How I've come to be involved with this logic defying, "box of chocolates" assortment is a tale worth telling, or at least worth knowing. Then again, every tale is worth knowing because every story is bounding with new perspective, opinion, and information. Prior to informing you of past events, I should inform you of my present self. I'm a human and that is fine with me. I couldn't care less as to being a meta-human or not. It's not as if an elf's pointy ears would let me hear better. Besides, I have my cyber mods to handle that. I am precisely 1.8529 meters tall. Even though I change my hair color at every new moon, my natural color is a smoldering red. I maintain my body weight at 68.04 kilograms for maximized agility and performance. I was born in 2046. The earliest memories that I can recall are of scavenging in the Mid-Western UCAS sprawl, in order, to survive. At the time, I was the age of approximately 5 years. I soon became one of the local gang-ers, but that didn't last long. My sharp tongue, and lack of size to match it, sooner or later angered all of the gang leaders in the area. I don't care if I was five or fifty, I was still smarter than those cheaply cybered baboons. I didn't have the time to waste on those sim-adds, so I left, in order, to find a better place to live, and possibly a better group with which to associate. What was I thinking? Boston had the same sim-ed up cyberjunkies as the Mid-West. Nevertheless, I had learned to get by on my own during the three year lapse on my journey to Boston. My physical maturity had begun to improve substantially, as well. Thus, dealing with the sprawling SINless that hindered my way of life was a much simpler matter. In 2058, my regular Johnson was pleased with my performance began offering some higher level (and higher paying) jobs, but they required that I work with a mini-shadowrunning squad he had compiled. I agreed. I didn't give a damn about working with other people, just as long as they were competent, and didn't get me killed. That was a huge error in my thinking. The first run that I went on separated one of my ears from my head and witnessed my corneas being damaged by an obscenely powerful flash bang. After the run was finished, the other two squad members accidentally mistook a couple of hand grenades for fruits. On the next mission, I had a team that paid slightly more attention to what I had to say. The last team the I was part of was a trio. An illusionist, a rigger, and myself. We spent about a year running, and where relatively successful. That was the longest period of time that I had spent with any one team of people. Now Koori was cold and professional, but never failed to meet her responsibilities. The illusionist was also competent. Not competent enough, however, to realize that I'm extremely sensitive to information. Especially, when someone attempts to keep me from it. During a run into one of the megacorps I dropped some smoke grenades to provide escape cover. She was a very good illusionist, because I never saw her come out of the smoke screen and I made sure to drop any hostiles that might have been coming through the smoke after her. Oh well. That's life. I continued to work with Koori for another 2 years after the trio became a duo. I can't say that I like her, but I do respect her. One of the clients that I freelanced myself out to was A'leia. It was only a couple of courier runs and datasteals, but it seemed like her outfit was involved in quite a debacle. Of course, my curiousity got the better of me, and I wound up trying to breach their security and I was caught. For the first time in my life I was caught. Fortunately, they were in impressed by either my skills, my experience, or the sheer fact that I had the blocs to try and hack them to begin with. It also didn't hurt that they were lacking a sufficient team for the shadowrunning that they needed to do. When they brought me in, I brought Koori along because, worst comes to worst, I count on her to at least have a decent reason for betraying me.