Wednesday has come around again, and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.
The sky danced with a thousand fires burning a myriad of fuels as the Drindel ships burned. The spectacle dazzled, and Nico heard the soft gasps as they waited. Into the silence a system chimed.
“They’re gone,” Irving said straightening from the sensors. “All of them.”
The silence broke. All about Nico, the crew cheered, but he closed his eyes slumping. The attack had worked. His plan. His failure.
Opening his eyes, he walked toward the lift. Pausing, he pressed a button and sent the stored letter. No one noticed with the celebration ongoing.
No one except Peyton.
She darted after Nico, slipping onto the lift before the doors closed and scowled.
Nico waited several seconds and looked at her. “Need something?”
“An explanation.” She pulled a pad from behind her desk. The letter he’d sent displayed across the screen.
Nico shrugged. “It’s a resignation.”
“But why?” she demanded. “You just won us the conflict.”
Nico shook his head. “I lost us possibilities due my blindness.”
“Blindness,” she repeated flabbergasted. “But your observation–”
“My observation was limited by my perspective,” Nico cut her off. “If I’d become a musician, I’d have noticed the patterns sooner.” Patterns drowned out by the static frying their systems.
The lift opened and Nico stepped out. “Patterns?” Peyton called.
Nico glanced back. “Quarter, eighter. Whole.” Pyeton scowled, not understanding. “They’d sent music, not threats.” The doors closed as her eyes widened.
Nico turned away. The fires would burn for cycles yet. Burning their songs.
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