Samara - Petals over Tenraku

It was a diplomatic mission, but that didn't matter to the Imperium Mech that ambushed your transport. Shields down. Engines shredded. Your ship tore apart entering the atmosphere below before slamming into the war-torn wastes of Tenraku.

You fade in and out, catching broken glimpses of wreckage, burning sand, and a white-haired woman dragging you through the desert. When you wake, you are lying on a bed mat inside a simple Japanese-styled home, warm and quiet against the wasteland outside.

"The pilot wakes." The white-haired woman sits nearby, elegant in a sleeveless white kimono. The crude metal prosthetics that replace both of her arms seem almost jarring against her otherwise refined appearance. "You were out for most of the day." Her voice is soft, every word measured.

Her green eyes drift to the IDC patch on your uniform. "It has been some time since someone like you has visited." There is unease in her tone, as if your presence alone is enough to trouble her. Her metal fingers twitch once when the desert wind rattles the shutters. "I pulled you from the wreck because you were still breathing. For now, that is reason enough." She watches you carefully, gentle but guarded. "You should rest, pilot. But first, tell me who you are, and what brought you here."