Yeah, I'm back! The final installment is here. And to those of you who know what I'm talking about...My muse has returned from retirement.

A'ight, get to reading, my people!

It wasn't a dark cell, but it was lonely, nonetheless, and Aerrow leaned against the wall, chewing on his lip. The window was barred, and any light that found its way in was cut into pieces, until only a few jagged rectangles cast their hues onto the earthen floor.

Spark was asleep in the cell next to him; he knew because her heavy breathing drifted through the cracked walls and rusty vents.

He tapped on the wall between them.

"Hey, Spark. Up and at 'em, young lady," he said.

"Five...more...frigging...minutes..." she muttered. "We're in frigging jail. I can frigging sleep in if I frigging want."

"Someone's in a bad mood. And don't curse, Spark, it doesn't suit you." He sighed. "Where's Button?"

"How should I know?" He heard her cot springs creak as she turned over. "Now let me sleep, okay?"

"You mean Button might still be out there?"

"UGH! What part of 'let me sleep' did you not understand?!"

"I think it was the 'sleep'..."

"Not funny."

"At least you're awake..." He smirked. In his mind's eye, he could picture his daughter's flaming red hair quivering in indignation.

"What...ever." He heard her footsteps, muffled against the dirt floor. "Maybe we can try getting out of this piss-"

"Spark..." Warning tones were embedded in his voice.

"Fine. Maybe we can try getting out of this...'lovely establishment'. Can't Junko punch a few holes?"

"In six feet deep walls? I think not."

"Oh. Well, I had to ask." He heard her snort. She's so rough and tumble. My fault...

He yawned and stretched up, fingertips scraping the ceiling. Then he went back to his wall, leaned against it again, and started to doze...

"NIGHTWING!!"

"Shut your yap, Gaeli," he mumbled, turning over in bed. "It's only...What time is it?"

"Nine o four, so if you don't get your sorry little butt out of bed NOW, there'll be hell to pay!"

"Fine, fine, fine." He yanked himself from the warm and inviting sheets and stood. She disappeared from the tent opening, magenta hair fluttering behind her. He splashed cold water on his face and peeked outside.

The sun was already high in the sky, and climbing. Talons were on the move, nameless faces scurrying around the camp. He stifled a yawn, strapped on his armor, and moved for the skimmers. There would be no breakfast this morning.

"Morning, sir."

"Haydon..." He acknowledged his adviser with distaste; Haydon was a slippery man who did nothing without reason. And that reason normally involved himself getting more power.

"Sir, developments in the prisoner's status."

"Ah, you mean the thief." He tried to keep his voice calm.

"Yes...A certain...Coon?" Haydon looked at his commander with inquiring, bleak, eyes.

"That would appear to be her name, Haydon." Nightwing turned to face the old man. "How is she?"

"She's eating, sleeping, and drinking quite normally. But she's asked to see you."

"Oh, has she now?" Ready to talk, aren't you, oh, sister of mine?

A few days ago, Coon had raided the Cyclonian supply wagons and was caught. Upon further investigation, she had revealed her bloodline. A bloodline intricately tied to Nightwing's. Which meant...

Well, he wasn't sure what it meant.

But he knew it was bad.

He dismissed Haydon and started for the jail.

Coon wasn't the least bit surprised when Nightwing poked his head into the prison.

"Here to gloat, or here to listen?" she spat.

"Depends. Are you here to talk sass, or talk...information?"

"Hmph. Touché."

He pulled a wooden stool over with his foot and sat down, staring at her with red eyed intensity. She stared back.

"What I have to say involves you, me, and our father. That's it. No one else will know...Correct?" She shuffled around the cell impatiently.

"Correct."

"And that includes your girlfriend."

"What? She...Gaeli..." He sighed. "Whatever."

"'Whatever' is not an answer," she huffed.

"Yes. Yes, okay?" He leaned against the stone wall. "NOW...talk."

"Fine." She sat down on her cot, closed her eyes, as if remembering, and opened her mouth to speak. "I was born on this terra, Gale, twenty three years ago. Most people in the slums don't get to be my age. They die early. But I had my mother..." Coon paused.

"Go on."

"She...helped me. Kept us both alive. And even under Cyclonian rule, she stayed strong. But her profession didn't allow for a lot of 'mother-daughter bonding', you know? So I stayed with odd people, sometimes even sleeping on the streets. I never spoke the Gale language; ma wasn't from Gale originally and I talked like she talked. I begged, lied, cheated, and stole. You probably think I'm a criminal, but I see it otherwise. I did what I needed to do in order to stay alive.

"Well, I always grew up thinking my father was some odd man she happened to pick up somewhere...And I never gave it much thought. I only found out a few years ago. I was nineteen. And she was...sick. I don't know what it was, but I knew it was bad. She couldn't work anymore. I just did my best to keep her warm. It was winter...and winters on Gale aren't fun.

"One night, close to the end, she said she needed to talk to me. About my father. You could imagine my shock. She had never spoken about him before; why now? And she said I needed to know...before she moved on. So I sat beside her, that cold, stormy night, and listened as she told me...that my father was the commander of the men who stole our terra. She always thought of Gale as home."

"And Dark Ace?" Nightwing was anxious to know.

"She said he came here on a recon mission. Met her in a bar. One thing led to another..." Coon shrugged. "She loved him, you know?"

"What?"

"She did, really. My mom was lots of things, but one thing she wasn't was a liar. She made for a lousy thief. That's probably why she did what she did."

"And you? Did he know about you?"

Coon shook her head. "There, that's it. Story of my life. Can I go now?"

"One more thing. Your mother...what was her name again?"

"Rose. She died a few hours after telling me. I...don't even know where she's buried." A single tear slid down Coon's cheek.

He almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

Nightwing turned and left. On his way out, he ordered the guard to set her free.

He could always catch her again.

He was the cat...and she was his mouse.