Unit#: 578a "Jati de Jasha"
Core Data: Female, 24 years old, 162cm, 120lbs. Black hair, red mark over left eye, hazel eyes. Tracker behind left ear.
Employment: Pasha United Human Resources
Strengths and Weaknesses Main assets speed and manual dexterity. Strong in hand-to-hand with knuckledusters. Only adequate with knives and poor omniblaster marksmanship.
Other:Frequent need for re-education. Liability? Evaluate at end of quarter.
- Re-education a success. Major target eliminated (see section 2b for project details).
- Unit #578a "Jati de Jasha" shows signs of flexor tendon laceration in left hand in preliminary med exam and severe emotional distress. Re-education and usefulness assessment strongly recommended.
-Unit #578a "Jati de Jasha" now MIA. Wanted dead or alive.
One pill. One time. Everything changed.
They kept me drugged. They kept me stupid. I had no idea how twisted it was. It was life, nothing more or less. I wasn't a person. My feelings were encouraged when I was effectively completing missions, but anything else was not tolerated. So they drugged me. Over and over again they drugged me. I thought I was sane, I thought I was alright. I thought the entire situation was normal. Heh. How fucked up is that?
It took four days after taking the antidote to see any change. Everything changed. I could see like I'd never done before. The fog started to lift. When I look back I recognize the gaping holes in my memory and I worry. Still, noticing the lack is new and I fiercely embrace the knowledge. I am seeing the days, the months, the years that I have lost in the fog of madness they induced.
I lost myself. Every day that the "medicine" wore me down I lost a little scrap of my soul. What remains is threadbare and held together by will and fury. They stole from me in a deeper way than anyone else. They hurt me....Now it's time to hurt them back.
I will be free of them. I refuse to be what they made me into. I will not make the same mistakes again. In time I may forgive, however unlikely, but I will never forget what they cost me. My sanity. Myself. What remains of my heart is bitter as a widow's tears and I will not rest until I have my revenge.