March 4, 2126Kj is on duty at the time of this interviews recording, and although he is absent from it at the moment his mentor and adopting father, the retired Major Hardick Schaefer, is here to conduct. He has aged much since he was last in service, and although he is seventy two years old, and is no longer the young man that he used to be, he is still very strong and keeps well to the regular male Schaefer look of physical fitness. His hair has turned ghostly white, the wrinkles on his face have become more pronounced, and he is to some degree smaller than I'd anticipated him.
Still he is strong, fit, the three slash marks on the left side of his head are still there from when he and A'rgr-lo fought together many years ago, and his square jaw continues to help invoke that look of distaste he wears commonly.
Since his retirement he has mellowed some but is still very sharp and hard. Being the person who trained the hero of KJ147 he doesn't disappoint. His presence is rather unexpected, having come for a visit, but like all honest and hardworking heroes as he is, his presence is always welcome and treated with the utmost respect. He crushes my hand in a firm hand shake as we introduce each other. We have a short chat as we moosy throughout the facility, and then our interview begins in what used to be his office, which has now been taken apart and rebuilt to house his successor, and adopted son Kj. As we begin, he lights a cigar not caring for the Non-smoking indoors sign in the wall outside.
Man does this place bring back some fond memories. I know they've taken the place apart and refinished it to house Kjon, but as for the aesthetic and overall feel. Ahh.
He sighs as he puffs out a smoke cloud, and sinks into the oversized, and remarkably comfortable chair, as the memories come back to him.
It hasn't changed a bit.
"You call Kj, Kjon?"
Ehh call em Kj, Kjon, Jon. It doesn't matter he prefers either of the three, just don't call him KJ147, seriously not a good idea, One of the grunts he trained with, who was a real peice of work, made that mistake and paid for it.
"I take it you trained him to be the best. Not to take anything from anyone or anything."
Well yeah, but the main idea at the time was to teach him how to stay alive. How to survive on his own, and judging by his track record for the past twenty years of service he's put in, and the number of bug nests he's swatted, I'd say he passed in flying colors. F an A, that kid is amazing.
"May you please tell me what got you interested in Kj and what made you want to recruit him?"
Well when the kid was just a toddler his mother gave him combat training to teach him how to survive, and since the training yard was right outside his enclosure, easy for him to see out that big ass window, he began learning off of my boys, memorizing colonial marine combat techniques and integrating them with his regular Predator training. I'd say that's when I first got interested. You already know this stuff Kj told you, and he told me about you interviewing him to that's how I know, if you were wondering. And that's one of the reasons why I came to. But I more or less just wanted to stop by see how the place was, how my sons holding it up. Done a pretty good job if I do say so myself.
Anyway. You know the rest of the story, up to when I took him under my wing, after those asswipes Levinson, Daniel, and Weekes tortured the poor kid. Frigging worthless buttwipes got what they deserved. I can understand they were mad because they lost their friends to Predators, but come on, you don't take it out on a seven year old kid who, just lost his mom and don't even know why the hell he's being punished, even if Weylandtold em to do it. Ticks me off. Those guys definitely got thrown out of the Corps. Should be lucky he didn't kill em. But I'm sort off glad he didn't do it though.
Anyway, I though about the kid ever since I saw him do that, and thought how awesome it'd be to have him, a friggin Predator, as a Colonial Marine, no that was a thought. My family's had run-ins with these guys before. Sometimes we'd fight each other, other times we'd fight along side each other. But mostly we've been at odds with these guys ever ,since my great anscetstor Dutch fought one all the way back in 1987. So it'd be nice to see one that was fully on our side for once. But they were Weyland Yutani property, and while the United States Colonial Marine Corps was also Wey-Yu property, he didn't hold us to the same level of immediate importance as he did his science projects. And boy he did not want the two of those ptroperties to get mixed up in anything, because he knew we'd shut it down.
That's another thing he always tried to makes us see, that we were his property, and while we were technically, he still wanted us to protect the xenos rather than off them. "They were to precious." He'd say. "The perfect organism." My ass." I should have told him that if he knew what we had to go through just to get everything secure so these things wouldn't escape and kill the colonists.. Sorry I'm getting off topic here
"It's alright. I edit these."
Thanks, anyway, I felt so sorry for Kj and his mother. Weyland was gonna brainwash the kid, to make him a tool to throw at the xenomorphs to try and keep em contained. Good Lord am I glad that didn't pan out. Not just for Kjon's sake but for us to, I mean really if Weyland's little project had worked out, imagine how many unemployed marines there'd be. Not to mention the number of brainwashed Predators running around to. Thank God that never happened.
"You seem to have a deep respect for the Yautja."
One of em saved my life, and helped me with a bug hunt, another one respected me as a brother, and I raised Kjon. Heck these guys have been my family most honorable adversaries now for over six hundred years, well before I was even born, so yeah I have a very deep respect for them. I felt sorry for Kjon 's mom because I was the one that found her still alive. I was the one that allowed her to be found by Weyland. I ensured she'd survive her wounds from Marlow's Valley. I ensured that the last seven years of her life would be nothing but pain and dishonor, and I also ensured her son, Kj would bear that shame just as much as she would. So you can tell I felt a little responsible. On the plus side, I did get to return the favor to an enemy that has been trying to murder us Schaefer's for so long, and raise an awesome kid.
"I understand you have no family."
I had a wife but she died before we could... you know. You can understand I did feel bitter about it to.
He sits in silence for a few moments, throws away his cigar in an ashtray on the desk, and lights another before continuing.
I wont lie when I tell you I did fell some sadness come over me when I found out Kjon's mom had died. I'd known her for a little while, got to respect each other as siblings, and treated each other like friends. I'd lost some friends before her, including my own wife, so yeah. At least she made sure Kjon was safe, and she did torch Weyland's lab before she left. Hehehehe suck it asshole.
He gives the middle finger over to a framed picture of Charles Weyland with his daughter ,Jennifer.
Having lost family, and loved ones of my own, I could understand what Kjon was going though. I just never lost em when I was a kid. So I guess I should say I had some idea. I wanted to comfort the kid, tell em it'd be okay. But how do you tell that to a something that isn't part of your own species. Besides Weyland kept me off of that portion of the lab area for some time. He knew I was talking with Kj's mom, and he never did anything about it because that would help solidify that "hey we humans ain't all that bad." But after, he didn't want me to go anywhere ear there lest I dissappear. It was only after I heard what happened to Levinson, Daniel, and Weekes, that I was allowed to enter that area of the facility again. I saw what that kid had done to three of my well trained marines, and then that thought about having him as a Colonial Marine popped right back in my head. But this time, Weyland had no use for him, since his little science project plan for him ended up in pieces on the ground.
"You took the opportunity to confront Weyland concerning the topic, and succeeded."
Hey no sense to leave a potential asset to rot in a cage, torturing it until it just dies.
"How did it go?"
We cussed each other out until one of us gave in. I'd been in fights with Weyland before, so I wasn't scarred in the least bit by any of his bullst threats. I won the argument, got permission to take him and made him into the best damn Marine I'd ever trained.
"And how did that go?"
Well the kid looked up to me as a dad, couldn't blame him for why. But I wanted to get the message clear to him during his training that I was his D.I. and not his dad.
"You didn't want to be his father."
More like I just didn't care if he saw me as his dad or not. Glad he did though. I really needed someone I could take care of, you know. Show em the ropes. Allow the family legacy to go on stuff like that.
"How did he do in boot camp?"
At first he was terrible, but I expected that as much. Whenever we get fresh meat for the grinder, they're always a little wet behind the ears. Kj was no different. Plus he was only seven and a half. And although he was a smart and physically fit little spifk, there are limits to what seven year old can do, even if they are above average seven year olds. He sucked at just about everything, granted he didn't know what he was learning much of the time, I still pushed on him, and I pushed hard. Everytime he, messed up something, I'd either put him over myself, or have his bunkmates do something to improve him. And he learned real quick what to do and what not to do. He'd refer to me as sir before and after every sentence, he wouldn't speak unless spoken to, or otherwise, he'd keep food in the mess hall and no where else, he'd learn to be neat and clean, respectful, quick, honest, and hard working. Which after the first month of training he did fine in. He never really tried to do anything wrong, but hey when you mess up you have to learn someway. And given the fact he feared me just about as much as I fear and worship God on Sunday. I didn't need to worry about him being obedient to me.
Physically, he was fit, especially for a seven year old, but he was not up to the standards we marines pushed ourselves everyday. Didn't matter what the heck it was, cardio, weightlifting, nothing. He wasn't even that good at school, target practice or combat training, and he'd beaten three well groomed marines before to. He just wasn't there yet. Sure for how old he was he was fantastic, but he wasn't a Marine. And he was supposed to be one of the most skilled and successful hunters in the world. He was supposed to be a Predator, but was instead becoming something that a Predator could kill and make a trophy out of. It's hard enough we have to fight xenos, but Predators, Oh my God. And to think fighting them was next to impossible. Teaching them felt down right futile.
I had to toughen him up somehow, He was t focused in on what was happening, he wasn't accepting what he was needing to become, what I was to teach him. He wasn't a kid anymore, he had to be a marine. Anything less than that was no good. After a couple months I began punishing his bunk mates instead of him so that they could make him see what was going on, that hopefully some violence would make the idea click in his head that "hey I'm not a kid anymore, I'm a marine."
"How did that experiment end?"
I'd like to say it did the job, which it did, but I should have expected what the outcome would be. Apparently there were a couple guys he bunked with who didn't like his species, just as much as Levinson,Daniel, and Weekes did. One night there were these three maggots barely even out of boot camp. They'd had enough of getting punished for things he did, and became quite angry because of it. They moved him out of bed silently, and into the bathroom area of the barracks where they beat him, cut him open with their knives, heck I'm sure they at one point shoved his head in the toilet, and beat him with the lid as he was face first in. It was terrible. He did try to fight back, but they ganged up on him, they shoved their socks in his mouth so he couldn't scream when he tried to call for help.
I'd obviously taken things way to far. After one of them ,Jones, I believe his name was, made a vulgar comment about his mom and debauchery, along with him being a disappointment, Ohhh boy did he lose it that time. After it was all over Kj had Jones by the throat with the sharp piece of porcelain in his hand ready to slit Jones' throat open. I had to stop him before he could do it. He roared back at me in defiance. I saw his point. It was like telling me "WHAT THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME!" And yes this I what I wanted from him, I wanted him to toughen up to accept that this was what he had to become, and in turn I just ended up sending another three marines out of the Corps that evening. I'm pretty sure Jones and his cronies ended up drinking the rest of their food from a straw forced into their nose, for the rest of their lives. At the end of it, Kj was to exhausted and cried like a baby on the blood soaked floor of that bathroom all night long. And yes I did end up comforting the kid that night.
After that things changed. I don't know if it was the disposable comments about his mother and her backside, or him being such a disappointment, it was most likely both but whatever the case I saw a new look in his right eye the next morning. It was like it was burning angry. Like a fire that couldnt be put out inside his soul. And it was. He got better, he became more and more focused on the tasks at hand, he learned quickly, and trained hard. His aim became better, and his attitude was like that of a marine's. Within a couple months he out ran me in running, and was lifting heavier weights, Finally by the age of ten he was a the best marine I'd ever trained. And the best son I ever raised. Also the only son I ever raised.
"You accepted him as your son?"
More like he adopted me as his dad. And I was proud of him to. I loved him like he was my son, which he is. I still refuse to let him call Dad though just because, I'm an asshole like that. And I'll stay that way even after Christ comes back. Ohh and speaking of which he also adopted Christianity as his religion to. That's another thing I'm love about him. That he is in alot of ways like me, but he's his own self made person, he merely imprinted on much of my characteristics and beliefs and refined them with his own Predator traits and boda-bing boda-boom, he's all the sudden the pride of the Colonial Marine Corps. and the hero of this planet.
And to think that fking up his life was the best thing I ever did to him. Sure I didn't deliberately do it, but I still did it. Hey when life goes to fk you in the ass, you slap it in the face, put a bandaid on it and keep rolling. Only he doesn't use bandaids, their to small for his big ass. Hehehehehehehehehehehe.
We both laugh at the joke. After some more unimportant talking, we disperse with the interview.