Council Interrogation Record #100532SED41455d - Striga - Command Station Epsilon-Delta-Four - 12th March 2005
Interrogating Officers: Vertex Elite Archon Stanley der Trihs, Vertex Elite Adjuctant Daniel Jaeger
Timestamp: 15:45
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*hsssssssssssss-click*
Hmm?
Ah, right. Standard interrogation stuff then. Name: Foxtrot Romeo, Rank: Twenty-Fiver, Serial Number: 0-8F.
No, really, look, I have the barcode tattoo and everything. See?
Well I really don't see why it should suprise you, we get a lot of kids from the whole bioweapon development thing. Designed, bred and genetically altered by Crey, if you must know.
Tsk. Really, they need to work on prividing better intelligence to you chaps, of course they do that kind of thing, haven't you ever heard of the Revenant Hero- no? Really now... They provide you with poor information, but who is it that they expect to stand between them and the bullets? Right.
No, really, I assure you this is not an attempt at sowing dissent in the ranks Archon, I'm just naturally a very sympathetic person. I'm handcuffed to a chair in an interrogation room, I fail to see how it could be even remotely useful at this point anyway.
Well that's neither here nor there, although I must say I wouldn't mind a drink afterwards with that charming young adjuctant who made such a spirited attempt at caving my skull in. An interesting one, she is. You know, I do believe she's been immune to your pliancy ensuring drugs for several months now? Isn't spontaneous mutation in your little supersoldier proteges a marvelous thing... No? What do you make those boots out of anyway? There may very well be bruising, and I rarely bruise.
Oh yes, I quite agree, we are rather going off on a tangent, aren't we? Well basically, I'm here on orders to kill you. Nothing personal you understand. Business is business.
Really, you needn't be so scornful. The fact that your men (and your charming young adjuctant friend) caught me, stripped me of my firearms and tied me up doesn't mean I am in any way an inferior assassin.
Well, I would contest that. You see, I was pretty much designed from the ground up to be the ultimate in intelligence gathering and assassination. I'm a failed project, of course, but the groundwork is all sound. Quite frankly, if all I need to do to appear comparatively normal is get declawed every six weeks and wear extremely dark shades, I consider myself lucky. You should have seen some of the others.
Yes. Well. Look me in the eyes and say that.
That would be about what I thought. Anyway, to address the main thrust of you argument, as it were, there are a number of facts I would like to call to your attention: One, you failed to properly evaluate my abilities after capturing me, were this a suicide mission I would not be here. As it so happens, I am extremely difficult to kill, Crey security forces spent years chasing me all over Europe. Why, the closest they ever got was on one occasion in Munich when I almost lost an arm, thankfully there was- Ah, right. My apologies, I do tend to dwell upon that stage of my life. Anyway, I am extremely difficult to damage in any permanant fashion, so I was not at all worried by mere bullets and blunt trauma. Two, it's considerably easier to kill someone if you know his exact location at a given point in time. In your case here, now.
Goodness, there's no need to point that thing at me, I am still securely handcuffed, as I'm sure you can see. I am not threatening. It's not something I generally do, on principle. I am merely stating facts.
In any case, yes. One: You were unlikely to kill me before I was actually captured. Two: Once I was captured it was fairly certain that you would wish to interrogate me yourself. You know of Foxtrot at least, and I made certain I was sufficiently interesting. Moving on to point three: You sent the only other person in the room away several minutes ago, presumably to take a message to one of you medical chaps regarding dosages for certain adjuctants and why they should be increased, further inceasing the ease with which I could theoretically kill you. I wonder why he hasn't come back yet, by the way.
Twitchy, aren't we? Really, as I said, I am merely presenting facts. Assuming I'm not going to be interupted any further, this moves us on to facts four through seven, which I would like to present more or less simultaneously: I haven't been wearing handcuffs for almost thirty seconds now, my mind has been honed into a weapon of astonishing power over the last ten to fifteen years, there is an intense but suprisingly stealthy arabic youth with sixteen inch claws implanted into his forearms standing behind you, and you are going to stand still.
...
Tsk. Really, did you need to splatter him quite that much? He wasn't even a Cor Leonis. These were new shoes, you know.
Pfaugh! Consider your hand gestures returned a thousandfold! Anyway, you may as well head off on you own, I think I shall drop by the barracks on the way out and make enquires as to whether the young lady would be interested in dinner and a movie at some later date, present circumstances rather precluding such things.
Ah, almost forgot. Leave the place as you found it and all that. Oscar, get that recorder will you, there's a good cha-*click*
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