From Red Faction Wiki

  • Col. Masako is a Merc squad leader.


    • Team: Merc
    • Role: Colonel
    • Sex: Female
    • Status: Deceased (2078)


    This whole place is going to hell. I knew Capek was trouble the minute I laid eyes on the freaky egomaniac. But he's Ultor's golden boy and no one listens to me. This complex is going to explode and I'll have to put the pieces back together. I'm gonna make sure Capek's caught in the blast. The battalion's been in tough spots before and we can handle this one. If things go bad, Ultor security's going to get hit first. We'll let the miners work over the security guards while we dig in. The guards should buy us enough time to bunker down around the base's vital points. Once the miners crash against us and stagger back to lick their wounds, we'll counterattack in strength. Should have them crushed in a few days. Might be able to catch a bunch of those jackass guards in some friendly fire too, as a bonus.

    Capek's gonna die for sure. That pompous ass just won't leave me alone. Calling and storming into my quarters. 'Protect my work,' 'Will not tolerate interruptions to my research,' 'Earn your pay, Masako,' etc., etc. As if this whole SNAFU wasn't all his fault in the first place. Serves him right if we let the miners rip through his labs and trash everything he's worked on for the last five years. Then I can shoot the half-cyborg bastard and blame the miners for it. They'll all be dead anyway.

    This is my last contract. I can't take what passes for strategic thinking at Ultor anymore. It's not like the old days. Ten or 15 years ago, when Ultor called us in, it was to kill everything that moved. No police action, no sit-and-wait, no watching miners flip us off. Even five years ago, if someone had done that to a merc, we would've killed him and everyone who looked vaguely like him. This job is as low as I go. Ultor'll have to get someone else to lead the battalion.

    I'm gonna go back to Earth when the dust settles here. London'll be my first stop. Not to stay, but for payback. I haven't been back since joining the Corps at 16, but I'm ready now. The old street scum have probably forgotten about me; they'll remember before they die. When I'm done in London, I'll find some other city to melt into. The streets can have me back, but on my terms this time.

    Earth's about the only place in the Solar System I haven't killed for Ultor. Fifteen years of eliminating people for no clear purpose has burned me out. Rebellions, strikes, sick-outs, protests -- it didn't matter. If Ultor said they had to die, that was good enough for me. No more. My cord's pulled as tight as it can go. Another tug and I'm gonna snap.

    When Ultor called us to Mars three months ago, I thought the execs had panicked. Now I don't know. It's going to get ugly down here. There's a tide rising that just might sweep Ultor's ass right off this planet. The security guards have held it back so far, but they won't last long when it breaks. We'll weather it though; we always have. Those miners are tough. With the right leadership they'll flatten the guards. But they don't stand a chance against my mercs.

    I still don't know what Capek's been doing, but he's responsible for all the missing miners, somehow. I don't know if the miners have figured it out yet, but I'm going to get it out of him before I kill him. He's the most arrogant SOB I've ever let live. Tells me I have no need to know what's going on. I'm supposed to just protect his pencil-necked eggheads from the mobs when they come around. Fat chance, implant-boy.

    Staying within the chain of command does no good either. DepAdmin Gryphon's supposed to be Ultor's direct link to us. But he's scared about something, more scared than I've ever seen anyone outside a firefight. Don't know if it's Capek, the miners, or this whole damn mess, but he's a basket case. Every time I talk to Gryphon about Capek, he shrivels up like I dumped a bucket of ice down his shorts. He won't cross Capek and he won't pass my complaints to the Admin. I'd happily leave bootprints on Gryphon's face on my way to see the Admin, but he's even more of a jellyfish than Gryphon.

    When this thing blows up, I'm not wasting my troops protecting their butts. I'm not losing a single soldier to save some egghead or Admin puffball. We're hunkering down and digging in. When we come out, everyone who's not a merc is gonna die. We're getting off this rock alive, even if no one else is."