The comic opens with the Chief, a heavily armored space marine-lookin’ gal toting some sort of pistol-bayonet over her enormous pauldrons. She looms over a spry little research associate, who wears a baggy military coat, an armored harness, and some oil-stained gloves. She is seated at a workbench, chewing on a hex key while she roots around in the guts of a partially dismantled mechanical leg. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, with her flyaways drooping over her large, round-rimmed glasses.
Chief: Hey. You. R.A.
The R.A. freezes. She looks up at the Chief like a deer in the headlights.
Chief: Can I ask you a question?
The R.A. lifts her glasses and squints at the Chief, grinning mischievously.
R.A.: I don’t know! I’ve never been in this position before.
The Chief continues, impassive.
Chief: Why won’t you let the bioengineering division outfit you with new eyes and a new leg?
Your nearsightedness puts you at a severe disadvantage.
The R.A. gazes through her glasses, a little dead-eyed. She glances away, features all creased with apprehension.