Ricor Messman
The acting captain of the ship sat in silence, periodically mopping his brow with a greasy rag. It was his only visible act.
He had never planned radical decisions, looking for little more than a swift but responsible retirement at the earliest opportunity. Now a pack of leeches infested his ship, treacherous worms that they were. But Ricor wondered; did he care?
It was his team down there at engineering, but now matters grew more complicated he cared little for the fates of the rest of the crew. Vape them all, he thought. The rats and everyone around them. I was ready to welcome them, they spit in my face. Toss them all into the void, and a pity about the hostages.
But he said nothing, gave no direction. The oily cloth moved up again.
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