For a place that had 100 prisoners, the Ark had a shitty security detail. Atalanta moved up and down the hallways undetected, sidling among the commotion of the prisoners. All she had to do was swipe her father's old guard uniform, and she was practically invisible.

It's not like her father would miss it. He stepped down from his position a few months ago, preferring a lab over an armory. Which sucked for Atalanta, because if her dad was still apart of the guard, he could've just arrested his daughter himself. But now Atalanta had to do it the hard way.

She needed to get on that ship. She was eating with her friend Wells when he mentioned his father's intentions to send the prisoners to the ground, and she didn't hesitate to react. Neither did he.

Earth: it was a suicide mission and she knew that, for her father was at the head of the research team that concluded that Earth wouldn't be safe for another 100 years. However, she had no other choice. She immediately started forming her plan on how to get on that ship.

Her and Wells decided to get arrested, for Wells knew that Clarke Griffin would be on the ship. Atalanta also knew Clarke, but she had different reasons to be on the ship. But apparently getting arrested wasn't as easy as the ones in the Sky Box made it out to be: much to Wells' pleasure, only the chancellor's son got arrested, and Atalanta was left to form another plan.

It wasn't hard to find the drop ship. Atalanta heard the prison break from the other end of the Ark. Stiffening her posture in the awkwardly large uniform, she hastily made her way down the hall, brimming with 100 prisoners and just as many guards. She narrowly avoided bumping into one of the guards as she searched the faces of each one of the prisoners, her heart throbbing in her throat.

Nope. None of them were him.

She sighed in defeat, but quickly recovered, extremely aware of the guards around her. She knew that she had nothing to lose: if they caught her, they could just throw her on the ship anyways.

Or she could get floated, her 18th being only days away. The odds of her getting to Earth were slim, so she tried to remain low key.

With a growing sense of panic, Atalanta tucked her chin to her chest and dutifully walked down the hall. If she looked like she belonged, maybe they wouldn't realize how small and odd she was compared to the other guards. Fake it until you make it, she kept at the back of her mind.

Peering up over her eyebrows, she tried to calm her nerves. "Almost there," she whispered to herself, lowering her head again. Maybe they already put him inside. Maybe she would find him then. She would see him again, get to hug him again, and they would survive togeth-

"Oomph," Atalanta exhaled as she bumped into something hard. She had automatically apologized on instinct before she realized what was happening.

She was caught.

Inside, she froze, panic taking control and rendering her immobile. She gulped down a heavy breath. Slowly, she lifted her chin, forcing herself to stay calm.

In front of her stood a man in a guard uniform, although he was more of a boy than a man. And Atalanta didn't recognize him, which she found strange. She thought she knew all of the guards from confrontation at one time or another, and her father had introduced her to many.

But here he was, just outside of the Exodus ship, a complete stranger. That gave Atalanta some confidence, knowing that he couldn't have recognized her either. Fake it until you make it, she reminded herself. She raised her head higher, looking him in the eye. There, she found something that she thought mirrored herself: fear.

Atalanta cleared her throat. "What is your business here, sir?" She mentally thanked her voice for not betraying her. It remained steady.

The boy readjusted his stance, and Atalanta regretfully noticed that he was much taller than her. He blinked, and the fear was gone from his eyes. What was left was a fixed facade of purpose. Atalanta wondered whether she imagined his fear or not, his gaze now so firm.

"Kane wanted me to patrol the prisoners at the entrance," he said, his voice even smoother than Atalanta's. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly. Something about him just didn't seem right. He was very convincing and intimidating, like a guard should be. Except something was off, she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Her breathing slowed, but she covered herself with a lie, something that came easily to her. "With all do respect, sir, he told me to monitor this entrance. I can relieve you from your duty, if you'd like."

"With all do respect," he replied, only slightly mocking her. Atalanta narrowed her eyes. "I'm fine at my assigned post."

She had no other choice than to nod. "Suit yourself."

As the last prisoner entered, Atalanta positioned herself on the other side of the door, feeling like she was trying to swallow a golf ball. Beads of sweat formed along her hairline and crept down her face, only making her apprehension worse. Carefully, she glanced over at him, only to find that he was glancing back at her. Startled, they both looked away as soon as their eyes met.

She had made it this far only to be stalled by this one boy, who didn't really frighten her, but he did make her uncomfortable. She was almost positive that he wasn't a guard, but she couldn't risk being wrong. Maybe he was a Cadet.

She glanced at him again, more secretive about it this time. He stood with his hands latched behind him, the justified stance of a true guard. This threw her off, but didn't stop her suspicion. She had always been good at reading people, and she felt like she could see right through him. She just needed evidence.

She looked at him thoroughly, her mental clock ticking. That ship would launch at any minute, and she could tell that the boy knew it too. His shoulders rotated around in uneasiness.

And that's when she noticed it.

"Excuse me," Atalanta spoke up, unable to stop her smirk. Got you, she thought. "What's your name, Commander?"

He waited a second to reply. "I'm a Cadet."

"Ah, ok. Because, you see, you don't look like a Commander," Atalanta pressed, tapping her chin with her finger. She teasingly circled around him, looking him up and down. "That uniform does look a little big on you... Too big to be a Cadet, even." She moved back to her spot, cocking an eyebrow at him as if to say "your move."

He gave her a skeptical once-over. "I could say the same about you." His uniform wasn't even oversized. It actually fit him quite nicely. But Atalanta needed an accusation, even if it wasn't a true one. In defending himself, he would expose himself. Her dad had taught her this.

But instead, the boy had exposed her. Atalanta opened her mouth to argue about her baggy clothes, except he had used her move against her. Before she could say anything, he cut her off.

"And you don't have a gun," he pointed out. Apparently he had been secretly examining her the same way she had him.

"And you do?"

He flashed her his gun at his hip, and she closed her mouth. They stood still, holding each other's gaze firmly. Neither of them dared to break the eye contact, refusing to lose the silent stand off.

Down the hall, Atalanta heard someone give a launch warning. The ship was getting ready to go. In the boy's eyes, she saw anxiousness, and she knew that he saw the same in her.

"I'm getting on that ship," he said finally. She vaguely noticed his hand hovering over his gun, and she gulped. Was he threatening her?

Atalanta tried to appear unfazed. "So am I."

And with that, his hand moved away from his gun, and he made a face at her. "Why didn't you say so?" His posture was still as stiff as a pencil, still threatening.

She crossed her arms over her chest, not letting her guard drop even though she had no idea what was happening between them. "Why didn't you say so?" Repeating what he said. That works, right? Her dad never taught her what to do in this circumstance.

He paused for a minute, but then he narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you doing?"

Atalanta straightened her posture, raising her chin. This was a question she could give a straight, confident answer to. "Protecting someone I love."

His gaze shifted, and he finally relaxed. "So am I."

With a sigh that released all of her tension, Atalanta let her shoulders drop, and she stepped back from the door with a small smile. "Well, after you, then." She was almost incredulous, wondering why it wasn't that easy to begin with.

The boy stared at her for a minute and then chuckled. "Alright," he said. "See you on the ground."

He released a humorous half-smile as he passed her, reaching for the entrance. He sent her a nod as he ducked under the door, and once he was in, he extended an arm to help her in after him.

Atalanta took his arm, relief pouring over her as if a fever was breaking. He had the same look on his face, and she only caught his eye for a second before he turned on his heel and disappeared into the ship. She stood and watched him go, and once he was gone, she grinned and shook her head to herself. Atalanta made a mental note to find him once they were on the ground.

But first, she would find what she came here to protect.

The doors shut behind her, and she barely managed to grab onto some restrains before the Exodus shift was launched into space.