I was 17 when i joined the Marines, not much choice in the matter, damn Humanis Club frags killed my Dad and Mom. All they did was give a shit about the new Elves and Dwarves that started showin up.
That made me rather bitter, though i was raised by my Dad's father, kind ol' Sioux Chieftain, Full-Blooded, knew the old ways, knew the old Magic of the People, saw him sling Magic too at the Great Ghost Dance, showed that there was power in those steps and words.
Joined up, became a killer real young, fought in all kinds of HellHoles, North Africa, Asia, Europe, South and Central America, hell even at home. I was good at it too, kinda enjoyed it as will, they even gave me medals for it. 30 years of it, places and faces, too many to remember, grew cold, distant.
Saw men turn into Trolls and Orks, that scared a lot of people, really freaked out the Top Brass and the know-it-all scientists. Then it happened to me, and at the damndest time too, was a Major ya' see, gonna be promoted to Light Colonal. Took them friggen long enough too, guess i killed enough people, who knows.
But Fate, Karma, God, Kibo, who the frag knows, decided to make a change, i was Dracenformed, the fancy, yet oh so lame term they give us poor bastards who became Dracens. Dragons who walked as Humans or Homo Sapiens Draconis for the unwashed masses.
Well that right there sent me packing, i was drummed out, a Honorable Discharge from the Marines, thanks fellahs, thanks for 30 years of nothing. So what was a newly reborn Dracen to do' I had, according to the so-called genius scientists another 500 or 600 years to live. Well there was only one thing to do, go Merc.
And merc i went, did the same thing i did in the Marine Recon, only the pay and the toys were a helluva lot better. Ah you gotta love Corperations, greedy as all hell, but they pay good for results, and they dont care how you do it.
So another 20 years, if i was human, i would be too damn old for this, but no such luck, i'm a Dracen, only other Metatypes that well live as long are Elves. Fought in the same places, same crap, different players. Even went up against other Marines, like they knew who i was, scales tend to do that.
Now here i am on this rock, God knows how far from planet Earth, its like Seattle or anywhere else, you got your Elves, Dwarves, Orks, and Trolls, plus Faeries, Dragons and even Vampires, Thank Kibo there are no Ghouls, i hate those damn things, and would frag a pack in a hot nanosecond. Less tech too, good in a way, though i hear there is a Spaceport, gotta check that out.
I'm off kiddies, see ya round, this old Marine has stuff to do, peace...
-End of Data Journel X10R77-01M.1-
That made me rather bitter, though i was raised by my Dad's father, kind ol' Sioux Chieftain, Full-Blooded, knew the old ways, knew the old Magic of the People, saw him sling Magic too at the Great Ghost Dance, showed that there was power in those steps and words.
Joined up, became a killer real young, fought in all kinds of HellHoles, North Africa, Asia, Europe, South and Central America, hell even at home. I was good at it too, kinda enjoyed it as will, they even gave me medals for it. 30 years of it, places and faces, too many to remember, grew cold, distant.
Saw men turn into Trolls and Orks, that scared a lot of people, really freaked out the Top Brass and the know-it-all scientists. Then it happened to me, and at the damndest time too, was a Major ya' see, gonna be promoted to Light Colonal. Took them friggen long enough too, guess i killed enough people, who knows.
But Fate, Karma, God, Kibo, who the frag knows, decided to make a change, i was Dracenformed, the fancy, yet oh so lame term they give us poor bastards who became Dracens. Dragons who walked as Humans or Homo Sapiens Draconis for the unwashed masses.
Well that right there sent me packing, i was drummed out, a Honorable Discharge from the Marines, thanks fellahs, thanks for 30 years of nothing. So what was a newly reborn Dracen to do' I had, according to the so-called genius scientists another 500 or 600 years to live. Well there was only one thing to do, go Merc.
And merc i went, did the same thing i did in the Marine Recon, only the pay and the toys were a helluva lot better. Ah you gotta love Corperations, greedy as all hell, but they pay good for results, and they dont care how you do it.
So another 20 years, if i was human, i would be too damn old for this, but no such luck, i'm a Dracen, only other Metatypes that well live as long are Elves. Fought in the same places, same crap, different players. Even went up against other Marines, like they knew who i was, scales tend to do that.
Now here i am on this rock, God knows how far from planet Earth, its like Seattle or anywhere else, you got your Elves, Dwarves, Orks, and Trolls, plus Faeries, Dragons and even Vampires, Thank Kibo there are no Ghouls, i hate those damn things, and would frag a pack in a hot nanosecond. Less tech too, good in a way, though i hear there is a Spaceport, gotta check that out.
I'm off kiddies, see ya round, this old Marine has stuff to do, peace...
-End of Data Journel X10R77-01M.1-