2024-06-16: Lone survivor, reluctant hero.

• Cutscene: Lone survivor, reluctant hero
• Cast: Marian Cross
• Where: Orb
• Date: UC 0099 06 16
• Summary: A survivor of a hopeless battle now regarded as a hero, returns to duty.

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        A knob turns, and the door swings open into a well, naturally lit bedroom. A young man in Orb's military uniform stepped into the room.

The first thing that catches his eyes isn't the visible traces of dust that can be found in the messy room itself, the barely dressed state of the woman standing in front of the open wardrobe, or her striking dyed white hair. The woman, to be sure, isn't unattractive. Fair skinned, silky white hair, sharp looking face, and even modest curves. No, what caught his attention isn't the woman's overall appealing features.

Rather, it was the ugly scars across her torso in view as she tilted her body to face him. Jagged and raised edges marring much of her torso. A particularly large one stretching across her abdomen and down a thigh. The scars grips his curiosity the most.

"...were you never taught to ring the door before entering someone's house?" The woman asks. Her voice is deep. Feminine. But no hint of anger in it.

It was still enough to break the stare the man has upon her scars, causing him to stumble his words as he hastily raises a hand to salute a superior officer. "I- I- I apologize, ma'am! I- I didn't know you were changing!" His face a deep red, now realizing he could get court martialed for this.

The woman sighs, "it's fine." She turns back towards the wardrobe, retrieving a dress shirt and slipping an arm in it while the young officer, still in the doorway and struggling to find something, anything else, to fix his gaze on.

"You were supposed to wait outside." Another arm casually slips into the shirt as she continued, uncaring that she's in her underwear in front of a stranger. "You didn't even knock before entering."

The man is still flustering. His sight inadvertently falling on her lower half now that her torso is covered. "I- I heard that you were injured... A-And that you may needed help! Ma'am!"

"With getting dressed?" She lets off a chuckle at that. She's evidently able to dress herself without issue. It wasn't her intention to lighten the uneasy mood in the room, but that was nevertheless the effect it had when she chuckled.

"Were- weren't you in a coma for...uh...t-twelve years?" His hand still raised in a salute, now feeling a little fatigued as his tense muscle slowly loosens.

"Two," she corrected him. This kid, in her eyes, seemed ignorant to her situation. Maybe even a little confused. Considering how he's been acting so far, he most likely wasn't listening when he got his orders to fetch her to the base.

"The hospital discharged me yesterday after finishing my rehab," she succinctly elaborated, hoping it was sufficient to catch him up to speed if he has indeed been indolent during briefing.

The hand that was raised in salute now lazily pivots to the back of his head, "ah, y-yes... I've been told, ma'am. I've just...forgotten..."

A poor excuse, if she's ever heard one. Still, she's not going to admonish him. It wasn't a big deal to her. At least the kid's mind is in the right place, thinking she needed help. And she's never been one to pull rank, even if the situation called for it. And this one absolutely did as per protocol.

"Hmph," she voiced softly under her breath. The corner of her lips twisting upwards slightly, and it seemed to calm the younger officer down just a tad more when he thinks he's in the clear.

---

        The door remained opened, the young man just a step inside the messy room. The woman casually getting dressed in the middle of it all, unfazed by the gaze she's receiving.

This silent little exchange between the two continued as their mind wandered. The man, in the presence of a superior officer he's just seen basically naked, is imagining the unspeakable while seemingly forgetting the hideous scars he witnessed just moments before.

Meanwhile, the woman is recalling the events that transpired prior to her coma. Her fight and her squadron's valiant sacrifice at what is now known as the Battle for Orb. Her final memories of her squad dying one by one before her eyes. Her trading of final blows with the last remaining enemy mobile suit on the field, barely surviving her cockpit being crushed.

By all accounts, the operation was a success. She got recommendations and praises from Nergal and Orb alike. With Orb offering a hefty commission back into their military, even going the extra mile and give her an experimental Gundam to sweeten the deal. And Nergal, not wanting to lose a talented personnel they poached from Orb in the first place, offered yet another promotion and increased access to their resources for her performance.

In their eyes, she's a hero. The lone survivor of a battle that would've been lost if she wasn't there.

But to the reluctant hero herself, it was a failure. The squad she's been through thick and thin with for damn near a decade. All vanquished in the battle. If they were stronger...they could've survived. If she was stronger...she could've saved them. ...And she wouldn't have lost her ability to bear child along with her dream to raise a loving family. These are thoughts that go through her mind day after day after waking from her coma.

The younger officer didn't pick up on the senior officer's change in expression. One that turned grim while they were both thinking of wildly different things. It wasn't too long before the woman finished dressing in her own Orb military uniform, however. She straightens out her uniform jacket, and adjusted it one last time.

Before joining Nergal, this was a uniform she's most familiar with during her early military career. Now that she's wearing one again, it newly bears the stripes of a higher ranking than when she first left.

"I haven't formally introduced myself, have I?" She voiced suddenly with a commanding tone. It made the younger officer once again snap back into reality and tensing back up into a salute. His back straighter than even the first one he did.

A loud clack fills the room, seemingly replacing all other ambient noise, as the woman kicked her shoes together. She slowly stood at attention. And then just as slowly raises her hand to salute in return. Teasingly so to assert her new position of power. In response, the young man gulped audibly, nearly breaking the silence she instilled.

"Marian Cross. Mobile suit pilot. Formerly of Nergal Heavy Industries, returning to duty as a commander of Orb National Defense Force," she said stoically. Letting the tense atmosphere linger for a brief moment longer...

And lazily putting down her hand. A signal the younger officer took to do the same. Her posture relaxes first, then the man following suit.

Soon after, an almost wicked smile crosses her face.

"Now, let's go see my new Gundam, shall we?"