This is a reflection of Bastille Day. A very dark story with a Darker ending. This will not lighten things. But maybe put an new light on things. UNBETAD. Enjoy it any how.
Spoiler below.
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Reflection
By Cyndi "Wingnut" Smith
I sit on my bunk in the dark.
My dress uniform shed and side arm pressed tightly in my hand. Memories rolling around in my brain as if it were a bullet from his cold hunk of metal I have pressed to my head.
I should have shot him.
He had proven himself a traitor.
He is a traitor to his people.
He is a traitor to the belief that he was a man who truly only wanted what was right for his people.
I should have shot him.
I remember the sounds of Cally's whimpers.
She was trapped in a cage with a mad man who had hurt her.
I confronted him but he wouldn't open the cage. He couldn't without betraying his people.
This was my fault, He said as much. I reaped what I have sewn.
He wasn't wrong.
I should have shot him.
I recall calling for a medic as I held my hand over Cally's wound and she held tight to me. I lifted her enough to lay her against my chest and continued to hold tight with the warmth of her young life oozing up through my fingers. Her tears penetrate my shirt and burn right into my soul. She did nothing to deserve this.
It was my fault.
I should have shot him.
Starbuck and some medtech try to holding me down, something about a concussion and broken ribs. Still, I have made my decision we are giving the prisoners the ship all other personnel, weapons and anything that can be used for weapons are removed from the ship. In return they will mine the water for us. That is my decision.
Starbuck is right; the Commander is going to flip out.
I should have shot him.
He's your son.
He's your advisor.
I guess he is both and neither.
He had proven himself a traitor
He is a traitor to his people.
He is a traitor to the belief that he was a man who truly only wanted what was right for his people.
I slipped the gun back in its holster. Open my locker and set it back on the shelf.
The reflection of my battered face in the mirror shows no clue to the broken soul inside The mirror shatters as I slam closed my locker and slide down it to the floor.
This is probably for the best, I can't face my reflection anymore because if I did… I would shoot him.