A/n: I actually wrote most of this ages ago, and only picked it up recently and finished it. I seem to only write missing scenes when I'm annoyed at a character...

Lena and Mahad sat on top the cliffs of Puerto Angel, letting the cool breeze flow over them, and the sun warm them. The afternoon was one that tended to make a person feel lazy, especially lying down in the grass, doing nothing but think over the days events.

"I can't believe my Mosquito broke down right at the start of the race!" said Mahad, though the conversation before hadn't really led to that topic.

Lena smirked. This must have been about the fifth time he'd randomly mentioned it. She didn't make an attempt to stifle her giggle; Mahad would just think she found his continued angst amusing. Which she did, but she was laughing because she knew the reason the Mosquito had 'broken down'. Go Cheng.

Mahad sighed, deciding to not even attempt to retaliate. In truth, he was less stressed about the incident than he had been before. Even though he had technically 'lost'. Technically. At least Lucretia hadn't hung around to rub it in and Lena would just get bored soon. He was still the best wave sailor in Skyland. He just seemed to be having a hard time proving it.

Maybe, Mahad mused, they should have an event using ships like the Saint Nazaire. He smirked. He doubted many people had practice catching a wave in such a huge vessel. Or surviving.

"Hello, Mahad."

The voice came from behind the two siblings. Mahad tensed immediately, all his calming down in the cool air now for nothing. Damn it. He should have known Cortes wouldn't let this go.

Lena rolled over from where she'd been lying down on her belly in the grass.

"Lena," Cortes nodded, his voice slightly kinder.

"Hi…" Lena smiled, still a little nervously. She also knew why Cortes was here. She'd hear about it all tonight. "You know…" she said, standing up. "I've had enough sun. I'm going to head down to the tavern."

"Don't let us keep you," said Cortes.

Lena quickly headed off, leaving the two alone.

Mahad pushed himself to a seated position, and dusted shreds of grass and dirt from his pants. Cortes sat down beside him, and simply waited, staring off into the sky.

Mahad settled, crossing his legs. "So…" he said eventually, uncomfortable with the silence, though suspecting Cortes did it on purpose.

"That last gravity wave, Mahad," said Cortes, cutting him short. "Cutting the engines and taking it like that… you probably saved both us and the ship."

"Heh…" said Mahad, nervously shrugging. "It's not that hard…"

Cortes turned to face him, staring at him hard and angry. "The Albatross, on the other hand…"

Mahad let out an angry sigh. He'd almost believed Cortes' compliment. Now he knew it had just been to make him feel worse about his transgression.

"Problem already?" Cortes growled, not liking the interruption.

Mahad paused, deciding on the wisdom of pushing it now. "… no…" he said, swallowing. He couldn't defend himself until he'd heard Cortes out.

"You were given a mission, Mahad," Cortes continued, "You left in the middle of it to go surfing." He paused, looking at the boy. He wanted an explanation.

"Look… I thought it would be okay. There was a lull. I thought Cheng could handle it."

"So you could go surfing?"

"It only happens like that once a year!"

"And what? That's a good enough excuse to leave a ship I promised you would protect defenceless?!"

"No! I didn't know they'd run into trouble…"

"That's not the point!"

Mahad sighed. "Fine! I made a mistake alright? But it's okay! Everyone is okay!"

"The block lost it's only water carrier! And what if it hadn't been okay, Mahad?"

Mahad bit his lip, and looked down at the grass.

"There was every possibility that under those conditions more people could've been hurt. What if the Saint Nazaire couldn't get past the debris to get them off before the waves really hit?"

"But that didn't happen…"

Cortes huffed, angry. "Why aren't you getting this?!"

Mahad gritted his teeth. "Maybe you're just not explaining it well enough…" he growled.

"People could've died because of your antics, Mahad!" Cortes snapped. "What is there to explain!?"

"I know, alright!" He paused, breathing heavily. "I get it… I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done it if I'd realised things would go bad." He sat staring at the grass, trying as hard as he could to avoid Cortes' gaze.

Cortes sighed, and took the moment to calm himself. "I know you didn't put them in danger on purpose. But that is not the point. You can put people in danger, just because you put them in a riskier situation. Even if you think you can handle it. If things go wrong it's so much harder to fix than if you'd just played it safe. And sometimes there's no going back."

Mahad still wouldn't make eye contact with Cortes.

"I'm just afraid you're not going to figure out exactly what that means until you get somebody killed."

Mahad looked up at him sharply. "I wouldn't let that happen…"

"It never has anything to do with 'letting'," Cortes snapped. "You're like your father, you know. You always think things are going to be alright so long as…"

"Oh, so now this is about my father?!" Mahad could just barely handle Cortes having a go at him, but his family on the other hand…

"Mahad…"

"My Dad was a great leader!"

"Even 'great leaders' make mistakes, Mahad," said Cortes. He actually sounded less angry than Mahad now. "I don't want to see you make those same mistakes."

Mahad blinked, and looked back out into the sky, getting his thoughts together. "And just what are you blaming my father for that you're so scared I'm going to go and do the same thing?"

Cortes huffed. "You're father took too many risks. At least one too many."

"What does that mean!?"

"He picked too big a fight! It was a trap! We took our whole fleet into it! Marcus even knew it was a trap; he just didn't get how it would spring right. That fight led to the rebellion's downfall…" Cortes trailed off. "People died… but that's not what we're talking about."

"You're the one who brought up Dad," Mahad growled.

Cortes was quiet for a moment, and Mahad almost felt bad.

"Forget it…" Cortes said finally, pushing himself up from the grass. "Just forget it."

"Cortes…"

"What?" Cortes paused, staring down at Mahad.

"I'm sorry. Really."

Cortes didn't reply for a moment, instead looking off to some point out in the sky. "If you're really sorry," he said eventually, looking back at Mahad, "you won't do it again." With that, he turned and headed back towards the village.

Mahad frowned at the Captain's retreating back, unsure whether to be angry or otherwise. Eventually, he settled on some amount of frustration, and ripped up a clump of grass in his fist before slamming it back into the dirt. What did Cortes want from him?