It had been some time since Crimson had left to speak with the Prime Minister, and the batch was starting to feel a twinge of worry—though they'd never admit how much they cared for her. They were surprised to discover just how much she meant to them.

"Ugh, why isn't Crimson back yet?" Rwecker grumbled, leaning against the bunk with an air of impatience.

Hunter sighed and rubbed his nose. "I'm sure she's fine. I mean, we've seen her decimate a whole village before; she can handle herself."

"I would hope so," Tech chimed in, his eyes narrowing. "For all we know, she's engaging in a battle upwind."

At that, everyone turned to Tech, their attention piqued. He pointed out the window, and they rushed over. In the distance, flashes of battle erupted high in the clouds, crackling with the energy of a storm.

"What in the Force does she think she's doing?" Crosshair muttered, frustration lacing his voice.

Hunter's resolve hardened. "We need to get up there and bring her back," he said firmly, taking a step toward the door. But Tech, his brow furrowed with worry, swiftly interjected.

"Wait," he cautioned, his voice laced with urgency. "There's a severe buildup of electricity overhead. If we attempt to fly up in the Marauder, we'll be ensnared by that storm. The chances of making it back are slim, if not impossible."

Wrecker let out a deep sigh, his hands fidgeting anxiously. "So, what do we do then?" he asked, frustration mingling with concern as he searched their grim faces for an answer.

Tech tapped his chin thoughtfully, his gaze flitting nervously to the storm raging outside. "We can call her and wait for her to come to her senses," he suggested, though his tone lacked conviction.

Hunter exchanged a knowing look with Echo. They both understood the gravity of the situation; if Crimon—known to them as Nyx—was engaged in battle, there would be no stopping her. She was relentless, hunting her enemies until they lay defeated or begging for mercy.

Echo sighed, rubbing his brow with a weary hand. "I worry that she won't stop," he admitted, the weight of the looming storm evident in his voice. "Not until she's finished what she started."

They heard a cry of pain, a raw, haunting sound that sent chills down their spines. All four of them rushed to the window, their hearts pounding in unison. Outside, a dark mass billowed and writhed, smoke curling ominously as it descended toward the water.

"Crusoes," Hunter muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of fear and resolve igniting in his chest. Without hesitation, he bolted out of the room, the others hot on his heels.

They stormed down the corridor, the air thick with tension. Tech's mind raced, calculating their options. Wrecker's fists clenched at his sides, ready for a fight, while Echo's cybernetic eye whirred, analyzing the scene unfolding outside. They needed to act fast—they couldn't let Nyx face the oncoming threat alone. The storm might rage, but they had to be there for her, no matter the cost.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

The pain I felt wasn't natural; I knew that. Some stupid cruiser had gotten too close and fired its blaster at me, leaving my wing smoking and torn at the edges. "For the stars," I snarled, frustration boiling within me. "I should've killed the officer of the New Empire before it even started."

With a surge of anger, I twisted, driving my fist into the raging sea. The moment I hit the water, it enveloped me, rushing into my lungs, filling them hard and fast. Panic surged as I struggled for breath, my body instinctively fighting against the overwhelming force of the waves.

I had to fight through the darkness closing in. I needed to regain control. Summoning what remained of my strength, I kicked hard, pushing myself up towards the surface, desperate for air and for vengeance. No one was going to stop me—not today.

I sputtered as I broke through the surface, wings thrashing wildly. The good one fought to keep me afloat, while the damaged one hung limp, dragging me down. My tail twisted in the water, fins flaring out in a desperate attempt to stabilize. My ears flicked as I glanced up at the torn clouds, scanning for threats. The cruisers were gone. I hissed, a low, menacing sound, "They probably think they finished me."

I turned my gaze toward Tapioca City, my sharp eyes catching the familiar silhouette of the Marauder ship hovering above. The distinctive whir of its engines reached my ears, a sound I knew all too well. I was not lost. I knew exactly where I was.

The Marauder soon soared toward me, its shadow cutting through the dark waters. When it found me, the crew lowered a rope, and I gripped it tightly. They lifted me steadily, and I landed with a wet thud onto the ramp, dripping and exhausted. I heaved myself up and staggered into the ship's interior.

Hunter was there, concern etched on his face. He wrapped a towel around my shoulders and asked, "Are you alright?"

I let out a hollow cough, seawater spilling onto the floor as I shook my head. "I—I will be," I managed, my voice rough. I snorted, shaking myself off, sending a spray of water across the room. Crosshair yelped as droplets hit him. "Ah, sorry," I grunted, feeling a pang of guilt before limping toward the bunk hold.

"Bring her some tea," Tech suggested, his voice calm and authoritative. I eased myself onto the floor, curling into a smaller, more manageable shape as instinct took over. The Marauder, while spacious enough to house four humans comfortably, would never be large enough to accommodate me in my full dragon form. It was a testament to their determination that they had managed to drag me onto the ramp at all. As I lay there, my scales still dripping with seawater, I marveled at their resourcefulness.

Hunter entered the room, a steaming bowl of tea in hand. "Thought you might appreciate something warm; those waters are ice cold," he said, setting the bowl gently beside me. He crouched down, his presence a comforting contrast to the harshness of the recent ordeal.

I sniffed the tea, detecting a soothing blend of peppermint and strawberry. I lapped it up eagerly, savoring the warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold that had seeped into my bones. When the bowl was empty, I nudged it aside and settled my head on my foretalons, exhaustion overwhelming me.

"Hunter," I grunted as he stood up, the soft clink of his gear echoing in the quiet room. He hummed in response, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Why do you guys keep coming back for me?" I asked, my voice barely more than a tired whisper.

Hunter's expression softened, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean? You're one of us now."

I shook my head, the quills on top of it trembling with the effort. "I'm not. I'm not even the person you knew before."

Hunter sighed and moved closer, his hand reaching out toward me. "Crimson, just because you have a different name and maybe a changed form doesn't mean you're not the same dragon we met on Salucami," he said gently.

This time, I allowed him to touch me, his hand warm against my scales. The gesture was a small comfort, a reminder of the bond that had once connected us.

"But I'm a monster. I mean, I nearly killed Stasmisnter," I said, my voice heavy with guilt.

Hunter sighed deeply. "There's no reason why you shouldn't have done what you did. The Kaminaorens have seen your ship; they know what you're capable of."

I rested my head against his chest and began to purr softly. "Thank you, Hunter," I murmured before drifting off to sleep. Hunter smiled and gently stroked my head. "Always, Crimson," he replied, his voice a soothing promise in the quiet room.