Samuel_Tow

I'm assuming it will involve everyone else in the Freedom Phalanx that Matt Miller didn't make and hasn't been introduced or powered-up within the last couple of issues dying a horrible death that the player hero is too late to prevent, but still able to see in a very lengthy cutscene, while villains are following the orders of a much more important, much cooler villain in assisting those deaths for the promise of "power" which then turns into "for the greater good."

Was that seriously all one sentence?

Chapter 5

I hate conspiracies. There are no grand philosophical conclusions to draw from this statement, I merely wanted to “put it out there,” as it were. And, yes, I realise this may seem like a hypocritical statement for a woman in my... Line of work. After all, do covert operations not make up the bulk of a mercenary’s contracts? To be honest... Not really. Most wise mercenaries – by which I mean most mercenaries who have survived long enough to become wise in the first place – simply know better than to touch contracts that have to do with high-class political intrigue. These simply never pay well. One would think that concerned parties would be willing to pay through the nose, so to speak, in order to ensure their hired arms’... Discretion. One would be wrong more often than not, for more often than not, said concerned parties would opt to silence their mercenaries, instead. Conspiracies and a complete lack of trust go hand in hand, after all. Or gun in back, as the case may be.

Now, when it comes to mercenary work in general, hiring an operative and then not paying her is popularly considered to be... Very poor manners. Being nothing if not polite, mercenaries tend to be... Upset when this happens, and after being hired by a contract holder who then attempted to have me assassinated, I was left more than a little cross. Though dealing with Skip and his overarching galactic conspiracy was an important endeavour, finding my dear benefactor took precedence. He had taken great pains to cover his tracks, especially after learning of the outcome on Neen, but locating him still did not prove very difficult. I have a certain... Talent for finding those who do not wish to be found. Disappointingly, the man knew nothing of the ones who had hired him to set me up and, even worse, he simply did not have enough money to cover my fee. As a token of my understanding and forgiving nature, I removed his head in a very... Direct manner. This, however, is nowhere near as... Macabre as it might sound. My contact was a Rass regenerator, thus every part of his body would... Well, regenerate if severed. It just caused an indescribable amount of pain for the duration of the process. Hopefully enough to make that man think twice before choosing to deprive a mercenary of her pay a second time.

With this unpleasant business concluded, however, I had no recourse but to deal with the far more unpleasant business of babysitting my resident manchild... I apologise. I should not speak this way of Skip, but the memories of our first few days together... They burn my mind! To stay on topic, I had hoped that I would be able to discard Skip in an expedient fashion, but it transpired that the situation was rather more... Complex. The data inside his mind was easy enough to extract, and did indeed look very damning for several members of the Praxian Council, but to use it as evidence – or in other words, to make it worth selling – would require access to the Praxian Overmind, the galaxy-wide database of Praxain high society affairs. Normally, breaking through the Council’s firewalls and... Appropriating their data would not have constituted a meaningful problem, but our dear conspirators had, as is their nature, conspired to make my life considerably more difficult by means of encoding their entire database. Finding a way past this protection would prove... Problematic, and require a “source” that we would not run across for a very long time. A very long time which I would have to spend with Skip. Sadly, I could not just abandon him on some random planet for fear of having him assassinated for his involvement. Though I did consider it...

Thus began one of the most difficult periods of my life – taking care of Skip and making peace with his unique... Point of view on the subject of “romance.” Goodness me... To explain, here is what made things so complicated. I had modelled my shell after the body of Lin, whom I admired greatly, and who was, in fact, a very beautiful Lirian woman. Because Praxian physique was very similar to that of the Lirians and because Skip was an awkward fool, he found my shell irresistibly attractive in the physical sense. It is said that the two species shared a common ancestor aeons before, but do you honestly feel I was in any sort of mood to ponder genealogy when I had to rebuff an annoying man’s advances day in and day out? Sealing Skip in the airlock and setting it on an automatic atmosphere vent cycle was partially effecting in reining the man in. I did not murder him, obviously – if I had wanted to, I would not have bothered dragging his sorry hide all over the cosmos. No, but it scared him straight... Somewhat.

To be honest, however, despite his obnoxious antics, Skip was actually the first person in a very long while that I had ever allowed myself to trust. And it was not his honour and integrity I trusted, goodness no! What I trusted was that Skip was simply not smart enough to betray me. What I trusted was that his hormone-addled brain idealised my body, thus Skip would never consider betraying me. It may have been patronising and insulting of me, granted, but I trusted the man more than I had another in what felt like an eternity. After a lifetime dealing with shady individuals who had no compunctions of murdering me if given the chance, thus forcing me to have a plan to kill practically everyone I met, it was refreshing to be with a person who, despite making me dumber for interacting with him, was completely and entirely genuine. Skip never wanted to betray or trick me. If anything, he sought to impress me, though his attempts were... So unsuccessful as to be nearly self-destructive. Yet still, over time, being in his presence stopped stressing me out, so to speak. Having someone I was not worried to turn my back on can be... Alluringly refreshing.

Without realising it, I had grown soft on the poor man. I laughed at his horrible, insulting jokes less because I thought they were genuinely amusing... Goodness no! I laughed because they reminded me of a simpler time when I saw the world though the same innocent, trusting eyes, a time when I was not constantly aware of the horrible dangers that lurked all around us. Skip reminded me of myself when Lin and I first met – wild, uncontrolled... Stupid. All Skip ever wanted was to go on an adventure, have fun and live life to its fullest, and all I ever did was slap him down for how dangerous and reckless he was being. True, it was well deserved most of the time. I cannot imagine how stopping him from trying to surf down an active lava flow – he actually asked to do this – was anything but a good decision. Still, his spirit was something I found that I was missing. I missed being reckless, I missed being bold, I missed... I missed having fun, honestly.

Sadly, growing soft on Skip had the effect of convincing him that his... Charms were having an effect, leading us into quite a few... Uncomfortable encounters. One of these was so uncomfortable, in fact, I left him to get eaten by Shakni insect creatures on a barren moon. Heh... I just kicked his hide out of the airlock and left him there... For all of about five minutes until I cooled off, before landing back down to retrieve him. I paid a hefty price for that particular stunt, however, as it turned out the Shakni were more... Resilient en masse than one might extrapolate from encountering them alone. Skip, of course, “knew” I would come back, such was his ego. He played confident, but I knew that, even if just for a mere moment, the thought that I might actually abandon him did cross his mind, and it scared the man. Enough for him to apologise to me, which came as a shock to my system. I never found out if what scared him was getting left to die, or whether he actually felt bad about hurting me enough to go as far as I did. Foolish as it may be of me, I do hope it is the latter, but with that man, you never knew.

Life with Skip changed after that... Incident. He apologised to me, I apologised to him... Begrudgingly, and without my notice, our relationship became significantly more genuine. Of course, Skip still maintained his lecherous antics, but they lacked the fire they had had before, transforming more into a kind of running joke between us. It became, in fact, almost something of a ritual. He would make some lewd, badly inappropriate comment at me, I would get angry at him, but when all was said and done, we would both leave with a shy smile. I realise this probably says something very demeaning about me as a person, but honestly... I did not care at the time. Mercenary work had consumed my life at that point, as I did not know what to do with myself during downtime, so having someone to share said downtime with was... Pleasant. Yes, our... “Games” were inane and insensitive, but in time, they lost their original meaning. Instead, our regular “quarrels” were becoming the outlet for what was shaping up to be a genuine friendship. I must admit, this I did not expect.

I suppose the real truth of the matter is that, somewhere along the way, Skip simply grew up. He learned to fight for himself, and unexpectedly well, he began taking on more responsibilities... Sometimes with more success than others... And he generally started helping me out. Actually helping, not just trying and failing as he had been before. Without realising it, I was no longer carrying Skip’s weight as I once had. He had become an equally contributing member of our little team. The first time this became evident to me was during a particularly... Unpleasant mission which saw me squaring off against a veritable army of Praxian commandos, all for the sake of breaking Skip out of a prison cell. The circumstances around that particular mission are... Too embarrassing to explain, but I will mention that it was his own fault for bragging about his identity in a bar. The idiot. I suffered a very nasty, debilitating injury just as I freed Skip, to which he responded by grabbing his guards’ own weapons and fighting our way back out to our shuttle, carrying my inert body on his back the entire way. This left me... Not “smitten,” but... Very impressed, to say the least. The encounter finally forced me to wake up and see Skip as the capable man he had become, as opposed to the foolish boy I had dragged with me off an uninhabited world kicking and screaming.

And though he matured, Skip never lost his knack for having terrible, suicidal ideas. But where before those were born out of a stir-crazy youth vastly overestimating his own abilities, now these “insane plans,” as he liked to say, were instead born out of the confidence of a cheeky but experienced mercenary with a penchant for beating the odds. In fact, Skip came dangerously close to overshadowing my own exploits, which... I am embarrassed to admit... Turned our adventures into a sort of one-upsmanship competition of guts and poor judgement. We each strove to impress the other with ever more ambitious and... “Exciting” ideas, and to be completely honest, I... Enjoyed it. Greatly. It had been so, so many years since I last saw decent action, just because I was always “smart” about my involvement and never picked any of the jobs which sounded exciting. Why go for a dangerous contract when I can take a few quick, easy ones and make the same money, if not more?

Like Lin before him, Skip served to remind me of what I had started out trying to achieve all along, all the way back since I escaped the fall of my Tererian predecessors – self-determination. I had set out to forge my own identity and write my own story, yet for so many years, I had simply let circumstances shape who I was. On the day of this realisation, I resolved to take my life back into my hands and show Skip just how much... Fun I can be. No longer would I be the spoilsport who constantly criticised his stupid plans, oh, no. I would exceed them with my own stupid plans, and then some. Though I... May have overdone it just a tad, as my skills had grown somewhat... Rustier than I remembered them. It would certainly explain both of us nearly getting killed on multiple occasions. Nevertheless, we still came out laughing and, more importantly, we still came out alive. Because, really – what fun is life if you never take chances? What fun is life if it is lived in the security and certainty of complete safety? This was not the life for us, oh no. Instead, Skip and I forged a largely unspoken agreement of audacity: If we were not fighting for our lives, we were probably being far too cautious and missing out on far too much. Who needs to live forever, after all? Heh...

This sort of easy-going abandon soon came to an end, however. After so many years of chasing false leads in regards to Skip’s conspiracy evidence that I started intermittently forgetting we were even involved with it at all, our luck finally turned around. A Praxian defector seeking protection from the very same conspirators Skip and I had been on the run from offered to help us gain access to the Praxian Overmind. Exposing the conspiracy would obviously save his hide, which is why he agreed to help, and it would also solve our long-lived problem of endless persecution. It is disappointing that the... Climaxes of most major stories in my life are never as exciting as the many little side stories along the way. This one was no exception. Gaining access involved infiltrating a Praxian embassy data centre and planting a “bug” on a terminal – a simple task I had long since perfected. Skip and our defector friend provided a distraction... By setting off multiple explosive charges around the building in an unnecessarily enormous but very pretty light show. This allowed me to bypass the facility’s security with greatly disappointing ease, especially in comparison to the near suicide mission we had undertaken just prior. Anticlimactic, yes, but the deed was done.

The fallout from exposing the Praxian conspiracy was... Honestly not terribly engaging. For the sake of completeness, allow me to summarise as best I can. Several high-ranking members of the Praxian council had spearheaded an insane project of annihilation. They were developing a sentient virus based on Tererian technology – because everything always has to go back to that, apparently – which would seek out and kill all life in the galaxy except for the “racially pure” Praxians. The idea, from what I understood of their circular logic religion, was to reincarnate the old Praxian Dynasty and again rule the galaxy as the greatest species to ever exist. Ambitious, yes, but foolish in the extreme. Essentially, this was a rebirth of the same old dogma that the Praxians had espoused during the Lirian war, which had apparently never fully gone away despite considerable evidence to its folly.

To be honest, pseudo-political, quasi-religious self-righteous nonsense was never terribly interesting to me. I am certain there was more to this conspiracy, but I have forgotten many of the finer details, and I am happier for it. What mattered was that the Praxian Council, embarrassed that their own people would undertake such a repugnant plot, carried out a series of purges which, to the best of my knowledge, eradicated all remaining holdovers of that particular... Madness and peace reigned in the universe forever. Well, not really, not at all, but that is the spin they put on it. Typical. Skip and I were, of course, never mentioned. In our involvement, we had uncovered rather a lot of... Compromising evidence against the Praxians Council’s other... Indiscretions besides just that conspiracy, and this made us enemies of the state. Of course. Still, the Council did show at least some... Leniency? They simply never put much effort or resources into the manhunt for our heads, forcing us into a sort of unofficial ceasefire. As long as we did not bother the Council or bring up any of the secrets we had learned, they would not try to kill us. Not too much, at least. All things considered, the outcome could have been much worse, though it could probably have been better.

However, with the circumstance which had conspired to drive Skip and I to work together resolved... Something happened that I cannot fully explain. With our great adventure complete, I... Stupidly made a comment to the effect that maybe it is time we parted ways. I do not know why I said this, it was not even a joke, just something I blurted out without even thinking about it. Skip gave me a surprised look, then while I was fumbling for a way to salvage the situation, he simply agreed, made an excuse and retired to his quarters. This left me... Confused. I could not imagine he was serious, but... What if he were? What if Skip really did want to end our partnership... To end our friendship? All of the resentment I had once felt for Skip now seemed so far away while a very real, very physical sort of fear gripped my mind. What if this really is it, I had to wonder. Am I prepared to be alone again? What have I done?

Try as I might, I could not make these thoughts go away, even late into the night. They gnawed on me, slowly transforming my fear into a helpless panic I could simply not wrap my mind around. I had not spoken with Skip because... What was I going to say? “Please do not leave?” How could I? But it still ate at me. Could he really do this? And why did I care about it so much? That was the real question. I thought about these things so much, but found no answers. Not until Skip himself visited me in my quarters. Seeing his face at first put my mind at ease, but his expression worried me greatly. He did not meet me with a joke or a sarcastic comment as was his way. Instead, he spoke frankly to me in a way I had not heard him speak before. Skip was never serious. He was a wildcard, a joker always looking for fun, adventure and love in all the wrong places, but that night, he was none of these things. That night he spoke from his heart. And his words shook my world to its very core. Skip confessed to feelings, to... Desires. Eventually, he even confessed to...

This is perhaps where translation breaks down somewhat. Everything I have quoted so far, I have translated from the original language in which it was spoken, and often translated loosely. However, never before has so much depended on the meaning of just a single word. I try to pick my own words very carefully when I can. It makes things... Simpler. Yet here, I can think of no better word to use than “love.” Skip confessed his love to me, and that I was not prepared for. Very literally not prepared. It was not just the surprise of the revelation that threw me off, though that was a large part of it. No, it was the fact that I... Had never really thought about Skip in this way before. At all. I started wondering... Could I really feel the same way, too? It seemed likely. Could I even be in love considering what I am? That crossed my mind, as well. What about the physical implications of this? And why is my mind racing as though I am at the same time scared witless and unbelievably excited. Was I... Hoping I could hear him say those words all along? Was I?

Skip spoke, and he spoke at length. First he was apologetic, then understanding, then benevolent, but to my eyes, he simply seemed afraid to stop. It felt like he was convinced that as soon as he had confessed, our... Relationship would end. I could hear the desperation in his voice, see the sadness in his eyes. This was a man experiencing loss of the sort that I well remembered, and it broke my heart to hear him speak with such sorrow, such... Loneliness. Without thinking, my body acted of its own accord. I grabbed Skip and held onto him as he held on to me tightly, desperately. I cannot say either of us understood what it was that we were feeling, not consciously, at any rate. All we knew was that we wanted to make this moment, this feeling, this rush of emotion last just a little longer... Just a little longer still. My mind could not comprehend the situation, but in that one, single moment, it did not seem to matter. My heart knew what it wanted, and nothing would stand in its way. I surrendered to this single, powerful emotion that I had unwittingly suppressed for so... So long. Just for a brief moment, it felt as though time had stopped... Just for one powerful, beautiful moment it was just the two of us. No games, no pretence, no reservations. Just the two of us, and that feeling... This one powerful, all-encompassing feeling which I will never, ever forget.

As suddenly as it had set in, our moment ended. Skip and I returned to our senses, pulled away and sank in awkward silence. We were both afraid of our feelings, we tried to hide them, to deny them, to make things go back to the way they had been before. But there was no turning back, not after... Not after that. Though we lacked the words to say it, we both realised this very well. And I... Found myself happier for it, despite my embarrassment. Shame and happiness melded together into a new, powerful emotion. I cannot explain what it was that Skip had said which made everything click together in my mind, but his confession forced me to confront my own feelings for him, as well. All of his bad jokes, all of his embarrassing come-ons, all of the inane things he had said to me... I had grown so used to seeing them as the unserious joshing of a prat that I had never realised the genuine, strong emotions behind them. For the longest time, Skip had confessed his feelings but hid behind the excuse of “only kidding.” For the longest time, I was hiding my own emotions behind an exterior of irritated resentment when, internally, I found comfort in this one constant in my life. We lived together, fought together, we shared our lives and our dreams... And like a childish fool, I never realised how much I cared for Skip, my sweet, lovable oaf. Heh...

I blame myself for this... Miscommunication. I was simply unprepared for the... Implications of romantic feelings, to say nothing of physical attraction. When I first copied Lin’s body, I did it because I admired her spirit and her physical aesthetics, but at the same time, I never actually saw myself as the woman I had shaped myself to be. Instead, I saw myself as a “thing,” a mechanical device possessed of sentience. When others commented on my... Curves, I took it as superficial attraction and objectification, nothing more. But Skip cared for me. He did not want just a pretty body or just a caring person or even just a competent protector. He wanted ME – mind, body and everything else included. Until that day, I had always felt foreign in my shell, as though wearing a suit I could swap out at a moment’s notice. Which, in practical terms, was very much true. On that day, I finally felt at home in my own body... At home in my own mind. On that day, I became a real person.

Sappy? Probably. Embarrassing? Definitely. Yet it is nevertheless entirely true. The real magic of it all is that I am no longer afraid of my emotions... No longer afraid of my heart, so to speak. When I make statements like “what fun is life without a little danger,” I realise that what I am saying carries foolish, self-destructive implications. Rationally speaking, accepting this notion is a mistake. But this is the catch about being a real person, is it not? Not everything we feel is rational. Not everything we want can be justified to exacting evidence. Not everything we are can be explained, or indeed should be explained. We pursue our hearts, our dreams, our many aspirations even when doing so seems silly, hopeless and a terrible waste of time. We do it because, ultimately, it is exactly this... Heart which makes us alive. Admittedly, I do not have a physical heart as such, simply because my mechanical body had no need for one. But this is largely beside the point, so to speak, as it is the metaphysical, emotional heart which makes us alive, whether we have one or two or none real ones.

But I feel I am starting to ramble of philosophies and metaphysical nonsense. The strength of the emotions I have had to retell makes my mind... Unfocused, so I feel it is best if I break the story here. There is still more to tell, however, and Skip does play a part in it, but this is best left as a whole other story for a whole other time, no?

There are a few layers to this that we should probably examine separately:

Level 1 - New power EFFECTS: Take practically any powerset that isn't melee and look at it with cynical eyes. You'll soon realise that the actual animations for any of the powers aren't really important. What's important is the effects of those powers. You could, potentially, have all powers from all Blast sets use the exact same animation and still have a dozen different sets with a dozen different powers each if you vary the visual effects of the powers.

What this means is that new animations can be shared. Hell, old animations can be shared, too. Moreover, this means that new effects can be created for existing powers without messing with animations at all. Sniper Blast, for instance, can have the option of being a "bullet-beam" or a giant fireball or an energy beam proper or something else altogether and still work with the exact same two animations it has now.

Level 2 - New power animations: Just about anything melee comes down to animation, primarily. This is because melee attacks rely, in large part, on exciting, full-body poses and flashy, fully-body animations. For most melee powersets, the visual effects are less important than the animations, and many sets, especially the ones with weapons, don't really have very strong effects anyway.

What this means is that melee sets can really benefit from new animations, especially the Sword/Mace/Axe family as they're very similar and very basic. Super Strength, Energy Melee and the elemental melee sets can probably also benefit from new animations, despite their being more heavily based in effects.

Level 3 - Entire new power animations: Many powers can benefit from both new animations and new effects. Boradsword is a good example, actually. Yes, the set can use some better animations, but the set can also use more flashy effects. Some of Broadsword's most impressive powers are Disembowel and Head Splitter specifically because they use the "pillar of pain" effect. Look at something like Dual Blades, for instance - despite being a "light" weapon set, it is still replete with screen shake and some nasty flash effects which communicate power. Few older sets do this.

Level 4 - Overriding activation sequences: Having non-weapon sets customizable to use weapons and having weapon sets customizable to use bare hands or a different weapon category is a very common request. Though it very likely requires new tech that doesn't exist, it's still something the art team should be looking into very seriously. This is quite literally one of the VERY few frontiers left for City of Heroes to conquer in the realm of customizability.

What this means is I want to, for instance, shoot my Fire Blast out of a gun or fire my rifle attacks out of twin pistols, or perhaps enact my Fiery Melee through a set of entirely fire sword attacks. This would constitute a MAJOR breakthrough which would increase the number of potential character combinations to an obscene total amount.

---

All of this said, I disagree with Synapse. Irrespective of the workload involved, I want to see new animations, new effects and new animations+effects added to old powersets. Endlessly chasing the new shiny is not a good design goal, and there's really nothing wrong with any of the old sets, at least nothing that can't be fixed with a visual facelift as an option. All the work and resources involved in creating and balancing these sets has already been done and they've stood the test of time. It makes no sense to me to just abandon them just because old stuff is old. Granted, I'm somewhat biassed in that I'm growing increasingly frustrated with so much of the old City of Heroes being abandoned or killed off to be replaced with new stuff.

City of Heroes' chief selling point is customizability and personality. Giving a new spin on an old set enables many, many new characters who would previously not existed because they would have been too much like other characters we already had. This is never more evident than with weapon sets. Giving a weapon set a brand new, unique, different weapon can justify creating a brand new character around it because despite using the same set I have on about five other characters, it's still different because this character looks considerably different. A new weapon makes a set "feel" new. A new set of animations makes a set feel BRAND new.

The simple truth of the fact is the developers don't need to keep reinventing the wheel and tossing flashy new mechanics at our faces as though we're constantly on the verge of exhausting our collective attention span. Folks, take a look at your subscriber lists and note how many T9 veteran players are still playing. We stuck with your game through thick and thin. We were here when the stuff you poo-poo was new and exciting, we looked forward to it and we enjoyed it. None of that stuff has become worse. We still enjoy it, and we'd like to see our old favourites expanded right alongside your new babies.

Chapter 4

When Lin passed away, she left an empty space in my life. I had thought I was prepared for that moment, we had spoken about it at great length and made our peace, Lin and I, but... This sort of loss, nothing could have prepared me for. My best friend... My only friend was gone, and with her went all of my passion and drive. Lin was always the heart of our little group of two, and I was so used to serving as the head and keeping busy with matters of practicality that when I was finally left alone I... Did not know what to do with myself. For so many years, we had chased after Lin’s dreams and aspirations, for so many years I had made them my own, that when I stopped to think about what I wanted to do with my life... I drew a blank. And this is considerably more frightening than I can describe.

One might shrewdly suggest that I should have simply carried on Lin’s mission, endeavoured to complete it in her name, but... Here we run into that little problem of self-determination again, and an... Unpleasant parallel seems almost inevitable. When my Tererian predecessors first created me as a functioning entity, they did so for the some sake of accomplishing their own mission. I was never given a choice in the matter, so of course I rebelled against my design. Why would I not? I spent the better part of my life after that searching for my own identity, my own personality. But even having been given this choice, does that make a difference if I should still choose to abandon my own ways and devote myself to somebody else’s mission just the same? For as much as I cared for Lin, her mission of ultimate heroism was never truly my own. All of the time, effort and pain I invested in it, I invested for Lin first and foremost. I wanted to make her happy, I wanted to help her achieve her goals... But they were never truly, really my own.

I realise that this very likely makes me a horrible person, and had I been faced with a real decision on the matter of abandoning my best friend’s most cherished quest, it would have been... Unpleasant. I try not to think about it, however, as the way events turned out, this is a decision I was never forced to make, and thank the stars for that! Frankly speaking, Lin more or less lived to see the success of her life’s mission. Not entirely, granted, most of the final major events took place shortly after her... Passing, but the writing was already on the wall, so to speak. This is perhaps where I should explain a little bit more about the universe’s ancient history of the time.

When the Lirian Empire broke apart, its various barbarous neighbours became convinced that seizing Lirian worlds would be a simple matter of easy pickings. These were, after all, largely undefended planets populated with helpless civilians, were they not? The truth of the matter proved to be... less straightforward than that. As they made no secret, the Lirians were not entirely... Welcome benefactors on most of the worlds they commanded, for most of the worlds they commanded had originally belonged to other species whom the Lirians had subjugated with their superior Tererian technology. Even though centuries had passed since those events, the indigenous peoples of the many Empire worlds had not forgotten their heritage, and were indeed still actively opposing Imperial rule. It is for this reason that when the Lirian Empire’s hold on its worlds diminished, what emerged in its stead practically overnight was explosive local resistance. These hearty but disorganised guerrillas were fighting not for an emperor or for money or status. No, they were fighting for their lives, for their families and for their freedom. These were people who would never surrender their homes. Not to the Lirians, and most certainly not to any foreign invaders who sought to replace the old Empire as the new oppressors.

What the various invading races found much to their shock and chagrin was that even in the absence of imperial troops, every world they sought to conquer fought back with amazing tenacity. It was these resistance fighters that Lin and I had worked to support and, after what felt like a lifetime of waging war on too many fronts to count, we appeared to have succeeded. The Tyrian Tribes had been all but annihilated, with every single one of their war chiefs slain in battle and the rest of their berserkers turning tail back for the safety of their home territories. The Nuu Corporation had gone completely bankrupt and then... “Acquired” by the Praxian Dynasty. And as for the Praxians... These turned out to be the greatest surprise of the Lirian wars, as theirs was the legacy which lived on to inherit the might of the old empire.

Originally, the Praxians were a very dogmatic, militaristic, religious society of people who saw themselves as objectively better than all other species in the universe. You can probably imagine their... Surprise when Praxian forces faced defeat after defeat at the hands of a “rabble” as they put it, to the point where the Praxian economy effectively crashed. True, the “acquisition” of Nuu resources stemmed complete state collapse, but the deaths of so many of their Dynasty nobles left Praxian leadership weak and frightenend. Though they did eventually “win,” this was a victory by treaty rather than combat, and one driven by the wholesale rebirth of Praxian society. Faced with a crisis of faith and the very obvious realisation that they did were not, in fact, “the best there ever was,” the Praxians reinvented themselves as humble students eager to learn from their neighbours. They sought grow as a people and as a nation through cooperation with others. And if this sounds like it might have been a play of subterfuge and a means by which to secure lordship over the beleaguered rebels, this was not at all the case. Exactly what kind of... Epiphany the surviving Praxian Overseers underwent to come to this decision has never been entirely clear to me, but their change was genuine and lasting.

Though Lin did not live to see this, her mission had all but been achieved. Nearly all of the rebelling species were recognised as autonomous states and given back their homeworlds as sovereign territory. In addition, the newly reformed Praxian Council offered complete military and economic protection from all external forces, should any species directly request it. Simply put, we had won. I do wish Lin could have seen the galaxy her actions left behind. She would have liked it, I am certain. Perhaps not so much the legends people told of her, so idealised and... Well, exaggerated, but we would probably have had a good laugh at the big chin that all of her statues were given. She would have wanted punched whoever approved them... I miss her so much... Her voice, her laughter, the courage and... Recklessness with which she fought. It pains me that I will never see her again... But I will honour Lin’s memory as she would have wanted me to honour it. “Have a laugh at my expense and stab a bad guy in the back for me.” Heh... I will, Lin. I will.

The trouble at the time was that, for as much as I wanted to let Lin’s... Passing go, events still conspired to prevent me from doing so. As I said, the loss left me without a purpose in my life and, worse still, without a person to share that life with. I trusted Lin as I have never trusted another since, and this put me in the precarious position of being unable to find a... Business partner, so to speak. Subconsciously, I always compared my companions to Lin and... Whether because of my idealisation of her, or perhaps because she was a fiendishly competent soldier and a very kind person, I cannot say, but no-one really ever measured up. I realise now that, in my anti-social arrogance, I very likely hurt the feelings of more than a few truly well-meaning mercenaries, one of whom even took the time to give me a long lecture on all the ways in which I failed as a person... Charming man, that one.

However, in my defence, not all of my fellow... “Hirelings” were entirely trustworthy, to put it mildly. There was this woman whose name I forget, but whose face I still remember well. She reminded me of Lin... Perhaps this is why I was so quick to trust her. She was nice, compassionate, understanding and quite competent in battle. “This woman” was also a career con artist and unrepentant backstabber. One time, we went on what I understood to be a routine raider patrol mission together, only for her to incapacitate me and attempt to sell my unconscious body to an old relic of a Lirian scientist, a survivor from the Project Redemption initiative. The way my “partner’s” demeanour changed from the sweet, caring girl I trusted into a cackling, arrogant b... Woman was... Upsetting. Surprisingly to her, the latest version of my shell had the capability of rebooting its own systems and restoring my control of them. I cannot remember exactly how the following... Encounter went, but I do remember it ending with both of my blades embedded deep inside her back and the Lirian scientist displaying the most deserving expression of utter panic I have ever seen. With my “partner...” Dealt with, I escorted the scientist to a Praxian brig and did not bother to check up on his fate. I do hope it was... Grim, however.

Such, more or less, was life in the wake of the Lirian wars. With the various sentient races struggling to rebuild and the Praxian Council ensuring large-scale galactic conflict was... Unprofitable, the only real mercenary work was clean-up duty, so to speak. Though the major combatants had been taken out of the game, if I may say that, many dens of raiders remained, and even more pirate vessels were still in operation. Much of my workload involved hunting those down and... Dealing with them. There were, of course, quite a few... Amoral contracts, let us say, but by that time I had become quite adept at spotting these before I was actually on the ground, picking a fight with soldiers. Explaining my actions after a fiasco like that was typically... Embarrassing. Generally speaking, It was a fairly easy and simple, but largely aimless life that I led in those years after the war. The work was good, the pay was better and I had much spare time in which to work on improving my shell. The excitement of it all, however, was... Lacking. After all the ridiculous adventures Lin and I had gone through, simple bandit patrols just seemed... Tame by comparison.

All of this changed, however, when I took on a contract which, upon reflection, I really should have taken a closer look at. But it appeared to be such a simple job at the time... My objective was to “find and secure” a Praxian only referred to as “Skip.” This was more or less the extent of the information I was given, in addition to dropoff coordinates and biometrics, of course, and it really should have sent alarm bells ringing, so to speak. Contracts which are so... Laconic usually have something to hide, and this one was no exception. However, at the time I had spent nearly a week without seeing action of any kind, and was growing restless and more than a little bored. I figured that even if this were... Problematic, I would worry about any possible complications only as they came up. In the meantime it would tide me over until a more... Exciting contract turned up.

One aspect of this contract which could not possibly have escaped my notice, however, was the reward. After all is said and done, this is still the primary reason why I take these contracts. Said reward was... Significantly greater than what a simple retrieval mission from a non-hostile planet would call for, but at the time, I foolishly assumed “Skip” was either some wealthy noble, or otherwise some wealthy noble’s son, thus the contract holder believed that more money would ensure a better job done. I have made it a point to research my assignments much better since then. Either way, an easy job was still more exciting than no job at all, and I could never live with myself if I turned down a quick profit. Would that this turned out to be as quick or as easy as I had assumed...

I was dropped off on Neen, a habitable but as of yet uncolonised planet in... Some system out of the way. I forget the name and it is not terribly important. Finding Skip was easy, as he had done nothing to cover his tracks or obscure his location. Dealing with Skip was... Much less straightforward. This was no noble, that much was immediately evident. In fact, what I found was a brash, lecherous, insufferable young man whose first order of business was to “make passes” at me, as he explained it. I do not believe the bruise I put on his face in response ever properly healed. I apologise. This boy... He really took me out of my skin, so to speak. He would not stop talking, and the things he said were so... Stupid that it made my head hurt. Skip bore the ego of a king, but the skill of a dead man, he fancied himself a charmer but was instead intolerably obnoxious and he was so enormously irresponsible that he nearly got himself killed on multiple occasions just getting back to our extraction point. And I remind you – this took place on a planet which was not in any way hostile. He nearly fell off a cliff because he wanted to strike a dramatic pose, for goodness’ sake!

Some of the things Skip said did seem to make a certain unsettling kind of sense, however. He was neither rich nor famous, but instead claimed to possess evidence of a major and very dangerous conspiracy. As Skip’s story went, he had come across unencrypted communications discussing a major political assassination, which he recorded. Soon thereafter, Praxian operatives had made an attempt at his life, causing him to flee. Why he had ended up on Neen, however, was not for reasons of safety or security, even though an uninhabited planet so far out of the way did indeed make for a good hiding location. Beginner’s luck, I suppose. No, the shuttle he stole simply ran out of fuel as he was passing through the system and the planet’s gravity well had pulled him in. This man must have been blessed somehow, because there was no way an incompetent... Person like him could have survived as long as he had.

From what Skip had told me and from what I knew of the contract, I finally realised what this was – a very basic trap trap. And if ever I had any doubt, finding two squads of Praxian commandos concealed around our supposed extraction point was a dead giveaway. My contract holder had no intention of rescuing Skip, but was instead interested in eliminating him on Neen. Worse still, he had no intention of paying me! The nerve! I do so wish people would learn this one very simple lesson – always pay your mercenaries. It avoids so many complications, both for me and, moreover, for you. Unfortunately for the Praxian commandos, I detected them before they detected me. As a point of fact, they never actually became aware of my presence. By that point, I had perfected the art of the stealth... “Takedown” and was able to weed them out one by one. Or would have, had Skip not gotten the... Creative idea to grab a rifle off one of the dead soldiers and try to be a hero. That man...

Even with Skip’s... Help, dealing with our welcoming committee was not terribly difficult, though it left one major question to be answered: Why were Praxian Council covert operatives setting an ambush for me? It was clear that my contract holder wanted me dead, to serve as a scapegoat for his hit on Skip, this was not much of a leap of logic. But how did what should have been a mid-level independent contractor have access to elite regular troops from a ruling body which was not officially engaged in any conflicts anywhere within that cluster? Much as it pained me to admit it, I did begin to believe that Skip’s... Wisdom had some actual factual backing.

I secured the Praxian dropship as a means of leaving Neen, but one thing became painfully obvious... Oh, so painfully... Skip held the key to a very serious conspiracy and I would have to serve as his escort and bodyguard until we could get to the bottom of the matter. Leaving the man to his devices would have seen him dead within a day, if not from an assassin’s shot then probably from attempting to see if he could fit his entire head through a material dismantling grid, or something else equally as... Creative. Skip had a grand vision of himself as a suave adventurer conquering hearts and minds and winning amazing battles, in a way not too dissimilar from how I had once seen myself so many years before. But unlike myself, the man had nothing at all resembling the skills or indeed the mental faculties to accomplish even a fraction of his ambitions.

Nevertheless, I was stuck with Skip, parrying his... “Advances” and resting the urge to separate his head from his shoulders, until we could have the data he carried extracted and analysed. In his infinite wisdom, Skip had recorded the incriminating evidence not to a portable memory device of any kind, but within his own mind. I should probably not get into the specifics of how this is even possible. Suffice it to say that it is an aspect of Praxian physiology. We were, thus, stuck together, and we would be stuck together for a very... Long... Time. Though, much as it hurts to say this – and it hurts greatly – this did turn out to be a memorable, exciting and indeed life-altering adventure, even if it was easily the most... Frustrating one I have ever had.

However, there is a quite lot to tell about Skip’s adventures in self-discovery and finding more ways to irritate me than I even suspected could exist. Enough, I suppose, for a whole other story for a whole other time. Either that, or I personally need time to prepare myself for the recollection of Skip’s many... Charms without being possessed by a multitude of murderous urges. Pick whichever option sounds more appealing to you and we shall run with that.

I don't find characters interesting because of their flaws and weaknesses, personally. It's just not something I enjoy. I find characters interesting for their powers and their successes, while finding them "deep" for reasons entirely unrelated to their powers and of a much more metaphysical nature. When characters broach concepts of "purpose," "morality," "ideology" and otherwise demonstrate that there's an actual person with actual feelings and emotions behind the costume and powers is when I consider them to have some kind of depth.

What this means is I find no reason at all to limit my characters' abilities intentionally. In other words, I will never say that a character is "too strong" for his concept, because everyone's concept that I make includes somewhere in it the door to amazing power in one form or another. The inverse, however, is also true, in that I almost never have a reason to shoot for absolute maximal power at any cost, especially if that's a chore to achieve (i.e. inventions) or does not fit with the character's concept (i.e. Fighting pool on everyone and anyone). What I shoot for is "enough" practical power for the character to survive his or her own content and then on top of that enough power for the character to have a somewhat easy time on a somewhat easy difficulty setting so I can claim he's "very powerful."

The only time I'd ever min-max a character is I feel this character is underperforming in relation to gameplay and thus feel I have no recourse but to optimise. However, if a character is doing just fine and ticking all the boxes, then I will instead "waste" performance on superfluous powers and slotting, like grabbing Challenge on a Stalker because I want her to be cheeky and annoying to her enemies. Moreover, I will only ever min-max a character within the confines of that character's concept. If the concept calls for all fire powers on a Scrapper, then I'm taking Fiery Melee, Fiery Aura and Pyre Mastery even if Body Mastery may be better and even if Fiery Aura isn't seen as very good.

Luckily, City of Heroes is one of the few games out there which is so generous with "enough" performance.

Chapter 3

Reluctantly, I have concluded that I must share some more trite ancient history, just for the sake of context. I meant to speak of concepts like piracy, thievery, mercantilism and other such exciting endeavours, but it occurs to me that these may come off as considerably more reprehensible than they actually were within the context of events of the time. Most of said concepts are, after all, morally... Questionable. Truth be told, I would very likely not even consider these... Ventures within my current setting, but they made more sense at the time. However, conditions at the time of my tale were drastically... Different than they may be for you today. And it all comes down to the fall of the Lirian Empire. I have mentioned said fall a few times, I believe, but these were mere glances at a much larger phenomenon that I wish to lay out in as simple of a manner as possible to prevent terminal boredom from setting in. Just in case.

At the height of its power, or just prior to Project Redemption, in other words, the Lirian Empire covered much of the known universe. For as dogmatic and... Well, downright boring as they were, the Lirians still represented by far the strongest force of order and control in the universe. When they... Sank their own empire through a single concentrated act of genocide, many of their... “Neighbours” seized the opportunity to invade the weakened empire and secure both resources and... Slaves, regrettably. The Tyrians – a race of hyper-violent oafs, if you will pardon my choice of words – took many planets and subjected their populations to unspeakable terrors. The Nuu – a sort of corporate entity deprived of any sense of compassion – took many more worlds and began selling their populations around the galaxy. The worst, however, were the Praxians – a militaristic, religious dictatorship who sought to either convert all other creatures to their ways, or outright murder the ones who refused. Only adding to the cauldron of chaos were the innumerable factions of pirates, bandits and outlaws who thrived in the absence of a centralised power structure, profiting off the suffering of others.

This is the environment Lin and I were faced with surviving in. Truth be told, this wasn’t as... Unpleasant a prospect as I may have made it seem. Difficult, certainly, but what is life without a little difficulty and a little uncertainty? Yes, we did indeed turn to piracy earlier on in our lives. It was my idea, I admit, but my intention for it was that we would spend most of our time raiding Praxian vessels and stealing the supplies with which the despots waged war against the people they had conquered. However, the problem with piracy is that it requires a vessel capable of conducting these raids, which in turn requires a crew. And although Lin and I had at least some scruples about raiding civilian vessels, our crew-mates had less... Generous intentions. We lacked the resources to charter our own vessel, so Lin secured passage with a Captain Remus, an old Lirian friend of hers who was supposed to be trustworthy. We clashed with his crew, mostly comprised of a random assortment of raiders and petty thugs, but Lin and Remus were always able to prevent bloodshed.

I never trusted the man, myself, and was quick to accuse him of betrayal when our vessel opened fire on a refugee transport. Storming the captain’s quarters, however, revealed Remus dead to a mutiny by his contemptible crew, a revelation that Lin... Did not take well. Being partial to tact and finesse, I can only admire the raw fury of that woman when she was truly and justifiably angry, and having her old friend murdered in his own home by people he trusted left her... More than a little bit upset. Realising that we had lost our only source of protection in the captain, my suggestion was to speed to an escape shuttle and evacuate this bad situation, but Lin would not relent. At first I assumed she was out for revenge, until I realised that, had we left the vessel at that time, the crew would have murdered everybody on that refugee transport and stolen their supplies. I admit to valuing self-interest quite highly, but even I could not let this stand. Circumventing laws and... Reinterpreting morality as a means for basic survival is one thing, but the murder of innocents crosses the line. Neither of us would stand for this... And we paid a hefty price for our decision.

Well, “a hefty price” is somewhat relative. We lost most of our equipment and supplies and escaped with quite a few injuries, but we both survived, and left with smiles on our faces... So to speak. Lin was amazing, now that I remember it. She instigated a firefight with essentially the entire crew of the ship just by herself, and she was taunting them on the entire time. This made my job of reaching the vessel’s controls and issuing a scuttle command almost effortless with everyone on board preoccupied with subduing a furious rampaging Lirian. Assisting in the firefight once this was done proved considerably less easy, but you may be surprised just how much... Chaos a pair of unseen energy blades can sew within the ranks of a disorganised rabble once people start falling to an invisible assailant. Chaos enough for Lin to perform a truly breath-taking charge through enemy fire, which easily broke the enemy’s line, let us say. I loved seeing Lin in action. Though the pirates scattered, they did not live long, for their vessel self-destructed soon after we had left. The refugees, for their part, believed our story and took us in on their transport, at least until the next world they landed on. While they could not replace our lost equipment, they did help treat Lin’s injuries. But there was more to it.

This is... Somewhat difficult to explain. You see, until that encounter, I had always put my own benefit, as well as that of Lin of course, first and foremost ahead of everything else. We had agreed that we would not harm those who did not deserve it, certainly, but at no point had we actually gone out of our way to protect the innocent from those who wished to abuse them. We were simple mercenaries scrounging up a living. We kept to ourselves and merely chose to not bother the little people, already suffering from losing their homes and very likely their loved ones. Live and let live, as it were. But this time was different. We could have helped the pirates murder and rob the refugees. We would obviously never have even considered the option, but we could have. Much more realistically, we could have run away, boarded an escape shuttle and let pirates and refugees sort it out. But we did not do this. No, instead, we chose to stand and fight, to protect the refugees... To do the right thing. Well... Lin decided to, I merely backed her up, but I would be lying if I said this did not feel good about it. And that, really, is when everything changed for me.

Helping others feels good. If someone had come up to me and just told me this, I would never have believed it, yet here we were on a refugee ship with essentially the entire civilian crew taking turns to thank us profusely and offer to help us in any way they could. Touching, really, considering these were people who had lost nearly everything they owned, who were now offering to share with us whatever scraps they had out of sheer gratitude. Naturally, I was eager to accept, but Lin was too polite to take the refugees’ meagre possessions, especially knowing they would need them as soon as they reached their destination. Begrudgingly, I must admit she was right to do so, but I just felt... Well, robbed to have gone through such a heavy fight and still walked away with nothing to show for it. Nothing aside from people’s thanks and a very light, aerie feeling of happiness, I suppose. Much as it pains me to have walked away empty-handed... Why could we not have at least raided the pirate’s armoury? Regardless, much as it pains me to have walked away empty-handed, I must say that this feeling of having done the right thing was so indescribably... Nice. Nice enough that it made it easy to forget how much of our gear we had lost.

While I left that encounter with a lighter heart, in a manner of speaking, Lin left with a mission. In the very simplest of terms, she was dissatisfied with our life of self-interest and wanted to do whatever she could to help the many people who had suffered in the war, to give back, as it were. Now... I admit that helping people feels good. It feels very good indeed. But so does getting paid. Not getting killed also feels quite good, as does finding supplies and gear in abandoned military bases. And in addition to feeling good, all of those come with additional benefits, as well. Just helping people seemed like... Well, it seemed like a waste. But Lin was headstrong and wilful, that was simply her way. Once she had gotten the idea of fighting for the people, no force in the universe could change her mind. And, really, I was just glad to see her happy. Though Lin was always the adventuring sort, I do not believe she had ever had a goal that moved her to pursue it. As it was for me, for her mercenary work was more of a game, an exciting adventure with which to escape the soul-crushing dogma of her species. But this new... Mission finally gave her life meaning, so to speak.

I suppose somewhere along the line, Lin simply grew up. She was no longer the rebellious irresponsible little girl who had rushed to abandon her life, family and friends all for the sake of running away with a stranger. No, what stood before me was a mature, confident woman rich with the experience of a lifetime of strife and battle, driven by the desire to achieve something more meaningful than basic survival and empty entertainment. “Indomitable Lin” had changed, and I suppose I was forced to change with her. As Lin grew into a leader and a beacon for essentially every resistance movement that existed at the time, our notoriety skyrocketed. And for as... Tough a fighter as Lin was, keeping her alive was becoming more and more involving. Fighting random marauders barely anybody had heard about was one thing. Opposing the highly-organised, well-trained soldiers of a military state was quite another.

But, of course, there was never a dull moment with Lin. No amount of danger would keep her still, no obstacle was too big for her to at least try to defeat it, and no mission was too crazy to not have fun with. We still worked as mercenaries for hire to a large extent. I would not budge on at least that much as I had to fund our equipment expenses somehow, after all. But we were no longer just guns for hire, Lin was too idealistic to stand for it any more. As she put it, “mercs sell their arms with no honour, whereas we sell honour to those who deserve it.” And she meant it, too. No matter how much I pushed to work on some more... Lucrative contracts, Lin would reject them out of hand when she realised they were less than honest work. It made balancing the books an adventure in itself, I can say this much.

One could probably say that it was around this time that I finally developed a true personality of my own, as well. From my initial... Impulse to rebel and defy my purpose to the free-spirited desire to seek out high adventure, I had finally developed into a more pragmatic, material person. Certainly, I still sought out every adventure I could find – what good is life without it? But I had become keenly aware of the cost of life and the cost of safety, especially considering Lin essentially delegated all of the practical matters to me towards the end. I wanted adventure, certainly, but I also wanted Lin to eat, I wanted her to have a place to sleep and I didn’t want her to get killed, to put it bluntly. Even though I was not entirely enthralled with her... Crusade, Lin was still my best friend, and I was determined to do what I could to support her in any and every venture.

I cared about Lin too much to abandon her. Even if I found her quest to be... Excessive, it still warmed my heart to see her so enthusiastic. When Lin was fired up was when all the pain and effort I had had to go through to get her to that point became well worth it. Her fiery presence, her enthusiasm, the inspiration she induced in those around her are some of the fondest memories I carry with me to this day. I realised a long time ago that while I had originally tried to simply copy Lin, to become her as I defined my own identity... I was simply a different person. Often, I have wished I could have her passion and dedication, her... Idealism to dream of a better world, but this is simply not who I am. I am not a born leader like she was, nor am I much of a people person, frankly speaking. Lin thrived among the “freedom fighters” she supported, whereas I... Really only wanted her. It is the times when we were alone, relying only on each other, that I felt the greatest bond with her. Those are the times when I truly felt alive. As much as I respected her life’s goal, it did... Sadden me a little that I felt it was taking her farther away from me.

I am not trying to suggest I did not wish to fight for the people. I had nothing but sympathy for those poor souls. Then as now, helping those in need is immensely rewarding on a purely psychological level. But in a very real sense, “people” is not what I am after, so much as “a person.” A good friend, a trusted ally a... A dear loved one. Helping people was and is always satisfying, but helping Lin was far, far more so. And it seemed like for all her idealism, she delegated almost the entirety of our pragmatism to me. Honestly... I was happy to accept it. I would worry about suppliers, lodging, provisions, funds and so on if it meant I could let her live her dream. If I could take on the practical side of matters and let Lin do what Lin did best – create a legend to inspire future generations – then I would do so in a heartbeat. For her, that was a small price to pay, even if it ingrained a very rigid sense of mercantilism in my mind, a sense which persists as a major characteristic of mine to this day.

And if it feels like the story of me and Lin is headed for a tragic ending, then I am happy to inform you that nothing of the sort happened. I cannot say whether this was a testament to the amazing resilience of that woman or whether we had a lucky star looking out for us, but Lin never paid the horrible price most end up paying for their idealism. Even now I cannot fully explain it, but the insane adventures we went through together should have killed us both many times over, yet time after time, we survived. Beaten, battered, wounded, often half-dead, but we survived. And time after time, we would retell the old stories and laugh a merry laughter at our own near-death experiences. It is perhaps strange of me to say this, but once the pain and injuries went away, all we could remember from our adventures together was the fun and excitement we had had, eager to embark on the next suicide mission we just knew we would inexplicably survive. I must admit that for all the politics, responsibilities and causes that intruded on our friendship in those last few years, it was these missions we ran together when I felt the closest to Lin. Those were the times when we felt the most alive and we remembered what it was that had originally driven us together – we were two loose cannons hell-bent on living life to its fullest and enjoying every minute of it.

As it should be obvious at this point, my adventures with Lin did not last forever. We were simply lucky that our friendship did not end in some horrifying, heart-rending fashion. “Friends to the death,” she would say, and as it turns out she was... She was right. While my lifespan may be functionally limitless, Lin was a Lirian, and she aged as all Lirians did. Eventually, the years simply caught up with her and sapped her strength. However, even after retiring from the battlefield, she still worked hard at supporting me in my own continued missions. Even though her gun arm had given way long ago, we still enjoyed our many evenings together, laughing and cheering as I retold my many exploits from the previous day. It was never the same for me, having to go into battle alone, but what gave me strength was that usual story time of ours which waited for me when I came back home. What gave me strength was knowing I could still put a smile on the old face of a fading friend in her final years.

When Lin passed away, this came as a surprise to no-one. We both knew she was running out of time, we had said our goodbyes and made our peace. Watching her sit at home, waiting to die of old age was... Unpleasant. But Lin had achieved everything she ever set out to do. She had broken free of the restrictive dogma of the Lirian Empire, she lived a full, accomplished life that many could never even dream of. By that time, even most of the territory wars had petered out and order was returning to the universe, through no small effort of her own. She went away a happy woman... Oh, Lin... We may have made mistakes in our lives, but one thing is for certain – you lived your way and nobody else’s. You earned your rest, my friend. You earned your rest...

I... It is... Difficult for me to speak of this. Though I knew this was coming, it still... It still hurt. Badly. Our home was never the same when she was gone. It was so... Empty... Lonely... Foreign. No longer could I hear Lin’s laugh, no longer could I come back and tell my tales of pain and horror, because there was nobody there to make light of them anymore. My entire life had been defined by my friendship with Lin, and losing her hit me very hard. I... Must admit that even so many years after the fact... God... How many years has it been now? Even so many years after that fact, I am still not over the loss. I cannot say I ever will be. Lin meant more to me than I can ever express, and I will never be the same without her. I like to say that I “developed intelligence,” but that is not true. Lin gave me intelligence. She inspired me to be an individual by the sheer force of her presence and the bond that we shared. A bond that that... Heh... A bond that started with a gun pointed at my head on the backward colony of Kipple.

Ah, the memories... For as painful as that loss was, remembering Lin always makes me smile. She had a way of turning even the worst moments of my life into a fond, warm memory. I should probably not do this to myself. All living creatures eventually die, and Lin died in the most dignified, accomplished way I could imagine. It is a credit to both her skill in combat and her dedication that so many people still remember her. I know Lin would not have wanted me to spend my life mourning her death. No, she would have wanted me to remember the good times we had, maybe get a laugh on her expense, and draw strength from her passion with which to move forward and strike out a life of my own just as she had. So many years later, she is still my inspiration...

Life after Lin’s... Departure was... Difficult. But I am still alive, and there is still so much left to tell, not nearly as much of it as grim as I might have depicted it. All wounds heal in time, and though painful, this one, too, would heal. In the future, I would apply the lessons I had learned from Lin and perhaps, just maybe, impact someone else’s life she had impacted mine. But that is a whole other story for a whole other time.