Fantome

[Lythrilux]

There was blood on the floor. Blood on the doors. Blood on the walls. Blood on the windows. Death had made its presence known. The rotting corpses lay mangled in the corridor, going on for as far as the eyes could see. This wasn't a war, a small conflict, a brawl or even a small fight. Only one side had substantial fatalities. This was an extermination. And he was too late to stop it.

Luc LeMarsh stood solemnly in the doorway. He crouched down beside one of the bodies. He lifted up its arm and pulled back the bullet-hole ridden, bloodied sleeve. A single tattoo was imprinted on the deceased's wrist: the Gallic Junker Familia insignia. Luc sighed.

Once again, his kin would dwindle even more. Even after the initial massacre, the Union Corse was still determined to crack down on any remaining members of the Familia. Fortunately for Luc, his status as a Privateer and recent elevation into the GRN kept him mildly safe from the UC assassins. This was not enough comfort for his tastes though, and he still slept with a pistol under his pillow.

He got up and walked back into the hangar. In due time, the assailants would pay for what they've done. But for now, Luc would venture back into the dark reaches of space and continue his search for survivors. Before stepping into his Wrecker he lit up his last cigarette. Its warmth reminded him of when his father took him on a tour of this station and through the smelting plants. It was the only time he didn't feel alone.

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