I was born to very wealth parents and grew up thoroughly spoiled. Attending all the finest schools and hobnobbing with the rich and relatively famous I took quite a liking to the finer things in life. Unfortunately, I was also quite a spoiled brat. As soon as I was old enough to be sent off to a fine institute of learning I was gone. They just wanted to get me out of their hair.
I learned much academic type stuff while there, in addition to the darker side of wealth. Becoming disgusted with the ways of both the powerful and the ignorant, I joined the class of rich young people who were both idealistic enough and rich enough to reject the attitudes of the dilettante "haves," but not quite noble enough to reject their wealth and join the "have nots." Think idealistic knows-it-all college girl. I was in to poetry, history, philosophy, and music.
When my parents were killed my only reason to remain in school (parental approval is a bitch) died with them. I rapidly dropped out and joined the more radical members of my circle of suburban radicals' "gang." I use the term lightly. For a few months we putted around getting almost decent at shooting and generally acting tough. Six months after I joined we tried to sabotage a particularly heinous corporation, in our idealistic opinion. Naturally we got decimated.
Of the seven of us, just me and one other survived. We did get out with more money than we had ever seen in one place before in our life. We took two things with us besides the money. The realizations that we enjoyed the rush of "running" and that we clearly did NOT have what it took to ply this exciting trade of ours. After watching several action flicks we concluded that we needed to upgrade.
Shawn liked the "Terminator" type films and decided to take his money and go cyber. I preferred the "Mission Impossible" and saw cyberware as a desecration of my prized humanity. I heavily invested in Bioware. We both understood that upgraded bodies alone would not be enough. We also needed some cool weapons. I took up the monofilament whip while he learned kung fu. By the time we launched our next doomed raid on a corporation, we had vastly increased our survivability. We only lost half of our newly grown group.
Completely disheartened by this new massacre I took to studying everything related to small group operations and survival. I also made a point of learning subtler means of accomplishing my ends. The crowning achievement of my research was my personal acceptance of a runner's use for a Mr. Johnson. This realization came together with my dwindling funds to convince me that I could still fight the power of the corporations, while getting paid. So call me a hypocrite, but not if you're smart.
My extensive research, studies, and minor experience combined with my enhanced body, which I keep as confidential as possible, have allowed me to become a decent infiltrator and effective cell commander. I am currently honing my skills and trying to deliver as many blows to the corporations' power while always accomplishing my mission. This trend, which has not gone unnoticed, has kept my role in most groups as purely advisory. I guess they want to keep my anti-corporation attitude from having a large effect upon the results of our run.
