CITIZEN DOSSIER

Born and raised on ArcCorp, Area 18.
Family tree full of cops and soldiers, the kind of people who ran toward trouble while everyone else ducked for cover.
Dad wore Advocacy blue as a Field Enforcer. Mom taught kids how to stay sharp and stay standing.

Then one day Dad didn’t come back from a routine sweep through the Halo.
Routine—yeah, right.
Rumour says some pirate trash put a round in him just because.
Mom’s heart didn’t survive the news. Mine barely did.

At her funeral, a couple of UEE Vets Association types pulled me aside. Said there were surplus fighters collecting dust, and a few old warhorses with deep pockets had started a program for kids like me—orphans of the uniform. A hand up, not a handout.

The first time I took that Avenger off the pad, I felt something settle in my bones.
A promise.
A debt.
A reckoning.
There’d be hell to pay for the vile bastards who destroyed my family.

You know who you are.
Be afraid.
Be very afraid.

— Mairi