A/n: I've been wanting to write something like this for awhile... you'll find out exaclty what in subsequent chapters. ;)
The Saint Nazaire drifted through the blue skies, now barely a few minutes from its final destination – Puerto Angel. The bloc would likely be in visual range once they passed through this next cloud. It would be a relief. The last half hour before reaching home always seemed the longest.
Cortes drummed his fingers against the side of his Captain's chair, ever so slightly restless. Around him, his crew were going about their respective tasks on the bridge in near silence. Their last mission had lasted nearly a week and Cortes knew they were all ready to go home. He was too.
"Are we there yet?" Mahad asked, breaking into the silence, and quite accurately voicing what most of the crew were probably already thinking.
Cortes could hear Dahlia let out a groan from the front of the bridge. This almost made him smile, but he managed to contain it in favour of growling at Mahad. "Show some patience, Mahad. Or at the very least, make yourself useful…"
Mahad stepped halfway up the small set of stairs to the Captain's chair. "That doesn't answer my question."
"Tough."
Mahad groaned and bounded back off the stairs and towards the back of the bridge, muttering something under his breath.
This time, Cortes did let himself smile ever so slightly, but only because Mahad couldn't see him. For once, he was managing to annoy Mahad more than Mahad was annoying him. A small feat, but enough to bring that small smile nonetheless.
"Oh, so we are nearly there…" Mahad grumbled. He was now looking at their position on the bridge's central console.
"I could've told you that," sighed Lena, who had been on the console anyway.
The console let out a blip noise.
"Hey, Cortes… we're receiving a distress signal…" said Mahad.
Cortes stood up. "From where?"
"Sir… it's on our frequency…" said Wayan, "I… think it's Puerto Angel."
It was at that moment that the clouds parted before the pirate's vessel to reveal their home bloc. Half its side was aflame and smoking. Five or six Sphere patrollers could be seen in the air space around it.
"Full stop!" Cortes barked. "Get us back behind that cloud!"
"What?!" Mahad balked. "Are you saying we're not going to help?! I don't know if you noticed… but that's Puerto Angel!"
The Saint Nazaire backed up, and the stricken bloc disappeared behind a wall of white.
"The formation those patrollers were in… they've finished the attack, they should be leaving," Cortes snarled, his whole body tense. "We can't afford to be seen."
"So we just let them get away?!"
Cortes gritted his teeth, and forced himself not to answer.
"That's it; I'm getting a Mosquito…" said Mahad, turning to the bridge door.
"You stay where you are!" Cortes snapped, halting Mahad in his tracks.
"The patrollers are pulling away, Sir," said Dahlia.
"Have they seen us?"
"I don't think so," Dahlia growled. "I don't think the bastards are looking."
"Yeah, that's great," said Mahad. "So we're safe here, underneath our rock…"
"You would prefer I engage those patrollers and bring the full might of the Sphere down on us and whatever they've left on Puerto Angel!?" Cortes snarled.
"They can't come if we destroy them all!" said Mahad, as if it were obvious.
"The Sphere knows they're here, they will come looking for them if they don't return! Destroying them won't undo the damage they've already done; it'll only make it worse. We can only hope it wasn't too great…"
Mahad didn't reply, and Cortes momentarily wondered why he felt the need to justify himself to the boy. Perhaps it was because he himself really wanted to tear those patrollers out of the sky, perhaps even more than Mahad did.
"Captain…" Wayan interrupted. "The patrollers are gone. We should go help."
Cortes thought for a brief moment, hearing nothing but his own heart pounding. "Give it five more minutes," he eventually said, grudgingly.
He expected Mahad to argue, but surprisingly, he never did.