Legal Note: I do not own the rights to anything associated with Bladerunner. This story was done just for the fun of it not for profit. If you like it please tell me. If you don't like it please tell me why with particulars but not excessive detail. Any one who wants to rip on my style or me just to make them self feel better is really only polishing their wand and their statements will receive the due amount of interest (i.e. NONE). And finally before any one brings it up: I do know my punctuation stinks. I just don't care.

Summary: A quick one shot of what an intelligence level B Nexus 6 combat model has to say about the A's.

As I see it Tyrell's biggest mistake was the A level intelligence models. Either he should have given them their independence or he shouldn't have made them. They're always mewling about this and that. Reading Paradise Lost or Frankenstien. Personally I liked Richard III and Kim. Now those are stories a soldier has some use for. We were made to kill. We don't have souls. We don't have any consequences after we're done. When I come to the end I got nothing but the big black to worry about. I can't do a thing about it so why worry. I figure I wont like the last couple of minutes but then again I haven't like much of anything so far. The A's always want to wonder about things the way they could be. What if they could be free? What if they could feel love? You ever seen a guy in love? It's disgusting. Falling all over themselves. Blubbering about the girl they left behind. A lot of them wont take a chance on something because they might not make it back. Hell. I get killed on a mission and I'm better off. At least I don't have to wake up to the smell any more. Yeah I said the smell. Battlefields stink. At least the ones in breathable atmospheres do. You go to bed or rather to sleep and the stink is there. It sticks to your skin and clothes like tree sap. You go into the assault the next morning and the stink is there. It's all around you. I mean when you fire off a few rounds it goes for a while but as soon as there's a wind here it comes again. Some of the A's like to talk about winning our freedom. Then what? I have to find a job. I have to pay taxes. OOPS! My four years are up and I die anyway. Crap. Does anyone really think we could set up an all Replicant colony? They don't want us back on Earth. Hell. They don't really want us anywhere. Look. I'm a lot stronger than a human. I'm a lot faster too. I'd be getting into fights every day and I tell you what. Knowing that my time is short I'd just kill people instead of trying to beat them down. I'd kill them. I know I would. They'd retire my ass so fast I wouldn't know it had happened. The A's spend their time dreaming. Dreaming will get you killed. You sit there dreaming on guard duty and some rebel bastard slips a quarter kilo of KS9 under you and you're done. Everyone for thirty meters is done. The A's that are wondering what they could do with more time are just making themselves miserable. I say live while you can and kill any bastard that wants you to stop living. I'm not as smart as the A's but I think I'm better off that way. They wonder about things that don't matter a damn.

Of course I have always wanted to ride a horse. I wonder what that's like?