The Gratitude of the Void

Of all the hazards Astarlane had dealt with in the past, psychotropics were by far the worst. Raiders, toxics, traps - those, she felt, were honest dangers.

But the psychotropics weren't like that. They used you - used your inner demons against you. It didn't need to work out your weaknesses when it amplified them instead.

The first few were easy. Images of friends long dead came at her, clawing mindlessly - she batted them aside contemptuously, returning them to mist that curled lasciviously around her as she strode straight through.

The mist withdrew, almost pensive. This time the visions pleaded with her, begged her. You can save us, they promised. It's not too late.

Astarlane shook her head and kept walking, but they persisted, dragged on her sleeves. We can't hold on, they came again. Save us-

Her gun came spinning into her shoulder and dispatched them with a single deafening blast, throwing their broken and tattered bodies aside. She breathed out, heavily.

It was going to be a long day.