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</div></div><div style="margin-left: 20px"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><div style="text-align: justify">One hundred twelve operational days of activity in Sol-Soon but not once did AXS-062 step beyond its white and blue facility. Most of her waking hours were spent in sterile laboratories and in barren testing zones ever since she was deemed physiologically and psychologically autonomous. However, both were either controlled or simulated environments that supposedly bestowed her real world awareness and acumen. Day in and day out, her existence was a routine cycle that consisted of the same scientists that fashioned her after the purpose of their corporation and the same trials that measured her capacity to meet what was expected of her. These virtual realities were all she had ever known. Yet on her 113th day, not only was she integrated into a four-man squad with the most unusual characters to fulfill her objectives but AXS-062 was also renamed into <i>Avielle</i> and permitted leave beyond Sol-Soon Advanced Genetic’s premises. <i>Avielle.</i> It was a good name. AXS-062—<i>no</i>—Avielle found it satisfactory.<br/>
<br/>
On the other hand, simulated sunlight could never compare to the actual aurous rays that dappled and warmed Avielle’s skin whilst they traveled 11,822 feet above ground.<br/>
<br/>
Her briefing in SSAG prior to the squad’s arrival was simple and informative: from henceforth, Avielle would be under the jurisdiction of USA’s Department of Defense, specifically answering to Commander Canaan Drennen. Conversely, Dr. Won also left her a concise instruction that Avielle mustn’t use her abilities to harm humans since such an act was against the very principles SSAG stood for during this time of war. Yet here she was at the hands of the Corps. It was a paradox that left the Avoxxis questioning the hierarchy of command and pondering if this was yet another test. The scientists in SSAG were fond of constructing those for her to resolve. Answers, she supposed, would come at Canaan’s behest when the situation called for it. What Avielle prioritized at the moment was the present, namely where the chopper had landed.<br/>
<br/>
Base camp, from what she had gathered from the siblings’ chatter, was a stark contrast from SSAG both in structure and design. For every white and blue that SSAG incorporated in their establishment, it was matched by the Corps’s black themes and steel motifs among the military-grade tarps. Apart from the American flag that fluttered in the hazy sky, Avielle stood out amongst the uniformed soldiers with her pristine suit after disembarking their air transport moments prior. No sooner than later, Avielle was motionless alongside the team within a tent that seemingly belonged to a General Yuuto Sugawara. It was a name she sighted in Canaan’s dossier; his superior, and also hers should the Commander be absent. Aside from this, the Avoxxis had no other information on him, his file excluded from the data that was uploaded into her earlier on. Regardless, the details of the debriefing were clear and executable for her first mission, the blueprints and photographs of these phasic weapons and TAR exosuits on display—or what she glimpsed of it, mainly—were saved in the information banks of her mind for future analysis. A retrieval operation that required tact and diplomacy bore an 82.64% base success rate, though their chances could increase once a strategy was ironed out and in place.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d81c25">“I’ll ask the question floating in everyone’s minds.”</span> Mikhail drawled once Canaan gave way for clarifications. The younger Nazarov gestured at the holoscreen with a grin that Avielle could only describe as enthused. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d81c25">“That exosuit… and those firearms earlier—what’s gonna happen once we retrieve them <i>diplomatically</i>?”</span> The tone of Mikhail’s voice at the end of his inquiry registered as derision to Avielle’s ears, upheld more so by the roll of his eyes, which revealed his contempt for Yuuto. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#d81c25">“Destroy them? Do we, at the very least, get to use them? Or are we gonna hand them down to R&amp;D for disassembling and storage? Highly doubt DOD’ll let tech like that to see the light of day. But after that sales pitch, General, it’s kinda hard not wanting to see those babies in action. We’re already armed with an Avoxxis. Phasic weapons would be the cherry on top.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Although Avielle’s auditory functions focused on the weapons specialist, the Avoxxis studied Yuuto’s micro-expressions, detecting impatience and exasperation in his countenance at each word that Mikhail uttered. Minor as these telltales were, it was evident that the General disliked Mikhail as much as the latter did for his superior. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“These weapons aren’t toys, Nazarov. It’s well-beyond S-grade. It’s on par with the likes of the Avoxxis, perhaps even more. Should both of these prototypes fall into the wrong hands, it would end the war and Earth itself.”</span> Yuuto deactivated the holoscreens, its cyanous glow disappearing along with it, and squarely fixed his steely stare at Mikhail. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“Once retrieved, the VTI tech will be in DOD’s custody confidentially. We don’t want all of the major players banging down at our doors, guns blazing, to get their hands on it. No one must know that this sort of tech exists. If word got out somehow, as far as they’re supposed to know, it’s already destroyed. <i>But,</i> under special conditions, the phasic equipment will be utilized by the DOD if we believe it’s vital to an operation’s success. You’ll need my clearance before any of you can use it. Any more questions?”</span><br/>
<br/>
If the squad had any, their chances to pose their inquiries were lost. A feminine voice requested entry from the other side of the tent. Once the General granted access, a young, plain woman in standard garb saluted the individuals by way of greeting. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“Private Weiss reporting. I’m here to fetch a new recruit for outfitting.”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#f47319">“That’s you, Avielle. Go on. We’ll see you later.”</span> Ylona urged with an affable grin whilst she leaned abaft, her voice low as she met Avielle’s cool gaze behind Mikhail’s back. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#f47319">“Black’ll look so good on you!”</span><br/>
<br/>
In spite of the subtle interaction between the two women, it did not go unnoticed by the General. He sported a raised brow, inquisitive and amused, as he addressed the Commander about his subordinate’s behavior. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“Avielle, eh? Interesting codename for it.”</span> Nodding at Weiss and the Avoxxis in approval of their departure, Yuuto rested his palm atop the desk, a hidden compartment sliding open at his touch, and extracted a black handheld device on the surface of the circular table. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“Here, Commander. Take this. SOP demands us to keep track of the weapons we have in our possession. An Avoxxis is no exception. Scan and register the code at the back of its neck to your name while it’s getting outfitted. If you and your team no longer have any questions, you’re dismissed for the day.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Those were the last words Avielle heard as Private Weiss herded her out of the tent. Her female companion proved to be a loquacious individual, filling their trek with one-sided babbling about base camp gossip the Avoxxis had no knowledge of. It seemed that the Private had no idea about the true nature of her charge in spite of how Avielle was attired—or if she did, it failed to faze her. The soldier led her beyond rows of tents of varying sizes and into a weathered yet sturdy-looking, single story building fronted by heavy, metallic sliding doors. Upon entry, the state of the art interiors belied how it appeared from the outside. The scent of antiseptic wafted potently through Avielle’s nostrils whilst they strolled through the corridor, reminding her of moments when she awoke in Anatomies back at SSAG. The camp’s infirmary must be stationed here; and as they passed a wing lined with medical beds and rooms equipped with surgical apparatuses, Avielle’s deductions were affirmed. However, these surely weren’t their destination. Private Weiss escorted her into a closed room slightly smaller than the medical wing they breezed by previously. The walls of this area were adorned with customary firearms, ammo-less equipment, and mandatory gear with mirrors dividing the gallery of deadly paraphernalia at convenient intervals. Additionally, plexiglass shelves and rigid benches were erected about the room, harboring other military accessories a trooper might need in the field.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“Hm, you’ve a pretty slender figure… such long hair too…”</span> Private Weiss murmured to herself whilst she stood at the center of the room, eyeing Avielle’s physique appraisingly, before striding towards one of the walls that stowed the uniforms. She procured a folded bundle of quality fabrics from the ledges and deposited it into the Avoxxis’s arms, pointing soon after to a shelf of helmets and boots. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“That should do. You can get your boots and helmet right there. Uh, General’s instructions didn’t say if I should arm you or not so you better not touch any of the weapons in here unless you get explicit permission from your XOs. I’ll leave the room so you can get changed in here. Don’t worry about someone dropping by. No one comes in here anyway at this time of the day. I’ll be right next door with the medics so just come out and find me once you’re done in here. Welcome to the Corps… uh, um…”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“Avielle.”</span> The blonde supplied, introducing herself and letting the three syllables roll off her tongue for the first time, her identity beyond SSAG established. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“That’s what they call me now.”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“<i>Right</i>… Avielle.”</span> Private Weiss repeated as she exited. If she was bewildered by what Avielle mentioned, she showed no signs of it. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:white">“Let’s get to it then.”</span><br/>
<br/>
As the door slid close, Avielle was alone in the room, a first as well since she left SSAG. Although Avielle lacked the sentiments her human counterparts had, the Avoxxis found herself recalling and basing off experiences she had in SSAG more often than not. These recollections arose unbidden and were best ignored. Unraveling the garments in her possession, the DOD’s uniform was a lot more complicated than SSAG’s one-piece bodysuit. Her rosy lips pursed faintly, summoning deductive logic in analyzing which piece went first and which came next.​</div></div></div></div>