She should have pulled the trigger. I think she should have. But she didn't.
I smashed my fist against the gun, and it was out of her hands, crashing into metal somewhere.
"Ash!" she screamed, and raked her nails across my face.
She kicked up her knee, and fire exploded in my groin. I fell forward, slamming her down on the deck, and threw my entire dead weight across her shoulders.
I didn't have to. Her head had hit the deck, and she lay unconscious, blood seeping out through her hair.
She wouldn't talk to me. She lay on her bunk, her chest rising and falling under the straps I'd buckled around her.
I tried to explain, to make her understand, somehow.
"Pat, I've got a responsibility to the people I work for. I've spent the last ten years keeping characters like Harry Thorsten from taking over this System. It's a rough job, and it's a dirty one. I can't help that. I don't like it. Pat, it's got to be this way."
She wouldn't talk to me. She wouldn't listen. I walked out of her cabin, locking the door behind me.