Luka took in a breath of smoke as soon as the cig was lit. In some cases, the taste of ash was preferable to the antiseptic tones that were forced on them in Ceres. Like drinking a small serving of blended scotch, as cheap as they could bottle. Lifting his hand to his brow, he scratched his forehead with an expression that stood between a smile and a chuckle. “Maybe revenge…maybe I'm fixing my mistake.” He took another draw, exhaling from his nose. “I didn't work with Benton. I trained him. For enforcement and wet work.” Luka had numerous talents. And that included intimidation and disposal. But Benton had lost his way just around the time that Luka was finding his. And in that process, Benton had lost what it meant to be a friend or a brother.