Kincade had been fuming ever since news of the Martenwol Massacre. Buster Harkness had been a sore sport for him long before that: they had been such good friends and then one day he just stopped talking to him. He would still be pleasant in his replies but he stopped messaging of his own accord and no longer wanted to hang out. The grizzly couldn't figure it out, had he said something wrong? Had Buster figured out that his friend was attracted to him and handled it poorly? It stuck with him, and over time those flutterings of infatuation turned to the dull thudding of resentment and disgust.

In the years that followed, he would remember those days as a turning point. When he got kicked out of pharmaceutical college and started the long and uninviting journey that lead to him becoming a Freelancer, that was what he looked back on the most fondly from his college days: afternoons in the cafe, having wonderful conversations with Mirabelle and Buster, nothing but potential ahead of them all.

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So when his communicator received Lance's message and he pieced together exactly how and why he received it, he didn't hesitate for a moment.

He was going to use this to destroy Buster. And what better way to really twist the knife than have it be held by the one person who had mattered most to him?