Disclaimer: I don't own Skyland. Oh well.
A/N: Usual request: Please review.
Chapter 13
News spread quickly around Puerto Angel once word got out that Oslo was still alive. Lena had been extremely fortunate in that the general assumption was that the would-be dictator had managed to deceive the young girl when he faked his death. Her failure to realize said deception was chalked up to the very forgivable fact that she was barely thirteen years old and had spent the majority of her childhood on a rather sheltered farming block. The young seijinn was also extremely lucky in that those who knew better failed to correct this general misconception. No one particularly wanted Pratucci to find out any different from the generally accepted version, for example.
That didn't mean that they had to be happy about it, though.
Cortez in particular had not been impressed with his young crew member's conduct and he did not keep it a secret. Like his crew he had not contradicted the assumption that Lena had been ignorant of their arch-enemy's survival but he had also spoken no more then was necessary with the girl since the discovery. When he did it was with gruff orders. Lena noticed quickly and began to feel sheepish. The young seijinn didn't particularly like it when the captain was angry with her; she was normally the one mediating between him and her brother and was unaccustomed to being the one on the receiving end of his ire. For the first few days she gave him a wide berth but after they had been back at home for a couple of days she was fetching her mother some baking supplies when she had to pass by Cortez standing at the railing along the outside of the back of the tavern.
"Hi Cortez," she said quietly as she put down the bag of flour and cautiously walked over to rest her arm on the railing that the captain was leaning on. He nodded. She looked down slightly "I guess you're still mad at me,"
Cortez said nothing, but he didn't really have to. Lena looked down and shuffled in place sheepishly. Cortez glanced over at her and sighed.
"Why didn't ye just tell us?" he asked wearily.
"You didn't ask?" she replied, though it sounded more like a question. His raised eyebrow told her that wasn't a good enough answer. She sighed and didn't quite meet his eye when she answered him with a mumble;
"I beat Oslo. I thought that was good enough."
"Well it isn't. You told us that he ended up sandwiched between two of those cubes."
"He did. He just didn't get crushed." She said quietly before adding in a defensive tone, "I didn't lie."
"Ye didn't tell the whole truth, either, Lena," Cortez admonished angrily as he turned to face her "Now he's had months without anyone disturbing him to set whatever plans he has in motion. I don't know what he wants but he has a head start on it,"
The young girl nodded and looked down at her boots, one of which she was scoffing against the floor, the very picture of a guilty child.
"Is there anything else?" the Pirate asked. She nodded again
"Yeah, but this one I didn't tell because I believe him." She replied defensively before recounting what the madman had said about her father.
"I don't believe him, though. If my father were alive, I would know it!" She insisted, her eyes pleading with him to believe her
"Lena, how exactly would you know? You never even knew your father!" Cortez snapped. The young girl flinched at those words. He noticed this and ran a hand down his face wearily, his features and his tone softening as he added "But you're right. He probably was lying."
With that he turned around and walked away. Lena watched him go with her mouth slightly open as though she were going to call after him. She evidently changed her mind and instead bent down to pick up her box of supplies again. The young girl had barely taken a couple of steps, however, when a deep-throated, somewhat malicious chuckle sounded from overhead. She gasped and jumped, whirling around in search of the sound and nearly dropping her box. In recent months she had become unaccustomed to having anyone sneak up on her; her telepathy had been steadily increasing in range and potency to the point where she could sense the presence of even non-seijinns during daylight, even if she couldn't strictly hear their thoughts unless she was focusing. In spite of that, however, she had no idea that the newcomer Dianne was perched on the roof of the tavern overhanging the section where Lena was standing.
"Wow," Dianne chuckled to herself as she shook her head. Lena glared at her and the teenager turned slightly to the side to look down at the younger girl with a raised eyebrow. "You actually believe that, don't you? Guess that what makes you such a good liar,"
The young seijinn bridled at the accusation.
"Who in Skyland are you?! And how dare you spy on me and Cortez?" she exclaimed indignantly, seething at both the audacity of the stranger's intrusion and the fact that her mental shields were so good that Lena had failed to sense her presence. Her fingers clenched around the box that she was holding in irritation. The teenager rolled her eyes when she saw the motion.
"Oh please. Enough with the self-righteous indignation," she groaned as she dropped down from the roof and landed on the floor a few feet from Lena with a slight thud, her now-pony-tailed hair and coat flaring with the movement. "Admit it! He told you something you wanted to hear so you let him go. That's why you saved him from getting crushed. By the way, I noticed that little detail didn't come up. Have any of them figured out that you did more than just 'let him get away'?"
The dark-haired young woman now stood directly in front of the dark-haired young girl, towering over her by about a foot, the two of them glaring at each other with near-identical silver-blue eyes.
"What is your deal?" Lena demanded. Dianne's jaw worked but she said nothing to that, prompting the younger seijinn to lean in towards her aggressively. The other girl didn't give ground. "What do you want from me?"
"*Get over yourself!*" The teenager hissed, her voice strange and echoing suddenly when she lunged forward a little, her eyes and the veins on her neck flashing briefly and her features contorting into a frightening expression. Lena stumbled back a few steps in alarm with a slight cry. The next second, however, the seijinn wondered if she had imagined it because the teenager looked completely normal apart from appearing a little peeved perhaps.
"Get over yourself," she repeated coldly, in a normal voice, as though she hadn't said it already, "That's what I want from you. You have everything. Don't screw it up. You know you have powers, you've figured out they're strong. Figure out that they don't make you invincible or you'll regret in this life and the next. Trust me on this one. Oh, I'm sorry, did I piss you off?"
"I'm fine," Lena snapped. Dianne cocked an eyebrow at her and then shrugged.
"Could've fooled me," She remarked as she strolled around the girl casually with her hands in her pockets. Almost as an afterthought she called over her shoulder "Nice hand,"
Lena's eyes narrowed at this and she initially interpreted it as some kind of pun or something on the other girl's behalf. When she glanced down, however, she dropped her box and once again scrambled backwards in alarm, holding her arms stiffly away from her as she flipped her hands forwards and backwards with a disbelieving "What?"
Her hands and lower arms from fingertip to elbow were glowing the way they did when she was in a fight tossing energy blasts around. But she hadn't been doing that. She had been annoyed, true, but she hadn't even been thinking about doing that, had she? She hadn't even been using her telekinesis to move the box of supplies. She thought of the brief glimpse she had had of Dianne's arms and her eyes snapped up to look at the teenager with wide eyes…except that she was gone. Lena frowned and concentrated on finding her using her telepathy and got a rather nasty shock when she did; a psychic wall unlike anything she had encountered before sent her seijinn senses ricocheting off it with a faint echo of a bird shriek accompanying it, though she did manage to get one fragmented flash; it was a brief glimpse of Prattucci in the square. There was a torrent of rage and terrible blood lust in this brief snippet of thought, coupled with an intense battle over whether or not to act on the violent impulses directed at the man.
Lena shook her head and blinked, trying to center herself again as she concentrated on her hands. Apparently the latest addition to the crew had aggravated her more than she had realized. The young girl took a slow, deep breath in through her nose and closed her eyes, slowly exhaling through her mouth as she centered herself. She focused on pulling her energies back in towards herself, going through several different concentration techniques that some of her seijinn instructors had taught her as well as those that she herself had developed. Eventually the glow faded and died down, leaving her hands blissfully normal.
With that settled, Lena set herself to collecting up the spilled contents of her box and reassembling them. As she did she thought about this new stranger they had brought to Puerto Angel and the unnerving snippet she had just received from her. She couldn't help but wonder if Dianne was too much of a loose cannon to have around, especially now that one of their biggest enemies was on the rise again—admittedly in part because of her. She would have to talk to Cortez about it and maybe even Alice; the other seijinn might be able to lend her a second opinion on Dianne before she returned to her desk job with the Sphere.
But that could probably wait. If the new seijinn decided to try anything Lena would simply take her on. She had taken down Oslo and her powers had only been growing lately. If their guest decided to do anything then Lena would simply take her down. In the meantime, though, she would enjoy herself. She had always liked both baking and eating baked goods and couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to make cookies with her mother.
With her new determination set, Lena picked up her box again and headed back towards her house calmly with a slight spring in her step.
88888
The up-and-coming "Lady of Light" strolled away apparently without a care in the world in spite of the fact that she had what was hopefully a rather disturbing conversation. To her credit, she had been unnerved by the young woman's observation and apparent "disappearance" for at least a few minutes. Dianne felt her reach out telepathically and worried very briefly before there was the familiar light "bounce" of the younger girl's telepathic probe off her shield. She then watched the preteen swing her head left and then right in apparent alarm as she looked for the rather unpleasant teenager who had just intimidated her, or at least done her very best to. When she didn't see her the younger seijinn seemed to give up looking for her very quickly.
"Look up…She doesn't look up, why does nobody ever look up? I just dropped down in front of you from a building and you don't look up!? This is Skyland for crying out loud, it should be an automatic reaction for everyone who wants to live," Dianne muttered as she watched from her perch atop the tavern roof. Next to her a familiar, vaguely avian blue shimmer flitted into the air next to her.
*She was the most powerful seijinn in the world until a week or so ago and still doesn't know that she's been unseated. She doesn't need to look over her shoulder.*
"It's arrogance like that which screws everything up," Dianne growled at the spectre as it slowly slid through the air around her. It scoffed, obviously bored already and restless. The throng of whispering voices that she constantly had to fight to contain buzzed in the back of her mind until one piqued a little louder, grumbling about his business and the "strays" that the captain always seemed to bring back home. The seijinn felt the Phoenix bristle with rage and she felt her face flush and her blood pump a little higher with a familiar fury, the urge to fight, to strike, to sink her claws into the traitor's flesh and rip it apart…
No! Those thoughts were not hers…well not exactly. Alright maybe technically…but no. Not a time to debating semantics, even with herself. She had to get a lid on this!
"What are you in such a rush for? We already had a fight a few days ago, didn't you get enough to satisfy you then?"
:I didn't get him! I WANT him! The traitor!
"And what about the little boy? You want to kill him too?" Dianne hissed at it. The Phoenix seemed to pause a moment as it considered this aspect.
:He's the reason they always find us, his technology is—
"He's their friend here. You're not doing anything to him or to Prattucci. I'm not letting you loose again,"
:Don't tell me that you're not tempted. Even if you don't care about Oslo's pet scientist, don't tell me you don't want that one. Not after what he handed us over to. So don'ttell me you aren't tempted.
"I won't," Dianne murmured, unable to deny it. Even without the Phoenix muttering in her ear all the time she still wanted to throttle the man. But she wasn't about to do that. Who knew, the anti-seijinn jerk might even come in useful to the rebels if she changed things enough. Except… no, no that wasn't good enough for her either. Even watching him she felt a flashback of what he had—or rather would—betrayed her too. She could still remember the fear and the pain as though she were in that cursed place, even after four years. No, this one had to go. He was a liability, not an asset.
Nevertheless, it couldn't be death by seijinn. At the very least it couldn't be allowed to look that way. She still couldn't let It have him. A different fate should be arranged for Prattucci, preferably at the hands of his own black market people if possible. Something nice and predictable where if there was any suspicion about his demise it wouldn't be used for any anti-seizing or anti-rebel causes. In any case, he was not a priority at the moment and could wait. It was not happy at the notion that It was to be denied this kill It so dearly wanted and struggled against Its mental bonds.
Dianne took a deep breath and then closed her eyes. She let out a long sigh, trying to focus and maintain control over herself. Her hands came up to cover her ears. There were just so many people here…she'd spent so much time living with only one or two other people at a time she'd forgotten what it was like to have to shut out so many people both night and day. The latter was by far the more difficult to deal with. Her head was pounding. She had a feeling her fever was on its way back, she was starting to sweat underneath the coat she didn't dare part with. She sucked in her breath and jerked her head as though to try and banish the thoughts from her head.
"We're not doing this," she said through clenched teeth "Not here!"
With that she stood and started to dash across the rooftops, using her powers quickly to flit across the roofs on her way back to the relative safety of the lighthouse attic, once again feeling a pang of longing for the company she hardly dared to keep.
888888
Lena spent the evening with her mother baking cookies. It was almost strange to think that had they done this very activity when they had last planned to they might never have met Cortez or Dahlia; they might still be on Babylonia living in complete obscurity watching over their shoulders for signs that someone had found out Lena's seijinn-secret and living in fear of Guardians. Yet, here they were, meticulously measuring out the ingredients and careful not to waste so much as a drop of the precious liquid ingredients. The mother and daughter laughed and talked about the most mundane things, simply enjoying each other's company as they regularly did since Mila's liberation from Karzem.
"D'you think there will be any left over after we give them to the class tomorrow?" Lena asked as she started to spoon some of the batter out onto the cookie sheet. Since her mother had come to Puerto angel the adult seijinn had set aside some of her free time to help the Vector teach some of the children on the block, in particular the seijinn children who were in residence. She usually managed at least one class a week and her students were progressing steadily. Even Lena found that she might have a thing or two to learn still from her mother.
"Oh I'm sure there will be at least three extra," Mila said with a wink. Lena giggled, both of them finding delight in the relatively simple activity. It was one that they had often done together back in Babylonia, back when things were so much simpler and neither brother nor sister had a bounty on their head. It was strange to think that eighteen months ago she had never heard of the name 'Oslo' and never met a pirate before in her life. Now she couldn't imagine her life without the family they had amassed for themselves at Puerto Angel.
"There," Mila said as they finished filling the cookie sheet. She gave her daughter a wry look and held out the spoon for her in silent invitation, uncertain as to whether or not Lena would consider licking the bowl too childish...
The young girl's eyes lit up and she grabbed the bowl and spoon eagerly, widening her mother's content smile. She reached over and gently moved one of the longer strands that framed her daughter's face behind her ear. It slithered back down right away and the woman shook her head slightly.
"When was the last time you had a haircut?" she asked, picking up the trays using towels to cover her hands and heading for the oven.
"Mmm…a couple months before we rescued you from Karzem, I think. Sanskin did it. He's a pretty good barber," Lena replied around a mouthful of cookie dough.
"Would you like to grow it out or would you like me to do it?" Mila asked. When they had lived on Babylonia Mila had always cut her children's hair both out of convenience and caution; they hadn't had an official barber on the block and she had always been very careful about having her children's rather telling DNA lying about.
"Nah, I like it better short," Lena said, licking the spoon with enthusiasm. Just then the door opened to admit Mahad, Dahlia and Wayan. All three of them were covered in soot and engine grease.
"Hey mom!" Mahad greeted
"What happened to you?" Lena asked
"Oh, the engine connection on that new piece was messed up. We're okay, we just got a face full of soot and engine grease,"
"Hey Mila, I was wondering if you three would like to join me and Dahlia for dinner at our place. I'm making Fettuccini Alfredo,"
"Really? Oh, you guys have to come over then! Wayan's famous for his pasta!" Dahlia exclaimed enthusiastically. When Mila still seemed to hesitate the blonde added "Besides, the two of us managed to get a cream pie off Prattucci and there's no way we'll be able to eat it all by ourselves and Cortez and Cheng are busy tonight. It seems a shame to waste that dessert…"
The corner of the dark skinned rebel's mouth twitched. Lena was notorious for her sweet tooth and Mahad— while surprisingly capable of going hungry for days without complaining if necessary—could be a bottomless pit when food was in front of him.
"Please mom?" Lena pleaded endearingly, more than willing to play the part of the little kid when it suited her. She knew that her mom didn't really want to cook; she seemed tired. Perhaps she hadn't slept well the night before. Mila looked from one of her children to the other and sighed slightly, nodding her assent with a smile.
"Alright," she said, putting her arm around Lena's shoulder and squeezing affectionately in a brief side hug before looking up at the other two rebels "What time would you like us?"
"Whenever you like," Wayan said with a shrug just before Dahlia stepped in quickly
"Uh, why don't you come over in a couple hours? Give the cookies time to bake and cool,"
"Well that sounds just fine to me," Mila said. "We'll see you around 6 or so, thank you. That sounds lovely,"
"Awesome!" Mahad half-laughed in excitement, "Wayan's pasta is the best mom! You are just going to love it! Thanks guys!"
"Go clean yourself up, Mahad," his mother chided, her tone tinted with a hint of a chuckle "If we're going to be their guests you are going to look presentable,"
Wayan and Dahlia both smirked. The blonde rolled her eyes and shook her head, her hands on her hips in a familiar mannerism as they headed out the door. The dark-skinned rebel waved on their way outside
"See you in an hour, Mila,"
"Thanks, Wayan," the seijinn said again as Dahlia and Wayan headed out the door with a wave.
As the pair ambled away they both glanced over their shoulders to make sure that they were out of hearing range before their friendly expressions became more serious,
"So…do you actually have a pie?" Wayan inquired
"No," Dahlia admitted in a grumble "It was what I could think of to convince her. Alice is right, something is off. She doesn't look well,"
"Did she tell you what it was?"
"No, she didn't. I'm pretty sure that she knows what is going on, though. Whatever it is, the least we can do is spare her cooking. Besides, it should be fun," the blonde said with a shrug.
"Course," Wayan agreed. He paused and then asked hesitantly "Think Mahad and Lena have…noticed?"
"To be honest…no. At least, I don't think that they want to see it and she's hiding whatever it is from them. It makes sense, when you think about it. They just got her back. They don't want to face the possibility that something might threaten their family again that they can't fight off with a ship or an energy blast,"
"I guess you have a point. Well, I'd better start cooking," Wayan remarked as they reached the town. This was where they had to go to different parts of town.
"Yeah…guess I'd better find Prattucci and see what favours I'll have to trade in for a pie…" Dahlia grumbled, not relishing the idea of being in a position where she needed a favour from him. The blonde and the trader had never been friends, per se, but they had at one point been friendly towards each other. That, however, had changed and they had gone from cordial to chilly in their dealings with one another. It didn't help that he was so miserly when it came to his black market goods.
"Good luck," Wayan told her sympathetically. She threw him a mock salute and turned a corner to head for the trading post whilst her friend headed back to their flat.
As she walked through the idyllically cobbled streets the blonde couldn't help but think about what Di Wan said. She had rarely stopped thinking about it since their meeting in the St. Nazaire's brig. Dahlia hadn't thought about that box for years, and it was again something she had never told anyone. As a matter of fact, no one besides her and her sister even knew about it. She desperately wanted to continue stubbornly rejecting even the remotest possibility of a relationship between Di Wan and the older sister she had idolized as a child, but that was starting to become more difficult.
The matter weighed heavily on her mind even as she bargained long and hard with Prattucci for the stupid dessert and was ever present in the back of her mind as she enjoyed herself with her friends that evening. She did her best not to let it dampen the fun she had with Mahad and Lena and their mother; she was particularly careful around Alice, though the guardian was good about respecting her privacy. Besides, she seemed to be more interested in Wayan lately, which was rather endearing.
Mahad had come dressed in his father's coat, a garment he had taken to sporting on a regular basis. He particularly seemed to enjoy using the pockets and sleeves for poorly executed magic tricks which amused most people to a degree until he tried a little too hard for a little too long. He was still fun to be around, though. The brash young pilot showed his typical tom-foolery in their little dinner party, this time going out of his way to try and get a spoon to stick to his nose as he waddled around the room with it, his head tilted back at an angle and his feet in a wide stance as he overdramatized the effort it took to maintain the cutlery's position on his nose. The effect was as humorous as it was intended to be.
"You look like a circus bear!" Lena had laughed. Dahlia couldn't help but agree. The evening had been great fun and enough to distract her from the issue, though unresolved questions continued to gnaw at her for the next few days. It didn't affect her work; one thing that the blonde was above all was efficient. Those thoughts were, however, what brought her out to one of her favourite spots on the block. It was right along one of the edges near the lighthouse with a short gap between the main Puerto Angel block and a small little section with some kind of old earth device on top. She regularly used the old metal contraption for target practise with small missiles like stones. Sometimes she turned it into a game if she had some company, she had even taught Lena how to throw the stones just right to hit the target. The seijinn had teased her by cheating with the use of her powers the first time. Sometimes she still did, and it had become somewhat of an inside joke between them recently.
She was on her own at the moment though. Or, so she had thought.
"Hi." A voice said from behind Dahlia. The blonde pirate turned to see Dianne standing a few meters away, her hands in her coat pockets. It was a warm day but she still wore the trench coat to hide her skin. The blonde noticed that her hair was now pulled back and up slightly in a long ponytail sticking out the back of her head with the shorter strands at the front still framed her face.
"Hi," The blonde replied, surprised.
"Mind if I join you?" the teenager asked hesitantly.
"Uh…sure. It's a free block." Dahlia replied, finally finding a pebble and weighing it mentally. She had rather hoped to be alone to think but also wasn't going to be rude to their newest crew member, particularly when said addition had been so very reclusive since she had gotten to Puerto Angel. The girl smiled slightly and walked over as the blonde hurled her small missile at the metal structure. The satisfying sound of rock hitting metal echoed as it made contact.
"Nice throw." The dark-haired teen said in admiration as she knelt down and reached out a gloved hand to pick up a rock of her own. She tested its weight in her palm in the exact same manner as her companion. She threw it almost casually to hit the center of the contraption with a similar resounding clang.
"You're not bad yourself," Dahlia praised as she selected another rock.
"Well I had a good teacher," She said, looking directly at the blonde as she said it. There was a strange expression on her face that the rebel couldn't quite place. Dianne looked away quickly and picked up another stone. She grinned mischievously and gestured at their "target". "I'll give it a black eye,"
She took a half step back and wound her arm up before hurling it forward with all her strength, stumbling forward as she did so with a very familiar technique. The rock whistled through the air and smacked into the contraption. Dahlia clapped once and then picked up another rock.
"Its nose is so gone!" the blonde said, repeating the dark haired teen's motions. Again the missile found its target.
"That's 20 points!" Dianne said with a slight laugh.
"What?" Dahlia asked. The other girl blinked in brief confusion.
"You…you don't play with points?" she asked, apparently bewildered.
"No," the blonde said. She paused and thought about it a moment before smiling, "Not a bad idea though,"
"Oh…but my m—" the girl seemed to catch herself on something and stopped abruptly before picking up another stone and tossing it casually "I always played with points,"
"We can use points if you like," Dahlia offered, wondering if the gesture would do anything to ease the obvious homesickness the girl seemed to be experiencing.
"It's no big deal. Forget about it," Dianne said with a shrug.
Just then the sound of an engine and a loud "whoop" sang through the air as a blur of red and tan zipped by them; Mahad was riding his speeder around the block again, no doubt training for a rematch with his piloting nemesis Lucretia. He was really getting attached to the coat, too. The blonde rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly, glancing over to her companion. The dark haired teenager watched him bank the speeder before speeding across like a bullet again. She took a couple of running steps forward in excitement
"No way! A genuine first edition 300-megawatt power speeder with over 120 km per hour speed capabilities? And in red too! I'd forgotten he had one of those…man, that's like a collector's item!" she exclaimed. Dahlia blinked and frowned.
"Collectors' item?" she repeated "That model is barely 10 years old,"
Dianne flinched in alarm before laughing nervously.
"I-I only meant that…you might want to hold onto it. A model like that, it's destined to be valuable one day,"
Dahlia relaxed slightly and picked up another rock
"Well, good luck with that. There's no way Mahad will ever part with that thing. It was hard enough for him to lose the Hyperion!"
"Aww, but the Mark II's gonna be even better!" Dianne exclaimed
"We can only hope," The blonde rebel said with a smile.
"Oh yeah!" the brunette agreed enthusiastically. The two of them watched as Mahad decided to show off for a little while, throwing aerials, spins, sharp banks and other tricks that he had picked up, letting loose a loud 'whoop' every other trick or so. Dianne grinned widely and laughed at the display, even going so far as to clap in appreciation of the stunts as they brought back fond memories. Dahlia cracked a small smile and crossed her arms across her chest, shaking her head slightly in a fond, long-suffering manner. The brunette couldn't help but notice this reaction and a deep, throaty chuckle rose in her throat.
"What?" The blonde asked curiously
"You two," Dianne replied, nodding her head in the general direction of the pilot who was blatantly vying for their attention. "You're just meant for each other,"
"What?!" Dahlia squeaked, a blush rising quickly up her face at the statement. "D-don't be ridiculous! I mean, me and Mahad? Sure he's a flirt but…no. No way,"
"Why not? He might flirt with other girls but he only has eyes for you," Dianne told her.
"I don't know about that. You seem to get along okay," The blonde retorted jokingly, though she couldn't help but feel a sudden, unexpected surge of anticipation for the answer the moment that the question was asked. To her mild relief and bemusement her companion's reaction was immediate and sharp.
"Of course he's awesome—wait, whoa!" She exclaimed when she realized what the blonde meant, whipping around and putting her hands out defensively and shaking both them and her head in extremely firm denial "Whoa, no! Nononononono! NO! EW! Not that way! That would just be so wrong on soooo many levels! No." She let out a long exhale and dropped her hands to rest them on her hips before continuing "No. For one thing, I don't do the whole 'dating thing'— it just doesn't seem to agree with me. Besides, it's written all over him whenever he's with you. You're more than a crush. Just…trust me on this one,"
Dahlia didn't say anything in response to this, shrugging off the suggestion dismissively though her expression was pensive. Dianne watched her carefully with almost baited breath before changing the topic of the conversation.
"I noticed that you didn't bring Wanda home," she said.
"No," Dahlia replied shortly, not particularly pleased with the change in conversation. She'd just started to forget about that whilst they were fooling around. She took a deep breath and continued "It would not be a good idea to bring her here,"
"I guess people wouldn't be too happy about it, huh?"
"It would be a stupid move to bring a Guardian here," the blonde retorted. Dianne put her hands in her pockets and turned her face towards a breeze that came by, looking at some point in the horizon as she asked
"What makes you think she's still loyal to them? I mean, apart from you being her sister, you tried to save her. They just left her to rot,"
"She was Oslo's lieutenant. Besides, we still don't really know for sure that she's my sister yet," the pirate said with an uncomfortable clearing of her throat. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and scuffed her shoe in the dirt, digging the ball of her foot into it in a sudden intense interest in the consistency of the rocky soil beneath the leather sole.
"Haven't you gotten the DNA back yet?" Dianne asked, perplexed. The other young woman shrugged.
"Cheng said that there's a transmission from Oxford for me, but I haven't read it yet. Doesn't really matter anyway, she can't come here. Like I said, Di Wan would have and probably still will do anything for Oslo,"
"Di Wan might have," Dianne said slowly before giving her a sidelong look "But would Wanda?"
Dahlia blinked and opened her mouth to retort, but stopped and closed it again as she mulled the one of the many thoughts that had been nagging at her for the last few days surrounding the (former?) guardian. Instead of answering the other young woman directly she merely nodded once with a pensive 'Hmmm,". Dianne gave a little shrug and turned to start trekking back up to the Lighthouse, pausing only briefly to glance over her shoulder at the blonde.
"Think about it," she suggested, leaving the rebel with just as much if not more to think about as when she had joined her.
As such when she went back to her flat later that day she took herself up to her room and closed the door, glad in that moment that Alice had left to return to her job at the Sphere already. What Dahlia wanted in the next few minutes (at the very least) was to be alone.
Taking a deep breath the blonde pirate reached for her hand-held computer to open the files that Cheng had passed on to her from Oxford. Cortez had no doubt already read it along with his adoptive son and she would have to read it herself. She pressed the button to turn it on and quickly found the file, opening it and reading its contents. There was a whole report included, it seemed that the doctors at Oxford liked to go into detail when given the time and opportunity. There were paragraphs on blood work and blood types and alleles and all sorts. Not having gone to medical school and being more interested in strategy and engineering than biology, Dahlia didn't understand all of what was written but enough to get the gist of it before they finally got to the damning line in capital letters:
DNA MATCH CONFIRMED. RELATIONSHIP; SIBLINGS.
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Several sectors away the woman that Dahlia had been spending so much time thinking about was lying on a small cot on top of the blankets, looking up at the plain ceiling. The sun had just set on her block and she was in the guest room that her host had generously provided her. It was a quaint little space that had been decorated in such a way as to create the illusion of more space then there actually was. The bed was a modest size and sheeted with old but still very decent cotton. The window was well placed to provide the guest with a beautiful view of the seemingly boundless expanse of sky reaching out behind the block.
She might be a prisoner in all but name, but her jailors acted far more like hosts. She felt more like a guest than an inmate, even with a few uncomfortable situations. Aida was cautious around her and discreetly kept her young son occupied elsewhere but she was also just that: discreet. Whilst in the other seijinn's company she was polite and personable, though a bit distant. That was just fine in Di Wan—Wanda. She had to start thinking of herself as Wanda again. It would take practice, but she would simply have to get used to it.
Distance was perfectly acceptable in Wanda's books. It was familiar. It was something she could handle with ease and comfort. It was certainly an improvement on the Pirates' glee and disdain...on Dahlia's rejection. Wanda spent a large portion of her time thinking on the blonde rebel. She saw it now, and didn't know how she hadn't seen it before. Dahlia looked like their mother. She had dismissed the name as a commonplace one; by the time she had read it on a report and a wanted poster she had met no less than three Dahlia's, one of which had been a blonde girl at the Academy. She had never looked at Dahlia all that closely, never put much effort into more than a vague estimation of her age. Besides, she had been given the news that the rebels had gotten her sister killed the day they were separated. That hatred had sustained her through those early days at the academy and in a roundabout way helped her let go. Harping on her dead family didn't get her advanced. Feelings like that were nothing but a draw back. She had closed them off and ignored them quite cheerfully for a very long time.
At least she had…until she couldn't anymore.
Her brief bout of amnesia at Oxford had reintroduced her to the emotions and sympathies she had long deemed a useless waste of time and energy. When her memory had returned, a vague intuition had kept her polite and friendly with the people who had protected her. A survival instinct, it seemed. It had worked, for the most part. She still wasn't sure what would have happened to her had she been handed back over to the Sphere then and there. Now, given the bits and pieces she had gathered from Oxford, the political climate within the Sphere and the Guardians was anything but friendly towards her. Oslo and his associate were in disgrace even in "death" following the complete destruction of two Sphere monuments: Karzem and the Monolith. Oslo had run the Sphere in all but name, and even then all but name on paper. After the disaster that had been Karzem, however, the fools who ran the sphere had flexed their long dormant political powers by actually leaving their luxuries and taking stock of the world around them. Now they had actually returned to the work they had largely neglected in favour of leisure, comfortable in the extensive infrastructure which had kept them in their positions. If Di Wan went back now she'd likely find herself made an "example" of.
With a frustrated sigh the young woman swung her legs over the side of the bed and stepped over to the small set of drawers under the window. She opened the drawers the see exactly what she already knew was there; neatly folded sets of plain clothes, a simplistic comb, an old book of some sort with a weathered and bent soft cover, and a mirror. She had made no changes to the room, even though she had largely kept to it during her stay so far. Her fingers ghosted over the handle of the small looking glass, running the tip of her nail along the wood before picking it up.
"Who am I?" Wanda murmured to herself as she examined what she saw. She ran her fingers through the short blonde strands that were growing back on her head, the sensation still a strange nuance. It was partially covering her tattoo now. She could shave it off again…or she could let it go.
Di Wan sighed again and almost threw the mirror down before slamming the drawer shut. She stomped back to her bed and flipped down on.
"Who can I be?" She asked the ceiling. She shook her head and looked around the room listlessly before crawling underneath the covers of her bed, lying down so that she faced the window so that she could watch the sky morph from the violet hues of twilight into the black of night strewn with pinpricks of starlight.
Di Wan wanted to go back to the Sphere. She needed to. It was her home, it was who she was, it was her life's devotion! Before those brats had come along she had a cemented place at her Master's side; his undisputed favorite and trusted right hand at the age of twenty-five. Her position had been secure! She had progressed through the ranks and amassed seijinn skill faster than anyone but Oslo and the Traitor-Seijinn, Mila. She had been her Master's weapon of choice and perhaps even his chosen successor. Yet now…now she knew that she had been lied to. She herself had perpetrated many lies in the name of the Sphere and her own advancement, so it seemed hypocritical to be upset about it, but knowing that her Master had to have known…moreover, he had to have known the extent of her loyalty to him. She may well have killed her wayward rebel sister if he had asked her then. She certainly would have captured the girl for him had he but asked. But instead he had...
Wanda shuddered. He had forced himself into her sister's mind. And she had been a part of it. She had stood by and watched. She had admired her Master's abilities. She could never have harnessed the energy of the solar surge they way he had. And now she knew that he hadn't just done that to an enemy. He'd done that to her kin. He had to have known after dwelling in her mind—hadn't he? And he hadn't told his most loyal and faithful servant. Her best efforts had not been enough, nor had her loyalty; he had all but disowned her before her capture.
The part that was still firmly Di Wan bridled at the sacrilegious thoughts. Of course he had disowned her. Of course he had cast her out. Had she not failed him repeatedly? Had he not given her enough chances? It wasn't her fault that she was surrounded by incompetent fools, but that was no excuse to give High Commander Oslo! Another part of her, however, now rebelled against that steadfast bond. Had her past service meant nothing? She fought tooth and nail for him every time for nothing. She had even fought to bring him her replacement because he wanted it; she had known Lena would have a position higher than even she could hope for.
It took a long time before she drifted off to sleep, not that the Guardian got any peace from her dreams.
It was as though she were standing in the middle of a theatre watching everything play out from a third person perspective as a barrage of images flashed by;
The bald woman with the tattoo stood on a farming block outside a house. She was encircled by brigs and standing impatiently, demanding that the seijinn within the house surrender themselves without hesitation. She felt the sardonic surprise when what appeared to be a simple farm-worker emerged wearing patched overalls with her hair in two braids down her back…
…Two little girls with blonde hair giggled as they chased each other around an old playground, the older in pursuit of her younger counterpart through the grass and around the rusted obstacles.
"You can't catch me!" The smaller girl sang out with a giggle in a light, endearing accent.
"I'll bet I can!" She—Wanda— laughed as she gave chase around a set of swings. Her longer legs made catching her clever "quarry" easier as she hopped over an old wooden fence instead of having to take the time to crawl under it. She dove forward and caught the smaller girl around the middle, lifting with her knees to swing her around.
"Ha! Got you!" she cried triumphantly, though her little sister had stopped laughing as Wanda put her down. The smile on her face slid away too when the shadow crossed over the paid and she pulled her little sister in a little closer with a slight gasp of fear.
"Wanda…what's that?" the small child asked quietly, pointing at the ships that were coming in over the block.
"We have to find mom," Wanda said nervously, grabbing her sister's hand and hurrying back towards the university…
…She was Di Wan again. She was in a gladiator ring and she was furious. She was looking at one young man clad in white with a bandana on his head and pointing at another in a red and white pilot suit, demanding that the first youth "finish" the other. She felt a rush of fury and indignation at the gladiator's refusal and was about to attack him herself when she was struck by an energy blast that sent her flying off her feet…
… Wanda and little Dahlia were hurrying back towards their house when the smaller girl tripped and fell with a cry.
"Dahli!" she exclaimed, stopping to help her up "It's okay, come on, we have to keep goin—"
She was cut off by a sudden bang as their quaint little brick house erupted into flames, prompting both girls to reel backwards again with cries of alarm.
"Our house!" Her little sister wailed.
"Come on, we have to find somewhere to hide!" Wanda cried. She was starting to panic; her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest. A rush of adrenaline made her feel cold and energetic in bursts of movement to avoid the shots and explosions.
"Wanda! Dahlia!" someone—her mother?— cried frantically as a tall, slender woman with straight blonde hair, a white coat and glasses ran towards her two daughters. She fell to one knee and seized both of them into a brief, desperate embrace before scooping up little Dahlia and grabbing Wanda's hand, dragging her along as she took off at a run. Wanda struggled to keep up with her but clung to her mother's hand with all her might…
…As Di Wan she was thrown off her feet by an energy blast. She was furious—and face down on a slab of block. She pounded her fist onto the ground and growled out "My soldiers are going to make mincemeat out of y—" she stopped herself short when she saw the pair of slipper-like white shoes and froze, her gaze slowly travelled up the white-clad legs and torso to see a head as bald as her own. The face was familiar and the expression in held sent her heart plummeting to the bottom of her chest even as a flush rose to her face. The anger in the commander's voice made her almost tremble in dismay and embarrassment at her own failure…
…Wanda had been separated from her mother and sister. She cried out for them in vain as she tried to fight her way through the crowd. She half-shrieked when she was knocked over amongst the crowd, throwing her arms up over her head, terror of being trampled running through her. This terror was only increased when she tried to get up only to be knocked back down. When the soles of shoes started to get in close she lost it and cried out again in fear as she curled up into a ball, her powers acting instinctively to erect a bright blue energy shield around herself and repel the terrified mob. The screams briefly became louder and then quieted as people were blown off their feet and then scrambled to recover their feet and continue fleeing. When she uncurled there was only one person standing across from her wearing a Guardian's uniform. The man approached her.
"Not unimpressive," he remarked sleekly. His head jerked at a sudden sound and raised a glowing hand, stopping a piece of debris in mid-air before it could hit her. She gasped and recoiled at the sharp-looking shard of glass and flinched when the man discarded it with a casual flick of his hand.
"Come child," he barked, extending his glowing hand. Wanda's breath caught in alarm as an invisible force pulled her to her feet and dragged her across for the man to grip her arm. "This mob is no place for such a promising young seijinn,"…
…The scene changed again, but this time it had no taint of familiarity that her flashbacks did. There was blasting and fire everywhere and she stood in the middle of it. There were the pirates and people from the sphere: brigs and ships and strange soldiers that seemed to be wearing a sort of mask or something on their faces.
And Dahlia was there! She was there and Di Wan/Wanda felt a surge of dread and danger. Danger was coming, it was coming towards her! But then….why was Dahlia there? She was on her home block somewhere far away…Suddenly an image of someone coming at the blonde pirate with a weapon charging filled her mind—
Wanda was screaming when she bolted into a sitting position, her body coated in a sheen of cold sweat.
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"…Lena, Lena!" Mila called to get her attention. The young girl jumped slightly and turned her head in the direction where her mother's voice had come from attentively
"Can you thread the needle for us, please?" the adult seijin asked. Her daughter raised an eyebrow and "felt" for the objects assembled inside the circle. There was a long plastic needle and some thread there, sure enough. With a bored exhale of breath she sat back, leaning against her hands on the ground as the two objects levitated into the air and the thread flew through the eye of the needle in an instant. The class continued on in a similar way for the better part of an hour until they were finally dismissed. Most of the children then trudged over to the lighthouse for some of the Vector's schooling with groans about homework and stuff. However, Lena hung back
"Mom, can't I do something else? This class is boring. I taught myself most of this stuff in like a week!" she whined.
"Lena, I know that you're restless but we need to get some of these young seijinns trained and you agreed to help me demonstrate," her mother said as she gathered up the materials she had used back into their box. Her daughter sighed.
"I know that I did, and I do want to help, but…couldn't I just come for a little while at the beginning and then go practice on my own or with Celia or something? I need to practice my own stuff too," she said before adding hesitantly "Maybe…maybe you and I could practice together at some point? The two of us?"
"Lena, you know there's nothing that I would like better, but these children need to be trained," Mila told her.
"You mean like how I was trained?" Lena muttered under her breath. Her mother heard her and looked up suddenly, her expression both hurt and concerned at the same time. She opened her mouth to say something but her daughter then looked away and flushed, unable to believe that she had actually said that.
"Lena…"
"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that," The young girl said, fully sincere in her apology. She started to get to her feet when her mother's hand on her arm halted her movements. She stopped and looked down to meet Mila's gaze.
"We will find time to work on your powers now that we're together again. I promise," Mila told her. She sighed and then started to say something else when a new voice interrupted the pair
"Am I interrupting something?" the young woman calling herself Dianne said carefully as she approached. Mila's hand dropped from her daughter's arm and she got to her feet as Lena groaned.
"Not her again," the youngest seijinn grumbled as the teenager approached them with her hands in her pockets.
"Hey," Dianne greeted quietly
"Good afternoon," Mila replied, polite but distant and a little wary as was probably to be expected, particularly with someone who practically radiated psychic repellant. Dianne noticed both reactions and shifted slightly from one foot to the other before motioning around them with her pocketed hands.
"Have a good class?" She inquired in an awkward attempt at conversation.
"Yes, well enough." Mila told her with a slightly warmer smile. Lena didn't make eye contact with the adolescent and went about to finish up the tidying that her mother had been doing earlier. Dianne noticed this but returned the snub by ignoring the other girl herself for a few moments.
"I was wondering if I might be able to join your class," She began.
"The class is for kids," Lena snapped at her, finally acknowledging her.
"Lena!" Mila admonished.
"No, no. It's alright. I'm an outsider and we did have a bit of a…row earlier. Actually, what I meant was that I was wondering if I could lend you a hand sometimes. I know my theory inside and out. Trust me, I've had a lot of time to study it." She told them. Mila looked her up and down with a critical eye as she considered the young woman's offer, weighing what she had heard from the others. There was no denying the teenager's power, but there were definitely questions about her stability.
"I'll think about it," she said after a few moments before turning back to her daughter "I'm going to go back to the house. Don't be late for dinner." The woman then smiled thinly at the two of them and headed back towards the village tiredly. Once she was out of hearing range Dianne turned to Lena, planting her hands on her hips.
"You want more of a challenge? Spar with me." She said. The younger girl crossed her arms over her chest
"Why would you want to do that?" she challenged. The other girl smiled coldly and started counting off the reasons on her fingers.
"One, you're bored, you said it yourself. Two, no one else besides Oslo or your mother can match you and you know it and three…well, judging by that arm I'm probably the best qualified," The teenager finished as she crossed her arms over her chest and jerked her head at the fist Lena had clenched at her side. The young seijinn looked down at her hand and breathed in sharply, her eyes widening and her hand flexing in alarm to see that it was, once again, glowing without permission or prompt. She tried in vain to quiet it by a simple thought (the way she normally did) to no avail and felt herself starting to panic. If there was one thing she hated it was not being in control of her own powers…
"Calm down," Dianne said almost gently, approaching the younger girl when she saw the fear start to rise in her eyes The teenager put a hand on Lena's shoulder gingerly and then sat down, patting the ground next to her in invitation. The younger seijinn hesitated for a moment before slowly sitting on the grass a foot or two away from where Dianne had indicated. The teenager didn't seem to be phased by the distance and in fact made no comment on it. Instead she dug through one of her pockets and produced wadded-up, wrinkled, elbow-length glove. She held it out to Lena as though giving her a peace offering.
"What's this?" Lena asked warily.
"What does it look like? It's a glove. Doesn't make any difference, I just find that it helps not to have people staring at you all the time. It makes them nervous," Dianne told her. There was a brief pause of silence. Lena looked down at her glowing hand and then at her companion and the glove though she made no move to take it. Finally she bit the corner of her mouth and managed to ask,
"H-how do you…you know, make it stop?"
"You don't." Dianne said before briefly pausing and reconsidering her answer "Well, that's not quite true. Used to be if I didn't think about it too much and did something relaxing it would go away,"
Lena looked at the long sleeves of the other girl's coat. She had been unconscious when their newest member had displayed her abilities and her unusual skin condition and as such had not gotten a good look at it. Dianne noted her gaze and sat back, rolling back her sleeve and pulling off her glove one finger at a time. The younger of the two was visibly taken aback at the pulsating veins and luminescent skin.
"You mean…yours doesn't go away?" she half-inquired-half-stated in horror. The teenager rolled her sleeve back down.
"Nope," She said matter-of-factly. "Not unless I'm completely drained and what little juice I have left is fixing me up. This is the price of being able to disintegrate a flag ship in 23 seconds flat and still have enough left to kick Oslo's but before forgetting to tell everyone that he's still alive. Don't complain, you don't look like something out of a horror story or lab accident brochure yet. Be happy,"
Lena scowled. She had gone from almost pleasant and helpful to rude once again.
"You're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you? Just what is your problem with me anyway?" she demanded. Dianne rolled her eyes and started to turn as though to simply walk away from the conversation without answering the question when a movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, prompting her to glance to the left to see Mahad jogging up to them.
"There you are Squirt!" He exclaimed as he reached them and grabbed Lena's hand "Come on, we gotta go! Cortez is calling all hands to the Saint Nazaire,"
"Why?" Lena asked even as she hurried to fall in step with her brother as he continued at a quick jog. Dianne started forward but then stopped, unsure as to whether or not she was included in this and as such kept a discreet distance even while listening to what the young man was staying.
"We just got a distress signal from Spencer's block. Something really weird is going on near their block and Di Wan is going nuts!" The pilot told his sister as their jog picked up into a run "Something about the sky being weird!"
Dianne skidded to a stop with a sharp intake of breath, her eyes nearly popping out of her head with a sinking realization that sent her heart plummeting into her stomach.
"No…" she breathed. The bird-like blue wisp shimmered into the air next to her and the two exchanged a glance that was uncharacteristically same-minded before both looking back to where Lena and Mahad were running off to. The teenager shook her head in denial and groaned as she took off at a run after them. "No, no, no, no!"
A/N: Not a lot of action in this chapter, but there is a lot in the next one. As usual it will go up as soon as I can get it done. Please drop me a line and tell me what you think of the story :)