My eyes were trained on Handler as soon as she walked in. My drugs were beginning to wear off, but she still burned like an inferno. Thalia looked like a smoldering match in comparison.

Handler stood a solid six inches above Thalia, and her presence demanded attention. Her auburn hair swayed as she walked in, the sight of a thousand licks of flame shifting overwhelmed me. As she spoke, I recognized her voice.

State your name, Pilot.

The interrogator.

Except this time, she wasn’t acknowledging me. She looked at Thalia. “Good work, Hail. Your assignment request has been acknowledged.” Handler turned her attention to me, the attention on me making me feel small, weak. “Hello, Elara.” The name felt wrong now, too professional, too important for me.

I stand, the slick knife clattering to the floor. I try my best to look intimidating. “G-go fuck yourself.” She’s the reason I’m here. She’s the reason I can’t see Pyralis. I hate her. I feel hatred drip from my lips as I continue, “Why? Why not just kill me, why the torment? Every bit of information I have now has to be outdated.” I didn’t deserve any of this, I didn’t mean to kill them. I was a pacifist.

She pauses, glancing at Thalia, before turning her attention back at me. I almost drop the knife due to the sheer pressure. “Gerard Hanes, 2-GR, Greybird. Your railgun.”

No, not this. Anything but this. I shook in place, continuing to glare at her. The name rang through my head, echoing louder and louder as I began to tear up. I was sorry. Couldn’t she tell I was sorry? “He made me do it. Pyralis would have died otherwise.”

“He was a known pacifist, Elara. We know what he threatened to do, and the odds are that he could have never followed through. He admired you, a rebel who didn’t kill,” she said with a deadpan tone. “Ironic, that he died at your hands.”

I couldn’t have known that. Could I? He was running. He was defending himself. Pyralis had tried to kill him. He had truly believed I wouldn’t hurt him. Why did he threaten her? He had to have known that it would push her over the edge. She took my silence as enough of a response.

“Draught Claws. 6-WB, Wishbone. Your plasma blaster,” Handler moved on. “The second WB model you killed. You knew every last specification of that machine, didn’t you?”

I did. I knew exactly where her cockpit was. I was given no other choice. If I hadn’t killed her, I would have lost. I would have never been able to see Pyralis again. “I was defending myself. She was one of the best pilots I’d ever faced. Her cannon was top of the line. It was life or death.”

“Another kill, another reason. Your latest murder weapon was hers, if you recall. It was indeed a custom model plasma blaster, she worked hard to keep it well tuned. She worked on it almost night and day. You used it to kill her colleague.”

I didn’t know that. How could I have?

“Maxine Hail.” Handler said the name plainly, Thalia recoiling a little at the mention. Handler kept speaking. “4-IB, Iceberg. You took her shield, not even a weapon.”

It wasn’t my fault. She could have lived. “I didn’t kill her. She wanted me to have it.” I comforted her in her last moments. My voice failed me, as I tried to continue to justify her death.

Handler nodded, as if accepting my answer. “But you took her machine, every last bit. Thalia here worked on the Iceberg personally, and was never able to say goodbye to the machine she had worked on for her sister. You took her parents, their machines, caused her sister’s death, and then took her machine.”

She was right. I hadn’t thought about how much the Iceberg might have meant to Thalia. I had stolen her biggest gift to her deceased sister, and didn’t leave as much as a message. “I’m sorry, Thalia.” It was a sorry far too late.

*“*Ouros Alamic. 3-CB, Cowbell. Did you know he had a child? Notoriously, he refused to have her on any of our digital records. She refused to see you, her father’s killer.” I had little excuse for his death, I was disoriented by his weapon and got sloppy. An accident. I felt a pang of sympathy run through me thinking about his daughter.

I rubbed my teeth against each other. I was sick of hearing my mistakes read out to me like a catalog. I looked down, bending over to pick up the knife still covered in my fluids. “Stop. I’ll use this, you know I will.”

Handler didn’t even acknowledge my threat. “Frigg Hallow. 5-VH, Valhalla. Enhanced thrusters.” I didn’t mean to kill her. She fell out of the sky. I tried to save her. “Thrusters you destroyed,” Handler responded, as if she was reading my mind.

“I’m a monster. I get the idea. Stop. I’m going home.” I would see Pyr again. No matter the cost. I had killed so many to be here, one more wouldn’t stop me.

She continued to ignore me. “Erada and Gregory Hail. 3-SB, 1-IF, Snowball and Infected. Superheated cannon and standard issue dual-barrel rifle.” Thalia stared daggers at me, as I felt my resolve away under their combined gaze.

“Killing Gregory was a mistake, and Erada forced my hand.” I could have taken greater care in that fight. I wasn’t paying attention to both my opponents, assuming Pyralis would take care of the Infection as I handled Snowball.

I couldn’t bring myself to move forward. I tightened my grip on the knife in my hand. Why weren’t they shutting off my arms? A test?

“Wysh Uralic. 2-CF, Craft. Spear-mounted drill.” That’s enough.

I charged at Handler, as Thalia stepped in the way. I stopped my swing as it reached her neck. “Stop. I’ll kill her. You’re going to let me out of here.” Thalia began to raise her arm, and I pressed the still wet knife to her neck. I didn’t want to do this. She was making me do this.

“Ghyll Mash. 5-WB, Wingbeat. Your first WB model. Their plasma cannon wasn’t good enough for you, was it?” My hand shook, as a drop of blood fell from Thalia’s neck. “Stop! I said stop, what’s the point of this?” Please. Don’t make me do this.

Handler held her hand up, as if to indicate she was pausing. “I would have thought you were smarter than that. As long as you hold that knife, you’re doing nothing but proving my point. You’ve taken so many from us, and you ask why we’re punishing you? You threaten to take another? Do it. End the last member of the Hail family, and walk out of here.”

I looked at Thalia’s face. She was terrified. The person who’d beat her senseless so many times was scared. Thalia truly didn’t know if I would kill her here, even after hearing my story. I didn’t know if I would kill her here. Anything to get back to Pyr.

My voice shook as I answered, “You say that like you haven’t killed every single rebel you’ve had the chance to, beat us until we break. You hate us. You wanted to tear me away from everything I loved, and expected us to sit still.” I steadied the blade to Thalia’s neck. Us or them.

“Then why are you still alive?” Handler’s voice softened, tone lightening as she began raising her arm towards mine. I didn’t move an inch.

I didn’t know. That’s what I was asking myself. Why was I here? Why were they breaking me down into this… thing? “I don’t know.”

“What are you, Elara?” Handler spoke firmly, her voice unwavering. She glared into my soul, demanding the truth. I couldn’t bear to say it.

“I’m a pilot. I’m a commander. I’m a rebel.” I rattled as I spoke the words. I wasn’t a pilot, not like this.

Handler slightly tilted her head at me, apparently puzzled by my response. “Do you like being those things, Elara? Do they make you happy?”

What kind of question was that? Why would war make me happy? Why would having to fight for my life and others be something to feel joy at? “N-no.” I felt Hander’s hand on my arm, her touch feeling like it was searing through it.

“Why is that, Elara?” Her arm was pulling mine away from Thalia, who let out a sigh of relief, quickly leaving the room.

I fought for Pyralis. I was protecting her, giving her a better life. She deserved it. Why wasn’t I happy with just that? Why didn’t it feel right? “I don’t know.”

The Handler gripped my wrist, the drugs continuing to lose their effectiveness. I could almost see her face clearly now. She didn’t look… anything. No anger, no rage, no happiness. Empty. She replied, “I think it’s because of people like Yanil Ruin, Elara.”

“1-CB, Crab. Plasma cutter.” I spoke in response. Kill 3.

She squeezed, as I felt my hand go limp. “Even more, I think it’s because of everybody else who died fighting you. Every name that wasn’t on the arms mounted in your machine. Every person you could never ‘honor’ by carrying their name.” The knife clattered to the floor. She let go of my arm, and I fell to my knees.

“I’ll make you a deal, Callisto.” Handler stepped out of the way, the open door to the room now in my sight. “You can walk out right now, if you think you don’t deserve this. If you believe that you can be forgiven for what you’ve done. Go on, walk.”

I used every last bit of strength I had to stand, taking a step towards the door. That part of my mind at the edge of my thoughts pressed on me, as I froze. Us or them. Us or them. Us or them. I took another step. Freedom was right there. I would see Pyr again.

Handler cleared her throat, before speaking. “Sylla Callisto. 4-XF, Dragonfly.” Mom.

The names felt like gunshots in my back, as I collapsed to the floor again. My hand was inches from the doorway. I reached out. I was sorry. Pyralis needed me. It didn’t matter what I deserved.

She continued, “Artifice Callisto. 2–SD, Stormdrain. ” Dad.

I deserved this. I deserved every last bit of it. This was my punishment, for every single name on my ledger. I didn’t deserve Pyr. She needed better. This was where I belonged.

“What are you, Elara?”

I’m a mutt.