Does profit still numb the feeling?
Alad V sat on the bench in his cell, his deactivated robotic pet lying on the floor, as if resting. He had failed. Those filthy dogs had challenged him, and, to make matters worse, they WON! He had everything ready to extract the Tenno in the cryopods, and if those lazy bastards at the Artifact Recovery Dpt. didn't delay the extraction so much time, the Company could now be the top power in the system! They were the ones to blame, not him! Certainly not him, who had devoted all his life to the Company! The dogs, they now grew more powerful, that flea-ridden Sargas Ruk test tube underling, grew more powerful! And why? Because, of course, of the eyeless slag, that Lotus bitch, who threw her little murderous psychopaths at the conflict. In the end, the betrayers were the ones who profited from this war. The dogs had secured their position on Mars, but at the cost of millions of their worthless lives. The Company had managed to withdraw from the conflict before total annihilation, but annihilation was all but far away at this point.
After the catastrophic defeat at Mars, the Board had sent an order to imprison and kill Alad. They had grown tired of funding his disastrous campaign, and sought a scapegoat to their own failure to realize this war had been lost since the beginning, as transmitions intercepted from the betrayers had clearly shown that their Company would get little to no support. It didn't help that Alad was constantly insulting them, in an attempt to sway them to his side with empty threats and silver tongued, but vain offers.
So, there sat Alad, at his cramped cell, with a view of Neptune filling its window. A dark-blue suited crewman, accompanied by two fusion MOAs and a shield osprey opened the cell's door.
The crewman opened his helmet, so as to speak clearly, and uttered "It's time. Move.".
Alad got up, and followed the crewman, his pet staying in the cell, later to be scrapped, certainly. The two fusion MOAs had their guns constantly trained on him during the walk to the execution chambers. Funny how something which development had been overseen by him would now be threatening him.
They arrived at the chamber. Death by disintegration. A slow disintegration, at that. Alad gulped. He was never one to fear many things, but even he feared his inevitable, upcoming demise.
The crewman shoved him inside the room, and closed the reinforced door. Alad looked around the room, savoring the last moments of his life. The walls on his sides opened, revealing disintegrator platforms. After some seconds of powering up, they fired.
And Alad…he was in hell for some minutes. As his body disintegrated, he felt unimaginable pain, and he couldn't feel any emotion. He couldn't feel rage at the dogs, or at the damn Recovery Dpt.'s fat cats. He couldn't feel sadness, or frustration, at what his life had amounted to. He couldn't feel fear. He couldn't feel anything. Just pure, immense pain.
And, when almost all of his body had disintegrated, he felt even more pain, as the disintegrator rays reached the area near his brain.
This was the death of Alad V, Grineer Relations head of department. It was a slow, painful one. And, I assure you, this time, profit did not numb the feeling.