There hadn't been an explosion in a long time.

Months had passed since Mokou had accepted fusion with Kaguya. A certain stability had fallen over them; not a restful peace, no sense of fulfilment or plenitude that could arise from a resolution of one's deep-rooted problems, it was simply a lack of anything explosive. No big events, no changes, just a status quo that had forced itself on them without their explicit consent. Yes, Kaguya had agreed, even orchestrated the fusion, but she hadn't consented to all that followed, this stillness; it was it was much more than she was comfortable with. It was as if they had missed an important conclusion, but were living in a state that built upon that conclusion anyway, somehow.

There hadn't been any explosions. Time had been passing, without much to indicate that it had passed. The seconds added up, insignificant, yet when they looked back at them, weeks had passed.

Mokou sunk her weight into and armchair. Comfort, on a physical level. She then sank herself into the comfort of recollection : she viewed all the seconds that she had let pile up unnoticed, then converted them into a whole (a week and a half had gone by without her noticing). She wasn't concerned, though : quite the opposite. She wasn't disconnected from time, nor was she experiencing too much or too little to be able to comprehend it, as she had before. Instead, she smiled. Time simply hadn't done anything to make itself noticed to her. She hadn't suffered enough to be reminded of her own existence, her existence outside of Kaguya. She had let herself sink into the comfort of fusion, comfort both physical and psychological.

Compared to most of her life, that was an achievement. She had been scared to let herself fall back into this lifestyle (existence always in vague proximity; fights to the death for entertainment; fucking each other whenever they felt like it; a somewhat shared suffering numbed by each other's existence), but now that she had taken the plunge, she couldn't help but question why she hadn't done so earlier. Not that hindsight tormented her in the slightest : the few months where she and Kaguya had been together but not fused weren't even an observable fraction in her timeline. She was content. She could accept the status quo. She currently wasn't fighting anything.

And then, there was Kaguya. Kaguya, who had gotten everything she had wanted. She had had the ideal situation to keep Mokou in, she had worn her down enough for them to fuse once again, all that after crediting herself for fixing Mokou's problems. She had it great. She had won. She should have been happy, and she knew it.

And yet Kaguya couldn't settle for what she had. She couldn't accept any status quo. She couldn't just let herself be happy.

She had had a goal, one that she had put all her effort into working towards. It had gotten her hurt, mentally and physically, but she didn't care about that. She had already forgotten any pain, both to herself and to others, that had been caused by her scheming. All she remembered was the entertainment it had procured her : she had been stimulated, she had had successes that she could glorify in her mind, which she could then use to make herself feel superior over. Her mind was letting her remember something positively, for once, but only because she then tortured herself over the memory.

Right now, she had achieved the most stability she could realistically hope to attain (in a ship floating in deep space, millions of years after everyone she had known on Earth had died, with only Mokou for company as they drifted forever in the void); she had what she wanted, she wasn't overwhelmingly miserable. She couldn't complain.

She had no right. Everything had lined up in her interests, and the situation she had gotten herself into was of her own design. Everything was telling her to just shut up and be content. But she was restless.

She was used to explosions : creating them, experiencing them. They shattered her and the world around her, created fissures in eternity's unwavering, straight line that would otherwise continue to be traced forever, unbroken. She hadn't realised it consciously at the time, but she enjoyed blowing things up so that she could slowly put them back together again. It gave her something to do, broke the monotony. Let her exercise her creative side. Destructive action was preferable to forced inaction, inaction forced upon her by nothing other than the idea that there was such a thing as a state that she should she rest in forever, an ideal state.

However, she had fused with Mokou. It was a reciprocal affair; fusion wasn't possible if it was unrequited. She had become a part of Mokou as much as Mokou had become a part of her. She loved her deeply (or, as deeply as she was capable of). Right now, she felt like she didn't want to make her unhappy. Not deliberately. She watched her other half sitting in an armchair, head back, eyes closed. Was that a faint smile on her face ?

"Mokou ?" she asked, surprising herself.

"Hmm ?" the other immortal responded, eyes still closed.

"Are you ok ?" She hadn't meant to say that. In theory, it was what she was trying to ask, but said like that, it sounded like small talk, a triviality. She really wanted to know if Mokou was ok in a general sense, with her current status. Ok with accepting things as they were, with the lack of change. But that wasn't what she had asked, so all she got was an affirmative grunt in response. She didn't press further. She knew neither of there were ever truly going to be ok; the real question would have been do you want change ?

But she didn't ask that. She knew the answer. This was the least miserable she had seen Mokou in a long time (longer still, if she took Mokou's life into account, the millions of years she had managed to skip). Mokou wouldn't want to ruin that; she'd be clinging on to this lack of misery as long as she could. She wasn't like Kaguya. She didn't need the same kind of intellectual stimulation. She was content with less. Was that a hint of contempt in her thoughts…? Kaguya noticed it; it bothered her.

"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back soon." She needed to remove herself from this situation. She recognised the start of resentful thoughts festering within her, and she didn't want them to take root. Fusion with Mokou had helped, in that sense. Given her a bit more self-awareness, thanks to allowing more of an external viewpoint of herself. She got up, and left the room. Only, her capabilities of self-care ended there : now, she found herself unsure of what happened next.

Distraction was needed, that much was obvious. And so after some consideration, she knew where to find it. A secret she had still kept to herself, during fusion. An advantage, a shame. She was going to visit Eirin.

Deep down in the ship, far from their shared living quarters, a screen hooked up to the central AI remained intact. It might not have been the only one - in fact, that would be unlikely, considering the size of the Red Dwarf - but it was one that she was certain about, one that, during the heat of the moment, during the fire and energy of their shared destruction, she had still chosen to overlook, to spare from destruction. Mercy, she had lied to herself at the time, convincing nobody. An advantage, that's what it really was. A breach of trust based of a could be useful later. There were still walls between them, at the time. That was her excuse. But now ?

Now, she was using it to protect Mokou. That was her new excuse. She needed a distraction, something to explode, but she didn't want consequences. She was once again faced with the problem of wanting to break something, without it being broken. So why not take her emotions out on that which couldn't be broken ? It was the next best thing. A punching bag, of sorts.

"Eirin ?" she demanded upon entering the room. They hadn't talked since the rampage, yet this was still the level of courtesy Kaguya felt Eirin deserved. "Are you there ?" A few seconds passed without any reaction from the screen. Kaguya glared at where she thought the camera was. "Aren't you supposed to be watching over us or something ?" This got a reaction : a flicker, followed by Eirin's face displaying itself on the screen.

"Did you not request that I refrain from doing so ?" The sage's expression was somehow perfectly neutral : no joy at being able to talk to someone again, no anger at the fact she was used as a scapegoat.

"And yet, you responded," Kaguya replied, her words filled with contempt. Unreasonable, as she was well aware : whether Eirin had appeared or not would have led to scorn under one pretext or another. Eirin seemed to quickly catch on to the princess's intentions, taking on a tired yet resolute tone.

"What can I help you with, Princess ?"

"Why don't you tell me. What are you even here for, any more ? Haven't you done enough ?" She wasn't trying to carefully construct her sentences to leave verbal traps, to prove a point, or even to make much sense. She was on the level of a bratty child being rude for attention, and she knew it. She didn't consider more effort to be necessary. After all, Eirin wasn't even real. Why bother with mind games when faced with someone without a mind ? Empty punches aimed at a lifeless punching bag, that was all it was.

"I assure you, I still have my uses, Princess. I correct the ship's course to avoid any obstacles, I run system checks to make sure everything is working properly - it would be a shame if you ran out of oxygen, for example, wouldn't it ? - and I generally make sure nothing will interfere with how you're choosing to live. Is that all you wanted to know ?" Eirin's tone was decidedly less polite than the other times they had talked. The few months alone must have been enough for her to realise that reverence wasn't required for her to perform what she had been programmed to do.

Kaguya didn't reply straight away; instead, she came to sit on the nearest surface in front of the screen. She was hesitant : she had no planned approach, no endgame in mind, just emotions with a need for resolution. Eventually, she spoke.

"And… how exactly have I been choosing to live, Eirin ? Can you tell me that ?" There was less insolence now, more of a sense of foreboding in her voice. There were no right answers here.

"Considering how I set everything up to be ideal for you, you should be living exactly the way you wanted to : a state of fusion with Mokou . Am I wrong ?" Kaguya noted that Eirin carefully avoided confirming or denying that she still was able to monitor what they were doing. She wouldn't get a straight answer if she had pressed that point, so she didn't want to waste time trying.

"No, you're… not wrong. You helped give me everything I wanted…" She let her voice trail off; a clear sign of unfulfilment.

"And yet, you summoned me. Did you fail, somehow, or was everything you wanted just not good enough for you, Princess ?"Eirin's tone was almost mocking, at this point. Kaguya's features slowly started contorting with anger (resentment ?).

"Why the fuck would you give me everything I wanted ? Are you stupid ? You know how caustic I am. You know I can't be happy, not anymore. You know happiness melts when it comes in contact with me. Were you trying to ruin my best shot at being happy, by letting it destroy itself against me ?" Eirin smiled and shook her head. She was used to handling Kaguya's destructive nature. She had had to learn, over the years. Right now, Kaguya was trying to project the blame onto her, an easy target, a target that wouldn't matter. It would be a lot simpler, a lot less painful in the short term. But eternity made anything short-term irrelevant. Eirin had to dig deeper, to get under her skin.

"You're giving me too much power, Princess. I merely gave you the tools to gain everything you wanted. If you're still unhappy… Maybe you've been using them wrong." Kaguya grit her teeth, holding back the urge to smash the screen. Not worth her effort in a conversation ? No, Kaguya had underestimated Eirin, somehow. Forgotten that even as an AI, she was just as smart as the real one. It was convenient to think of her as a mere machine with it came to using her then abandoning her, but when face to face with her, she couldn't let her guard down. Already, she had managed to deflect the blame back at her, the blame she was trying to offload in the first place.

"No, I got what I wanted. I'm living with Mokou, just like I did back in Eientei…"

"And so, what seems to be the problem ? Is that no longer enough for you, Princess ?" Eirin was enjoying this, Kaguya could tell. Still, Eirin was useful, or would be useful, so she just had to grit her teeth and bear it.

"The problem… the problem is that everything is too uneventful. Stale. Nothing new, nothing explosive."

"I do apologize if the vacuum of space isn't entertaining enough for you, Princess. Maybe you'd like to visit the nearest black hole ? That might be a bit more exciting. We could be there in a few millennia if we hurry."

"If we entered it, could we die ?"

"In horrible amounts of pain, over and over again. Your suffering would be endless; you'd never escape it."

"Nothing new there, then."

"So, shall I plot a course for it, Princess ?" Kaguya simply chuckled in response. She was starting to enjoy the more confrontational Eirin : it was more distracting, it let her retaliate better. It reminded her less of the guilt-written wreck she had fled from, left behind on Earth. Her smile faded when she realised that Eirin probably knew this, and had adapted to better serve her purpose.

"Eirin, I'm bored. I need more. Happiness isn't good enough for me, apparently."

"In that case, the ship has quite a lot to offer in the way of entertainment, Princess. For example, there are some virtual reality games in the recreation bay, said to simulate your wildest dreams. Maybe you could try one, lose yourself in it ?"

"No, I… I've tried them before. Can't seem to get them to work." It had been a rather boring experience : as soon as she launched the game, she was greeted with a black screen and the words You Died written in a bold, white font. No matter what she tried, the "respawn" option that was presented to her just wouldn't work. She concluded that they must have been broken. "What I need is change, where it matters. Entertainment that'll stimulate me properly."

"And yet, what matters to you means only one thing. The one thing you supposedly had under control. Am I to understand that you are not fully satisfied by your relationship with Mokou ?" They had begun to orbit the point of this entire visit. It made Kaguya start to feel on edge.

"No, I am, and yet that's… the problem, too."

"No more explosions ?"

"That's the simple explanation, I suppose."

"And yet, you're so good at causing them, princess. You're like fuel that only needs the smallest spark to ignite, consuming everything around you. Don't tell me, you're having trouble finding that spark ? Usually, Mokou is more than sufficient…"

Kaguya looked away from the screen. The more they talked, the more she realised that what she really wanted wasn't achievable through Eirin. The next best thing simply wasn't good enough. She always had been terrible at compromising. Hitting a punching bag would never give the same thrill as knocking someone down.

"I need conflict, Eirin. I need to be able to destroy, so that I may have the power to re-create. I've achieved stability; it's what Mokou wanted, so it felt like it was what I wanted, too. And it still is ! In a way. As you said, I'm volatile enough to find a spark when I need one. To create one, if necessary. But Mokou has suffered. She's worked so hard for this stability. If I do something that shatters it irreparably, I…. I'd have lost more than I had gained, I think. I don't know how to reconcile the urge to break her with the fact that I don't want her to remain broken." Kaguya felt her skin crawl. She knew how good she was at not being self-aware, most of the time. She knew the atrocities she had committed under the guise of ignorance, the power she had given herself by twisting the truth to fit the way she wanted it to be. But faced with Eirin, she was having to express her true feelings, and seeing them lain out in front of her like that, knowing they had came out of her mouth, out from deep inside her, was nothing but repulsive to her.

"I see," Eirin said pensively. "Isn't that why you fight and fuck each other to death, though ? For entertainment ? For stimulation ?"

"It's true, they provide both of those things. But they don't provide change. They're almost routine, they're… accepted. I need change, Eirin." Eirin closed her eyes, clearly thinking for a while.

"Well then, you need to make one thing clear within yourself, Princess. Answer me this : if everything carried on the way it was now - stability, bordering on contentment - for the foreseeable future, how would you feel about it ?" Kaguya took a moment to imagine what she was being asked. She quickly had an answer, but she pretended to think for longer than she needed to, to try to convince herself that the answer wasn't quite so easy to arrive at.

"I… would hate it. I couldn't handle that, Eirin. I need my friction, my rough patches. I need my explosions." Eirin nodded, clearly having already planned a follow-up question.

"And so now, tell me this : is it Mokou you don't want to break… or is it only your current relationship with her that you need to remain intact ?" This question took Kaguya by surprise, until it settled on her, comforting, enabling. Eirin had found the words she had been looking for. The loophole that let her be the horrible person she enjoyed being too much to be able to quit, without needing to suffer any negative consequences. She felt the guilt, the repulsion she had felt towards herself, transfer itself away from her, onto Eirin. Let her be the one who is responsible. She's enabling this, she's the one to blame.

"The relationship. I need to be able to break Mokou, without breaking our current relationship."

"Well then," Eirin said, not attempting to hide her grin, "let me once again hand you the tools to your happiness".

Mokou noticed Kaguya return to the living quarters after some time had passed. How much time, she couldn't say : time away from Kaguya didn't have much to indicate its passing. An absence was felt; not so much a sadness, or anything particularly concrete, but an interruption she was only really aware of when she noticed it ending.

"Had a nice walk ?" she asked, not particularly interested in her reply.

"Sure," she responded. "As nice as a bunch of corridors can be." Kaguya's mind was brimming over in anticipation. She had a plan that had started to boil within her, and upon seeing Mokou,, the bubbles had started to froth over, unable to be contained under the lid of her mind. But the boiling of the water wasn't indicative of how well prepared the contents of the pot were; they were premature, a mark of amateurism. She had to lift the lid, let it simmer down for a while longer.

She came to lie down on the sofa in front of where Mokou was sitting. She let herself stretch out, languorously, seductively. She had time. She was in control. She had a plan, she just didn't want to rush into it. After all, she knew that what she was about to do couldn't be done too often; she had to savour it, to make the most of it.

It didn't take Mokou long to pick up on Kaguya's body language : an arm draped over the edge of the sofa, the dress slipping off one shoulder, a fluttering of the eyelashes when Mokou finally locked eyes with her. This was another form of power she held over Mokou. Reciprocally, to an extent; Kaguya just tended to exert it more liberally, to better effect. Even without trying, her ability to seduce had gotten her into some trouble, back on Earth; now, she had had practice, and used it to her advantage, as a tool in her arsenal. Unlike her past suitors, there was no need to send Mokou off to hunt treasures that she'd never be able to find. Putting up with the princess for eternity was already the worst of all her impossible requests.

It didn't take long for clothing to start being removed, for their bodies to start pressing up against each other, for movement and friction to start being converted into pleasure. They knew each other as well as themselves, at this point. It was habitual, almost automatic, without feeling mechanical or bland. A pleasant blur; some time away from reality, some time together to merge on a physical level, as well.

They continued; the movements also created warmth, heating up both their bodies and the shared space between them. Kaguya knew she was playing with fire; a dangerous game, yet an exhilarating one. She was fuel, just waiting to explode : right now, with Mokou, it was like she was dangling a lit match right above the flammable liquid, just far enough that it wouldn't ignite, but close enough that it gave her a rush. Of course, the match was just a tool in this, unaware of the potential much larger reaction it could cause; all it could do was gnaw away at the short piece of wood it was comprised of. That seemed enough to it, that was its purpose. Only Kaguya had access to the bigger picture.

And yet it wouldn't be Mokou's fire that set off Kaguya's fuel this time. She held back, saved her explosion for later. She let Mokou burn herself out, she encouraged it, even. The match had been spent, served its purpose. It was content. Mokou let herself lie down on her back, breathing heavily. Ignorant of the larger reaction she could have caused, the one that Kaguya had denied her. Kaguya pretended to be satisfied; really, she was just putting herself on hold. She had patience, when she needed to. She had had plenty enough time to practice, after all.

"So, are you heading to the shower first ?" She asked Mokou. Really, she was suggesting it, telling her to do so, even. Mokou knew this, of course : if the Kaguya had wanted to shower first, she simply would have done so. So she left the princess to her own devices, leaving into the adjacent bathroom to their living quarters. The mechanical door slid closed behind her with a faint sound. Kaguya's lips curled into a grin. Soon.

She waited a little longer, eventually walking up to the bathroom door. It was made of thick, solid metal, just like most things were on the Red Dwarf. Built to last. She put her ear to it : faintly, she could hear the sound of running water. She briefly considered walking away, leaving the room, leaving Mokou in peace. Didn't she love Mokou ? But those thoughts deflected off her mind, unable to settle down. If she was truly capable of love, it would have been enough for her. But she wasn't, which it why it wasn't. Mokou deserved better, she knew that, she mourned that she hadn't gotten better, but right now and forever more, all Mokou had was Kaguya. Poor Mokou. And now, it was time.

A quick glance around the room was all it took her to find a computer terminal. The screen above it may have been broken in a demonstration of devotion towards Mokou, but the keyboard was still perfectly functional, was still capable of destroying that trust : it was still hooked up to the central AI. Kaguya had the power. She was in control, now. She was smiling with anticipation as she typed a short sequence of numbers into the keyboard. By themselves, they were meaningless, they didn't appear on any screen or cause any immediate action. But with Eirin, a meaning had been agreed upon, together. With Eirin's cooperation, Kaguya had more control than she had ever had before. Control over the entire Red Dwarf; truly, she was the goddess of their shared universe. A simple tool in Kaguya's ambitions such as Mokou had no hope to understand what had been planned for her.

A few seconds after the last key was pressed, it began. The lights all shut off, leaving Kaguya in the faint glow of the emergency exit signs; just enough light for her to navigate her way back over to the bathroom door, sitting with her back to it. Loud, metal clangs were ringing out throughout the ship : the doors were all slamming shut and locking. The Red Dwarf had entered emergency lockdown mode : the same mode it had been in for three million years, after the radiation leak.

And then, the reaction. She heard Mokou's footsteps approach the door on the other side, she heard her throw herself against it, hoping it was merely jammed. The early stages of panic, where disbelief starts slipping away between your fingers as you cling desperately to it, as to not be left only with despair.

Kaguya was destroying. This was an act of destruction; she had given Mokou peace to her body and mind, only to now be taking it away. Yet Mokou couldn't see who was breaking her peace; she couldn't see anything, plunged into the claustrophobic darkness that she had suffered in for so long. Kaguya was given a way to destroy, without being able to be held accountable for it. A crimeless victim.

Anger was now the primary emotion coming from behind the door. The bathroom was briefly lit up by Mokou's flames; Kaguya felt some heat against her back seeping through the metal. The anger was brief; it had been proven ineffective in the past, against the isolation Mokou had faced. Desperation followed.

"Let me out ! Open this fucking door !" Mokou was screaming, pounding her fists against the still searing-hot metal frame that was resurfacing so many traumatic memories. Kaguya felt a rush. This was pure sadism, she wasn't looking for any more lies to pretty it up, to pretend that it was anything else, to claim innocence. She had dropped her pretences when Eirin made her admit that all she cared about was not breaking the relationship, not Mokou herself. She was a terrible friend, lover, person. Right now, she didn't care. She was feeling an elation in her heart with each desperate shout, each pounding fist, a feeling that she wouldn't have traded for anything, no matter how vilifying she knew this was to her self-image. It was time for her to ignite.

Mokou's cries had become more pleading as hope had started to drain. The demands to be let out were now pleads for help; every please made Kaguya's heart feel like it was about to burst with the indescribable feeling of elation her sadism brought her. She reached a hand down between her legs. It was time, time to strike a new match, flick it over and over, letting friction ignite it. It was always better when she lit the matches herself, when she held her own tools in her hands. More control. She was on fire, her heart racing, her ears bathed in the cries for help, cries that she had caused, that she was responsible for. Mokou was breaking apart on the other side of the door; this was the consequence of Kaguya's actions, the result of her power over Mokou. This was the feeling she had been seeking : the feeling of control over Mokou, the knowledge that she could break her down if she so wished. The match was tantalisingly close to the fuel. This was my influence. I caused this.

And then, finally, what she had been waiting for : her name. Mokou had started calling out specifically to Kaguya; no longer was she spouting out empty threats to the vague entity she held responsible for her imprisonment, she was now specifically imploring Kaguya to help her, to rescue her from the situation that Kaguya had orchestrated in the first place. Kaguya had the power to destroy, and still be heralded as a potential saviour, a final hope. This was the power she was seeking. This was what let her finally drop the match.

She ignited in an instant. The explosion she had been holding off all this time shook her body, travelling through her before finally escaping her mouth as a moan she couldn't quite contain. It left her shaking, having burnt away everything inside her but an unbridled bliss. She held that state for a while, a content smile on her face as she caught her breath, Mokou still screaming less than a metre away from her.

She had had her fun. She had caused an explosion, she had fractured eternity into another segment. She was content of her destruction; now, it was time for her to take credit as a saviour.

Leisurely, she got to her feet. Stretched. Took a few steps away from the door, creating plausible distance. Then, she did her best to sober herself up, to take a serious tone, one of worry (difficult, considering she was still tingling all over), before running back up to the door, shouting.

"Mokou ! it's ok, it's just a power outage ! I'm going to try to get you out, just hang on !" She could have laughed at her own hypocrisy, yet all Mokou heard was the voice of hope coming to deliver her from despair. Her desperate yelling double in intensity, imploring Kaguya to help her, to save her, to let her out. Kaguya had never seen Mokou let herself go to this extent before : there was no trace of the usual confident detachment Mokou liked to project. Trauma prevailed over pretences, it seemed.

Kaguya strolled over to the keyboard, stroking it gently once she arrived in front of it. Eirin could be useful, after all. She had been right to hold back on destroying all the screens, to hold back information from Mokou. Aren't I smart ? Aren't I always proven right, in the end ? And yet, the time had come for her to stop playing with her food, to lift the pot from the stove, letting it cool down. She typed another short series of numbers, with another meaning agreed upon with Eirin. And thus they had communicated, silently and wordlessly; just the bare minimum for Eirin to know she had been an accomplice to Mokou's suffering, and just enough for Kaguya to hold Eirin as responsible.

Wave by wave, the doors released their grip and unlocked themselves, the lights came back on. The bathroom door opened, and Mokou fell out onto the floor, naked and wet with both shower water and tears. Kaguya rushed over to her, shouting it worked; the bare minimum amount of context needed to place her as the saviour, the one responsible for freeing Mokou, who she knew would be too distressed to search for the why or the how. She held the sobbing immortal in her arms, stroking her long, wet hair in a comforting gesture, muttering calming platitudes whilst Mokou thanked her over and over again in between wailing sobs. Kaguya was thankful that Mokou had buried her face against her dress : she was completely unable to hide the grin that had forced its way onto her face.

Hours passed, hours of comforting embraces and reassurance that it was over now. They had ended up in bed, and Mokou, exhausted from emotion, had given in to sleep, held between Kaguya's arms. Kaguya, too, was considering letting herself drift off, although she had been too busy congratulating herself on her success to do so yet. She was satisfied, at peace; she had gotten everything she wanted. She was awful, irredeemable, undeserving of any of the trust Mokou had placed in her. So what ? She had enjoyed herself immensely, and gotten away with it, too. She was free from consequences; why wouldn't she do what would bring her this much pleasure ? She closed her eyes : she didn't want to overstay her welcome in the realm of consciousness, not when things had been going so well. She felt herself start to drift off, escaping from her crimes into a restful sleep, free from the guilt and the consequences she ought to have had to deal with.

And then, she was shaken back into reality by a horribly loud noise. A tremor rocked the ship, the sound reverberating around the metal walls, stripping her of her relaxed state.

There had been an explosion somewhere in the ship.