Kel

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Killing probably should have been harder.

Kel thought it would be. When imagining her first battle growing up, she had assumed that, despite all of her training, she would still have some remorse after the act. Some pang of regret over taking her first life. Or even her first dozen.

But that was not her experience.

Not in the slightest.

Granted, the emotional aspect of the slaughter was likely muted by the horrors her captors had put her through. Perhaps, under different circumstances, the corpses left in her wake would have weighed far heavier on her conscience.

But, as it stood, she was not feeling charitable enough to leave survivors.

Ever-watchful for signs of confrontation, Kel spared a moment to glance out a window that contained the same bleak scene as all the others embedded in the facility’s gray walls.

Stars.

In an unknown configuration.

And tufts of nebulous particulate.

If she was not aboard a ship, then it was likely some kind of space station. One that could tell her much about her former tormentors, if she could crack its security systems.

Once she knew with certainty that she was alone, she would have to locate the control room.

And real weapons. Perhaps her own, confiscated equipment and armor, if she were fortunate.

And, if she were truly blessed, she might find her missing companions somewhere in this —

Kel stumbled, and her scarlet-coated hand left a sticky smear as it found purchase on the window’s glass. The blood wasn’t hers. Not this time. Though she couldn’t be certain whether any of the wounds barely hidden under her surgical gown had reopened during her little skirmish.

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Adrenaline still coursed through her system, however the drugs that had weakened her for so many days were potent. She couldn’t yet trust herself to rest, no matter how her head swam.

Perhaps hunger also played a role in her current state. She could not remember the last time she had been given anything to eat. They must have given her some nutrients, intravenously if nothing else, or she could not possibly have survived their tortures for this long. But it had done nothing for the ache in her stomach.

No matter the cause, she could not linger in one place for long.

She was not going back on that operating table.

The soldier gritted her teeth, and kept moving.

The drugs would wear off.

Eventually.

Sooner rather than later, most likely. Her body was built to resist such impairments, after all.

Just keep searching. Snuff out any remaining resistance. Quickly.

If her memory was accurate, that task might already be complete.

She had only ever counted around a dozen normal Humans, at most, as they wheeled her, strapped to a gurney, between room after nightmarish room. And approximately that number had been in the operating room with her when she finally overcame the sedatives, broke her restraints, and slashed a scalpel deep and wide across the careless “doctor’s” throat.

She didn’t see him fall, but what little she knew about normal Human anatomy told her he wouldn’t survive the injury. Even a Phoenix would have struggled to recover in time.

He’d deserved it.

They all had.

Every last one of them.

She just hoped none had slipped away in the fray.

The foes she faced were far less adept at combat than those for which she had been trained. Very few weapons, even fewer that were actually designed to be used as such. She’d outmatched them, even as they rushed to pin her back down, after her first, lethal strike.

They simply weren’t strong enough. Not even close.

Had they even thought it possible, or were their efforts a sacrifice to allow others to flee?

Kel doubted any of them had ever had a thought that altruistic.

Those…people…who had tormented and degraded her might, in fact, have truly been the doctors, nurses and researchers their attire purported them to be. But that had not supplied them with mercy. Or kindness. Or the wisdom to push back against whatever orders had spurred them to their disgusting tasks.

They did not deserve pity.

Or remorse.

They barely even deserved the swiftness of the deaths Kel granted them.

Their leaders, wherever they hid, would not be anywhere near as fortunate.

And once Kel reunited with her people, the Embers of Prometheus would undoubtedly recognize this assault as the sign they had been waiting for.

The Coalition would not get away with this travesty.

No matter how large their armada. No matter how wide their influence. No matter what alien entities made up their disgusting ranks.

Kel just had to get back home.

Then the Embers would burn the Coalition to the ground.