Home, Sweet Home.

I just finished my house.

Where the Verklund base is a grey futuristic moon base, with a small green park to compensate the urban atmosphere a bit, my home is classic. Old fashioned. I have a small cottage, close to the sea, in the backyard of Mum's mansion.
My whole family, apart from Dad, lives here.
Let's me take you on a small guided tour...

A little overview of the living room. On the far side is my working corner, to the left my fireplace, to the right the livingroom and in front the diner.

Me at my desk, writing this blog at the end of my workingday. As you can see I am in my formal uniform.

Some time to think the day over. My little moment of meditation, watching at the flames in the fireplace.

Final stage before going to bed, a nice warm bath to relax body and mind.

I love my big bed, nice, warm and soft with lots of cushions and blankets to curl up and sleep

I love the morning sun. Waking up, with it's rays warming my skin. Sipping my Operations coffee.

I hold high combat morals, but since our former opponents, the Merczateers, have the best coffee on the grid, I luted a life time supply.

I am happy I did... I don't think I will see the city of Badnarik for a long time.

Time to go to work, leaving the empty cup on the dining table...

Behind my house, my transport to my work awaits.

I really must ask the Führer for a company car. It might take some more travelling time, but at least the neighbours will stop complaining.

Who am I?

Most people are born. Having a father and mother. I was not born.

The first two years of my life are a mystery. Lost... It was the age I was orphaned. My parents died in an avalanche during a walk in the French alps, close to Grenoble. They protected me with their bodies, sacrificing their lifes to safe mine.
I would have faced the same destiny, if it was not for a small platoon of French Legionnaires, who saw the incident happening across the valley. The small platoon, led by l'adjudent-chef Avenger Zapatero ran to the rescue. Too late for my parents, but in time to save me. Avenger would be playing a big role in my life.
He, the fierce Legionnaire, adopted me as his daughter. It was impossible for a Legionnaire in active duty to raise a child, but he found a great foster mother. She, Ioko Yifu, raised several daughters in her big mansion. I was one of them.

So this is why I consider myself found, not born.

My youth was a happy one. My foster mother and father did not have any relation. Ioko however knew that a father figure should be part of every girl’s life, and allowed Avenger to take that part in my life. Avenger loved his girl. He learned me all kinds of things he knew. Without knowing, I was trained... Avenger loved me, but the skills he taught me were his. He trained me in self defense, savate... Later on he learned me to shoot... The hide and seek games we played, the camping out we did, were military training. And I loved every bit of it. I inherited his skills, but not his temper. He called me his little combateer. Somehow that name became the name I go by...

Ioko was the intelligent mother. She learned me to be patient. In fact, she and dad were absolute contradictions. Ying and yang, but together a perfect balance. She guided me through my education. Learned me to be polite, respectful. She nourished me with her love, motivating me to train my intellectual skills. She always calls me by my given name, Erika. She and a only few special friends, are the ones who use it.

In retro perspective I had a very uncommon youth, but a very happy one. My parents were an odd combination. The old angry legionnaire, and the always patient mother. The combination of the two made me choose for a military career. After graduating the military academy, I joined the Vanguard Armed Forces