatic at this result through Angela was too exhausted to care; after all, if she didn't complete it faster she would have run out of filters and died anyways.

"It would seem so. Does he really want me to die so fast?" Angela asked as a few medical orderlies began checking her for frostbite and other injuries that could put one of the last pilots in medical danger.

"Of course not our dear Angel, but it would be prudent to ensure you are still fit for your next assignment. As you know the experimental pile driver has been...misplaced and who knows if those mysterious pirates would target you." The Cyber Edge laughed as he dug out a device from his bag and held it out for Angela. She glared at his use of a nickname that had unfortunately stuck on, through with some it was meant as a veiled insult. After scrolling through the mission file detailing a salvage and support contract to a group entering Machine City, Angela got up and looked out the window into the blizzard.

" I see I have no choice in the matter if the orders come from him. When do I leave?"

"As soon as you are changed and ready. Chamber has already been loaded onto the train leaving for Styx where you will likely been chosen as the operator for the Raider's train; the Raider's closest operator has disappeared in the Scrapyards."

That had all been a few days ago. The ride had been largely uneventful beside a few skirmishes and encounters with Ventrus scouts who had gotten too close for comfort. Angela went through the satchel bag given to her before she departed; a months worth of filters, the best device Cocythus had to break into Ventrus systems, rations, medicine, and a black box she was told to open only when ordered to. Satisfied that she had everything, she walked out of the room that Styx had supplied her into the gloomy morning. Many of the Styx residents gave her wary at best, and downright hostile looks at worst after word got around she was from Phlegeton. It didn't really bother her since none of them wanted her dead, and as long as Angela played nice with the ones in charge she would survive.

The limited room in the satchel had essentially limited her wardrobe to her pilot suit and goggles, which was attracting more views beyond the hostility Styx held towards Phlegeton-Cocytus. It was also unfortunate that she left her coat in the cockpit of Chamber, but hopefully she would be able to reunite with her machine if the meeting with the leaders of the Raiders and the person who had put out the recruitment notice went well. When she reached the meeting place in question, Angela was ushered in and shoved into the corner of the room to await the arrival of the rest of the interested parties. In her opinion, the whole operation was nothing short of a suicide run, but it was only a probable death as opposed to a guaranteed death for defying orders from the top. With nothing better to do while she waited, Angela opened up the device given to her and began reading through the mission brief again for the hundredth time.