"Okay," Ruth said, taking a cautious step forward. "Let's not… let's not do anything rash, okay?"

The woman holding the gun to Dragan's head gave Ruth a warning glance. At the same time, she tightened her grip against the weapon, pressing it harder against his temple.

Bruno grabbed Ruth by the shoulder with his hand, pulling her backwards, back towards his position. The Supremacy woman smiled.

"That's better," she said, watching the two of them like a hawk. "That's just swell. I agree with you, girl. Let's not do anything rash. Like I said, I have some demands."

"And what are they?" Bruno growled. His face was filled with barely restrained fury.

"You," the woman nodded at Bruno. "You're the pilot, right?"

"Among other things."

She narrowed her eyes. "Answer the question."

"I just did. Yes, if that's the answer you're looking for."

Ruth glanced nervously at Dragan -- the Cogitant was barely conscious on his feet, eyes staring off into space as he hung limply from the woman's grip. Was he even really aware of what was happening right now? Definitely not: he'd have come out with some sarcasm or a threat if he was.

"I want off this damn ship," the Supremacy woman said, still looking towards Bruno. "You can make that happen."

Bruno glared. "Sure I can. Exit's right there." He pointed towards the loading ramp.

"Off the Regent, you buffoon. You're going to fly me away from here -- and you're gonna take me where I want to go. You do anything outside of this, and this guy's going to be missing his head."

Silence settled over the cabin for a moment, the woman staring at Bruno, Bruno staring at the woman, Ruth standing between the two of them. The woman's finger curled threateningly against the pistol's trigger, the threat in the gesture obvious -- and with that, Bruno relented.

"We'll need to get to the nearest lightpoint first," Bruno sniffed. "Without that, we can't get anywhere."

The woman relaxed slightly, her grip on the pistol loosening. "Smart boy. Get in the cockpit and start charting the flight path. Remember -- no funny business."

Bruno glanced at Ruth, the meaning obvious in his eyes -- don't fuck around -- before turning and marching towards the cockpit, his hands in the air. As he took a seat and began working the controls, Ruth didn't take her eyes off the woman. There was every chance that she'd just shoot Bruno in the back if she saw the opportunity.

The woman jerked the pistol in Ruth's direction. "I think I want your hands up in the air too. Make sure you don't try anything."

Slowly, Ruth lifted her hands up. Damn it -- she'd been intending to sneakily manifest her gauntlets while her hands had been out of sight, but that was clearly out of the question now.

"What's your name?" Ruth asked, voice cold.

The woman smirked, pushing her glasses up with her free elbow. "You don't need to know that."

"I do." I need to know what to put on your tombstone.

The woman's bright blue eyes drilled into Ruth's golden ones for an agonizing few seconds, before she relented. "Ah," she sighed. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Daphne Halacourt -- Special Officer of the Supremacy."

Ruth hadn't thought it possible for the situation to get any more tense, but those few words had managed it. Her body stiffened. Atoy Muzazi hadn't been the end of it, then -- the Supremacy was just going to keep sending people after them.

Daphne wasn't done yet, though -- she squinted at Ruth, inspecting her from a distance. "I know you," she muttered. "I know your face. From the news?" Her mouth spread out into a wide grin. "You're the one who killed Admiral Barridad. That was kind of a big deal, you know."

A lashed corpse, strapped to a post. The hollow-eyed admiral, holding the whip.

"You must expect natural consequences," he'd said.

Fresh claws buried in ribs.

A cold sweat settled over her shoulders as unwelcome memories flooded in. She gulped, the saliva feeling heavy in her throat, struggling to go down.

Her hands, up in the air, shook.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ruth muttered -- but she was no Dragan. Her lies came out clumsy and obvious, answered only by a laugh from Daphne.

"You are!" she chuckled, her grip on Dragan wobbling back and forth in time with her laughter. "Ruth Blaine, right? The wanted criminal? Oh, this is a holiday! They'll love me for bringing you in!"

No. Ruth wasn't about to let this go the way Daphne Halacourt wanted. She wasn't helpless. She'd learnt how to survive a long time ago.

But, still… her eyes drifted to Dragan, to the pistol still pressed against his skull.

I don't want to lose what I have.

But which path was losing? The path where she fought back and risked Dragan, or the path where she complied and risked everyone, everything else? There was only one choice to make, but she couldn't muster up the courage to take it.

How would Dragan see it?

He'd say that there were only two possible outcomes here. The first came with a chance that Dragan would be hurt or even killed. The second came with a much larger chance that everyone, including Dragan, would be hurt or killed. So there was only one option to go for.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The ship shuddered as it took off, beginning it's exit from the hangar.

"Don't try anything while you're up there!" Daphne called up to the cockpit. "I can see your Aether through the walls -- I'll know!"

The woman glanced towards the cockpit as she spoke. There wouldn't be a better opportunity.

Ruth lunged forwards, Skeletal Set forming around her body in an instant, and slashed at the hand that was holding the gun. The weapon took the brunt of the blow, flying up into the air and firing a shot of plasma into the ceiling.

Daphne stared up at the weapon for a moment before glaring back down at Ruth, face contorted with fury. A spark of pale green Aether ran through her free hand -- but before she could use whatever that technique was to make good on her threat, Ruth seized Dragan by the shoulder and threw him behind her, towards Skipper, out of Daphne's grasp.

"That was a bad idea," Daphne growled -- and in the same moment, the Aether collecting in her hand solidified, becoming a jet-black dagger. It's blade glinted with deadly promise.

The first attack came quick as lightning -- an experimental jab right at Ruth's throat, to gauge her reflexes. Normally, Ruth would have been confident her armour could stand up against such a little knife, but in this case her body drove her to duck beneath the blow. She couldn't say why, exactly, but that black dagger was bad news.

Ruth retaliated with an attack of her own -- both sets of her Skeletal claws converging at Daphne's stomach, like a pair of scissors closing. Daphne jumped back, avoiding being bisected by only seconds, catching her pistol as it finished it's flight.

She couldn't allow Daphne to catch her breath. That was obvious. Her behaviour so far made it clear -- this woman won when she controlled the conditions around her. If Ruth gave her enough time to come up with a plan, she'd lose.

The plasma pistol spat fire -- and Ruth caught it in her gauntlet's palm, gritting her teeth as she felt the excruciating heat through the metal. She couldn't allow Daphne to fire freely, either -- there was a good chance she'd hit Dragan and Skipper, whether she was aiming for them or not. Ruth charged forward -- slamming her shoulder into Daphne, sending both of them flying into the wall.

"Bruno!" Ruth shouted -- only to be cut off as Daphne stabbed at her face with the dagger. With the close proximity and the speed of the attack, dodging wasn't an option, so Ruth instead reached out with one of her armoured hands to catch the weapon.

That was the wrong move.

With a sound like whispering shadows, the dagger passed through Ruth's armour as if it wasn't even there -- and then it sliced her hand right open. Ruth cried out in pain, recoiling, but as she did Daphne lunged forward again for another attack. It seemed neither of them were the type to let up when it came to momentum.

That dagger was able to bypass her armour. Ruth didn't understand how or why, but she didn't need to. All that mattered was that she avoided it.

Ruth spat in Daphne's face as she stepped in -- infusing the saliva with Aether -- and as the projectile hit, Daphne's head snapped back and her stab went wild, sailing underneath Ruth's arm. Not missing a moment, Ruth twisted her own body, seizing Daphne with one arm around her neck and the other around her waist, squeezing tightly.

"Give up," Ruth growled. "Or I break your neck."

"Not likely." It only took Daphne an instant to break free -- some kind of Aether shockwave erupting from her body and sending Ruth flying back into the wall. There was nothing worse than fighting someone you didn't know -- you had no idea what bullshit they could pull out of their ass.

Before she could get back up, Ruth gasped as Daphne's hand lunged forward to squeeze her throat -- and, to keep her in place, the black dagger was plunged through her injured hand and into the wall. That gasp became a scream very quickly.

"There we go," Daphne sneered, driving her knee into Ruth's gut. "Not so rowdy now, huh? Not so smart? I'm the best the Supremacy has to offer, you idiot -- and you're nothing. Nothing! How did you think it was gonna turn out?!"

Where the hell was Bruno?! The answer popped into her head a moment later -- and Ruth almost felt stupid for wondering. He was flying the ship, of course. No matter what was going on back here, if Bruno abandoned his post, they ran the risk of being dashed against the debris of the two massive starships.

Ruth went to lunge for the dagger in her hand -- to pull it out and use it for herself -- but a painful jab below the ribs put an end to that. Daphne laughed in her face as Ruth slumped backwards: "Are you serious?! You took down an admiral like this?!" She punctuated her point by placing the barrel of her pistol just under Ruth's chin, her finger curling around the trigger.

"I'd say it's been nice knowing you," Daphne smirked. "But it really hasn't."

Was this it? Had she really failed so spectacularly? At the very least, she'd gotten herself, Dragan and Skipper killed -- Daphne wouldn't spare them. Maybe Bruno and Serena would survive, but it was doubtful how long that would be for.

A bitter laugh crawled out of Ruth's throat. She'd fucked it all up again. Her vision began to blur -- only to shift into sharp contrast once again when she glanced behind Daphne.

When she glanced at the prosthetic arm pointing in her direction.

If Skipper was conscious, it was only barely. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing laboured, his limbs shaking… but still, as if on instinct, he'd moved -- pointing the arm that was the deadliest weapon Ruth knew at Daphne. His lips mouthed words Ruth already knew off by heart:

Heartbeat Shotgun.

The explosion was deafening -- accompanied by a flash of green Aether and a pressure that felt like it would tear the ship apart entirely.

Unregulated force slammed into Daphne's back with a sickening, spine-shattering crack. The woman's body went flying as the sound propelled it, smashing into the wall and leaving a smear of new red paint as it collapsed in a heap.

Skipper slumped over. For the moment, the job was done.

But Ruth still couldn't relax. She pulled the dagger free from her hand with a yelp of pain, holding her injured palm tight. That Heartbeat Shotgun had been overboard -- more like the one that had destroyed the hangar on Caelus Breck than Skipper's usual fare. The wall Daphne had crashed into dented outwards dangerously, and the ship was filled with strobing red light and a distant, warbling alarm.

Sparks rained down from the ceiling, narrowly missing the unconscious Dragan on the floor. Ruth pulled him and Skipper away from the danger zone, dragging them with all her strength in the direction of the cockpit. This room was screwed, clearly, but the cockpit should have been intact.

As she reached the doorway, she came face to face with Bruno, running in the opposite direction. His face was pale, panicked. Not a good sign.

"What the hell happened?!" he yelled over the alarms, eyes widening as he took in the devastation over Ruth's shoulder.

"Heartbeat Shotgun," Ruth grunted. "Took out that woman, but looks like it might've taken us out too. The hell do we do?"

Bruno shook his head. "Ship's fucked -- we're locked onto the gravity of the nearest planet, and we can't break free in this condition."

Ruth's grip on Skipper and Dragan loosened. "So we're going down?" she mumbled, lost.

"We're going down," Bruno nodded grimly. "But not without a fight."

And with that, he stepped into the middle of their little group, palms thrust out on either side of him. He squeezed his eyes shut with utmost concentration -- and as he did, purple Aether began to flood through his body, forcefields upon forcefields being erected around them. Ruth couldn't even count how many layers were appearing. The light passing through them was warped, refracting until the space within was flooded with an ethereal glow.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, the shaking of the ship increasing in intensity.

Bruno opened his eyes, giving her an unsure look. It was a stark contrast to his words. "Giving us a chance," he said, and then --

-- and then everything went black.

----------------------------------------

A star fell from the sky that night.

END OF ARC 4