Solo
You were reborn with a gun in your hand—the flesh and blood hand—not
the metallic weapons factory that covers most of your other arm. Whether
as a freelance guard and killer-for-hire, or as one of the Corporate
cybersoldiers who enforce business deals and the Company's "black
operations," you're one of the elite fighting machines of the Time of
the Red. Most Solos put in military time during the 4th Corporate
War, in a Corporate army, or in one of the government's current
"police actions" around the country. As the battle damage piles
up, you start to rely more and more upon tech: cyberlimbs for
weapons and armor, bio-program chips to increase your reflexes
and awareness, combat drugs to give you that edge over your
opponents. When you're the best of the best, you might even
leave the ranks of Corporate samurai and go ronin—freelancing
your lethal talents as a killer, bodyguard, or enforcer to
whoever can pay your very high fees. Sounds good? There's a
price—a heavy one. You've lost so much of your original meat
body that you're almost a machine. Your killing reflexes are
so jacked up that you have to restrain yourself from going
berserk at any moment. Years of combat drugs taken to
keep the edge have given you terrifying addictions. There
are few people you can trust anymore. One night you might
sleep in a penthouse condo in the City, the next in a filthy
alley on The Street. But that's the price of being the best. And
you're willing to pay it. Because you're a Solo.
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