I'm Sorry

"You broke me, and now you expect me to follow you out onto the battlefield? No. The answer is no."I look around to my companion. 

"You don't have a choice."

I wish she did; she shouldn't have been dragged into this in the first place. This is on me. It's all on me. It always is. I was foolish; I have played so many people to get where I am without ever thinking of the consequences. I've hurt so many people, innocent people, who shouldn't have been brought into the hell that is my life. No time.

"We have to go. Like it or not your our best chance at survival." I'm surprised how steady my voice comes out. She isn't. She thinks I don't care; I do, so much it's painful. Focus. I need to keep it that way. It won't matter in a few hours anyway. Nothing will.

We have stopped walking now, and we stare at each other. She won't back down, and I can't afford to. If she refuses to help, then the risk level goes sky high. This has to go off without a hitch, if something goes wrong, we've blown our only chance at ending this. Why can't she understand that?I break eye contact first.

"You're being selfish, this isn't above your skillset, you're perfectly capable of a routine mission. You're refusing to do this out of spite. You are a soldier, remember that. I am a soldier, remember that. Don't bring personal feelings into war." She gives me the faintest of nods and walks to the armoury with her head held high and her back straight. Good. She has her priorities in order. Mabey, when I'm gone, someone will explain my motives. 

Once she has her gear, we walk to the gate, her team is waiting for her. She walks over to them without looking back at me.

It's over quickly, once we leave the safety of the walls. We get to the strike zone, and the team surrounds the perimeter. I walk into the pod, and the door locks behind me. She finally realises what is about to happen. That I'm not coming back from this. It's too late for her to stop this and she knows that. 

There is no frantic pounding on the door, no screaming, no crying. Only a slight sheen on her eyes. I should be thankful for the muted reaction, but somehow it hurts more than anything extreme ever could. Of all the people I've met, only she stood a chance of making me change my mind about this. That's why I had to end it. I couldn't let that happen. It was personal, just not the way she assumed.

The count down starts, and she turns away. As one, her regiment steps forward. Ready to fight, just like always. Some things will never change, we all play a part, the script is written for us, and it is not our place to edit it.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

I'm sorry.