Blood Impulse

Part 16.1 - STAY

Homebound Sector, Haven System, Battleship Singularity

Truth be told, Admiral Gives hated sleeping. It was a stupid, unpreventable waste of his time, and while he did so, he was defenseless. Sleep forced enemies on him in the form of nightmares, so waking in the earliest hours of morning in a cold sweat was familiar to him. He didn't bother trying to go back to sleep. He never managed. These days, roughly three hours of rest would have to do.

With a shiver, he slid his feet out from under the blankets and planted them on the cold metal deck. He steadied himself by listening to the soft hum of the ship's engines: a constant noise. Still, he stared at his hands. One of them was burned and scarred now, bandaged, but the feel of the nightmare was still there.

The texture of skin lingered on his fingertips, and the warmth of body heat lingered in his palms. His hands even ached with the tension he'd used to choke the life out of that little girl's throat.

A wave of nausea rose up as he remembered her corpse. Stars, he could still hear her mewling cries. He could still see the light fading from her big brown eyes. She couldn't have been any more than ten.

He buried his face in his murderous hands. I am a monster. He had killed children, innocents. Even if his desperate play for peace worked out, he did not deserve to determine what was right and wrong in these worlds. I do not deserve to live.

"Admiral?"

He looked over to find the ghost poking her head shyly around the corner. Predictable. She always showed up when his thoughts turned in that direction. He grabbed the socks from his shoes where he left them beside the bed. "Morning," he greeted her, "What can I do for you?"

She blinked, always thrown off by that question. "I..." she lowered her gaze, "I..."

The concern in her eyes always gave her away. "I'm fine," he said, standing up. "It was just a nightmare." She would have sensed his distress through the bond they shared. "I'm grateful for the company." This might be the last morning he spent here. He didn't want to spend it alone.

A fleck of light returned to her expression as she followed him to his desk, but she knew the toll those nightmares took on him. "New Terra?"

"Yes." He flicked on the lamp and started digging through the papers that crowded his wooden desktop. "Anabelle just brought back some old memories, that's all." He hadn't seen a child that young up close since then.

Today, the battle in orbit didn't trouble him, but rather the time he had spent on the surface of the colony, where he had been held prisoner. "That wasn't your fault." But it was her fault those memories had resurfaced.

"I know." But a child was dead, strangled by his hands. Fault had nothing to do with it. "You know how it is."

The ghost nodded solemnly, trying not to remember all the people she had been forced to massacre with her power slaved to Command.

He began to read through a report. Waking up early like this was his chance to catch up on the paperwork he'd missed the week prior. "I assume General Clarke died last night."

"He did." The ghost confirmed idly. That had been an easy prediction. "Likely, a blood thinner was used in his assassination." It had looked to be a natural death in his sleep, a clever but obvious murder. His death cleared her thoughts somewhat. His intentions and orders no longer ate through her mind like ringworms.

"Then I will leave today. Is there any maintenance I should check on before I go?" He would ensure the maintenance teams were treating his ship properly before he went anywhere.