This is an idea that has been rattling around inside my head for a while. I'm not sure I'll ever get it out. I don't want to give much away so I'll start with a brief.
He's a Gen-Warrior. Human and yet not human. Stuck on a vessel for god knows how many centuries we need people like them. Breed for their strength power and brutality Warrior's are soldiers and more.
Brian slipped from the sheet's his body tensing at the harsh cold. Around him the sounds of slumbering bodies hid the constant flight noise. He could feel her eyes on his back, it wasn't important. The common people weren't below him, just not really apart of his world. A distraction from the constant training regime of the canary teams, but little more. He picked up his uniform and began to dress.
"This will be 6 ?" her voice was liquid in the sharp cool of the artificial morning. "Nobody survives 6." Again her silvered voice seemed to penetrate the air without disturbing any of the slumbering bodies in the common room.
"Maybe. Does it matter ?" Brian tightened his belt, stretched his shoulders and walked towards the door. His body silhouetted against the exit frightened her. 6 foot tall and 4 foot wide his entire form seemed ready mutate into something alien and cruel. Chaos hidden within human form, raw power and destruction held in check by an all too flawed human mind. “If I make 6 you’ll see me again.” he paused, “Or not.” She watched him leave, her heart always fluttered slightly as he disappeared from view. However she never could tell if it was regret, or relief.