I was there when the end came, seeing the carnage firsthand as a soldier on the battlefield when my squad met its fate, and only I survived to tell of it.
As terrible as things were, I was lucky, so perhaps I’ll make it through the month with enough food to wait out the arrival of the rescue drones, as long as I conserve my rations and avoid the Corporation’s mechadacoits that this planet is crawling with.
I’ll also need to evade their cyber-hounds, but there’s a good chance of succeeding in that with the proper scent masking. I’ve the right vegetation to do it with, and plenty of time. I’ll stink like hell, but I’ll get through this in one piece.
At least that’s the plan, so I can make this work. Here’s hoping the rescue drones find me soon.