“My bio? Wish I could give you everything, but the problem is………..I can’t. I can give you most of it, but the interesting things, all gone.” Dmitri paused as he took a log drink from a vodka bottle.
“Life started out well enough for me. My father was a senior member in the Vory syndicate back on Earth. I was raised as any spoiled rich criminal should be. I knew what my father did, but I really didn’t care. I liked the money and reputation of my family. I learned not to talk, ever. Well, until now.”
“I was always towing the line. My mother wanted me to act like a straight upstanding citizen, make the family proud. Mostly, I did. It kept the family out of the spotlight, which was a good thing. I went to school for politics. I really didn’t like it, but that’s what my father wanted: a negotiator. My uncle saw into me though. He made me an interrogator. I was a natural. I could get anything out of anyone. I also saw patterns where there shouldn’t be any. I kepy my mind fresh braking codes and making patterns. My mom used to say that I wanted to ‘make order from chaos’, and maybe she was right.” Another long pull from the bottle.
“Then came the Fall. I was 30. Everything changed overnight; I don’t care what history says. The next thing I know, the family is moving out to a ship heading for Mars. Mars, what a lousy planet. The entire family made to Mars safely. Our reception wasn’t a blessing here. The League knew my family, and apparently had an axe to grind. Rangers met us at the port. My father and I were arrested on the spot. My mom, sister and grandmother were allowed to leave. My uncle decided that death was preferable to what the League had in mind. He was shot to death by the Rangers. His stack was retrieved and went with the Rangers somewhere. I wish I would have joined him. Instead I was taken to a detention center and held for a week. At the end of the week I was taken to some type of Black Op center. The last thing I remember was being wheeled into surgery.”
A pause while Dmitri finishes the bottle.
"The next thing I know, I’m in the slums of Olympus. Jeeves has no memory of what happened, and neither do I. I have a ten year memory gap. I’m sleeved into a male Fury morph. No gear, no memory and no cred. Luckily, one of my old family contacts finds me. I convince I am who I say I am and I’m sent to Nocturnus. For the next year I do odd jobs, body-guarding, wet-work, ego hunting, you name it to get cred and gear. I find that I have a lot more skills than I used to. For one, I’m a lot better at gaining access to places I shouldn’t. Another is the ability to use seekers. Pistols I’ve always been good with, but seekers?”
"So, according to your techs, the memory block is pretty intense. Hypercorp intense. I’m still thinking the League had something to do with it. They also say if they try to remove it, I’m hosed. So I guess it can stay. Besides, I’ve found a few things on my own: an old vid of my fury with Direct Action just outside the Zone, another story that has a still of my fury doing a lot of bad things to some Barsoomians and the messages that started coming in while I sleep. They bother me the most. I haven’t been able to track them. They just come and go. Calling me a murderer…………………………. and worse.”
“So that’s it! An ego without a memory with skills it can’t explain and something sending me messages.”
“Still want me in on this?”
