USCM Dossier: Max Terry

[Rustarus]

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Welcome, user
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Subject: Max Terry

Age: 35

Sex: Male

Description: Hazel eyes, 5'8, Black hair, Black beard

Service time: 2 Years

Preferred Squad: Delta
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"Background from questioning"
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Max Terry, seems to be a loyal man. He fights with relentlessness, I can say that. One of his knees has.... a very strange scar on it. It looks like a bullet wound... or multiple. He seems to not want to talk about it. He gets lost in thought sometimes, but all in all, he is a good fighter, which is what we look for here.
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"Background recording"
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Recording start

You hear a bit of crackling, then a voice emerge

When I was young, back on Earth... in New Jersey, I.... remember. I remember looking at the skyscrapers, going to New York to see my Uncle... seeing how large they were, seeing how much progress was made within years and years of working together, and teamwork... like clockwork. Back then, I never thought of myself sitting here, hoping this'll get me some recognition from some others. I always sat in my room, watching the ceiling... then fall into a deep sleep. Each night back then, I could not help but to dream of being in space.

My parents did drugs, smoked cigs and drank, something I would never do... at least... I thought I would not... I hoped. I dug my grave deep.

You hear a creak of a chair while Max moves in his chair

My parents divorced... later on in my life. I was trying to get into a college, but fucked my choices in life up so badly, that I couldn't. May just be a reason why I am sitting here right now, bitching my life into this recorder. I fought hard to get into one, but kept being rejected. It came from nowhere, my mother.... she... died by liver damage.

All of the sudden my life went into a locking state. It was like I was stuck in a box, and just could not get out. A wave of depression crashed over me every time I tried to swim up to breathe. And there, about 19 years old, sobbing my life into a pillow I could barely afford... the dreams of space turned into dreams of sorrow and depressing thoughts. It was suffering.

I went to my mothers funeral and my father abandoned his old life for a new, and moved away before she died. I don't know if I should hate him, not blame him or just....

There is a 6 second silence

I applied to join the USCM seven years later, within that time trying to fucking fight for the scraps of money to survive each day, never getting into a college. I was accepted, and trained harder and harder. Through this time I lost all access to fucks I could give about life. I never thought I would risk it like this before. I became a PFC, and fought for months with each time, a different task. It was a strange time, I must admit though. I was assigned to the USS Sulaco, on Delta... going down on the Rasputin, and walking out, ironically, I was shot from two marines fighting each other. One tried disarming a guy with a gun, and... he had AP loaded. It misfired at me, right at my knee, 3 times... burst fire. I'm surprised my leg did not fall off, this had to be at least my 15th OP at this point... I officially retired. This job was NOT for me. 3 months later? Sulaco completely disappears... nobody knows what happened. Was it luck that got me out of there months before it got fucked? I would like to think so.

Who knows... I joined back on the USS Almayer here... and I hope... that this works for me. Days before my mother died... she said this when she complained one time, and I will never forget it...

"Everything is a battle, every breath is a war, and I don’t think I’m winning anymore."
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[Mook476]

I like this dossier, and the style you typed it up in plus you're a pretty cool person from what I know.