“Marco Inaros was a fucking abomination,” Avasarala snaps, and does not add, and a goddamn inevitable consequence, because there is only so much atonement for an entire planet’s history that one woman in mourning can be expected to do, in her eyes.
*
“He was a martyr for the Belt,” Filip says, a lone voice among bitter murmurs, “and look what he accomplished for us, yeah?” ignoring the twist in his gut that knows everything else his father was - obsessed, full of spite and rage, dangerous (loved).
*
Marco, in the depths of mysteries humanity has not yet comprehended, says nothing, knows nothing, thinks nothing, is nothing at all - merely one man, alone, unmade.