The sight of three Destroyers being prepped for takeoff met them upon their return to Cyclonia, an air of organized chaos permeating the cavernous hangar bays as soldiers hurried through their preflight checks. Dark Ace snagged a Talon by the back of his collar as he ran by, pulling him up short. "Report, Lieutenant."

"Sir! Terra Gale is under attack! Governor Plovers has requested assistance."

Dark Ace released him and hurried to the throne room with Lark, where they met a dour Master Cyclonis.

"It seems the Triumvirate has made my decision for me," Tanager said, after a perfunctory greeting.

"Is that what they're calling themselves?"

"Despite it being clear that Boreal is the one pulling the strings, yes," Tanager said dismissively, before continuing. "They're targeting our factories on Gale. What's more, the Rebel Ducks are taking this opportunity to stir up trouble, and even that crackpot hermit has joined the fray."

Dark Ace smiled darkly. "It sounds as though someone needs to go and remind everyone of who Terra Gale really belongs to."

"In no uncertain terms," Tanager agreed.

"I will see it done." Still smiling at the prospect of a decent fight, Dark Ace turned and headed back to the Destroyers.

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"I trust you found your time on Terra Mire to be educational," Tanager said, turning towards Lark once Dark Ace had left the room.

"I did," she answered simply, looking up at him, and for the first time noticing how old he looked. She had not seen him in so long; and her new sight gave her a deeper understanding of the people and objects around her. She could sense the strain her grandfather was putting on himself in his attempt to appear more vital than he actually was. It was writ in the tight lines of his face, in the concentration of energy around his shoulders as he forced himself to stand ramrod straight.

Her new awareness of his condition must have shown, because his mouth thinned, and he turned away from her, staring out the window. Not for a moment did he let his façade slip, despite the fact that there was no one left in the room to impress. It was not his way.

"I regret your training with Lamiya was cut short."

"It was enough."

"I hope that proves true."

"It will," she answered forcefully, feeling a sudden stab of resentment towards the man in front of her.

He looked at her, then, raising an eyebrow at her tone. His lips twitched, the barest of movements, as if finding a smile too foreign an expression to even form, let alone maintain. The attempt did nothing to quell her anger at his doubt.

"If you don't mind, I'll be in the crystal lab," she said, not wanting to be in the same room with him right at that moment.

"By all means," he granted, sweeping a hand towards the door.

She nodded, and walked out without another word.

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Pandemonium reigned in the skies above Terra Gale.

Upon spying the Cyclonian Destroyers, the Triumvirate ships had broken off their bombardment of the Gale factories and opened fire. The Destroyers responded in kind, and the fight for Gale was on.

Dark Ace led a squadron through the corridors of The Swooping Hawk, on their way to the cargo bay and the sky rides within. The ship shuddered with each hit it took, making the attempt difficult. One particularly large blast sent half the squad sprawling, but they scrambled quickly to their feet and ran on.

Once their rides had been retrieved, Dark Ace punched in the code to open the bay doors, and they flew out into the open sky in a tight, disciplined formation. Talon squadrons from the other Destroyers were riding out, as well, and soon the Triumvirate sent their own squadrons out to play.

They raced towards each other, two groups flying in the same formations, wearing nearly the same uniforms. The one great difference was the new Triumvirate shield: a purple talon clutching three lightning bolts. Almost as one, the two groups scrambled, each pilot choosing their target.

Two Triumvirate soldiers flew towards Dark Ace. He drew his blade, activating its energy field. The two young soldiers, close enough now to clearly see whom they were bearing down on, glanced at each other, their eyes wide. Quickly, they turned their Switchblades and gunned their engines, fleeing the battle. Laughing, Dark Ace followed.

The two led him on a merry chase, zigzagging through the air in an unsuccessful attempt to lose him. They dove down through a pocket of heavy cloud cover, and he followed. Almost immediately, an unnaturally strong wind hit him, making it hard to control his ride. The two soldiers ahead of him were having an even more difficult time. One lost control of his ride completely, veering into his compatriot. They both went spiraling down towards the Wastelands.

Squinting, Dark Ace could make out a figure on a small patch of terra below. It had one arm raised towards him while the other pulled the lever on a catapult. He dodged, and what looked like an old engine zoomed past his head, missing him by mere inches. With a growl, he dove. His target turned out to be a man in ridiculous makeshift armor, whose voice carried well on the wind as he shouted up at the sky. "Keep killing each other, you dogs! Cyclonia's war will be Gale's freedom!"

Dark Ace lashed out with his sword, a move that would have separated the man's foolish head from his body had he not had the sense to throw himself flat. A crystal went flying from his hand at the impact, and the wind let up.

"Grandpapa!" a young voice yelled, as a girl no older than Lark ran out of the small house to check on the man. With a more warlike yell, she threw a crystal at Dark Ace. But he was moving too fast. It missed him, exploding harmlessly in the air where he had been. He kept moving. He had more important things to deal with.

Rejoining the main fight, he slashed his way downward, towards the fortress. Radio contact with Plovers and the ground forces had been cut off by the Triumvirate bombardment before the reinforcements had ever reached Gale. He'd have to go to them, if they wanted to coordinate their attack.

As he got closer to the ground, he had a good view of the damage that had been done. Factories lie in ruin. The fortress had a large hole ripped in its side, through which many of the factory workers were making their escape, helped along by one of the more dangerous escapees, the Sky Knight of the Rebel Ducks. Elsewhere, part of the roof had caved in. Much of their air defense had been destroyed, the operators of the few remaining cannons fired blindly at anything that moved in the sky.

As he watched, another member of the Rebel Ducks flew towards one of the cannons on a stolen Cyclonian sky ride. He dodged the blasts aimed at him and got close enough to toss a red crystal down the muzzle. The cannon exploded, sending its Talon operator flying. He hit the ground, not moving.

The Rebel Duck flew on, targeting another operational cannon, and Dark Ace went after him. Charging up for his signature move, he aimed the blast at the stolen vehicle. The engine suffered a direct hit, and the rider was thrown off, rolling as he hit the ground and grabbing an abandoned energy staff as he came to his feet. With a wordless battle cry, he charged towards the nearby cannon. The operator, seeing him coming, panicked and ran.

Dark Ace sheathed his blade and retracted the wings of his sky ride, passing the Rebel Duck and jumping off of his Switchblade near the fleeing operator. It came to a skidding halt nearby as Dark Ace ran after the Talon. He caught him in a few steps, spinning him around and punching him in the face. The startled man staggered back with a cry, hands flying up to cover his nose. "Get back to your post, soldier!" Dark Ace commanded. "And if anything happens to my ride, I'm holding you personally responsible."

Without waiting to see if the Talon complied, he turned. He drew his blade once more as he charged towards the Rebel Duck, who had yet to reach the cannon. They arrived at their destination at the same time. The other man raised his staff, ready to strike at the cannon. But Dark Ace blocked the blow. Before the other man could react, Dark Ace kicked him, hard. The man doubled over, the air driven from his lungs, his grip on the staff loosening. In one fluid motion, Dark Ace sheathed his blade and grabbed the staff, jerking it away from the man. He dealt him a sharp blow to the head, knocking him unconscious. Handing the staff to the bloody-faced Talon, who had indeed returned to his cannon, he grabbed his Switchblade. He turned it towards the fortress and sped off, nearly running down several fleeing prisoners in the process.

He drove into the fortress itself. There was little point to civility, now, with the place coming down around their ears. Time was of the essence. He found Plovers in the command center of the fortress. A portly, aging man, he was screaming at one of his underlings to get the radios fixed.

When he looked up and saw him, his expression seemed to freeze somewhere between relief and fear. "The Dark Ace!" he said, voice strangled. "Have you got them on the run?"

A sudden, shuddering boom answered the question far better than Dark Ace could have. At least one of the Triumvirate ships had begun firing upon the terra, once more.

'-irate De…oy…falling ba…' came over the radio of Dark Ace's Switchblade. He went over and adjusted the frequency. 'Repeat, Triumvirate Destroyers falling back. Disengage.'

A few more explosions sounded, parting gifts from the Triumvirate forces. But after a few moments, there was silence.

"We won?" Plovers asked.

"Hardly," Dark Ace answered sourly. "They accomplished what they came here to do. Time to clean up the mess."

He revved his engines and left Plovers and his staff behind. Another portion of the ceiling had caved in, blocking him from leaving the way he had entered. He had to pick his way through debris-covered halls, looking for another exit.

Once outside, he surveyed the damage. Fires raged everywhere. Smoke choked the already polluted air. A trio of smokestacks stood testament to the survival of a single factory. The rest had been reduced to rubble. It was a wonder that parts of the fortress had remained standing, at all.

A Destroyer had landed, and Talons were rounding up prisoners and forcing them into the ships. Some would be relocated to other prisons and factories throughout Cyclonian territory. Others would be held until it was time to rebuild. Those who weren't part of the prisoner roundup were organizing themselves into firefighting groups.

It was going to be a very long night.

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Author's Note: First off, I'm sorry I didn't get this chapter out a little sooner. Action is hard for me, so fight scenes take me forever to write. Next chapter should be relatively peaceful, but then I have another fight planned for the chapter after that, so we'll see how things go.

Also, yes, this was an extremely Lark light chapter. I dunno what happened. I had thought her scene would be longer, but then she up and stormed out of the room. There was nothing I could do. Kids. Oi. I promise she'll be featured prominently in the next chapter. ;-)