#fire side chat

SAM ANSWERED MY QUESTION ON HIS FIRESIDE CHAT, OH GOD

IT WAS THE LAST QUESTION AND WHEN HE SAID MY USERNAME I ALMOST HAD A GOD DAMN STROKE

Yeah - it’s me. I’m coming to you from a lovely little blaze which is all that remains from a Zaibatsu outpost here in Alaska. 

Unfortunately, none of the Kazama punks were present, but I think I set them back a few million bucks by trashin’ this dump. So... there’s that... at least.

Anyway, as the fires die down and my beer runs low... I thought it might be nice to just have a chat and allow you - the reader - to get to know me - the psychotic murderous cyborg - a little better.

I don’t often get philosophical. My line of work doesn’t really uh, mesh well with that kind of thinking. If you’re gonna live long in the world I roll in, you do what the fuck you are told - when you are told - and you don’t ask questions. Oh... and bein’ a cyborg with nano-bots for blood cells and a graphene bound titanium core doesn’t hurt either.

I always followed orders - I liked orders. As a soldier you learn that early. My DI kicked my ass pretty hard when I was in basic. I was a smart ass kid then - big time sports hero - ROTC in college and I think my instructors realized that this snot nosed punk would be an officer one day and they seriously wanted to beat some humility into my fat, conceited head. 

I learned a lot in my time there and worked hard as hell to earn my commission. It was only a year after that and I was offered another promotion to captain. Becoming a captain is a serious milestone. You take that promotion and you’re pretty much a lifer. But I still had dreams of joining the IPO - I wanted to be a cop like my dad - so I said no, and got my discharge.

As I stand here watching the flames pop and jump, I can’t help thinking how different things would have been if I’d have just taken that promotion. Become a captain and staying with the military. I’d have been close to retirement now - or maybe not... maybe I’d have been some big ol’ fat colonel or even a general. Instead... I wound up gettiin’ double crossed by that little shit Lei Wu Long. I touched on that when I answered my buddy Theromus’ question here. Read it and weep. Whatever...

So, I get “killed” in that betrayal and also had the added bonus of being framed for some really fucked up shit I didn’t do. Now everyone believes I was a crooked cop. Nice... Real nice.

And while Dr. Abel put me back together and all - the one thing he couldn’t restore was my faith in humanity. I have a lot to get even for. Also - my new lease on cybernetic life didn’t come free. There’s a shadow group back at Langley that has me on a pretty short leash. And when they tell me somethin’ needs to be fixed - I’m the guy that fixes it. And by “fix” what we’re really referring to is killing people. What kind of people you ask? Pretty much anybody who gets their nose into my employer’s business. Or who might get their nose into my employers business. Sometimes it’s people who’s business my employer wants to get into. 

But it’s the life... the life itself that is really weird. I’m not exactly alive in the way some normal dude is. I’ll probably be around to see the end of the world. For real. My blood is literally made up of billions of little robots. Super tiny nano bots. The moment anything fucked up happens, they immediately rush medicine and healing agents to instantly rebuild any biological damage. They are also self replicating. I could eat fuckin’ bark off of a tree and those little bastards would break that shit down and put it to use. My internal cybernetic suite is connected to the internet, the dark web and every data base you can think of - plus a whole shit load of ones you can’t. I’m connected to satellites, cell towers and secure transmissions all over the world and I can see just about anywhere ol’ Uncle Sam can pry his star spangled ass into. 

The one thing that Dr. Abel did do - and I think he did this to keep me sane - was to give me the option to turn all that shit off. So now I can tap in when I need to, but I can also disconnect. The internal noise would have driven me nuts a long time ago and I think Dr. Abel knew just how dangerous a freaked out cyborg like me could get.