Rising After the Fall

This is chapter three of a multi-chapter story commissioned by Adam and written by Vanessa Foxe (breedorbebred)

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The small screen on the power cell flashed to life and displayed the unit's current level of charge.

"Still sixty-two percent?" Cianna frowned at the large battery, a piece of technology that had been absolutely bleeding-edge when she took it with her into the cryopod. Now it was a century or two out-of-date-- just like her.

Footfalls on the stairs behind her preceded Zavier's entrance to the room. He might have glanced over her shoulder to peek at the power cell in her hand, if not for the fact that she was a full foot-and-a-half taller than he was. Some of that was because she stood at a staggering seven feet in height thanks to the genetic augmentations she had been born with, but his short stature was just as big of a factor.

"Still at sixty-two?" he confirmed, obviously having overheard Cianna's grumbling as he came down to join her in the workspace. He grimaced at her nod before leaning against the workbench across from her with a sigh. "That's three days without it going up by a single percent, now."

She gave him a glance, taking in his relaxed posture. It was clear that he wasn't too broken up about the battery's slow charging rate. After all, the longer it took for the power core to charge, the longer it would be before Cianna was ready to leave Elk River Valley. He hadn't exactly made it a secret that he wanted Cianna to stay in the small town for a while longer-- maybe even forever, if he had his way.

"It's only gone up by about thirteen percent in five weeks." Cianna was frustrated, but the grimace on her face had more to do with how close to her Zavier was standing. While she had nothing against the young man-- she was actually quite fond of him, she could admit-- it was getting harder and harder to ignore the tension between them.

A bit more than a month ago, caught up in a surge of gratitude for all the kind things Zavier had done for her and feeling thoroughly giddy from sitting under the most beautiful night sky she'd ever seen in her life, Cianna had taken things a bit too far with the boy. She'd kissed him, stripped down to the waist to let him play with her breasts, and then gone as far as blowing him right there on his parents' balcony. She'd ended up running away when she finally realised that her time in cryosleep had been a lot more than two or three decades she'd expected.

At first, Zavier had been quite content to give Cianna her space, and she had taken that as proof that she hadn't ruined their working relationship in that one evening of excitement. But over the last few weeks, Zavier had started standing closer to her and wanting to spend even more time with her. Now every time she looked up, she found him staring.

Despite all her warnings that her time in Elk River Valley was temporary, Zavier had clearly developed feelings for her.

"There's just not enough power to spare anymore," she sighed, trying to focus on the problem at-hand. One disaster at a time.

"That's not really a surprise, though, is it?" Zavier shrugged. "Even with the increased power rationing they're asking everyone to do, there's barely enough to keep everything running. The geothermal plant is... It's really struggling this year. It's going to be a tough winter if the plant can't keep up with our needs."

And that was her main problem. Cianna had been relying on the town to produce enough energy that she could skim some off the top to charge her core over the course of weeks or months. With winter coming, the town's energy needs would only rise, and there was no way they'd have enough surplus for her to take any for herself. Not without overdrawing the grid and leaving everyone else to freeze when the snow started falling.

So, if she wasn't going to be able to charge the power core any more than she already had, why was she still here?

Cianna knew the answer to that question, of course. It was literally staring her in the face.

She met Zavier's gaze, finding brown eyes full of excitement, adoration, and... something richer than that. Shit, he really was far gone. He'd developed feelings for her even after she'd explicitly warned him not to. Wasn't it kinder to let him off easy, to rip the bandage off before he got even more attached?

"Zavier, I..." Cianna's voice faltered as her courage left her. She drew in a deep, steadying breath, and fell into the standard parade-rest she had practiced throughout the childhood she'd spent in military training. The pose reminded her of her duties: to her comrades, to her captain, and to herself. "I've been staying with you for a long time now. And while I will always be grateful to you for all that you've done for me, pretty soon I am going to have to--"

"I want you to stay," the petite man interjected. "Cianna, I want you to... Why not just stay here? Elk River Valley is a good place to make a life. You have friends here. Alannis, me, even Frank from down the street. You could get your own place, or just stay here with me..."

"You know that's not going to happen." She let some steel creep into her voice as she worked herself up to go through with this hard conversation. "Zavier, we've talked about this. I've been staying here to charge the power core. If there's no more power to spare, then it's time for me to be moving on."

"Is that all you care about then?" he asked, and the look of genuine hurt in his eyes hit Cianna with all the force and sharpness of a sniper's well-aimed bullet. "Just the battery?"

"I told you how it was when I first moved in, Zavier. I have other responsibilities."

"Well, I hope those work out for you," he said quietly, but not quite quietly enough to hide the quaver in his voice.

He turned around and stalked back up the stairs without another word. She heard the distant sound of a door slamming, probably his bedroom door on the third floor of the house. She was going to have to leave sooner rather than later, she knew. If not by tomorrow, then no later than the end of the week.

Cianna idly flicked the power button on her communicator and listened to it chirp as it powered up. The LX-200 had been the standard-issue communications device for the elite military squads like hers. Back then, every one of the genetically-enhanced supersoldiers in her fireteam had used these miniature computers, in addition to all the military higher-ups. Nowadays, no one had anything nearly that advanced, and there were no large-scale networks for it to connect to. The best she could hope for was someone with a similar device coming within range, so that the devices could...

A quiet chime drew her attention back to the device in her hands. It was a sound she hadn't heard in more than three months. Actually, it had been more than a hundred years since she'd last heard the device inform her that it was locked onto a local intranet with another of its peers, but she'd spent most of that time in cryosleep and hadn't noticed the years passing.

A few quick taps on the display brought up the information on the signal. It was weak, just at the edge of the device's detection range, but it was there.

"Holy shit," Cianna whispered, heart suddenly thundering in her ears as she stared at the read-out on the screen. It wasn't just any LX communicator she was detecting... the signal belonged to someone from her own squad, Fireteam VF. "Holy shit!"

She'd finally found someone!

The signal was coming from somewhere east of her. That direction was all mountainous terrain-- not quite as sharp as the cliff that marked the town's west side, but steep enough to be tough walking. But with her power armour, it would be no problem.

Cianna stared at the power core sitting on the table, hardwired straight into the wall of Zavier's parents' shop. Sixty-two percent charge would power her suit of armour for a good while, plenty long enough to find whoever the communicator was pinging. Even if whoever she found wasn't one of her comrades, they would probably be able to tell her where the communicator had come from, and she would be one step closer to finding the hidden military base that she had been separated from during her long period of unconsciousness.

She turned the communicator back offline to preserve what little power it had, and grabbed the power cell off of the table. Sixty-two percent would have to be enough.

It took only a moment to unhook the cell, then she was dashing for the stairs. The world around her was a blur as Cianna all but dove into her room.

"Shirts, extra pants, shoes..." Cianna mumbled to herself as she rolled articles of clothing up and tucked them into the cross-shoulder messenger bag she always carried. Her depleted supply of meds was already packed, and she'd even found herself a fresh supply of freeze-dried meat and fruit to replace the long-expired rations she'd taken into cryosleep with her. Apparently even beef jerky went bad after a couple of centuries in a cryo tank.

Zavier's voice carried through the floor from his bedroom upstairs as he finished a phone call. "I'm making a trip to the plant," he called distractedly as he passed her open bedroom door a moment later. "They want me on-hand while they reboot the... Are you packing?"

While she had tried to keep her attention focused on the task at hand as Zavier spoke, the note of shock and hurt in his voice was enough to bring Cianna's head up. She looked up from her spot on the floor, surrounded by a ring of clothes, pictures, and other accumulated treasures that she was sorting through to figure out what was necessary and what would just be extra weight. But she didn't quite meet his eyes-- she wasn't ready to see the look of hurt that she knew would be written across his face.

"Is that... You unplugged the power core?" Zavier's voice conveyed all the hurt she didn't want to see on his face.

"I finally got a signal." She dropped her gaze back down to the shirt she held in her large hands as Zavier stood in the doorway, saying nothing.

The rich cotton-blend shirt was soft, and just large enough to actually fit over her broad shoulders. Zavier had picked it up for her when he made a short trip to a nearby town two weeks ago. She hadn't had it in her to tell him the yellow-green colour was unbearably ugly-- she'd even gone as far as wearing it in front of him twice since then, despite the bright shade being almost physically painful to look at. Now she couldn't decide whether to keep it or leave it behind.

"A signal?" he finally asked, voice quiet but steady.

"I've been trying to track..." she trailed off and silently cursed her carelessness at having almost told him more than she should. She had to preserve operational security, above all else. Her sleeping comrades were vulnerable, and she couldn't risk giving away their position until she knew they were safe. "I've been looking for something since before I came here, and I've finally got a lock on it. I need to get to it now, before the signal fades."

"Oh, that's... that's really good."

Zavier stood there, half in the room and half out, not saying anything else for long moments. Cianna felt her gaze being pulled up, drawn to his face, desperate to know what he was feeling, even if she didn't want to see. Zavier's face held all the hurt she had expected, but also a kind of blankness. He stared at the small stack of clothing she'd piled up on the corner of the bed, the wheels in his mind clearly spinning as he stood there and processed what he was seeing.

"All that clothing, dried food, the power core... you're not coming back, are you?" His voice grew quieter with each word he spoke until she had to strain her hearing to even catch the last.

"I... it's..." Cianna stopped and drew in a deep breath, then another.

In basic training, which she'd been enrolled in almost from the moment she was born from a tank, the instructors had taught each of the child-cadets how to manage their emotions. Some emotions you could let roll through you, allowing it to pass from one side of your mind to the other before being released. Some emotions needed to be tamped down and dealt with later, like the shock and horror of an active battlefield. Basic training didn't cover how to deal with the sharp feeling in her gut, the ice-cold knife being driven into her stomach and twisted.

"I might be able to come back," she offered lamely. She didn't actually believe it, and she doubted Zavier did either. "I told you I was only ever going to be able to stay here temporarily. We both knew I was going to have to go again someday."

"Yeah, but I just thought-- I assumed you'd--" Zavier's words faltered until he stopped speaking entirely.

She stared up at him from where she crouched. She was used to looking down at him, looking down at most people she spoke to from her seven-foot height. His position above her was backwards, upside down, topsy-turvy-- but then, everything felt wrong and backwards right then.

"That's fine," he finally said with a small shrug that shifted the backpack he carried on his shoulders. It probably had all of his repair work gear in it, from the tiny pliers and miniature soldering kit to the magnifying glasses she always thought made him look silly when he wore them. "Do what you have to do. Anything you leave behind I'll-- I'll find someone in the community who needs them."

"Zavier, I'm sorry it--"

"It's fine, Cianna," he cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. His slightly-too-long hair fell in his eyes when he did, and he shook his head to clear his vision, a small gesture that usually drove her crazy. How many times had she suggested he just cut his hair a bit, so he wouldn't always have to shake it away from his face? "Really, it is. You need to do what you need to do. I've gotta get going, Cianna. They want me at the geothermal plant, they need me to oversee the... the whatever."

"Zavier, I--"

"I've gotta get going," he repeated. "Have a good-- I'll see you later, Cianna."

With that last word, he turned away. Zavier walked from her room, almost ran, even as the sound of her name was still echoing off the walls She watched the small, soft man-- barely more than a boy, really-- as he turned sharply to take the stairs too quickly.

She could say something. She could call after him. She could stop him, she knew. All she had to do was call his name.

But she didn't. The door slammed downstairs as he left the house where he'd been putting her up for the better part of three months.

Cianna finished picking out what she'd need for the road. She could carry a lot of weight in her suit of powered armour, but there was a limit to how much physical bulk she could manage while still keeping up a good pace. Who knew how long the signal would be active for?

The ugly shirt went in the bag, alongside two other shirts, a backup pair of pants, and a handful of undergarments. She took a long look at the stack of photographs on the bureau, which had been spread out and pinned up on her wall just minutes ago. Wildflowers, a pristine river, a night sky full of stars, the old lady Alannis Janesdottir taking a bite of a freshly-picked mushroom half the size of her head... Cianna picked up just one picture from the pile, a selfie of her and Zavier sitting by the edge of Elk River with their feet in the water. She folded it in half and tucked it into an inner pocket of her bag, right behind the small stash of remaining medicine that had been prepackaged for her in the old world, and zipped her bag up.

She picked up the partially-charged power core with gentle reverence, and tucked it under her arm. Everything else, she would leave behind. Everyone else. They would only slow her down, and time was wasting.

It was a sunny November afternoon, but no one seemed to be around. On a day like today, with the threat of winter snow looming, everyone would either be getting ready for the first frost, or just enjoying the last days of warmth. Either way, there was no one around to slow her down with conversation, which was just fine with Cianna.

She checked over her shoulder as she reached the edge of the woods, making sure no one was following her. Obviously, she was happy to find that no one was pursuing her... and yet she also felt oddly disappointed.

Satisfied that she was unmonitored, Cianna followed a trail deeper into the cover of trees, looking for the markers she'd left behind. There was a tree with a small horizontal cut eight feet off the ground, and there was another. She walked between the two marked trees in a straight line until she found the thin tree with a small blue ribbon tied on an upper branch. Just behind that was... There, the pile of deadwood and old brush she'd dragged onto her hiding spot.

The dirt beneath was discoloured, obviously having been tampered with in the last few months. She swept it away with her hand, revealing the filthy glass window beneath. Her cryogenic pod, right where she'd left it.

Not that she or anyone else could have moved the thousand-pound tank of glass and steel, mind you.

The hinges creaked in protest when she pulled on the edge, but Cianna was seven feet of trim muscle and a few inches of dirt wasn't nearly enough to hold her back.

The pod opened with a hiss of displaced air, and Cianna smiled down at the pile of gear she'd hidden here. She'd been carrying her service pistol in a concealed carry holster and a submachine gun that she'd disassembled to hide better, but it was still a relief to see the heavy assault rifle laying in the pod's padded interior. Nothing gave the same sense of comfort and security as a gun capable of spitting out a hundred finger-sized bullets in one minute.

Nothing, that was, except for the feeling of being encased in two hundred pounds of mechanically-powered, technologically-assisted armour. She'd changed back into her military uniform, and she pulled the first piece of the metal frame over the thin, breathable one-piece suit.

The wire-mesh underlay went over that basic frame, then a thicker metal frame clipped on and provided the chassis for the rest of the gear. The chest and back pieces were the heaviest, and Cianna struggled to get them into place-- this part was always easier with assistance. Then she connected the wires to the rest of the structure, slotted the power core into place, and let the complicated machinery hum to life.

It took a serious effort of will to not shift and fidget with impatience, but the start-up sequence went smoothest if the user held still during the initialization. She'd sat through this process literally hundreds of times, but her nerves were on edge today and standing around wasn't helping.

Finally, the suit was powered up, and the rest of the process went quickly. The heavy gauntlets on her hands were powered up and provided an ample boost to strength, and she used her cybernetically-enhanced strength to slap the heavy armour plates into place. Cianna had assembled her suit so many times that she could do it blindfolded-- she actually had done so before, while being timed by an instructor-- but it had never been as comforting as it was today. With each piece she slotted into place, she felt more like her old self.

Titanium-alloy boots kept her two inches off of the ground, and armoured gloves put a layer of protection between her and anything she touched. The heavy helmet cradled and protected her head and face, and ensured that anyone looking at her would see nothing more than an emotionless expanse of metal. Her communicator, now back in its accustomed place inside of her helmet and hooked up to the massive power supply, amplified sounds and provided an overlay of useful information. She wasn't just Cianna, now... She was Lieutenant Cianna Alpha, first-gen augmented soldier and second-in-command of Fireteam Victor-Foxtrot.