[ WP ] `` Hi , my name is Geraldine , I 'll be your soldier . ''

`` Hi, may name is Geraldine, I'll be your soldier'' said the tall uniformed figure leaning over me. 
 Wiping soot and ash from my face as I accept an offered hand, I rise to my feet, still shaking from the the shock of the blast wave which had levelled Procurement-316. All around us smoldering rubble and crumbling masonary confirmed that the war had at last come home. 
 
 Dazed and confused as I was, I tried to focus on my saviour, the soldier Geraldine. Tall, almost unnaturally so and with the strongest arms I have ever seen on such a slight frame, she stood a good five inches taller than myself, and I myself and not a short man at six foot. As I recall the mouments leading up to the blast I find that I can only focus on a few short details, concussion I imagine, but I know now that the war is in its last stages, and I'm not on the winning side. Yet I feel strangely confident about my chances, this tall, slim, powerful soldier is here and I know, I just know that she would die to save me. 
 
 Geraldine is, as I shall come to learn, an Angel, a saviour. Nothing so fantastical in this age of science and reason as a mythical winged messenger of God but a rational, engineered killing machine. If that sounds any better. She stands looking at me now, unknown thoughts flowing through her beautifully sculpted mind, a mind so capable of unrelenting lethality and yet here, now, saving an old man from the ruins of his hopes and dreams. 
 
 I do n't pretend to know much about the Angel Project, it was all very much rumours and speculation when I was working for the Defense Board, but that was near gone thiry years ago and I have long since retired from those circles. For those of you who do n't know though, the Angel Project was designed to make better soldiers. Stronger, tougher, faster, smarter. All the things that have made the great heros of the past great. Their DNA torn appart and put back together, distilling the best qualities you could desire and disgarding the rest. Of course, like all great programs of its kind, something went wrong. Something the scientists missed in their godly playroom, and so much like in the old stories the Angels rebelled, casting down their wrath upon their creators and breaking free from their servile bonds. Not all of them went of course, some moral sense of duty compelled many to stay and fulfil the purpose for which they were designed. 
 
 And so we stand in ruins of our own creation, a sinner and an Angel.
