The dying villain drifted back to awareness a few hours after dawn.
A little girl with purple hair and empty eyes stood over him, holding a wooden mallet and a metal spike, cannibalized from a nearby conduit.
A slow stream of green ichor dribbled from his eye sockets, but Izus managed to cock an eyebrow skeptically.
“You’re holding it all wrong.” he said, corruption burbling in his chest. “Don’t choke up so much on the handle, you won’t get a clean swing.”
Sinoe corrected her handhold on the hammer, and placed the tip of the spike surgically on his throat.
“I’m glad there’s someone with half a brain on this ship.” Izus said calmly. “Even though yours is just gears and wire.”
The construct carefully lined up the hammer with the top of the spike, and made a few practice swings -perfecting the arc. The mallet hit the spike with the lightest of chink sounds.
Sinoe raised the hammer to strike, then stopped.
“Problem?” Izus asked.
“Your death is the most logical conclusion to several sets of problems. It would benefit the overall well-being of the ship immediately, as well as prevent any possibility, however remote, of future danger from your actions or influence.” Sinoe replied.
“Absolutely.” the villain said. “Very sound reasoning.”
“But – I can’t.” the barest edge of confusion entered her mechanical tones. “I can’t. Something..old…won’t let me.”
Izus looked up towards the cargo bay ceiling for a moment, then angled his eyes towards Sinoe. The construct stood as still as a statue, still holding the hammer high.
“Too bad…too bad.” he said.