His name was Garde, Captain Garde. He was Military, the best of the best of the best. He had been the one guy they sent in when they needed it to be done. He had never failed, not once in all of his career. This made his fall all the harder. They had framed him, had marked him as a traitor, made him the black sheep and the ultimate evil in the eyes of those he had fought and shed blood for, those he had killed in the name of. To add insult to injury, they didn't even wait for the trial. He went to sleep one night in a house beside the love of his life and woke up to some scientist. Napalm, they told him, took his wife, his daughter and her child, and his son. How had it not taken him? Because of them they said, because they saved him, gave him a better body than the one the fires had destroyed. And all they asked for in return was his service.
Oh he had served them, had helped them with the same efficiency he had served his country with. But this time when they decided he was of no longer use to them, he was ready. He knew that he couldn't stop them, from shutting this body down, so before they turned on him, he turned on them. A simple phone call brought down the one of most powerful group of criminals and pirates known to the universe, made them into nothing but a vague thought in most minds.
Course he didn't off scott free, nobody ever did. They didn't kill him, they owed him that much, instead they dropped him here on this god forsaken world of prisoners and low life scum. Told him that if he survived long enough they'd get him out. More lies, but he didn't care anymore. You can only take so many knives in the back before you run out of room and patience, and he had long since ran out of patience.
His first few days he had plenty to deal with, a lot of people here didn't know his name. He changed that with the first guy who tried to kill him. Another thing that he had been left was his new body, course they didn't take it, they wouldn't take it. He had nothing else, everything else had been taken from him, his family, his love, his life, and his body. But in retrospect they probably should have taken it, as it was essentially a weapon. Highest end of prosethetic, the kind of tech only an insane amount of criminal activity or military contract gets you. No maintenance, modular hardware and self evolving programming. He had all kinds of special tech, and he himself was badass incarnate, but his personal favorite of it was the armblades. Diamond edged for that extra cutting power, molecular engineered for solidity and strength, at any range he was dangerous, but in close range he was a nightmare, a whirlwind of blades and, usually, blood.
Needless to say, the first man to attempt his life found himself fertilizing a fourty square foot space, his gravestone marked by his scattered bones. Also needless to say, he was left to his peace and quiet after that, and nobody even wanted to talk to him after the second person, who had simply asked his name. Maybe he shouldn't have killed that one, but in honesty he no longer cared who died at his hands.
A smile touched his face as he remembered. "Am I a sociopath then, now that I just don't care? Maybe that's what happens when you become a machine..... Or maybe that's what happens when you die." He mused to himself, "For all we know, I could have died and went to hell, and a demon has taken my place."
He stood in the open, something he would never have done before getting his new body, especially not in such a hostile area. He turned to his left and saw a derelict ship and smiled, making his way to what he would make his new home.