Admiral Greir

Admiral Greir opened his aged eyes and looked out of the window of his retirement community apartment. The sun was shining outside; little happy birds were chirping. Even the clouds were whiter and puffier than usual.

He couldn't stand it.

"Computer, turn off that stupid thing," he ordered. The window buzzed and the false image disappeared, and was replaced with gray skies filled with angry commuters, tall lifeless apartment towers, and flickering holographic billboards.

Admiral Greir sat up and ran his wrinkly fingers through his white hair. His room was cold and sterile, filled with beeping machines that monitored, hissing machines that scrubbed the air, and chirping machines that did other things he didn't bother to learn about. It was a horrible noise to wake up to. The only decoration at all in the room was a small cupboard with his dress cap, a small case displaying his medals, and a single family photo showing a much, much younger version of himself holding a little girl with white hair in a beautiful white sundress and matching white sunhat.

Between the bed, the shelf, and the medical devices, there was barely enough room to scoot around the edge of the bed. This was his reward for a lifetime of military service.

The door broke inward and nurse Dinot fell hard to the ground, crying in fear. A tall imposing figure walked in, fully armored, carrying a long-barreled pistol. The pupils of her black eyes glowed with a golden fire, her blue skin still looking young and vibrant, even after all these years.

He recognized her instantly.

"Lyssandra Bal," he snarled.

Behind her he could make out a dozen more pirates knocking out the guards in the corridor. One guard broke free and aimed his rifle at her from behind.

Quicker than thought, she spun around, sweeping his leg out from underneath him. She threw out a device that exploded in the air, encasing the man in ice crystals.

An automated turret formed down out of the ceiling. Its barrel whirred to life, but she threw a small disk that sliced through its ammo feed, and it spun fecklessly at her.

"It's been a long time, Admiral," she said smugly as she strode up to his bed. The machines monitoring his heart beeped wildly, but his face remained passive and unflappable.

"Yes, last time I saw you was the battle of Embers," he said. "When we sent your ArchTyrant back to hell."

She reached over and tipped up the cap sitting on his shelf. "Do you know what your sin is, Admiral?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

Her eyes flashed brighter. "Then listen. Your sin is murder. Tell me, how many people have you murdered in your long and illustrious career, Admiral?"

He straightened himself up as best he could in his bed. "Zero."

"WRONG!" she screamed, suddenly enraged, and then grew quiet again. "...dead wrong."

"I was an officer following orders. I did my duty. Killing an enemy at a time of war is not murder."

She pointed her pistol at nurse Dinot simpering in the corner. "So, if I were to shoot her, that would be murder, but if you shot her on the field of battle, it wouldn't be?"

"You know that is the way it works."

She threw her head back. "Ha! What a meaningless distinction. A person is dead, the result is the same. What does it matter the reason?"

"I don't want anyone to shoot me," Nurse Dinot simpered.

Lyssandra stepped in close, placing the barrel of her pistol underneath Greir's chin. "You really think that little piece of paper from your superiors that orders you to kill makes you so different from me? We have both killed countless people."

He met her fierce gaze without looking away.

"Do you really think that your hands are clean?" she asked.

"You know I do."

She snarled and withdrew her pistol. "Unfortunately, the universe agrees with you. No one is punished for killing children so long as they have a little piece of paper that says it is okay first. It's like this neat little pass that exempts you from kharma. That's why everything is so frakked up. The laws of existence don't make any sense."

"If you had come to kill me you would have done it already," he spat fearlessly. "Take what you want and leave, stop wasting my time with this claptrap."

She smiled and stepped forward. "Ohh," she cooed. Daintily, she ran the back of her finger along his jawline. "So you really think you still have time to waste? You're nothing but a worthless old relic." It distracted him so much that he barely noticed her slipping the ring off of his finger with her other hand.

He looked down. "My ring?"

She nodded. "I am a pirate, am I not?"

"General, we just got word from their operative," came a voice in her comm-link. We can attack in three days."

She turned to the others. "Let's move," she ordered. They stripped everything of value as they left, leaving the room practically bare.

As the last of them ran out, nurse Dinot ran over and clung to him, crying into his shoulder.

Admiral Greir looked down at the fallen picture frame, crumpled from being stepped on. He balled his fist and roared, slamming his hand into the wall, cracking the material.