Nero
Player: Josh Drury
Background: Dry cracked lips and broken teeth grip the smoldering remains of a cigar that smoke covers a scarred and battered face, just like the land it was borne in.
"Colonel?" a hesitant voice carries from a young man, dressed in a soldiers’ uniform with the rank of Private on the collar. The young private stares at the Colonel’s back, looking over the larger man in front of him.
"Spit it out boy." The Colonel remarks while turning to look at the this new arrival. The Private tries not to winch at the blooded eye and fire scarred face of the Colonel.
"Your wife, sir…..she.."
"Yes, I know. A tragic loss, but really I don’t care."
Stunned the Private tries to compose himself and continue with out risking the Colonel’s anger, "But sir…..your son."
"My son?" the asks, as eyes widen and the cigar falls from it’s rocky perch, to get crush under iron shod boots, as the Colonel runs down the hospital’s corridors to the room his son is being borne.
The room’s doors burst open as the Colonel marches in right up to the doctor who is laying a shroud over the mother’s face.
"What is the meaning of this Doctor?" the Colonel asks, with spittle flying from his lips.
Trying not to winch back, "You son, has had some complications sir." He responds, "We are."
"Damn you! You told me there would be no error!"
"Yes sir, I understand. The genetic application you required, to make sure you child was a boy, has caused some major problems."
"What?!?"
"As we explained, such a procedure is not perfect, nor even safe. You have a son, but one that has a severely deformed body. He does not even have lungs, so we have him on life support right now, but…….."
"Blast you to hell!" the Colonel screams, then storms out the room yelling, "Fix em."
Six years later.
"Colonel welcome home." Captain Dolin remarks while leading the Colonel to his office.
"Thank you, Dolin. It’s been too long."
"Six years sir."
"Yes……is that child around?"
"Umm no sir, he is school currently, but should be home soon."
The Colonel makes a rude noise and pours a glass of brandy, just as the main door opens. Cold air sweeps through the hall and snow starts it’s struggle to reach the warm interior.
"Blast you! Shut that door!" the Colonel yells, getting angered at the delay.
"I’ll handle it sir." Dolin says while walking to the door. "He has some trouble with doors."
The Colonel stops and ponders what Dolin had meant, but realizes when he sees a small figure slowly walking down the hall past his office. Little faint electro noise follow the figure and long separate thumps, from where the figures heavy feet land on the hard wood floor.
Dolin enters the room, while giving the maid some instructions and turns back to the Colonel.
"Was that?" the Colonel asks with a horrified look on his face.
"Yes sir, he required life support and the rest of his body was useless. So they just reconstructed his body and only recently has he been able to move. The systems of course not the best, as he needs new updates every 3 or months to match his growth. But he is learning, though he still has a time with doors."
"Great Stalin…..why didn’t they just let him die?"
"Well sir, you did tell them to fix him."
"Leave me Dolin."
"Yes, sir."
Later on that night:
"Is that my papa, Uncle Dolin?" a little voice carries from a small speaker built into a deformed face.
Dolin looks down at the boy and into a set of black mechanical eyes, that keep adjusting as Dolin lays out the boy’s books. "Yes Dmitrii" he answers.
"Is Papa going to stay?"
"Yes." Dolin answers as a pain twists in side him, from listening to the quite voice.
"I am happy." Dmitrii says, beginning to work on his homework, as Dolin steps from the room. "Dolin?"
"Yes Dmitrii?"
"Why do I not have any brothers or sisters? All the other kids at school at have least one."
"Ah…..well you see…your father was wounded just after you were borne."
"Ok." Dmitrii replies and goes back to his homework.
Dolin walks down stairs and talks with the maids to make sure everything is ready for supper that evening, and that arrangements have been taken care of for the Colonel. Nodding his thanks to the maids, Dolin walks into the office as the Colonel is going over some field reports.
"Dolin."
"Yes sir?"
"Why the hell was I cursed! Have you seen that child! I should have a strong boy running around outside right now, having snowball fights or rough housing. Not sitting in a room making whirly and clicky noises."
"Yes sir."
"I tell you…it is almost to much to bear sometimes. I need a son to carry on the Vardoslav’ name, not bury it. We have served warlords since my Grandfather and I won’t see this tradition crumble around my feet! I deserve a soldier for a son!"
"Yes sir, of course."
Five years later:
The Colonel climbs out of bed, pulling a robe from the foot of his bed, he walks over to the window. Pulling the robe over his body, to keep the chill out, he looks at the night sky and sighs. "Blast my life." He thinks and leaves his room, walking through the house.
Reaching the study, the Colonel can hear a faint motor noise from with in. "Damn that child." He thinks while walking by, then stops and goes back. Throwing the door open, he asserts "What are you doing!"
Dmitrii stands in front of a large tapestry, hanging on the wall, and points at the battle portrayed on it. "I want to be like them Papa."
"What? What are you saying?" the Colonel answers walking over to Dmitrii, "Damn this child." He thinks.
"Them Papa, I want to be like them." Dmitrii answers, as a small red dot, from his laser pointer, settles on one of the painted knights fighting some demon hordes. "I want to help, Papa. I want to be like you."
The Colonel looks down at this small disfigured child and his heart crushes inside. Two colorless lens look back at him and he tries to judge the value this child, no "My son." He thinks, "Hell what have I done."
Giving Dmitrii a hard look he says, "You will be son, you will be."
A few years later:
"Major Kirtz, sir?"
"Yes?"
"Its Colonel Vardoslav’ on line 1 for you."
"Ah.. good, thank you." The Major says, while picking the phone up, " Makhon how goes it?"
"Good, Good Boris. I need you to do something for me."
"Haha, sure Makhon what ever you need."
"I want my son placed into the shocktrooper program."
Silence hangs over the phone line, before the Colonel is force to add, "I am serious here Boris. I am want him enrolled right away, with these next batch of recruits."
"Makhon, please I understand your situation, but your son might not even survive the operation."
"So what? Just do it Boris, please don’t make this an order."
"Sure thing Makhon, just if he does not pass the training program, you know he will be scrapped so another can use the shocktroopers body."
"I know Boris, thank you for your candor."
3 years later.
Colonel Vardoslav’ looked at the line of giant cyborgs designated Aftermaths and pondered which one was his son. They had given each shocktrooper a new name, so to protect the families, but the Colonel had the record sheet to see which was his son.
"He almost didn’t make it Makhon." A voice came from behind.
"I see. But he did make it Boris." The Colonel answered and embraced the Major.
"Just under a second, he hesitates to much, but I am sure some combat will fix that."
"True, Dmitrii…"
"Nero."
"What?
"He is no longer Dmitrii Makhon, you must call him Nero. That is the name he was given."
The Colonel stood shocked and looked at the roster sheet. "Nero was my grandfathers name." he said.
"I know Makhon."
"You sly dog."
"Hehe, I try. Now go say something to him, I want to send him out with a small group of raiders, so he can cut his teeth on something easy before getting put against another warlords forces. You know this Orloff, he never allows time for peace."
"True, to true. I hope this new era of his does not turn out to be another blood bath. We don’t need another."
"I agree, well go speak with him."
"Alright, alright." The Colonel says and walks over to the hanger given to the cyborg named Nero. Walking up to the giant borg, the Colonel looks over the white and grey camo painted on the body. "You know me?" he asks the borg.
"Yes Papa." It replies in a metallic voice.
A grin spreads across the Colonel’s face, "Well son, today is your day. Your getting sent out on assignment."
"I hope I do well Papa."
"Ah…. Don’t worry. Your just used to inaction as your means of fighting, those others have been battles long before you. You’ll get the hang of it."
"Yes Papa."
"Now get out of here and make me proud."
A few days later:
Thermal images painted the landscape Nero looked over, 14 bodies, 7 men, 3 children and 4 women. His sensors showed no hostile weapons and the building were only a wooden farm home and barn.
"Nero!" a voice yelled from a bike down by his feet.
"Yes sir?"
"What do you see."
"Nothing here sir, just a small farm. No weapons or soldiers."
"Ahh perfect." Responded the reaver lieutenant. "Lets roll out!"
Nero stood silent and watched in horror as the reavers rolled past his legs, whooping and halloring. They opened fire on the family and started blasting apart the farm in no time. "No…" he thought and realized what was going on. Looking around he pondered what he should do. Hearing the family scream, Nero could not stand by any longer.
The revear Lieutenant had corned one of the farm girls, when his bike exploded behind him. "What the!!" he yelled and saw particle blasts erupt from the forest destroying many of his soldiers and their vehicles.
"Nero! What is going on out there? Who is firing on us." The Lt called into his radio.
"Leave sir, leave now or die." Nero’s voice came back over the radio.
"You peace of rotten shit!" the Lt screamed and ran for cover. "Move it men, go go. Orloff will have your head jack wad!"
As Nero watched the reavers leave, he tried to approach the farm. But when he stepped out into the light, the people just screamed and ran for cover. Sighing, Nero walked back into the forest, pondering what he should do. Knowing he cannot stay here, Nero begins to wander off, wondering if his dreams of being a Knight are possible.
NOTE: Nero is killed saving Raven, Kila, Stefan, Chris, Shade, Errol and Nicodemus from a horde of demons from the underworld.