A Question of Purpose © Cheryl Angst
Commander Jack Burns questioned his twenty-five years of loyal military service as he approached the holding cells. Running a hand over his close-cropped hair, he told himself she was just another prisoner; no one special. He knew it was futile to harbour any sentimental feelings about her or their situation, but when he saw her sitting on the cot in the cell, he wondered if he possessed the courage to defy an empire.
“It's time,” he said.
“I know.”
He keyed in the command to lower the forcefield and was amazed to note his hands were steady as he placed the restraints on her wrists. A slight trembling in her fingers was his only indication of the intense emotions she too was suppressing.
They walked in silence down the windowless corridor. He tried to keep his gaze forward but he couldn't help darting glances at her. Despite the harsh glare of the overhead lighting that cast a green tint over everything, he still marvelled at her beauty. Her short auburn hair stood in stark contrast to her pale skin and indigo eyes. The navy blue prison jumpsuit did little to obscure the lines and curves of her body.
“I have no choice,” he whispered.
A small, sardonic smile flickered across her lips. “I know.”
Jack was in awe of her poise. She knew she was walking toward certain doom, whether imprisonment, slavery, or execution; her life of freedom was over and she approached the moment with a calm reserve he found startling.
Everything about her took him by surprise; even their first meeting caught him unawares. His team landed their hovercraft on the outskirts of an abandoned town. A town reported to be the base camp for the Sigma IV resistance. Cautiously approaching the main street from three directions, they hoped to flush the fugitives out of hiding and into the central square.
Carefully searching each building and alleyway, the Imperial troops covered the city with a precision born of years of experience. Jack's team approached the rear entrance of an abandoned store and prepared to enter. Without warning, the door exploded outwards, throwing his entire team to the ground, injuring several and killing the trooper closest to the door.
He shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears. The lapse in attention nearly cost him his life. A dozen figures appeared in the smoke and chaos surrounding him. Coughing and squinting, he barely dodged the blow aimed at his skull.
His quick reflexes redirected the attack and allowed him to tackle the figure closest to him. He was shocked to discover his attacker was Katherine Jameson, the leader of the resistance movement on Sigma IV.
She fought like a hell-cat. It had taken him three weeks to bring her from Sigma IV to the Empire's headquarters in the Epsilon Sector, and during that time his feelings toward her had taken a remarkable turn.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“I know.”
Spitting curses at him and his crew, Katherine had repeatedly tried to escape. When those efforts proved pointless, she tried to take her own life. Knowing his career was over if he failed to bring the leader of the resistance back alive, he was forced to station a guard with her at all times. It was on his second duty shift in her cell that his opinion of her began to change.
He tried to engage her in conversation, hoping to pass the time in something other than awkward silence. When she refused to answer, he began to talk – about himself, his career, his fellow officers, his family – anything to avoid having to sit and stare at her while she pointedly ignored him.
It was after he talked about his family that she finally spoke.
“Mine are all dead.”
“Excuse me?”
She looked him in the eye. “Dead. I watched them die.”
“I—”
“Your people killed them. I was thirteen when the Empire claimed Sigma IV. The soldiers arrived at night, dragged us into the streets, separated the children from the adults, and began shooting.
“I watched them laugh as they murdered my parents. Once the shooting stopped, they moved in to search the bodies, taking everything of value. Then, they set the town on fire.”
“How—?”
“How did I survive?”
He nodded.
“I escaped.” He watched as deep pain and bitterness crossed her face. “I learned very quickly how to hide, and then as the years passed, I learned I could use my body to get what I needed to survive.”
He shuddered at the thought that the Empire, his beloved Empire, had forced her into such a miserable existence. Suddenly his orders to bring in the ‘despicable rebel leader' didn't seem so clear-cut and simple. He found himself viewing the Empire from her perspective, and he didn't like what he saw.
The walk from the holding cells was taking forever, but forever wasn't long enough. He had no plan. He didn't know if he could go through with it, even if he did. What kind of life could they have together, fleeing from the Empire and in constant fear of arrest or execution? He longed to take her away, and his heart broke with the impossibility of such an action.
“I can't fix this,” he whispered.
The doors to the Admiral's chambers were rapidly growing closer.
“I know.”
Jack watched as she absently brought her hands up to run her finger behind her left ear. Even with the restraints, she still exhibited the only nervous gesture Jack ever noticed in their time together. Not a single day had gone by where he hadn't caught her rubbing the area behind her ear lobe at least once. He asked her about the gesture, fascinated by the pensive expression on her face. She'd quickly, almost guiltily, pulled her hand away and told him she'd been thinking about her impending meeting with the Admiral.
She winced in pain and he briefly wondered if the restraints were too tight, but then she relaxed, and he dismissed the thought.
He needed this walk to last forever. He needed to remember every detail. He wanted more than just memories of their time aboard the transport vessel. He couldn't believe a love that felt so right could grow in a situation that was so wrong. He questioned his ability to hand her over to the Admiral and walk away. How could he live without her?
He sighed. Had Katherine not been so adept at disrupting the occupation of Sigma IV, she never would have attracted the attention of his commanding officer. Sigma IV was insignificant, but there was no way the Admiral could stand for some backwater rebellion tarnishing his unblemished reputation as a military genius. She needed to be captured to demoralize the resistance, and to send a message to anyone else thinking about challenging the Empire.
The doors were right in front of them now. He had scant seconds left with the woman he loved before she disappeared from his life forever.
“I have to do this,” he whispered.
She replied, “I know.”
On this mission, the price for loyalty to the Empire was his soul, and he didn't know if he could pay it. Entering, Jack saw the Admiral rise from behind his desk and approach the couple. The Admiral's every move carried an almost palpable aura of command. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and he was a man who was never denied.
“So what do we have here?” he said, running a calculating gaze over the prisoner's every curve.
Jack grimaced as he replied, “Katherine Jameson, Leader of the Sigma IV resistance, as ordered, sir.”
Jack steeled himself to act. How could he leave her? He knew the Admiral would not be kind. Yet, how could he justify betraying the man he'd worked for, worshipped, for over two decades?
“Excellent,” the Admiral replied, his eyes never leaving the prisoner. “Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.” He turned reflexively, the moment for action lost in his miasma of indecision.
“Oh, and Commander?”
“Sir?” Jack asked as he reluctantly turned to look at the pair. He couldn't believe he was going to walk away. He was no hero.
“Good work.”
“Thank you, sir” He almost choked on the words. He took a steadying breath and closed his eyes, but not before he saw the Admiral run a possessive finger down Katherine's cheek and along her jaw. Jack willed himself not to think about what the future held for her.
“I hate you,” she hissed.
He could hear the satisfied smile in the Admiral's voice as he replied, “I know.”
Knowing he would curse himself forever, Jack turned for one last glance before opening the doors. His body went rigid. His mind made connections he hadn't noticed before: her hands, her lips, her ear. Plan or not, he would deal with the consequences of his actions later. All he knew was he had to act – now.
“Admiral!” he shouted. “No!” Jack sprinted across the marble floor. He reached Katherine the instant before she could brush the Admiral's hand away.
Tackling her to the ground, she screamed, “No! Damn you!” She began to sob. “It should have been him! It was meant for him!”
In her attempt to protect herself from his attack, she instinctively raised her manacled hands to block him. Her fingers were now pressed against the exposed flesh above his uniform collar. A chill suffused his body as he stared at her in mute horror.
He could see her lips turning blue from the cyanosis caused by the poison on her fingers. Fast-acting, and with no known antidote, cerebarolium easily crossed the dermis and entered the bloodstream. In a matter of minutes they would both be dead.
He berated himself for allowing an assassin to get so close to the Admiral. Guilt threatened to drive him mad as his own thoughts of betrayal resurfaced to mock him. An imposter dying a hero's death, he whispered to everyone and no one, “I'm sorry.”
He lay atop her and watched helplessly as the light left her eyes. He loved her; loved her to the point of blindness. Only now that his vision was fading did he truly see the woman Katherine Jameson had always been. She'd forced him to question his mission, his service, his entire life, yet she never wavered from hers. Her goal had been to stop the Empire's occupation of Sigma IV, and with one tiny subcutaneous poison capsule she nearly succeeded.
Jack rolled over and met the Admiral's gaze. He needed to explain everything to this man; a man who was a father, mentor, and hero to him, but his lips were too numb. He searched the Admiral's face for some sign of understanding, of forgiveness or absolution, but all he saw was disgust bordering on contempt.
The Admiral turned his back on Jack and walked beyond his limited field of vision. Jack listened to the bootfalls recede, and when they paused he heard the Admiral quietly speak, “You failed me.”
Closing his eyes, Jack's last thought before the darkness of oblivion claimed his soul was, I know.
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