Born on Mars in the middle of the Martian desert to a family of nomads who had been traveling from one city to another, performing odd jobs and just getting by. Back then, there was no politics behind it, not really, just a simple lifestyle choice, a need to see all of Mars. His parents were free spirits, hippy types, and were in love with the natural beauty of the Red Planet.
Cord became sick of it pretty early on. He liked the planet itself well enough, loved it even, in his own way. But he grew tired of moving constantly, only staying somewhere long enough for him to make friends before they up and moved again.
So when he was sixteen, he left. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for the younger generations to leave for a while, so he said his goodbyes and began his own journey, bouncing from one hab to another. After this went on for a year or two, he joined up with a group of Rangers, and applied for a job. Surprisingly enough, after allowing him to shadow them for a while, they accepted him into their ranks.
Cord loved the Rangers. He loved making a real difference in people’s lives, putting the bad guys behind bars and making sure good people remained safe to go home to their loved ones at night.
He met a girl, Jenny (?), and they were married when he was only 22. It wasn’t long before the kids came along, two boys. They didn’t make a lot, but lived happily enough in a tin can on the flats. It was rural living compared to most, but Cord liked it. He was happy.
Then the Fall happened. He was out on call, all of the Rangers being called in for emergency service, and he was dealing with TITAN controlled synths in Pilsner city when it happened. Whatever it was that the TITANs did, that wiped out everything in what would become the TQZ. And inside of that Quarantine was his little tin can, with his wife and kids.
Cord made it back inside, but never found the tin can. It was simply gone, like it had never existed. He even dug, meters below the hard rocky martian surface, and came up with nothing. They had simply vanished.
People were sympathetic, but there was no time for mourning. The population had just grown isometrically, and everyone had lost somebody they loved. He was nothing special.
So he kept working, kept on the job, because he had to, and because it was the only thing that kept him from thinking about it.
But things had changed. The Rangers had changed, the people had changed, and the job had changed. He was no longer making a difference, he was just beating back the waves of decay. The Rangers were no longer really allowed in the major settlements, instead replaced by local militias.
So eventually, things came to a head, and he turned in his badge. About this time, maybe a little before, it’s hard to say, was when he started drinking pretty seriously. And to make money to pay for the drinks, he began Ego Hunting.
So that takes us to today. Ten years have passed since the Fall, Cord is in his mid to late 30s, and has been in the bottle for most of that time. He’s made a reputation as a pretty good Ego Hunter, a man with few scruples who just wants to finish his job so he can get back to being the sad individual he has come to be.
Maybe, just maybe if he found something worthwhile though, he can start to turn things around. Make a difference again.
