Time seemed to slow down as adrenaline rushed into Miliam’s veins. Her heart pounded in her chest and a cold sweat came over her. It would be a lie to say that she had made a mistake to take the job. That she was simply too naïve to realize it could come to this. She wasn’t an idiot.

The fact of the matter was that staying in this system much longer was probably lethal for most of her crew, and leaving without a replacement component for the reactor made the trip back much more dangerous. There was only one course of action available that would guarantee the greatest chances of survival for both Miliam herself and her crew in general: blow that ship out of the void.

But that meant weighing the lives of the miners against those of her own people and deciding who lives and who dies. Realistically speaking, those miners were dead either way. The True Edenite Navy was going to hunt them down eventually. However…that didn’t mean her conscience would be clean were she to become their executioners personally.

It wasn’t like they were hardened criminals. Even the local government had shied away from outright calling them pirates. They were just people trying to make a living that had taken a stand against a despotic government trying to squeeze every last penny out of them. How many people were even on that ship? Miliam hadn’t asked. Deep down, she knew that was because she didn’t want to know.

“Aoibhe…give me your honest opinion here. What happens if we fail to stop that ship?” Miliam asked quietly. Amidst the silence currently reigning on the bridge her voice was projected clearly to every corner of the room.

“…it’s hard to say. I can’t imagine Captain Brown would be happy, and he’ll be in firing range of us by the time we know his opinion on it. We might be able to hop back to True Eden and ask the Cardinal-Admiral for forgiveness, but I doubt anyone here cares more about our lives than they did these miners,” Aoibhe replied slowly, giving Miliam a sympathetic look.

“It could go either way, is what you’re saying. I guess the real question is…can we honestly justify killing those people not to save our own lives, but just to increase our own safety? We can’t replace the turrets we’ve already lost without completing Abigail’s job, and we’ll bleed even more of them along the way if we don’t kill these people. My responsibility is to this crew, though. Am I really doing my job if I don’t maximize our chances?” Miliam monologued, staring a hole in the floor. Her hands tightened into fists, fingernails digging into her palms.

“Captain…” muttered one of the twins. Miliam didn’t catch which one it was.

“…we won’t think less of you no matter what you choose,” finished the other.

“Aye. Outlaws are rare, but we all know we’ve only got ourselves to rely on past the borders of any nation. Everyone on this crew became a spacer knowing there was a chance, even if it’s a small one, that they’d have to kill someday to survive,” Aoibhe added, subtly providing her opinion on what they should do here.

“They’re just thieves. Does that really warrant the death penalty?” Miliam wondered.

“I don’t know. In the Gaian Collective it wouldn’t be enough. But here? Clearly their own government thinks otherwise. We’re not playing judge or jury, only executioner,” said the fay, but Miliam didn’t think that absolved them of anything.

Making the call to fire would be…unforgivably selfish, in Miliam’s opinion. If it were only her life on the line, she might not be able to make that call, no matter how much she feared death. It was the six other souls on board that made her consider it. Did she have the right to balk at getting her hands dirty when their lives were at risk as well? It was far from a sure thing that they’d need their point defense lasers, but even so…if they ever did need them, then it would be too late for regrets by the time she knew.

The clock was running out. Miliam swallowed, noticing her throat had become painfully dry. She looked at her plot. Soon the warning shot they’d fired would detonate. When that happened there would be two or three minutes left before the other ship passed the Astrum Vitae. If she hadn’t made a decision by the last thirty seconds it would be too late.

“I can give the order,” Aoibhe volunteered. Miliam looked up to find Aoibhe staring her down, eyes fully of resolve. Clearly Aoibhe had already determined which choice she would make.

“No…that would just be shirking my responsibilities. If we’re doing it…I have to do it myself,” Miliam denied grimly. Still, Aoibhe’s clear determination to pull the trigger stiffened Miliam’s own backbone somewhat. Maybe it was peer-pressure, but it was good to know she wasn’t the only one leaning in that direction.

Briefly Miliam considered putting it to a vote, but that was just another way of dodging accountability.

As the moment approached and their warning shot failed to sway the other captain, Miliam’s breath quickened. She decided to give one final warning.

“Astrum Vitae to rogue mining vessel, this is your last chance to stop. Our next volley won’t miss,” she said grimly into the comm. But even once sensors showed that the ship would have received that message, it didn’t appear to slow. Bit by bit the counter ran down and it became clear they had either not been able to hear what she’d said or they had decided to take the risk. All feeling fled Miliam’s body as she made the call. “Fi-”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Tessa, fire now. Let the blood be on my hands,” Aoibhe ordered, cutting Miliam off with a voice that would make a drill sergeant proud, clearly intended to drown out whatever Miliam said.

“Uh, captain, ma’am?” Tessa asked in confusion.

“Aoibhe! What are you-” Miliam began again. Had she a moment longer to think she would have just repeated the order and taken responsibility, but shock held her back one moment too long.

“I volunteered to give the command in her stead. Fire!” Aoibhe barked, cutting Miliam off. The statement wasn’t technically a lie; she only neglected the fact that Miliam had refused to allow it.

“Yes’m!” Tessa replied. Four more icons appeared on screen representing the last four missiles. Miliam watched with dread as they darted away from the ship and then adjusted course for the approaching mining vessel. It was less than thirty seconds away now, so she didn’t have to wait long before all four flashed and disappeared, indicating they’d found their target.

“Target…destroyed,” Min-ji announced darkly. That was it, then. The deed was done.

“…I’m sorry. I know you would have done it, I just…didn’t want you to have to,” Aoibhe apologized, eyes fixed forward. Miliam felt a mix of betrayal and indignation. She felt like she’d been treated like a child who needed to be protected from the consequences of her actions. She felt a lot of things. But right now…

“We’ll talk about it later. Take us to meet up with Captain Brown’s squadron,” she ordered in a dull voice. Brown had crossed a large portion of the distance between True Eden and the gas giant by now, so between his ships and the Astrum Vitae’s more advanced wave drive, it took only a few minutes to make the rendezvous. They were quite literally on top of the approaching ships before they could even detect the Astrum Vitae had left its original position, and that was without revealing their top speed. It was only the fact that they needed to slow down before reaching the other ships that allowed them to see the Astrum Vitae coming.

“You’d better have a good reason for leaving your assigned position, mercenary,” the nominally friendly captain opened with the moment communications were established. Miliam forced herself up out of her seat and into a curtsy. As much as she was emotionally exhausted right now, it was still her job to maintain their cover. She’d be damned if she allowed herself to get caught now after the murders she’d just committed- as much as Aoibhe wanted to claim credit, it was still Miliam that had placed them there in the first place.

“We’ve completed our assignment. The mining vessel ignored all warnings and continued on even after we fired a warning shot. We…no. I used force to stop them from escaping. The ship was destroyed,” she reported in a voice lacking all inflection. With her head bowed she couldn’t see Brown’s face, but she detected a faint sense of satisfaction in his reply.

“Hmph. So you managed to complete the task assigned. A pleasant surprise. Very well; as promised, I will order the part you requested delivered to your ship when we return to True Eden. Return ahead of us; we will verify your claim before turning back ourselves,” Brown responded. There was one question Miliam couldn’t help but ask, though, first.

“I have…one question, before we go. Those miners…did they ignore my warnings, or were they unable to hear them to begin with?” she asked, the implication left ambiguous enough that it would be meaningless if she were wrong but clear otherwise. There was a noticeable pause before Brown answered, but Miliam couldn’t tell if that was due to shock or confusion.

“I suppose we’ll never know, will we?” the Isaiaite replied opaquely before ending the call. Miliam fell into her chair and ran a hand over her face.

“Get us back to True Eden.”

Wordlessly, Aoibhe complied, apparent only due to the ship’s movement. The atmosphere on the bridge was quiet during the return trip, although for very different reasons than it had been earlier. One the way, Miliam wondered what she would say to Aoibhe when they did talk. It wasn’t that she blamed Aoibhe for what happened; that was squarely upon her own shoulders. And…she would do it again if she had to.

Because unlike the image Aoibhe apparently held of her, Miliam was a fully grown adult capable of making her own decisions. When she’d made the call to retain ownership of the Astrum Vitae, she hadn’t exactly had this scenario in mind, but she’d made it her business to accept the mantle of responsibility she’d placed upon herself during the trip to Delta Boötis. Now she’d learned that fulfilling the role of leader might sometimes mean she had to make choices that cost people their lives. But she couldn’t shy away from that fact because doing so meant preserving the lives of those that depended on her.

“We’re there,” Aoibhe announced eventually, causing Miliam to look up and catch sight of True Eden beyond the bridge viewport.

“Eun-ji, we’ll start watch with you this time. Let me know immediately if we get any communications. Everyone else is dismissed,” Miliam said, remembering to speak over the comms as well so that Tessa and Engineer would be in the loop. Aoibhe jumped out of her seat and took a few steps closer before Miliam was even finished standing.

“Are you okay?” the fay asked, words laced with concern.

“No. But I need time to put my mind in order. And…decide whether I’ll be looking for a new pilot when we return to port,” Miliam replied through hooded eyes. Aoibhe flinched as if struck, betrayal and hurt on her face, but Miliam didn’t give it much consideration. After all, that’s what she was feeling as well.

“I…see. Whatever you decide, it was an honor serving with you,” Aoibhe replied sadly, backing away.

“Yeah,” was all Miliam said as she left the bridge and went directly up the stairs to her quarters. She wasn’t simply being spiteful when she said those words to Aoibhe; she genuinely needed to make a judgment about Aoibhe’s position on the ship. In her capacity as executive officer, Aoibhe had chosen to overstep her authority and issue an order in Miliam’s place due to a lack of belief in her emotional ability to handle the load of her job.

That was a breach of trust that might have irreparably damaged their working relationship…and even if not, it had created a wound that would take time to heal.