A Girl of Death and Starlight

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Anyone with a grasp on basic physics or astronomy would be able to tell you that; but the cries of the innocent could defy even the stone law of science.

She couldn’t look away. Pride burned through her skin like a star. She’d caught them. They’d rebelled and now, by her justice, they’d face the consequences.

Burton wanted to look away, but she held her chin high. She couldn't let anyone see her shame. Her choices led good people - rebels - to their deaths, and she would not hide from the consequences.

She watched, disdainful, as tears appeared in the eyes of the condemned. The cowards couldn’t even die like men.

The threatening tears dried instantly when a dignified man stepped into her view.

"This feels familiar."

Jules placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Your first catch. Well done.”

A smile played over her lips. There was no more valuable treasure than Jule’s praise.

Burton looked past him and focused on the knot of prisoners a few paces away.

“All we need now is a signature.” Jules offered her the pad. Without hesitation, she signed. The rebels’ demise was her final step towards the power she’d coveted for so long.

He dipped his head, forcing her to meet his evil yellow eyes. "You may not have signed the order this time, Burton, but this blood is on your hands - more than it is on mine."

The order was given. The airlock closed, sealing off the rebels from the gathered witnesses.

"Add mass murderer to my resume, Jules," Burton purred, magmatic rivulets of hate spiking her honeyed tone. "Why not kill me too and be rid of me?"

His eyes narrowed to scheming slits. "Compassion."

The heavy docking doors crawled open. The screams began. Burton pretended not to hear.

"It never was a good look for you,” she said.

"I’m feeling adventurous." Jules stepped away. He took the datapad from his assistant and coolly signed the death sentence. Returning the pad, he turned around and addressed the crowd amassed behind Burton.

Most of the witnesses were red-eyed families.

“My friends!” He threw his arms wide, as if to welcome each witness personally. “It is rare that we are allowed such a demonstration of the Ministry’s power; this is truly a day to celebrate!”

Over the roar of a thousand voices, a child screamed for her mother. At the sound of her voice, a prisoner’s brave face crumpled into sobs.

Why a husband and father could be so rash with his loyalties, and life, Burton could not understand.

Jules continued, “Twenty years ago, an uprising of much the same nature was quashed in this very port. Sadly, many of those insurgents’ descendants have chosen the same fate as their fathers. A solemn reminder to us all, beware the dangerous lies our children can be taught!”

A memory of her father rose unbidden to her mind. Burton shook it away. They’d both chosen their sides. It was useless to dwell on the past.

“So now I ask you, friends,” Jules placed a hand over his heart. “Think of our future. If we truly desire eternal peace aboard the ‘Equinox’, we must work together. There is no room for dissent among us.”

Jules looked properly distressed as the doors shut out the cold darkness and a massive pump restored pressure to the airlock. She admired how effortless he was in winning the favor of the people, shifting faces and weaving words into a tapestry of a caring man. He was a good face for the Ministry.

“These law breakers, these rebels,” Jules’ face hardened as he swept an arm to the men and women standing before him. “They will not succeed in tearing apart the Ministry’s work. Not today. Not EVER!” He ended in a yell that was taken up by the gathering, echoing off the cold metal of the ship.

The Ministry always needs a good face.

Jules raised his fist and the airlock closed, slicing the rebels off from their last chance of hope. The port doors opened and emptiness rushed in.

Someday, Burton, you will stand at my side.

Jules’ shadow loomed over her as she fell to her knees.