Draco: Remember when I said we weren't going to do a chapter for the fourth verse because we were able to make the third one a satisfying conclusion? The obvious corollary to that is that we couldn't make the fourth one a satisfying conclusion.

Note the past tense.

Black Rock Shooter and all related properties © huke. Plot concept © The Longest Johns.

"Listen to that storm. Should count our blessings we made port before it got too bad."

Karl's comment was punctuated with a boom of thunder; Tenma groaned into his pint, slamming it down on the counter. "Oh, yes, let's be happy the ship that took a full broadside to the sodding powder stores was still able to fire enough steel at us that we had to make port instead of continuing out of range of the storm."

"Only a fool would hope he could outrun a storm," Karl reprimanded.

"You sail under someone like that long enough," Tenma muttered, "you start hoping for the impossible."

"Come on, boys," scolded a woman's voice from nearby, causing them both to start in their seats. "You came out of that fight alive. Be happy for it, and shut up and drink your pint."

Neither Tenma nor Karl could work up the courage to look at the voice's owner. "Aye, captain."

Captain Artemis took one last bite out of her apple before tossing the core into Karl's mostly-empty mug. "I'll be calling it a night," she proclaimed. "The Dawn should be done repairs by morning. We leave as soon as the sun is up, am I clear?"

"Aye, captain," they chorused again, and said nothing more until her footsteps had retreated towards the rooms.

The barmaid stepped up once she was gone. "With a captain like that, maybe you should count your blessings." She seized Karl's mug. "Let me get you a clean cup."

"You got anything stronger?" Karl asked. "Maybe being a little drunker will get me to sleep sooner."

"Old man's got some good moonshine I could dig out for you," the barmaid admitted.

Karl threw his coin purse on the counter. "Does it come in pints?"

The barmaid picked it up. "It does for her crew."

She made her way towards the back room - and no sooner had she stepped in than the tavern doors flew open, slamming into the wall. The scattered crew of the Falling Dawn turned towards the entrance, concerned that the latch had given way against the wind, only to find a large band dressed to sail stepping inside. The white-haired man at the head of the group narrowed his gaze at the doors, letting his compatriots file in before seizing them and wrestling them closed again; another man helped him get them shut, and only once they were latched did the two make their way to the counter as the rest of his group found open tables.

"Is this seat taken?" asked the second fellow, a brown-haired man whose face looked younger than his build.

"Please take it," Tenma insisted. "Before she comes back down."

The white-haired man took the next seat over. "Good night, Rothcall, it's the bar at a tavern, not a table at a restaurant. If there's not someone sitting in it, it's not taken."

"Right, right, sorry." The younger man, Rothcall, took his seat. "Still getting used to this."

"Used to what?" Karl asked.

"Privateer's life," Rothcall admitted. "I was a farmer down on his luck not that long ago. Then the Brunhild sails into port, and they're accepting anyone willing to learn."

Nobody had the chance to say anything more before the barmaid came back with a bottle and a couple of mugs. "Here you boys are," she said, handing them their pints. "And what can I get the rest of you?"

"That depends," Rothcall replied, "how many hands in the kitchens?"

"Enough to get everyone here a meal," the barmaid assured him, "don't you worry."

"Whatever you recommend, then," the white-haired man insisted. "Nobody here's picky about what fills their stomachs."

With a nod, the barmaid stepped into the kitchens, and Tenma spoke up. "How long you been in that crew?"

Rothcall hummed. "What's it been, Marion, two years?"

"Coming up on three," replied the white-haired man, Marion. "You took to the cannons and the boarding defense well enough, but when it comes to conducting yourself in port, you've still got a lot to learn."

"He's only been on the ship three years and he's manning the cannons?" Karl exclaimed. "Your captain is either desperate or mad."

"Well, she's been desperate more often than she cares to talk about," Marion admitted. "One crew abandons her in a strange port, one mutinies on her and throws her overboard, and neither of 'em left her with more than the clothes on her back." He shook her head. "But her and her first mate make sure the whole crew can do the whole job, and if you're willing to learn and you don't mistreat your crewmates, you're worth trusting with the jobs that need doing." He shook his head. "Hell, the quartermaster's been on the ship a year less than I have. But she's better at making sure everyone's cared for and in order, so she gets the position."

Tenma and Karl traded looks. "You said anyone who's willing to learn, right?"

Rothcall nodded. "That's one thing, yeah," he admitted. "But I don't remember the whole spiel. You'd have to take it up with the captain."

"And which one is the captain?" Tenma asked.

Marion huffed. "Speak of the devil..."

The doors were flung open again - but this time a pair of steel-clad hands managed to seize them before the wind could throw them into the wall.

"...and she'll bring company."

Once the doors' momentum had died off, the hands holding onto them released, letting them waver in the wind for a bit as three figures stepped inside. One was a woman whose garments seemed like they were designed to give her full mobility rather than cover her up; brown hair hung down and over her shoulders, a cutlass was hanging from each hip, and across her back was strapped a rifle with a bayonet affixed to the underside of the barrel. Another was a woman with hair that looked like it had been bleached by the sun, though it was mostly obscured by a heavy hood; her top seemed to lack sleeves, probably to avoid getting anything caught in the metal gauntlets that reached halfway up her arms, and a pair of pistols were holstered on her hips.

The last figure was dressed in a long black coat that was left open, revealing thigh-high black boots, a pair of short black shorts, and black bindings around her chest. Her hands were covered by closed gloves that vanished into the sleeves of her coat, and a black eyepatch rested over her left eye; a pistol was holstered on one side, and a blunderbuss was mounted on her back. Her hair was drawn into two unequal tails - the one on the left tapered off at about shoulder length, while the one on the right extended almost as long as her arm.

The hooded girl let the other two step inside first before seizing both doors and shoving them closed at once. Rothcall smiled as they approached the bar, offering one hand, and the woman with the eyepatch met it with a high-five and a small smile of her own before she and the riflewoman took seats on Marion's other side. That was the last chair at the bar on that side, so the hooded girl took the stool on Karl's other side with a sigh. Kitchen workers began to file out a moment later, and the barmaid came out with a couple plates that she set before Rothcall and Marion.

"Here you are, boys." She glanced at the new arrivals. "What can I get you three?"

"A pint of anything," the hooded girl said. "And I'll need a pitcher with the biggest handle you've got."

"Just something with meat," the riflewoman said. "As long as it's hot when it gets here."

"...Whatever you recommend," the woman with the eyepatch asked, her voice quiet.

The barmaid nodded, heading into the back. Tenma glanced between them before asking, "Which one of you is the captain?"

The woman with the eyepatch turned.

"Heard you'll let anyone onto your crew who's willing to learn," Tenma mused. "Don't suppose you've got room for a couple poor sods who are desperate to get away from a bitch of a captain?"

"I'd point out that the crown tends to look down on deserting one crew to join another just because of disagreements," the riflewoman pointed out. "But the only other ship in port was flying a black flag."

"Got us there," Karl conceded. "Thus the desperation." He shook his head. "Honestly, the pirate's life has been going downhill on us for a while now. We had one captain for a couple decades, and things were smooth sailing, but as soon as Saya bit it-"

"Saya?!" The hooded girl's remark drew the men's attention - and they found a shocked look of recognition decorating her face. "You can't be... Karl? Tenma?!"

"Wait, Yuu?!" Tenma couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What the hell-!"

A smirk rose on Yuu's face. "Fate is a cruel mistress, having us cross paths again."

"You bitch!" Karl snapped. "Things have been going wrong ever since you ditched us in Nueva Noche!"

"What," Yuu demanded, "you mean when I left you two with the ship and the crew to carry on whatever you wanted? Because you didn't want to change when I said you shouldn't be abusing your crewmates?" She set one gauntlet-clad hand on the counter and looked over at the riflewoman. "I'm not so sure we should let these ones in, Yomi."

"No kidding," Yomi muttered, glaring at Karl and Tenma. "What exactly is it about treating a new recruit with kindness that you took issue with?"

"Kindness doesn't run a ship, you dumb bitch," Tenma growled. "The Dawn can't afford to let some newbie man the cannons or join in combat!"

Yomi huffed. "Funny, the Brunhild could afford it just fine. My first week had me holding a cutlass and fending off would-be boarders. Wasn't long before I had enough courage to jump aboard the enemy ship with Phobos and the others, and none of our crewmates suffered for it."

"Like hell they didn't!" Tenma retorted. He turned to the captain. "Stupid bitch probably doesn't even know what suffering is, if she's gonna act like some first-time gunner isn't slowing her crew down in-"

The captain slammed a fist to the counter, shaking the plates and glasses sitting there; she turned a glare on the two, and they fell quiet. The barmaid came out not long after, setting a pitcher down before Yuu with a pint of drink in it before handing Yomi and the captain their plates; the captain pulled one of her gloves off to begin eating, and Tenma was about to turn back to his moonshine before he noticed something on the captain's fingers.

Scars, encompassing the breadth of her fingertips - and the tissue seemed to have formed right up against her bone.

"...Mato?!"

A sigh emerged from the captain's lips. "Tell me again that I don't know what it is to suffer, after what you two and Saya did to me."

"You've got to be shitting me!" Karl exclaimed. "How is it that some bitch who gets upset at scrubbing the decks has made out like a bandit, and the ones who know how to sail get spat on by fate?!"

"You worked my hands down to the bone," Mato growled. "Promised me gold, and adventure to quicken my heart, and then made me a slave for fourteen-odd years. And the moment my body started to break down, you abandoned me in a port I'd never seen before, without so much as a coin to my name. Everything I have, I earned with the sweat of my brow - because the rest was stolen from me, by the likes of you."

"Likes of us?!" Karl sputtered. "You mean the likes who know what it takes to survive on the sea!?"

Marion reached into his pocket and drew out a coin purse, handing it to the barmaid and jerking his head towards the door to the kitchens.

"Survival came just fine for those of us who treat our fellow man with decency," Yomi argued. "Mato saw to that."

"No, this is bullshit," Tenma snapped. "Like hell some cowardly brat has turned into a captain that puts Saya to shame!"

"Hey, now," Rothcall argued, "Captain Mato deserves everything she's gotten - she's made sure every last one of us benefits from-"

"The hell she does!" Karl retorted. "Stupid bitch doesn't know anything about being on a ship!"

"If I didn't know anything when last we saw each other," Mato growled, getting to her feet, "it's because you refused to teach me. And you have no reason to believe I haven't spent the years since learning, the hard way." She stepped around Marion and Rothcall to stand before Karl and Tenma. "So why do you take issue with the idea that I want to prevent others from suffering the same? Why do you think there's something wrong with making sure everyone on my ship can do everything that needs to be done? What exactly is it that you find so outrageous about my successes?"

There was a thud in the air; Mato stumbled back, and the entire Brunhild crew shot to their feet when they realized Tenma was on his feet with a hand out after a punch.

"We didn't bring you onto the Dawn so you could succeed!"

He brought his other hand back to take another swing - but Yuu caught his knuckles in one gauntlet-clad hand, ripping at his skin as it fought against the metal joints. Tenma managed to wrench his hand free as Karl came up on Yuu's side, but Rothcall grabbed his arms from behind and made to lock them behind his head with a loud "No you don't!"

Tenma drove an elbow into Rothcall's arm to loosen his grip, giving Karl the freedom to kick him between the legs and leave him tumbling back; Yomi immediately lunged forward and kneed Tenma in the stomach, allowing Yuu to grab him by the back of the shirt and slam him to the floor. Karl trying to go after Mato found him intercepted by a dark man wearing little from the waist up, who socked him hard enough to loosen his jaw before kicking him backwards towards the bar.

Karl managed to seize his glass and lash it towards Mato - and the spray caught a candle on the edge of the table.

The rush of flames caught everyone by surprise as the moonshine ignited, burning a bright blue as it splashed against Mato. For a moment, the Brunhild's crew panicked - but Mato was still soaking wet from the storm outside, and that moisture denied the flames any purchase... save for her eyepatch. The blaze consumed it, framing the left side of her face in brilliant blue flames... but Mato only reached up and pulled it away slowly, letting the burning patch fall to the floor.

Then she opened her eyes - both unscarred, undamaged - and glared at Tenma and Karl.

"So, the idea of someone rising above their suffering is so unbelievable to you, is it? Saya abused me for being the new girl, and you threw me out on her orders, and you're surprised that I lived on? You think that my life doesn't fit together with sense, because little Mato is a privateering captain?"

One foot moved to come down on her burning eyepatch, extinguishing the flames under her boot.

"Then a curse upon you, too."