My brother Michael was killed by Gallente scum... I don't remember it, but that's what they told me in the Concord holding cell. Which is now my first real memory. I have flashes from before that, but nothing I can really put my finger on. Those flashes are the only time I am truly happy.

I've lived to fight for so long that I had almost forgotten what peace is like. Don't get me wrong, I still take joy in watching the hull of scum pop like a biscuit can from the concussion of my missiles. It's more of a favorite past time though.... Makes me feel like I'm doing my brother proud, you know?

Most days I rest my solace on the whims of the roid belts.... Industry keeps me busy.... keeps me sane... really, it's all I can do to keep the anger down.

Truth is I'd kill myself, but they'd just clone my ass....