“Finding their way to a shelter did nothing for these souls,” Marc said in a voice devoid entirely of emotion.
Despite speaking normally his voice sounded distant and faint, a side effect of the carbon-dioxide rich environment. His voice was always lower in timber and huskier, but now it registered as alien in his mind. Still, the sound of a voice filled a gap in his soul he thought lost long ago.
It had been two weeks since workers rose up from the oppression of their masters and took control of power generation and environmental controls. Marc had not been surprised by this move, nor the response of those whose wealth paid for this station and the seats on rockets for those clamouring for rights.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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