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[Bayushi Tamago]

[I am working on developing the full story for Bay here. I am going to be using this thread for the memoir style stories I am writing to establish her background. Teaser story I posted over in Char Dev is going here first and then I will post more as I go, and redo the Char Dev into a proper sheet as things progress. I am hoping for feedback as I go, especially if I've goofed on something lore wise I missed. Eventually, I will start posting random non-origin story stuff as well in various forms.]

I miss her. I miss her smile. I will never forget the way she could kill a target from a thousand yards away, or, cause such a delightful amount of euphoria by being ever so close. Well, you would get to enjoy it just long enough to not notice that she had caused your death.

She was a good partner, a friend, and sometimes, well, I think you can finish that sentence yourself. Jade was amazing, she taught me well - how to survive - using your wits, hands and whatever was around to get through the day, the mission and life.

After the accident though, she disappeared. I'm not sure if the bosses thought she was too high a risk or if they simply thought she'd passed her prime. Either way, she was gone, and I'd have to break a lot of rules, and probably more than a few limbs in order to find her again. Now is not the time.

*sips drink*

I have moved on the best I can, as remaining attached to someone can often mean death in my position. At least she can't be harmed anymore though. That's the problem with this line of work - having attachments often leads to heartbreak. Sometimes, it even leads to your judgement getting called into question, merely because everything you care for can be taken away with the flash of a muzzle or the slash of a blade. Some people can't handle the disassociation from their past lives. It took me a while, but I didn't get my reputation crying in a corner over a loved one. I earned it. Some call me inhuman for being so densensitized to it all, but if I could feel that kind of pain still, I'd be in a room, giving myself hugs, permanently. I know people who've gone there. It's not pretty.

Memory augmentation is wonderful, for those who wish to forget something minor and insignificant. If I was able to retire, neuroplasticity would do me no good, the memories are too important, the reflexes ingrained too deep. Even if it did work, I don't /want/ to forget what I've been through. Experiences shape who you are, and I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the things I've seen, the things I've done. Hell, I'd be dead if it weren't for the people that sacrificed themselves for me.

I don't have a illness, or at least not anymore, it's a way of life for me now.  It orginally was for my health, but I was cured, and now it's not only a way to keep her alive in my soul, but to also increase survival outside of my pod. Being able to do a job without needing a tac vest to protect the core organs makes for much easier dispatching of packages. I could tell you how I came to find the Faith, however, that is a story for another time.

In another life, I helped operate corporations and alliances across the cluster, and even some residing in Anoikis. A lot of good that did me though.

*sips*

I used to command small gangs, rarely more than 10 people, collecting Sleeper tech inside of w-space. Sometimes I'd leave the darkness and come back to the bustle of empire space, but I was at home in the recesses of that region. I miss living there, but every time I got comfortable, the bureaucracy, my fellow directors, would cause some kind of melodrama, and I would move on. Not out of choice either, mostly just because I have no tolerance for bullshit, or drama. The most recent group I was working alongside are the ones who dragged me into my line of work. Not by inclusion though, but by forcing me out and thus, I find myself here. I would have been pushed out an airlock by now if it weren't for my friends, or the Faith.

Connections are a wonderful thing. In business, connections get you up a ladder and keep you there. In my business, they keep you alive, and well stocked with tasks. The pay may not always be top dollar, but at this point, sometimes the thrill or challenge makes up for the lower pay grade. Takes a pretty impressive job for me to be willing to haggle on my prices though.

It's not just what you know, but /who/ you know.

[Bayushi Tamago]

[This is the story of my partner Jade, told in parts as it is a long, complex story that leads into other events, and as such will be posted as I find logical stopping points in my writing.]

I remember a tent. It was small, crowded with various trinkets which were scattered about the room. The walls were made of a weird muted cherry red colour, I haven't seen much like it since then and a weird smell, could never quite figure out what it was. By the time I was able to try to figure it out, the memory was too faded to determine what it was.

I was a small, naive girl then, maybe 4 or 5, and I was so happy because I was visiting my best friend. Her family didn't have much, but that didn't matter - we were inseparable, may as well have been sisters. We didn't know much about the world, even when we were teenagers. You know the type, off on quafe binges, popping a couple crystal eggs or even some blue pills when we were feeling especially reckless. As with most stories like this, we got into a fair bit of trouble with the law during our adventures. The cops planetside got sick of dealing with us. Almost ended up in jail, until some capsuleers intervened.

They didn't rescue us, actually quite the opposite. Now, I'm going to stop you right there. We didn't get sold into sex trade, or slavery - well, at least not your normal kind.

We were dragged to boot camp. Young enough that everyone on base knew we weren't enlisted, but old enough to pass inspection when civilians came on base. Some kind of rehab, yelled at, pushed into the mud, combat drills, we were there to have our spirits broken, but there's more than one way to crack an egg. They schooled us too, on how important it was to honour our families, how we needed to learn our lesson, grow up, and get what they called a 'pencil pusher' job. Now, as we were Caldari citizens, we not only owed time to the State with mandatory service, we now owed our lives to them - without this program, we would have died from stimulants or a deal gone wrong. They drilled into our heads the honour we should feel being in the presence of servicemen and women, how we should strive to improve ourselves, and it stuck - a bit too well. They didn't trust us - we were a risk they didn't want to take on longer than they had to, even offered to excuse us from mandatory duty so long as we kept our noses clean.

Guess what? It didn't work. The two of us were so stubborn, so rebellious, that we told them we didn't want their offer, but in not so many words. We ran our drills, kept getting up every time they pushed us down and yelled right back at them. They didn't like that last part, but we were putting up a fight, we didn't want to lose the battle of wits. I wasn't holding up as well as she did, but she kept me going when my mind wanted out, to escape.