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Cue Sachiel marching out of Boston Harbor. The Team, consisting of myself, a prodigy berserker who my character thinks is cute, a neospartan skirmisher, and a neospartan AT Tac, intercept him and kick his ass. Time passes, and we're at rank 3-4. We get the call, get in our plugs, and are fired up to the surface. Seems a giant alien panther creature has been tearing up the harbor district with laser beam eyes and retardedly sharp claws. I charge into combat as usual, and promptly start getting my ass kicked by this thing. Half a dozen rounds later, my eva is really badly torn up, when the Angel hits the Evas body with a blast from the Laser Eyes. The entry plug is torn apart and I take 58 personal scale damage, killing Sharon quite handily. As she was screaming for support on that video screen thingy the plugs have, the entire party watches me die. The Berserker does not take this kindly. He snaps, and starts ranting about how "That alien bastard killed Sharon!" and so on. He spends a fate point to roll his chance to Berserk (House rule of the GM), and his eva starts tearing Pantheriel a new asshole, eventually resulting in the Skirmisher firing a point blank blast from a Positron rifle into the core.
After the combat is over and the Berserker has snapped out of it, they haul the remains of my entry plug out of my eva, and everyone says a few words. The GM hands out XP and everyone else starts to pack up, when he says "I'm not finished. Ok Sharon, you wake up in a glass tube filled with LCL, you can't see anything beyond the faint glow given out by some medical equipment. Furthermore, you can't seem to remember anything that happened in the last day or so. As you float there in the tube, a number of burning lights spear into the room. You can see some kind of observation room up near the ceiling. Sub-Commander Douglas and Doctor Randall are standing there, watching."
Turns out I was a Manufactured all along.