The red glow of the console burned into her eyes, the pain of it lancing to her heart. The bombing run against the dreadnaught might not have failed, but that didn't mean it succeeded. She slowed her breaths against the stabbing sensation threating to freeze her lungs. A red blink, and a breath came in. A dull fading of light, and her breath came out. Another blink, and another breath. She exhaled sharply, shutting her eyes against a light that went on in her mind, forcing her breathing to stop matching the repeated signal playing out before her. Death. Too many deaths, as if there was such a thing as too few.
Life had taught her to hold her grief for a later time. It had to be done, otherwise more lives would be lost, and more people would suffer. There were always too many other things that had to faced. There was always a new threat, and a new problem to solve, and a next person to save, and more people to lose. She couldn't stop, because if she did... Just because it had to be done didn't mean it was right. Those people deserved to be mourned. But, when? She wondered what it would be like to once be allowed to cry.
So many sorrows. She would find the time, on her deathbed if she had to. She rose to face her duty, and the mistakes made, and the work that had to be done, her eyes still full of the red glow of people she never had time to mourn.