LT Malcolm Krieger (RET) 558A98 Age 22 One Term 5000cr
Rifle 1, SMG 1, Brawling, Fwd Obs
Malcolm Kriger was an aimless youth of no great potential. He was smart, but not particularly athletic or ambitious. By way of an upper middle class upbringing, he was able to dodge most levels of responsibility until he was tossed out of the house after a barfight and embarrassing-to-the-family-name night in jail. The Army recruiter loved him.
During his first term, he excelled mostly by faking it until he made it, his laziness flying under the radar as he tripped over a commission as a Lieutenant and stumbled through officer training as a forward observer. A disagreement with his CO, CPT Trigger, a flash of characteristically self-sabotaging temper, and a month in the brig left the young LT without an invitation for continuing service with the Army.
CPT Trigger, as a last middle-finger to the PITA Krieger, left him at a backwater waystation called Moonshine with no ticket out, no farewell weaponry, and only the wages that he had not wasted on liquor, fighting, and women in that order.
Thus far able to coast on above average intelligence and the bare minimum of effort, Krieger was left to actually have to make something of himself without any kind of real foundation as a man. Great. A temper and a little experience does not a brawler make, but he at least knew how to handle a weapon and call in an orbital strike? What the fuck use is that in civilian life?
Wandering the streets of the city leaves him with little other than rumors that a local shipment of corn destined for the corpo-distilleries was overdosed with pesticides and like to kill anyone that drinks anything made from it. Maybe that info could be peddled to someone of note if he could find out more information, but until then he needed a place to crash and probably a weapon. This place is definitely sketchy.
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