Chromosome Warrior
PSI, Dark Energy, and the Alien Ragnarök
I am a Warrior!
Call me Jill. It's not my name, though it has been my handle since I lied about my age to join the military.
Yeah, that’s right; G.I. Jill.
If I would tell the tale, you'd beg to understand where was I born, how lousy my childhood had been, what sort of monsters my parents were, that Dickensian sort of crap.
Fuck that!
If you must know the simple truth, I'm an authentic Man in Black, the real deal. That's all you need to know.
Years ago — before The Agency found me — having little money and despite some 'spiritual' gifts, few prospects due to my gender and stature, I decided to enlist in the service. I'm uncertain what I expected, a few adventures and travel the world, I suppose. Better than hooking – not that anything's wrong with that.
Petite, Chinese, and pretty; assets to a hooker, hindrance to a warrior. I needed to kick someone in the teeth — several someones in fact — until they saw more than curves.
Schooled in weaponry and marksmanship; I discovered I like weapons.
