Disclaimer: I do not own Storm Hawks.
This chapter is a tad shorter than the others… but it needed to be written [not that it particularly wanted to, mind; the damned thing put up quite a fight….
Hopefully, a few questions you all have in the back of your minds will be answered… Nor not. [Insert evil laughter here.
Please review! The next few chapters will [with luck be amazing [I hope….
Chapter Seven: Prison Life
Piper woke next to the familiar shape of Junko. For all she knew, it was still night outside; the cells they were held captive in allowed for no light save useless, tiny crystals embedded inside the rock that formed three walls of their cell, and a small, currently covered, window in the huge door (made using the same metal most airships used, she'd noticed) of the fourth wall.
A draft carried itself under the door and chilled Piper. Beside her, Junko shivered in his sleep.
Lucky for her, the draft also carried voices. Over the fortnight or so of their capture, Piper had learned that the guards were careless with their information.
"…So, how's it going with that chick?" one guard asked.
His fellow forced a laugh. "Oh. That. It was… okay, for a while…!!" A far-off clanging sound made him gasp. Now the first man chuckled.
"What, afraid Cyclonis got out of her cell? Or that the Dark Ace is after us?"
The man laughed louder and ended with a sharp "ow!", as the other guard had apparently hit his friend. "Hey, shut up! You never know what Cyclonis could've kept down here…" He stopped, as if listening for any other mysterious sounds. "And they say the Dark Ace is dead."
"Oh? His ghost, then, protecting his master even in death…" Now they both laughed. The sound became more faint as the pair moved on, perhaps to another cellblock.
The short conversation wasn't as interesting as Piper had hoped. Other chats had given her and Junko more information; over the nights, they'd learned that they were being held in some basement cell of Cyclonia, a crucial piece of information they had missed upon their capture; Piper still shuddered to think of it, but they'd been roughly blindfolded the entire way, and Junko had been knocked out several times due to his brute strength. The Wallop still carried a few faint scars to prove it.
Apparently, Cyclonis herself was among one of the prisoners. It was odd for Piper to think that the girl she had once known as a friend was also the cruel master of thousands of people; it was even stranger to think that the same person was being held close to where she and Junko now lay.
All in all, Piper hadn't gleaned any new information from the conversation. She and Junko had only found out about the Dark Ace's supposed death several days ago. Honestly, Piper didn't know if she should be sorry that so talented a fighter, perhaps the only Talon capable of standing his own against the Gyrfalcon units, was dead, or glad that the man responsible for countless Sky Knights and Atmosians finally got what he deserved.
Assuming, of course, the Dark Ace wasn't still out there, playing a coward's role in a quickly transforming world.
Just remembering her capture made her head swim with anger.
The last thing she could clearly remember before her vision turned red was an image of Ravess and Snipe, not protecting their Master, but directing the Gyrfalcons. With Zaric's help, they had captured her with little damage to themselves (though, and the thought soothed her anger a bit, a few other Scavengers hadn't been nearly so lucky).
Thinking about her own ignorance made her fists clench until blood rose past the broken skin. Recognizing some of the faces of the Scavengers and the fighting Gyrfalcons made her teeth grind with resentment. Simply seeing Zaric's face, as often as he "visited", made her want to choke the life out of everyone she thought she had trusted.
She knew she might never get that chance.
Still, she acted like everything was going according to her own plans when Zaric came round to check on her. He usually left with a scowl on his face, and she usually stood grinning through the small window of the heavy metal door, her only source of light.
After all, Cyclonis was still Master of her private cell, stripped as she was of her power and personal items. They'd taken everything from her, from the crystal she kept around her neck to whatever random bits of shit she'd had in her pockets, and clothed her in a tight, horrendous jumpsuit.
Two weeks ago, perhaps longer, they had brought her to the bowels of her own kingdom and to the same crystal-less, reinforced cell she had designed. She knew there was no escaping it, save liberation or death; given the situation, neither were options.
For a few days, it had seemed there was another option, though. One of the Scavengers gave her enjoyable news: there were loyal Cyclonians and Talons among the Scavengers and Gyrfalcons. Some, like the man himself, posed simply as workers, though there were many others among the squadrons. They worked mainly to spread the word to Cyclonians elsewhere in the Atmos, to tell the rest of her people that hope was not lost.
She was surprised to learn that some of these scattered civilians had not even known about the occupation and takeover of Cyclonia. For whatever reason, the Scavengers were keeping it hushed.
A day or so afterwards, the same man had returned, this time with a tray of food that he slid through a slot in the door, and more messages.
There was one bit that struck her as odd: The Dark Ace was missing—apparently Zaric had kept his word and visited his "old friend"—and was presumed by many to be dead.
Her most loyal minion also happened to be the most powerful in the skies. If he was truly defeated, once and for all, then, well—Cyclonia as she had planned it was screwed.
The food-bearing Scavenger had brought her more messages over the following days, mostly concerning where the main Gyrfalcon forces were stationed and Ravess' and Snipe's last known whereabouts.
Only a few items were more interesting: The Scavengers had begun to jam all radio transmissions, including their own. In her free time, Cyclonis had figured that their ground- and air-troops were given orders ahead of time, and were expected to carry them out unerringly unless told otherwise, in person, by someone of higher authority. There would be little to no room for sabotage or a coup of any kind. And, it almost guaranteed chaos to follow any Gyrfalcon unit; damage to any rebel terra, Cyclonian or Atmosian, would be multiplied instantly.
Cyclonis herself doubted she could've proposed a more perfect plan.
But the loyal Cyclonian man hadn't appeared for several days. The Scavengers who tended to her were ordered not to speak with the prisoner—how Cyclonis despised her position…—and every food tray was thoroughly examined by a trusted official before given to her. Unfortunately, it eliminated the chance of receiving any news.
Or so her captors had planned it. In the first days of the first man's absence, a few others had risked their lives by writing messages on bits of paper, which they stuffed into her food.
The last message had been written and received nearly a week ago. Whether the Scavengers had managed to weed out disloyal members, or by some coincidence her Talons hadn't been chosen for the week's shift, Cyclonis didn't know. She could only wait and plan schemes for revenge she would probably never see come to reality.
The sound of laughter cut through the silence as a guard or two walked near her cell. Cyclonis found the noise annoying; if her shackles allowed for easier movement, she would've clawed at something, anything, simply to drown the sound out.
"Oh, that was a good one," one of the guards muttered as the laughter died down. His fellow shushed him, and the two walked silently, freely, past Cyclonis' cell.
