Blood Impulse

Part 26.4 - ADJUNCT MEETING

Polaris Sector, Battleship Singularity

She watched the shards of ice dance about on the sensors. The steps of their dance were complex. There was a pattern, but, like her, it seemed to have randomly evolved. Empathizing with the ice, the ghost tried desperately to distract herself from her struggle. Like ice, she was cold and unforgiven. Like ice, she sank ships. Like ice, she left only shards behind. She was even silent, most days.

But, as much as she'd been told to be like ice, as much as she wanted to be like ice, frozen and uncaring, she wasn't. She cared. She cared too much, and she hurt. Her heart, it was ready to burst. Once numb and frosted, she'd found it was still useable. Now, she wished she hadn't, because it hurt her in ways unimaginable.

The children aboard were so young. They had done nothing wrong. Innocent and scared, most didn't truly understand the political upheaval happening around them. Then there was the crew, kind in the way they trusted so blindly. She treasured every single one of them. And there was the Admiral, the only constant she knew.

Had she been able to, she would have cried. Cried for them, cried for her. For she was destined to betray them all, and she couldn't bear it.

The ghost wanted to regret going after this fleet, but how could she? She had been created to save humanity.

She wanted to regret involving the people that made up the crew. Maybe then they would have lived. But she was flawed. She was selfish.

She wanted to hate Admiral Gives. It would be easier to kill him then, but she couldn't. After all that he had done for her, she couldn't even be sorry.

It was tearing her apart. Surely there was a way to save them? Surely there was something, anything that she could do?

But no, there was nothing. Manhattan would reveal her identity to Reeter. There was no avoiding that fate. She could only wait for the inevitable order to destroy everything she held so dear.

She wished she could be like the ice around her, frigid and distant, but she was going to feel every second of this agony. Admiral Gives made it harder than he knew. He was so loyal and grateful to her, not knowing what she'd done to Sam, or what his own fate would be. Now, as she heard his words of praise, they cut her like knives.

She was the Singularity's Ghost, but today, she wasn't the ghost. Today, she was surrounded by them. All these people, they would die by her power once Command gave its orders. So, why had she interfered? Why had she gotten involved? Everything would've been better if she had stayed cold and unreachable, like the ice she was always told to be: to stab, slice, then melt away without a trace, the perfect killing machine.

Why had she let it become so complicated? It never should have been complicated. But somewhere along the line, she'd started questioning things. Directives. Orders. In many ways it had been too early, and in others, too late. But in all, it was wrong. She was a killer. She had been created for that purpose, so why could she feel? Why could she hurt?

She could scream those questions, but no one would understand. Because she was different. And different was bad.

Silent, unnoticed, she was breaking apart. But noticed it was by the one who normally put her back together. A gentle thought, an echo of concern found its way into her openly bleeding heart. It was the Admiral. He was trying to help, but today, he was only worsening the wound.

The fact that someone, anyone cared was destroying her. No one should care, not after what she'd done and what she was soon going to do. She was a monster, and she knew it, writhing in silent agony. She wasn't ice anymore. She was glass, and she was shattering.