Borg (NS)

Two friends listen to some music and then go over what they do to get their feelings out, while catching up on old times.

Compound 117
Liberated Republic of Drom

He turned up the boombox and leaned back into his chair, looking over his friend.

"It is clear I was bought
The beginning, was obviously housing
It's an effective bribe
and is very emotionally rousing

After that came the food
Clothing
And the education

Pretty clear
That I am owned
Mind, body, and soul"

Okay, so the singer they got for this isn't that bad. The lyrics that were written by Richard were pretty forward, this could get some serious radio-play; even if no one knew who wrote this.

"If you want to own someone
You got to cough up yourself
But let it be very clear right now
That I won't be priced and on a shelf

I bring the dough and get
A large cut of the pie
I get all of the privileges
And the war-criminals die"

This culture didn't beat around the truth about it's history or it's future. Death was part of the culture, any culture of war had to come to grips with that.

"The car that I bought
It's actually quite shiny
Have you seen the women
All of them here are very spiny

After that came the tough ammo
The sturdy cars
And the documentaries

Pretty clear
That I am owned
Mind, body and soul"

Celebrating life and death, that was how you dealt with it. Life could be short, unfair and, very brutal. There was a reason why people like them existed, to balance it all out and bring something different to the world.

"Blood is blood
You learn this in youth
But it stops being blood
When people bend the truth

And whoever opens up
They become the blood
And the strong emotions
They just become a flood"

Whoever did the beat knew what he was doing, but it's likely the beat was bought from some other nation. A lot of music in the Motherland was like that. Expressing yourself was never something they were terribly good at. Expression was frequently loud but crude.

"I got it tatooed on my arm
On my shirt
And all over my socks

Pretty clear
I am owned
Mind, body, and soul
Warrior on the payroll
Service fails to take a toll
Full control
Over the full whole
Heart is burning
Endless coal"

Franklin looked up at Richard and gave him a thumbs up.

"If I was young, this would be my jam." He admitted, nodding. "I'm glad you got into poetry, it's something that appears to have been passed down."

"What about you?" Richard asked, leaning onto his palms; which were held up by elbows on the table "You expressing yourself as well? I find it helps deal with all the bullshit we dealt with."

"I think the work I have been doing has been plenty of closure for me." Franklin answered "I never really lost anyone, but it has been nice to actually work with other people for once. I think I have some leadership in me, it's interesting."

"Leadership?" Richard wondered, raising a brow "You mean the crazy band of mercs you led?"

"More like spontaneous." Franklin corrected "It was like being in a group of thrill-seekers. Planning, no planning; careful, not careful. No matter what they did, it was like we were a kill-team."

"Kill-team?" Richard coughed out "What the f**k do you mean by a kill team? Like you were straight up gutting people like the Fist, Hand or Sword?"

"We would stumble into hostiles and they would die." Franklin explained "The only real cost was a Jeep, my shoulder, my arm, another guy's shoulder, and his knee caps."

"So you and this other guy are borgs too now?" Richard inquired, leaning back into his chair

"I'm Black Hand Sir." Franklin noted, he said looking at his arm "After the lung, all of this was just more of the same. Yet... I still have nightmares. It's really hurting me that I don't have that arm anymore, it feels like it's still there. I thought it would be easier."

"I just lost a hand, but I'm still recovering." Richard admitted "I just have to take it as part of my process of becoming a badass and just live like that is the cause."

"Badass, heh." Franklin glummy noted "The crew is made up of badasses. The wasteland must be covered in bodies at this point."

"You got a sniper in this crew of yours?" Richard wondered, grinning a little. "Someone who thinks himself deadshot?"

"David." Franklin answered "David is a burglar. Never leave your valuables off your person around him. But, with his nimbleness and his Arctic Warfare Magnum in Lapua; he's quite a shot."

"He got himself a AWM?" Richard said, laughing softly. "You must have been making some pretty good money over there."

"It was just from the ten grand he got as part of the first job." Franklin confirmed, shrugging. "Lots of bodies means lots of guns and ammo to sell."

"Anyone else who was a good shot?" Richard inquired.

"We had some others, but they quit early because of the pressure or because they got sick." Franklin revealed