Sirosa

Chapter 8

Mac'hla ran into her room, locking the door behind her.
    She muttered curses under her breath as she rummaged around, looking for something to take her mind off of what she had just uncovered.
    They paused in front of their mirror and stared at themself.
    Their hair was wild and disheveled, their face flushed green with anger. Even their eyes had changed, becoming hollow and empty.
    With a devastated sigh, they sat on the floor and held their head in their hands.
    Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and splattered onto her uniform leaving dark marks. Though she tried, she couldn't seem to get them to stop.
    So much pain was building up inside of them.
    They'd had the old wound of the memories torn open. They had been lied to. They had been betrayed.
But somehow, she knew the anger she felt wasn't at Jim and Leonard.
Sure, she was upset that they had kept it a secret. She deserved to know.
But she had to give them credit where credit was due; their actions were logical.
The anger that was bubbling inside of them was not at their dear friends. It was at the monster in the brig.
The man that had taken so much.
And what truly drove Mac'hla over the edge was how he didn't care in the slightest... he relished in the pain and destruction he had caused.
Mac'hla could be angry at anyone– and any choice would be just. All of Vulcan, for teaching that Netrekans are so dangerous that they should be eradicated. Kirk and McCoy, for lying to her. Even herself, for allowing herself to hurt so much.
But deep down inside them, they knew that there was only one deserving recipient for their rage.
Soltok.
She stared at her reflection, her face warped with anger and grief. Makeup running down her cheeks and eyes swollen.
And for a moment, they felt real. Like everything in their life had led up to this moment in front of the mirror, where they would finally see who they are and what they are meant to do.
Mac'hla had always chosen peace.
"Can you return life to what you kill?
Then be slow to take life."
One of the teachings of Surak.
But in Mac'hla's eyes, this phrase was a double edged sword. Soltok took so much life. Hundreds of Netrekans' blood stained his hands.
Soltok can never wash that blood from his hands. He can never return life to those he had killed.
Mac'hla had taken their time. They had been slow. But now, Soltok was within reach. After all of this time, moving forward inch by inch, Mac'hla finally knew what they had to do.
She had to kill Soltok.