John Steel

Sitting on a lumpy, bug-ridden, stinking sofa, he was playing around with his altered handgun and adjusting his cowboy hat.

"God damn it, if I like this gun" saying this, he placed his handgun in its holster which ws strapped to his right leg. As his usual, he took out from his pocket a packet of cigarettes and started smoking, always concentrating on a particular object. This object was in fact a person sitting in front of him.

"What can I say? I wasn't always like this, I lived two other lives before this one!" and began to laugh. He was a tall man (when standing), some 6 feet, with broad shoulders, and a well-built physique. His eyes, always looking for trouble, where dark green, and his short hair as dark as the night. One eye was particialrly strange, due to a thin red border on its pupil. The other person, without giving signs of disregarding, looked down to take a look at the cowboy's crocodile boots which showed some good sign of heavy usage.

"Look at this…this baby is pure hi-tech cyberware, one kind of a mudda fucker." Readily he pulled his flak pants showing his right cyber leg, all polished up and ready for some kicking.
"I've got this from my second life. Well, I'll better tell you my name…God damn it if it's better. Simple name but adequate, I'm John Steel, Steel for you." Putting back his trousers, Steel, lighted another cigarette with the previous one.

"Want one…No answer, means no, eh? What'da I like silent people, kinda I like to talk…Ha ha ha! Ok, let's get back to business, I'm happy to see that you're ready to here my story, it's been a long time someone heard my biography, and damn me if it's not fuckin' something!" The silent man was as silent as ever, now sweating worst then before.

"People think I'm a psycho, but man, that's no good, I just do my job and that's it. Whatever, let's start…hmm…let's see…yeah, I was raised in a very disciplinary family, my father being a sergeant major of the US marine corps. Unfortunately, I do not remember much of him nor anything but flashes from my childhood…all these damn operations makes strong and everything but fucker if they fuck your brains!" while saying this Steel starting scratching his head and stopped to rearrange his hat.

"Anyway, I recall, me playing with this man, I called father, and always wanting to be a damn soldier, and man that's what I bluddy became…yeah a damn marine. Fuckin hard, it was all the training and stuff. Again it's all too hazy and damn gray in my mind, what's left of it…hmm…yep, back to it. In the marines, I've studied some cool stuff, and became quite a good soldier. Once, we were sent on a mission to terminate a group of terrorists, which at that time where sabotaging known US navy construction yards. Accidentally I found myself in the middle of a bluddy grenade, which tore my body to pieces and left me there unconscious. That was my last mission there." He stopped after this, again lighting another fag, and toying his big bad rifle.

After a pause he continued "Where was I…yeah…after that I was taken to a special hospital, owned by a certain corporation, and was reshuffled there. Basically, they gave me my second life. I became, what I am today…a fuckin robo-man…OK, OK, sometimes it helps…actually it helped a lot."

Suddenly, John, started to shake his head violently and shouting "Stop…fucking stop…" and continued to shake until he stood up and hit another chair with his head. "That's it baby, best way of keeping that damn headache in its place." The silent man, was sweating like hell, and his trembling could be heard from the other side of Night City.

"So know…yeah, I was enrolled into this special division of this damn corporation into a group called cybersoldiers, whose elements where all cybered up, like me. Bloody hell, you could see all kinda gadgets and accessories…damn state of the art too! We did not know the particulars of the corporation, they just sent for us when need arises. They put some stuff in my head, and messed it up, memories almost all lost, those fuckers. Well, I was known as Cowboy, there was Tiny Tim, Missile and Doc. We always worked together for 2 damn years…yeah man, 2 years. Another name I recall but face missing, is one known as Ursa Major, actually called Major Ursane, he gave orders. Damn face, I cannot make it up."

"After these 2 years of kicking ass, we were assigned to enter an establishment where some gangers kept stolen cyberware stuff. It was supposed to be a get-in-kickass-get-out mission. But nope…and I say fuckin nope. The fuckers where armed like fuckin crazy, with damn laser stuff and cyborgs, it was a mess. I was hit several times, but thanks to my tough skin, I managed to escape."

"The others…well, I don't know…so anyway, I luckily knew this place, since I have or had an uncle living in the region, and found my way through sewers, into an empty building. Damn me if I thought it was empty!"
"My lucky star again…and that's life number 3. I found myself on a bloody bed, with all sort of equipment around me and an old pal called Einstein2. He repaired me up and became my tutor on cyberware. He died after 4 years. Not of age, he fried himself whilst trying to transfer his conscious into a damn network of a corporation. He kept all this for himself and now sure nobody will know about all this."

"So cybersoldiers, think I'm dead (or so I hope!) and the marines think I'm spare parts, but I'm still kicking damn ass."
After finishing his biography, John Steel, picked up his rifle and pointed it at the silent man. "Almost forgot, I'm here to take you out…bye bye…"

The man who was strapped to the chair was now very dead and strapped to the chair. Still silent he was, this time not because of that big red ball he had inside his mouth.

"That was good, I needed to talk to somebody. Thanks man. See ya!"

NC' 99