Things didn't get much worse after that. In fact, I daresay we got used to it; ever day we'd wake up and a body would be lying around somewhere.
It didn't matter if they were good or bad. There was always a body. Good or bad, it stirred tension. It reminded us that we were under attack, that we lived in a terrible downturn with stagflation through the roof and everyone was out to grab a piece of whatever they could.
Fairman was building a hold in our little colony, and it made us think... was he doing it somewhere else too? How many mines were getting hit?
... Oh, Lucario? ****, I don't know what really happened. I heard he decided to go out for a smoke. Poor bastard stayed out too long or something and froze to death.