[Ref.  Lady Commandant Miriam "Marm" Killian]

I remember quite vividly, the day I lost my arm.  It was, what, 30 years ago now?  I had been a newly minted lieutenant, part of the Ship's Self Defense Force during the Hellfreek Ring War, when the eye yawned vast and split the sky, and the ring mining complexes orbiting the ancient paradise world Arx Draconis came alive with demons.  It was then that the Night Screamers and the Void Crows and the Blood Dogs came to Malexis.

It was a shadow cast by firelight and a dog's snapping jowls and the streak of a blade against a blood red sunset.  We had come upon them in the labyrinthine warrens deep within Asteroid Ice Mine Complex Alpha-Viii.s.  We had been dispatched to root out heresy among the ring dwellers, as part of a peace-keeping mission in what is now Rivenblight.  I had only a vague impression of a man exploding, the first syllable of agony-just the one-ripped out of his lungs at the furious top of his agonizing discovery, the wretched epiphany of all traitors.  Then the pummeling blast of gore and outrageous brutal shock as I was showered with the traitor's remains.

Then, I was on my back, with visions of hell blades spearing through my lower abdomen and taking my right arm.  If I hadn't been turning to see the cause of his belabored breathing, I'm sure I would have died.  The Enginseers fashioned me a modular prosthetic, following the battle.  So, now I carry a light machine gun with me into battle and keep a collection of archeotech augmetics in my stateroom.