Rubicon

by J.S. Dewes

“Shut up and focus,” Adriene barked. With a break in the fire, Booker leaned out with his pistol and let loose a volley of bullets. “I can shoot and bitch at the same time.”

“Ninety-six? Mira’s end. What’s the 803rd up to out there?” She let out a sigh. “Forging a Galactic Future for Humanity,” she recited. He lifted an eyebrow. “By trial and fucking error?” “Basically.”

One individual’s trauma cannot be weighed against another’s. Both bear equal validity.

I see you’re catching on to the whole sarcasm thing. // You fill my array with superb examples. //

“I’m going to have to politely insist you back the fuck off,”

// Why are you thanking it? // I don’t know! Quiet—I’m driving the ship, remember? // Right into the sun … //

I should have told you. I’m trying, Adriene, really. I’m still learning how to be … what you need me to be. But I’ll never stop choosing you. You have to believe me.