Regret

Five days later…

“Remind me again, how come Seymour’s to getting his hands dirty!?” someone yelled from afar, in amongst the rattling of mining machinery, and other simultaneous conversations also taking place.

Yasmin looked down at the ground guiltily. It’d been nearly a week, and every night, she’d been having the very same dream. She could remember it like it was only yesterday…

<snip>

She drew out the dagger from within her blazer, the very same that she’d been wearing when Geoffrey had given her the vocal death warrants earlier that afternoon. But, of course, however cliched it may seem, neither Yasmin nor Jay had a smegging clue what was going on.

“Wizzy?”

Eliza didn’t hesitate. As she was about to lunge it into Jay’s chest, Mark walked into the drive room, and turned to walk back out again. But she called him back, a harshest of tones booming through her voice.

“Don’t smegging move!”

“Um…okay…”

“Liza, what the smeg?”

“I have orders.”

“What kinda orders, exactly? Not that I don’t believe you but…eh, I don’t.”

“I have been awarded two death warrants.”

He paused, and Mark stres at her. “And they’re directed at us two, I guess?”

She nodded sombrely.

“Who from?” Mark interrupted.

“President Thwart.”

<snitp>

She shook her head hard, shaking the horrid memory from her immediate thoughts. She didn’t want to think about that now. It had been three days since she’d noticed Katrina slip out the memorial on the upper deck. It must’ve been about Jay, she remembered, thinking sadly of how she was so morbid about everything.

It had been that very moment, when Markhad revealed his hologramatic status. It had been that very moment when Jay had woken her up, and when she had slapped that smegging red button. It was what Thwart had wanted all along. It had been that very same minute, when the entire crew of the INDIGO NOVA had been killed by the release of deadly gases into the ship from the radiation tanks down in the cargo decks.

The entire crew, except from her.

She was a genocidal maniac, to some. To others, she was a sad, lonely completely smegging depressed girl with major anger issues. In her hand, she held a single shard of the china bowl that Jay had given her on her wedding day. It filled with her tears.

“Hello?”

She looked up, her tear-wet hair sticking sweatily onto her forehead shading the light dimly from her eyes, to see Katrina Chrysler looking down at her.

“Hi.”

She picked up a trowel, and tossed another across to Yasmin’s feet, picking it up, she then proceeded to ask:

“What the smeg’s this meant to be?”

“A trowel, maybe?” She stopped, and shaded her own eyes from the light. “I thought we’d better at least look like we‘re trying to work.”

Yasmin picked at the fading forest green paint that was fast peeling from the trowel’s handle, and smirked, in a smart-arse kinda way, back at Katrina. “Yeah. Like a smegging metal trowel’s gonna compare to one of those.”

She pointed over to where Phil and Alex were mucking about with the heavy-duty mining machinery, and Katrina stifled a gasp of a laugh.

“Smegheads,” Yasmin sighed.

Katrina stood up from where she’d been crouching, and brushed some imaginary dust from her clothes. “Gotta go. I want to go check on him again.”

Yasmin bit her lip. At least she knew for certain that her Jay was gone forever, there was no doubt about that. But she still had a chance, despite the fact that…it wasn’t too great, what was happening just now.

Why couldn’t everything just be right again? Why couldn’t she just sty in her dream fantasy, where everyone was okay again?

Why couldn’t she’ve just stayed away from that smegging button?