Freelancer - The Void

I’m what they call a second gen: I was allowed to live during one of their raids. I still haven’t decided if that was a good or a bad thing, as I still remember the first time that I met the REAVERS.

We were four families just wanting to start over on a new planet. We acquired a small transport and left Planet New York to start a simpler life. Three weeks into the trip, our pilot noticed a small fighter following us at a distance. Then it happened: one ship became five, and they took out our engines. No warning, nothing, they just attacked us like a rabid pack of dogs... and then the shooting stopped. We hoped and prayed that whoever they were, they would just leave us be.

Then they boarded: the filthiest, ugliest creatures you have ever seen. Our weapons were limited, so I grabbed the biggest wrench I could find and separated the head from the shoulders of the one closest to me. That surprised them, and it even made the one that looked like he was in charge smirk. For some reason, instead of killing me, they started to beat me with anything they had until the big one walked up. He gave me one last punch to the head, and I was out cold.

I was awakened by a searing pain up my back. Manticore, I think that’s what they called him, was cutting shallow slices into my back with his knife. When he realized that I was awake, he grabbed me by the hair and made me look into those empty eyes of his. “Since you took it upon yourself to kill a REAVER, I think that you should take his place.” He let go of my hair, and I looked around to see most of my companions huddled in a corner. What they did next, to my wife and to my friends, filled me with a kind of rage that I never even knew existed. I tried to look away, but they would turn my head back. When I closed my eyes, Manticore cut out my eye lids. The longer they tortured them, the more the rage entered me and my soul left. By the time they were done, I was a shadow of myself, a soulless shell filled with an unstoppable rage. Manticore looked back at me, tore the last piece of flesh off of a bone and said “He’s one of us now. Draugr, what should we call him?” Draugr replied “Doppleganger should do nicely”.

Since that day, I’ve killed so many and eaten so much flesh. I even gained enough trust from Manticore and Draugr to move into a position of power. Then it happened... not all at once, mind you, but I started to get thoughts. I was becoming more than a mindless killer; I was actually starting to enjoy it. I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to see how good I was at it. I headed for the deepest darkest reaches of space, alone, just to kill and feast. That’s when the thoughts of what happened started to creep in. I started to remember what Manticore and Draugr did to me that day, but now I can control the rage, which makes me even all the more dangerous.
I decided that it is time to head back to Unknown 2 and make my presence known again. It will be nice to hunt with my brothers once more, and if a stray shot should happen to hit Manticore or Draugr, well, hopefully the last thing they will see is my smirk.

=D>
(Your family and friends went off and joined up with a bunch of loonies called the black legion) That should make you madder than ever!

"Them scars dont look right.." grumbled Snaggletooth as he chewed on a tibia and then spat out the gristle.

Vermin looked up from the plate of kidneys towards the new figure in the mess hall. The guy had that hunted look that all new Reavers had, like a scared trader in the lights figuring out whether to bolt or to stay.  The infection was taking its course through his blood and the hunger was begining to take hold. Vermin saw that most of the other Reavers had looked up from their plates and bones.  "Interesting........" he thought.
There was certainly something about this guy that drew the eye.

"Shut up and eat you moron! He's new and the scars will come, you bent jawed, buckle faced savage..!" and with a grunt Vermin hit Snaggletooth in the face with his plate. "FIGHT!!!" was the resounding cry and the hall decended into manic chaos.  Bits of bone, flesh, muscle and entrail were flying all round the place as Vermin and Snaggletooth fought on the floor with others joining in.  

In the ensuing chaos Doppleganger was able to find himself a seat over by the roaster and without a second glance he grabbed up a forearm and sat on the bench to watch the fight.  His hunger for the moment abated by the roasted flesh.  It would be a little while till he got used to the taste of the rawness of human and alien kind....

(Welcome aboard mate!)