Backwater Blues

[Hemlocke]

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She turned her gaze away from the man, tapping the armored fingers of her left hand on the table, she coughed a moment, a stream of crimson that looked almost black on her ghoulish complexion streamed down from the corner of her left lip, almost out of his view entirely, at least until it landed on her left hand, to which her fingers ceased tapping, and her gaze shifted down, wiping the blood onto her armored arm, probably explaining some of the rust on her suit. "I left Liberty during the nomad war, friends went missing, family was gone. Ironically, It was safer closer to the nomads in the Omicrons than it was in the colonies. I developed a hatred for them, began hunting a being I couldn't even comprehend. I loved it, the revenge for what they had done."

Onyx looked down at her now bloodied and disrespected armor, before glancing to the man, a strange sense of being able to confide in someone she probably wouldn't see again, and wouldn't tell a soul. She watched him for a moment, barely understanding why he sat this long talking to some random on a freeport. She decided to continue, drawing a comparison. A strong sense of discomfort and disgust evident in her tone.

"That's why I'm here.. there have been sightings in the whole eastern part of this system of strange ships, sporting unknown weaponry, and even nomads themselves on occasion, they're drawn by something, and I am in turn drawn to them. Though I find the more I fight them, the more I run from my past, the more I sink into my hatred, the more like those "things" I become. And in turn, the more like the machine I become. That's how they infiltrated Liberty so deep in the first place, they simply did what Liberty had already been doing for hundreds of years. Not a soul noticed."

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