Disclaimer : I do not own Storm Hawks, Deltora, or any names or references from Bionicle.

BEFORE you read this fic, there are some things you need to know ahead of time. This story won't be happening on Atmos, but rather on Deltora. In this world, there are eight continents, and Atmos is one of them. Atmos is still as the creators imagined it and the show shows it.

I have also made up a few new races. It would be best to read the text below:

Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human.

Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human.

Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human.

Now you may move on to the story.

Light streamed in through beaten metal slats into the room, one of the five bedrooms on the small carrier ship. It was a genuine mess, clothes everywhere, coupled with scattered and rumpled posters that had slipped their tacks. The owner of the room was up, hurriedly shifting through his pile of clothes in nothing but pajama pants. Light blue eyes filled with a innocent excitement flicked about, while the male Blizzarian sniffed at a shirt to see if it was clean. Discovering it was, he wriggled into it. The white cloth stood out against earthy brown fur, and the blizzarian teen didn't hesitate to slip on his usual brown leather jacket. After finding a suitable pair of gray trousers, Lehvahk put them on and then headed for his mirror. Forgetting to watch his footing momentarily, he tripped over a spare belt and rolled to the floor.

"Crap," he muttered, but Lehavhk remained unfazed, his good mood undamaged. Hurriedly he got up, swept his dark brown hair into a desirable state, then ran out the green plated sliding door.

The hallway was dimly lit from the old lights, and the walls were marred with rust, brown water stains and dents. Rails ran along the walls at waist height, broken by only four doors, one leading to the kitchen, the others to bedrooms. A final door led to the ship's bridge.

The Strikeflier was a small ship only consisting of two levels, contained in a narrow main body supported between two pontoons. The carrier's plating was lacerated with scars, running down and across everything-the pontoons, the roof, the impellers. Sheets of new metal plating had been smelted and bolted across more damaged areas. The painted red designs and wolf head on the left pontoon helped take eyes away from the ancient carrier's appearance flaws, but didn't completely hide them. The tips of the pontoons were a brown red color very close to dried blood.

It was down the hall and into the kitchen for Lehvahk. He burst into the kitchen in a bright display of enthusiasm, bounding over to the refrigerator. In the process he managed to accidentally brush one of his friend's backs, whom was sitting at the small table.

Or maybe, 'friend' was too strong a word to use when it came to the ties between Lehvahk and Takar. The blue furred kerion instantly tensed when he felt the contact, his bad temper flaring.

"Don't touch me," he growled out, peering at Lehvahk past his shoulder length hair. It was dark brown and scraggly, clearly showing the lack of regard Takar put into it. The look in his red eyes was sour and moody. Although sitting, it could be seen that he was fairly tall, more so than anyone else on the ship. He wore a t-shirt under a long black trench coat, black pants, and large brown boots. The ill-tempered kerion wore fingerless gray gloves on both hands. His left ear was pierced with two silver rings, delicate looking inch long chains hanging from each. "Why the hell are you full of even more enthusiasm than usual, anyway?"

"Shouldn't it be obvious?"

Takar raised his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. "Not to me."

"That's right," Lehvahk snorted, popping toast into a old beaten up toaster. "Because you can't see the joy in anything, for the god's sakes."

This prompted a growl from the pilot. Gripping the back of the chair in one hand, he stood up and menacingly loomed over Lehvahk. Knowing that Takar wouldn't hesitate to physically punish him, Lehvahk yelped and cringed against the counter, while frantically thinking of a way to escape the predicament.

As it turned out, he received the hoped for salvation. Before Takar could bring his raised fist down, the kitchen door slid open and a slimmer green scaled hand had grabbed his wrist.

"Hold it!"

The tone of the voice was sharp and commanding. Although Takar could have wrenched his arm free after some twisting, he didn't move. Lehvahk took the chance to inch slowly to the left, then flee the room.

With his original target out of sight for the time being, Takar turned his glare on the interfering varon who held his wrist. Fearon met his furious red eyes with clam yellow ones, even though he had to tilt his head upward to see eye to eye with the taller kerion. His figure was slim and wiry, while Takar had slightly more muscle. His hair was black, streaked through with some barely noticeable gray and on one side, faint marine blue. It just touched his shoulders, and the teen wore a light gray shirt and darker gray cargo pants. His left ear was pierced with a single silver ring, instead of one each like Takar's own ears.

For a short time the two stared each other in the eye. Takar, still simmering, finally spoke to break the silence-and get away from Fearon's accusing glare. "Can you really blame me?" His tone was dark and serious, showing that the pilot wasn't joking in the slightest.

"Yeah, I can," Fearon said back, his tone stern and reprimanding. It caused Takar to look even more angry, but Fearon didn't stop talking. "We need to show we can work together when we go before the Sky Knight Council. They aren't going to want to see bickering teammates-it'll already be hard for us to get registered as teenagers."

Takar's tensed shoulders relaxed. Tentatively Fearon released his arm, not entirely sure if the kerion would decide to brawl with him in Lehvahk's place. He reached over and snagged a piece of toast, beginning to eat it. Lehvahk has one to eat still, anyway, he thought.

"Do you see my point?" he muttered past the bread in his mouth. Fearon mainly seemed to be conveying his opinion through his eyes, as they were fixated keenly on Takar's own. Despite himself, the pilot felt the disapproval start to get to him, although he kept his face expressionless.

"Fine."

After the short reply, Takar turned and strode out of the kitchen. Fearon reminded standing in the same spot for a few more moments, eyes on the doorway. The he plucked up the second piece of toast, and set off to find Lehvahk to give his friend breakfast.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lehvahk had made it to the bridge in what seemed like four seconds flat. It was certainly a unwelcome shock to Somra when the blizzarian sharpshooter ran up and tried to hide behind her.

Somra's midnight blue scales were dusted in some spots from bomb powder, as were her black vest and deep purple shirt. The rahkshi teen had been working with the said explosive object, and had been heavily focused on the task. So much that Lehvahk's sudden action had caused her to fumble with the bomb, causing her to nearly drop it.

"The hell, Lehvahk!" she snapped. Her red eyes flashed furiously as she rounded on her teammate, who had pressed himself against the wall. Lehvahk kept shooting furtive glances toward the bridge door, then looking back at Somra nervously. "Do you know what could have happened?"

"Um, it would fall?" Lehvahk suggested weakly.

Somra snorted in irritation and tossed her ponytail of silver hair back over her right shoulder. Then she answered the question with a sneering and mocking quality. "Or it could have exploded, numbskull! You can't count on a explosive being a dud!"

The lone observer to this event shook his head and sighed. He looked largely like a gray furred blizzarian, with the exception of two small horns poking from his brown blonde hair. His muzzle was a little longer and more angular than a normal blizzarian's, and his eyes were a bright green. He wore a simple shirt that had holes and tears in many places, like his blue cloth pants. The figure under them was lean and bony. He yawned and stretched, then spoke up with the intention of becoming the peacemaker in the situation.

"You can't really blame Lehvahk for not knowing, Somra. The bomb could look plenty dead to him, it isn't his area of knowledge."

"Nowhere's his area of knowledge," Somra grumbled in response.

"Hey!"

"Enough." Rahk looked up and nodded acknowledgment to the leader, who was leaning on the bridge doorframe with a amused glint in his eye. Yet as he watched, the glint faded, and Fearon directed his gaze out the window. "Prepare to leave in a few minutes," he continued. "I'll meet you in the hanger. Lehvahk, can you go find Scout?"

Eager to escape Somra's searing gaze, Lehvahk jumped at the chance. "Aye aye!" he was gone in a rush of displaced air.

Rahk raised an eyebrow and stared after the hyperactive marksman. "He's sure being helpful all of a sudden. Maybe it'll be a running theme."

"He won't be hauling his lazy ass up regularly," Somra snorted. "It's just that he wanted to get away from me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x

Scout was dozing on the roof of the Strikeflier when he was found by the team's ecstatic sharpshooter.

Scout was a visorak, a creature that lived in marshes and swamps. All visorak had the same general body shape – long and slim bodies and tails, hind legs like a t-rex, a lizard head crested with spines, and forelegs tipped with nimble paws that were as adept as hands. While most visorak were dull browns, grays and back so they could blend in with the environment, Scout's colors were a vibrant rarity.

He was stretched out lazily on the Strikeflier, the old carrier ship's worn metal pleasantly hot against his crimson red scales. Scout's half open eyes were a rich dark green. He had also been gifted at birth with the ability to breathe fire.

Scout was having a pleasant dream about playing in the surf when the door that led to the Strikeflier's observation deck swung open on it's creaky hinges. At first he paid it no mind, thinking that it was simply someone coming out to enjoy the sunshine. Even as Scout's hazy mind registered that footsteps were climbing the ladder to the roof, it was too late. His nap was about to be rudely interrupted.

The crimson visorak was hauled from the pleasant metal surface abruptly as arms slipped underneath his forelegs and wrapped around his chest. He let out a startled, indignant squawk, kicking at the air with his hind legs.

Scout was answered by a good natured chuckle. He stopped kicking and twisted his neck, staring into Lehvahk's blue eyes. Propped on his hind legs, Scout was nearly as tall as the sharpshooter.

"It's time," the Blizzarian replied, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Sorry it's interrupted your nap."

The visorak churred sullenly, looking down at the Strikeflier's roof. He could see the heat rising form it in lazy ripples, and longed to envelope himself in that cocoon of heat again. But he knew this could not be so, even as Lehvahk began to drag him off the roof.

XxxxxxxxxxxXXX

Just a little note on how old these OC'S are, and what their last names are-

Fearon Redskye-17

Somra Kyln-16

Rahk Triddar-17

Takar Byreflame-18

Lehvahk Tranen-16

Please comment and tell me what you think of them. :D the chapter after this is better than this one, I feel. Writing in first person proved to make a better chapter. Feedback will encurage me to post it. :D

~dharak