Explore "The Dead-Star Rover" by Robert Abernathy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Torcred stared long at the blackened wreck, hardly noting that the guns were silent, the haze settling. He knew none of the exhilaration that had been his when he took the panzer; a sickish sensation nested in his stomach. He had killed -- by subterfuge, true, but killed all the same -- a brother-terrapin, and now in his own mind rose up against him a lifetime's training, all the blood-ties with his own kind.
His own kind. The terrapins. But were they? _What was he? _