✵ September 19th, 2189 ✵
A cigarette hanged from the swollen lips of a middle aged woman, the small chamber reeked of more than nicotine and nitroasmine, but dread.
She couldn't help but smile to herself. She could already visualize the lithe hands of her nepotist executioners loading a 10x24mm round into their rifles. She bit her teeth into the filter and couldn't help but think of Icarus.
The voice of a warden barked her charges.
She couldn't help but think of what she could be reincarnated as.
A silkworm, a German or Indian peasant, perhaps the concubine of a Chinese warlord?
She really hoped to be reincarnated as one of the MP Cadets aboard the Persephone, just so she could pull the trigger herself.
"Check chambers!"
She couldn't help but think of the nickname issued in Cristobal.
"Take aim!"
Was she really in this chair?
"Fire!"
Oh wow. They shot her neck.
She desperately tried to grab at her throat that once barked harsh orders and harsher words.
She could hear a man chuckle and a woman roar in laughter.
✵ - ✵ - ✵ - ✵ ✵ - ✵ - ✵ - ✵ ✵ - ✵ - ✵ - ✵