The puddle of blood lapped at the heels of my boots. It was shocking how much a person can lose without dying. Its source, the ship's captain, sat nearly twenty feet away. He somehow could still struggle against the cords lashing her to her command chair.

"So what are the launch codes, captain?" I asked.

"I'd rather die than tell you," she said. She spat out a globule of blood. "Fucking terrorist."

I laughed, running a hand over the command deck's uneven surface. "Terrorist, eh? One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. I find those who consider me the latter far outweigh those who think the former."

"You mean those children you brainwashed into following your suicidal cause?" she snapped.

"I don't force anyone into fight for me," I said. "Its simply that most of our younger colonists aren't as brain-washed by your dogma. They can more easily see through your lies."

"What lies?!" the captain asked. I glanced at her ashen-white face, either from blood loss or terror. Likely both. "Do you think this colony would last even a single year without support from Earth? People would start dying in less than a month!"

"You really expect me to believe that a government that parks a dreadnought armed with enough nuclear weapons to wipe out the entire Moon has benevolent intentions? Please, captain."

"Go to hell," she hissed.

I laughed again. "Oh, captain. You are really not in a position to be cursing at me. Especially since I just realized that there are no launch codes." I grinned and spun around. "It's print activated."

I didn't think it possible, but her face grew even paler.

After much screaming and somehow even more blood, I had her index finger. I pressed the stump against the incandescent scanner, and it turned from red to green. "Welcome, Captain Brahe. Input your desired coordinate now."

"Don't do this," the captain pleaded. "You have no idea what you're doing. None! You're dooming this entire colony."

"More misinformation," I said as I quickly typed in the coordinates. I had memorized the numbers long ago, while serving as a navigations officer aboard this very ship. Six nuclear warheads, six cities, if you could call them that. 90% of the Earth's population, writhing in forced labor camps. "You're welcome," I said.

"Confirm selections," the computer chirped.

"Food, water, medicine, oxygen! Everything! Earth supplies Daedalus with everything!" the captain yelled.

"We'll manage," I said. "We have developed independent of the Earth's crippling influence for long enough." I smiled and wagged her finger at her. "You Earthlings always underestimate us." I turned, and pressed the finger against the scanner again, and the computer cheerfully chirped the confirmation.

I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to relish in my audience's reaction to my handiwork, but the captain had sadly expired. "Too bad," I muttered, and I turned my attention back to the fiery red mushroom blooming on the blue marble's surface.