Whaattupppp my homies, tis another chapter!

I do NOT wanna be that person who begs for more reviews, but like, guys. I got 2 reviews last chapter and I'm (fairly) confident that more than two people read this every week. Please give an exhausted uni student some love \('.')/

Anyway, moving on~

RECAP:
- Lukas and Matthias agreed to have a sort of truce while on Fynkn, though, considering their combative personalities, neither is confident it will last long.
- Lovino and Feliciano are failing to collect the funds they need to flee Rela before Inkar Akhmetov's time limit runs out.
- Flashback to when Lovino and Feliciano's parents were murdered. The brothers' grandfather, Romulus, was apparently never the same after his daughter died, and was cruel and neglectful to Lovino.
- Lukas and Matthias finally arrived on Fynkn, met a fearsome rebel named Captain Malin Thomassen, and were assigned to start preliminary training for about 5-6 weeks.

WARNINGS:
- A few very brief mentions of sex and a lil bit of violence, nothing that really needs a warning.

Enjoyyyy, and please reviewwwwww

Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,
Fenyir Region, Fynkn,
20th Jaune

Lukas was woken by the harsh blaring of an overhead alarm, and immediately wished he could dive deeper into his covers and ignore it. Unfortunately, he had been relegated to the top bunk, so the alarm was going off about half a metre away from his face, meaning that even the softest and thickest blankets were unlikely to be able to drown out the noise. He groaned slightly, glancing over at the digital clock that was pinned up to the wall, in clear view of everyone. 0600 hours. Well, they were punctual, if nothing else. Everyone else in the room had started to get up and get dressed so, grumbling in irritation, Lukas started to do the same.

The barracks were…exactly along the lines of what he had expected. Rows and rows of uncomfortable bunks stacked three beds high in buildings with white-plaster walls and very little insulation. The barracks were co-ed, but the women had been placed down one end, while men had been put down the other. They had been warned about being intimate with any other recruits, though from what Lukas had seen so far, everyone was too tired to think about sex by the time they got back to their bunks.

He and Køhler had been briefly introduced to the whole unit yesterday afternoon, as their training had ended. As it turned out, the batch of recruits that they had joined had begun their preliminary training about two weeks ago. According to the person on the bunk below Lukas, so far it had been basic physicality and fitness training. They had also dabbled in using guns and other weapons, but Lukas wasn't concerned; he was in good shape already – working with the resistance had ensured that – and he knew very well how to use weapons. He understood the necessity, though. A lot of the people wanting to learn to fight, by their own admission, were farmers or students or even former prisoners. Most of them didn't have the skills required to fight a war.

He had already managed to pick out a few outliers in the group. There was one heavy-set man of maybe 22 years named Kors Justsen who seemed to believe that he was by far the best fighter in the group. He had spent a good deal of time outlining why he was going to be selected to go straight to the squads. The sad thing was, for all his unpleasantness and egotistical behaviour, he wasn't wrong. Most of the other recruits were hardly even in shape, much less able to fight like he could. Another anomaly of the group was a girl named Riya Kristoff, who seemed small and slight and almost entirely defenceless, and yet who seemed to garner respect and deference from everyone. Only Kors ever seemed to be anything approaching disrespectful to her, but even then, he didn't outright mock or insult her like he did everyone else.

Lukas tumbled onto the floor, glad that he had managed to land on his feet as he collected himself. Køhler, who was on the bottom bunk of the same bed as him, looked up at him blearily.

"Can I go home yet?" the Rywanese man groaned, rubbing his face. Lukas rolled his eyes, tugging on the man's sleeve. No matter how well they did in this training, they needed to be assigned to the same place, and being assigned at all meant them both participating in this training. The taller man rolled his eyes but stumbled out of bed regardless, immediately dwarfing Lukas as he straightened up. Lukas shifted over to the chest where they were all storing their uniforms, and tugged his out of it's small marked compartment.

"Not quite yet." He said simply, pulling the slightly overlarge grey sweatshirt that he had been given as pyjamas over his head. One of the most unnerving things to happen so far had happened last night, when Lukas had found himself and Køhler being subtly watched by the people around them as they undressed. One of the friendlier recruits – Ansel – had explained that they were trying to size them up, and see if they were threats to their own positions. Lukas had found it a little creepy, in all honesty, and he was especially glad that he was avoiding scrutiny this morning as he quickly pulled on his drab olive training uniform.

The uniforms were one of the few other things that Køhler and he would agree on. They were awful. Made of a scratchy fabric the colour of green olives, they were horrendous to even stand still in, much less do arduous physical activity in. They consisted of a double-breasted jacket and long pants. Underneath, they were expected to wear thermals and then singlet shirts underneath those again. They were allowed to wear whatever shoes they wanted, which was a relief to Lukas as he pulled his new Venkater boots on. His feet would be warm at least.

Køhler looked like he was appreciating the temperatures today about as much as he had yesterday; his expression was stony, and his arms were wrapped firmly around his middle, shaking slightly. They had all been given thick wool socks and gloves, thankfully, so they weren't going to succumb to frostbite on their very first day, but it was clear that most of the people here weren't built for this level of cold. Lukas didn't find it pleasant, since they were a little underdressed for the weather, but he wasn't actively suffering either. There was an old adage he recalled hearing as a child. He didn't remember the exact wording, but the basic gist was that the cold didn't affect Bondeviks. He used to dismiss it as rubbish, but looking at how everyone else was shuddering while he himself felt fine, Lukas wondered if there was some truth to it as he quickly laced up his boots.

"Alright, everyone dressed?" a loud voice called out over the top of the low murmuring that filled the barracks. The noise quieted down as they all turned their attention to the doors. "Good. Let's move."

Sergeant Runar Kolden was the commanding officer for Block D, and by far seemed to be the most intense of them all. As Lukas had discovered, when a large enough batch of recruits had been collected, they were given aptitude testing that lasted several days, before being sorted into four groups, which corresponded with the Block that they were then sorted into. All four covered the basic skills required to be an effective soldier, but focussed slightly more on different areas.

Block A was for those with a strong combat background but who lacked on areas like strategy, survival skills and theoretical areas. They focussed on strengthening those areas. Block B was for those who came from a distinctly non-athletic background, who were good with theory and strategizing, and tried to give them some battlefield skills. Since their strengths were in battle strategy and command, they tended to follow lines of work such as that. Block C were the medics and helpers; people who didn't have the disposition to kill or take up active combat, but were able and willing to be involved in warzones and help others. They were also focussing on athleticism, since a medic that couldn't run fast wasn't much use. Block D was…everyone else. People who didn't have any remarkable skills but who wanted to help out with the rebellion. Lukas and Matthias had been placed there because it was the only block that didn't require additional testing that also had spaces left.

Ansel – Lukas' friendly bedfellow – had explained what happened after preliminary training. Most people from Block A were assigned to squads, to go into guerrilla warfare areas and take down the Union piece by piece. Block B tended to go into the areas of communication, technology, espionage, trade and command. Block C tended to go to areas to help refugees, former prisoners and wounded soldiers, as well as do supply runs. Block D were the foot soldiers sent wherever they were needed.

Lukas already knew what area he wanted to go into – he had heard numerous stories from Kari about the guerrilla fighters on Fynkn. They were the ones that travelled through Fynkn's more remote, dangerous areas; the ones who freed imprisoned civilians and helped set up outposts. The ones who engaged with the Union directly without the danger of open territory. He wanted to be one, badly, but he wasn't in Block A. He shouldn't worry, according to Ansel, since all of the commanding officers knew that he and Køhler had been placed here for sheer convenience, they would be judged as they went through the training, since they weren't evaluated prior to starting.

Well, hopefully they would be. According to Ansel, though Sergeant Kolden was a hardass, he was also a little on the lazy side, meaning that Lukas would have to try and really stand out if it meant getting into a guerrilla squad. He cracked his neck idly, internally snickering at the way Køhler wrinkled his nose in disgust at that, and followed the others out into the harsh sunlight.

The snow on the ground reflected the sun easily, which made the landscape unbelievably glary. Lukas squinted against the harsh light burning into his eyelids, sighing as the cold wind hit him a moment later. He found the change refreshing after spending a whole night inhaling other people's carbon dioxide, but everyone around him reacted with shock and disgust to the temperature.

He saw Køhler curl his lip in distaste as he folded his arms in an attempt to shield his body from the wind. His attention returned to the front as Sergeant Kolden began to speak.

"It is 0623 hours. It took you hopeless morons twenty-three whole minutes to get ready. By the time you are dispatched from here, I want you to be able to completely suit up in about five. Block A are already out doing their morning PT, and they were woken up at the same time as you!" the recruits at the front of the crowd winced. Sergeant Kolden did tend to speak on the loud side, and Lukas could hear him perfectly even while stuck solidly in the middle of the crowd. The volume at the front must be staggering.

"Your routine this morning involves a five-kilometre run marked out with red flags every thirty metres." He pointed out the start and finish line that had been marked out in the snow with black dye. "When you finish that, you will return here and do thirty sit-ups and fifty push-ups." He gestured to the wide space between the four barrack buildings. "Anyone outside the fastest fifty runners will do an extra ten of each. If you vomit, keep going. We don't have time to hold your hair back and pat your shoulder. Got it?" they all nodded, grumbling a little. "Alright, go!"

The group set out, some making the foolish decision of rushing ahead to try and avoid having to do the extra sit-ups and push-ups. Lukas rolled his eyes, settling into a pace that he knew he could maintain for the whole duration of the run. He had made a point of staying in shape over the years. It was what had helped him survive in the resistance. He swore that 96% of the people there had a six-pack, so being athletic had helped a lot, especially where his training with Nelia had been involved. He did miss meeting up with her every morning to spar. She was an excellent teacher, and his combat ability had increased ten-fold under her tutelage. Hopefully, while he was here, he would get to put what he had learned to the test.

The route that had been mapped out was actually rather scenic, Lukas noted. It gave a view of the lower mountain peaks that slipped on until the horizon, as well as some of the coniferous forest that they hadn't been able to see from above yesterday. In the far distance, he could see a glimmering silver shape that he guessed must be a lake, and admired the slender mountain peaks bracketed by wispy white clouds.

As they continued to run along the track, more and more people began to fall behind. Lukas passed people who were panting and puffing to a ridiculous extent. Lukas frowned a little at that. His chest was starting to get a little tight, but he knew that actual exhaustion wouldn't set in for quite a while. Running really wasn't that difficult, though he guessed that everyone's skill sets here were probably rather varied. By the time he passed the marker that indicated he only had a kilometre to go, he was almost completely alone on the track. He knew that he wasn't first, but he hoped that he was at least in the top twenty. He could definitely do the extra exercises, but it wasn't him that needed that workout.

He skidded to a stop at the black line they had started at, panting, only to look up and see that he was the second person back. Sergeant Kolden was there, of course, with a rather stupefied look on his face as he examined Lukas. Standing beside him, looking a little out of breath but not overly tired, was Køhler. Lukas cursed internally, his previous concerns about the differences in their physical capabilities returning to the fore of his mind. Køhler was decently taller than him, so part of his quicker time would have been due to his longer legs and consequently longer strides. His mind was still whirring over it as Kolden got over his shock and looked at the sheet he was holding.

"Christensen, second…alright then." He said, still sounding a little confused. Lukas raised an eyebrow, not sure if he should feel offended by that or not, but brushed it off. He didn't care nearly enough about Kolden to be worried about what his opinion of Lukas was. He turned away, making eye contact with Køhler who, in contrast to Kolden, looked a little impressed.

"Not bad Christensen." He commented, and Lukas was satisfied to hear that he was a little breathless. "I'm surprised you could keep up on those short little legs of yours."

Lukas gave him the finger, glowering. "And how the fuck did you get back so quickly, Køhler? I know that you aren't smart enough to have found a shortcut." The bounty hunter grinned.

"I was my school's long-distance running champion four years straight." He said, tone cocky. "I went to district competitions and everything. It's one of my many talents." Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think having an ego larger than the Feynir region counts as a talent." He shot back. Køhler just grinned again. God, he was infuriating. He was prevented from speaking further by the appearance of Block D's third-place runner. It was the mysterious girl that everyone respected, Riya Kristoff. Her expression looked unfazed, and her breathing didn't seem even remotely out of key. Lukas blinked. Sergeant Kolden looked like he had swallowed something very unpleasant as he wrote her name down. For a moment, Lukas wondered if the sergeant had something against her, but when the man turned a little, Lukas could see something in his expression that looked almost…sad.

"Nice job, Kristoff." The sergeant commented idly. Riya nodded simply, looking at Lukas and Køhler curiously before turning away and sitting in the snow, legs folded.

The rest of the runners trickled in slowly, until the last of them, sweating and cursing, appeared. Sergeant Kolden, obviously having recovered from the brief period where he showed actual kindness to a person, barked at them all to get to the meeting area and start their other exercises. Lukas, having enjoyed a good rest for about fifteen minutes or so, was unbothered as he did the prescribed sit-ups and push-ups, trying to ignore the sounds of grunting and complaining around him. He finished the exercises quickly – once again, though, slower than Køhler – and stood, ignoring the sergeant's curious gaze again as he marked things down on his clipboard.

"When you're done, go on to breakfast." Sergeant Kolden said, nodding them away absently. Lukas rolled his back but sighed in relief, not even realising that he had fallen into step beside Køhler.

"You're fitter than you look." Køhler noted absently, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched forward. Lukas hummed. "Not as fit as me, of course." Køhler continued after a moment, tone arrogant. Lukas rolled his eyes, elbowing the bounty hunter hard in the side.

"You know, you could have exempted the second part and actually just given me a compliment." Lukas said. "Is it not in your nature to be a nice person?" Køhler made a face.

"You say that like you would pay me compliments all the time."

"I'm not the sort of person to do that." Lukas said idly. "But, just to show you how it's meant to be done, fine. You have excellent form while you run. I saw you at the beginning of the track." Køhler shot him a look – evidently, he was actually surprised.

"I know." The taller man said after a while. Lukas rolled his eyes again – he seemed to be doing that a lot recently.

"Moron." He sighed. Køhler gave him an egotistical grin.

"Jackass." He replied cheerfully.

Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,
21st Jaune

Yao couldn't sleep.

He shouldn't have been surprised – it was hardly an unusual occurrence, or anything even approaching revolutionary, but for some reason his insomnia was proving especially unbearable tonight. He sat up in bed, dragging his hands over his face and groaning. He despised not being able to sleep, especially when he wanted to.

He stood, being careful to minimise noise even though he was completely alone. He rubbed at his eyes, combing loose locks of hair back from his face as he pondered briefly over what could have woken him. He had been drifting in and out of sleep for a few hours now, and the switching was proving to be more irritating than just staying awake all night.

It probably wouldn't have too serious of an effect on him, anyway. He might have some dark bags that Ayshe or Octavia would chastise him over, but he probably wouldn't even feel too tired. He had been needing less and less sleep lately, which was an irritation to Octavia but a delight to him.

He untied his hair from the loose braid that it was still stuck in, combing his fingers through it absently. He hungered for something to do, but knew that his options would be limited at this time of night. Yao glanced at the clock. 3:31am. Yes, he was probably the only non-night shift person awake right now. He had sacrificed some of his night-time duties to other officials like Aelia Gabras, Jamael Laroussi and Mohammed Hassan at Ayshe and Kabeeta's combined request. They had chastised him consistently over how little sleep he got, and how he needed to take better care of himself. He had surrendered because he knew how stubborn they were, and didn't want to fight such intimidating women. Well, he had also agreed because he couldn't stand to see that concerned look in Ayshe's eyes, but that was irrelevant.

His head jerked to the side, heart fluttering, as he heard a noise from outside. A low rustling met his ears and he swallowed, alarm flaring up. It was probably only animals moving around – they were in the wilderness, after all – but it could also be something more sinister. Moving carefully and quietly, he reached for the stand of weaponry that stood close to his bed, and withdrew one of the traditional jian knives that sat on top. His heart was hammering as he slowly drew one section of his tent open.

The area around his tent was empty, and he cursed, letting himself relax infinitesimally as he stepped outside and did a quick lap of his tent. There was no-one there, and he couldn't even spot the animal that had likely made the noises in the first place. He scowled, glaring at the nearby bushes as if they had personally inflicted harm on him. He was becoming paranoid. His alarm system would have gone off if someone had stepped through the perimeter anyway. Yao lowered the knife and rubbed his face. Perhaps he did need sleep. More rustling met the edges of his earshot, but a quick glance in the direction he thought they were coming from yielded the view of another empty stretch of dirt speckled with small plants.

Maybe he could see Kabeeta about getting some medication to help him sleep. She would certainly welcome him seeking out help for such a thing. He was always so reluctant to talk to anyone about what he was going through. He surveyed the ground again. Maybe he could get some of the bushes near his tent removed. If he was going to be so sensitive that simple rustling would wake him, it might be best if he removed the distraction at it's source. Resolving to do both of those things later in the day, he retreated back into his tent, ignoring the rustling that continued as he walked back inside.

"Sleeping medication?" Kabeeta asked, looking surprised. "I can't say that I was expecting this…you're normally so reluctant to admit that anything is wrong."

Yao sighed, wringing his gloved hands together, absently recalling how warm Ayshe's hand had been on his when she had pulled his glove off. He did hate showing his hands off to people, but he felt like he would hate it a little less if she had her hand slotted into one of his.

"Yes, I know, Kabeeta, but I think that if I'm no longer going to actively work at night, I might as well sleep like how you and Ayshe are always bugging me to do." Kabeeta smiled.

"I agree, but I'm happy to see you finally following my advice." She chuckled. "Did she threaten you with death again?" Yao smiled.

"No, she didn't, but I thought…well, she bugs me about it all the time. I might as well put her mind at peace, if nothing else." Kabeeta smiled, expression warm and open in every sense of the word.

"I see. You really love her, don't you?" Yao inhaled sharply, trying to conceal the extent of his shock at Kabeeta's statement.

"I don't think that's an appropriate way of looking at it-" he said. Kabeeta waved a hand dismissively, effortlessly cutting him off.

"I know what I said." Kabeeta said. "I wasn't the one who made the assumption that I was referring to romantic love, though." Yao sighed, trying to ignore the victorious look on her face.

"I despise you." He sighed as the doctor laughed.

"Yes, I'm sure you do." She replied as she shuffled around some small vials of pills on the shelves, pulling some down and examining their labels. "I wouldn't stress about it, though. The feeling is obviously mutual, though whether you want to act on it or not is up to you two." Yao looked over at her, frowning slightly.

"What do you mean?" Kabeeta shrugged.

"The relationship dynamic that you two have would work regardless of the nature of your relationship. Whatever feels right to you is what you should do. Don't try to force anything. You guys are so close that it would take something pretty huge to ever break you apart, though." He sighed, thinking over her words as she extracted a bottle from the shelf and made a small, victorious noise before tossing it to him. "This should work."

Yao skimmed the label before nodding, curling his fingers around the pill bottle. "Got it. Thanks, Kabeeta." She smiled warmly.

"Any time, Yao."

He stowed the bottle in his pocket, letting his eyes adjust to the glare for a moment as he stepped outside. His thoughts strayed towards Lukas and Matthias Køhler. He had no idea what was going to happen on Fynkn; from now until the day that one or both of them came back, he was blind. He had no spies on Fynkn – he trusted Galina Hansen enough that he didn't think he needed them. Even asking Galina about what was going on down there would make her suspicious. She knew about his talent for and love of schemes, so she would immediately try to sniff out anyone planted by the resistance. They respected each other a lot, but Galina was never a fan of mysteries.

He groaned quietly. While he was happy to be giving Lukas the opportunity to fight for his people and (hopefully) be giving Mr Køhler an opportunity to change the views he had of the resistance and the Union, the whole situation was out of his hands now.

"Yao!" his head jerked up as he spun, already knowing who was calling as he felt himself instinctively relaxing and his expression softening. Ayshe ran up to him, smiling gently. He couldn't help but smile as well.

"Ayshe." He said, dipping his head a little jokingly. "What can I help you with?" she grinned.

"Is it wrong for me to want to spend time with my best friend?" she asked, tone warm and eyes sparkling. Yao had to force himself to look away, he was so enraptured by her happiness for a moment. He smiled.

"No, I suppose not." He mused. "How have the assignments over on Xexei been doing?" Ayshe nodded.

"Very well. I have a source who indicates that they might have found a slave wanting to join up." Yao nodded.

"We'll have to look into that. Even if they change their mind later, it's still worth trying to help free them anyway." Ayshe nodded.

"That's what I was thinking." She said, smiling. "What about you? Have you been feeling better?" Yao rolled his eyes playfully at her.

"I was never sick in the first place, you know." He said. "Just a little hyper, I think." Ayshe raised an eyebrow, reaching up to poke at his hair.

"Not hyper enough to remember to clean your hair, obviously." She snorted. "Come on, Yao, I swear your self-care has degraded immensely in the last few months." Yao frowned, reaching up to also feel his hair. He felt like he had washed it recently, but a quick examination in a nearby mirror made his nose wrinkle a little. Clearly, he was already in need of another shower. He shook it off.

"Well, I do have something that might cheer you up a little." He said, pulling the bottle of pills from his pocket and showing them to her. Ayshe blinked, looking confused for a moment before she read the label.

"…used to treat sleeping difficulties and insomnia…Yao!" she exclaimed the last word, looking delighted as he stowed the bottle away again. "Really?" he sighed, nodding.

"I figured…well…you wanted me to sleep more anyway, and since I have no more night duties…I might as well…" he trailed off. Ayshe looked so touched that he felt his stomach flip pleasantly. Her expression melted into a smile and she moved over and looped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him. He smiled, relaxing immediately as he hugged her back.

"I'm proud of you." She murmured into his ear. "I know it isn't easy to ask for help." He sighed.

"It…it isn't. Thank you, Ayshe."

"You're very welcome."

Travel Office, Mina District,
Bibesti, Rela,
21st Jaune

Lovino scowled, expression growing more and more irritated as he noted the sheer number of people at the transit office that morning. He had no clue why so many people were suddenly keen to leave Bibesti, but he had never seen numbers like this; the queue to get into the travel office backed out into the street and halfway around the block. He cursed. The office closed in an hour – there was no way that he would be able to get served before then. He wasn't the only one feeling anxious. The back half of the line all had drawn expressions and tense shoulders.

He frowned. There was obviously something going on here that he didn't know about – it couldn't be just that the office had a sale going on and everyone here wanted in. Lovino had been around this area at peak hour and barely half the people had been around. Another detail that caught his eye was the appearance of most people in the line. Unlike what he normally saw at offices for inter-national or inter-planetary travel, these people looked…like him. They looked poor. So why were they all looking to go on vacation?

He sighed. He only had four days until the Zephyrak's deadline, and, as much as he hated to bow to her demands, he didn't want to put Feliciano or himself in danger needlessly. They had spent a lot of time on Rela, but the woman was right about one thing – it was dangerous for them to spend a lot of time anywhere, much less to settle and get comfortable. They had even been reckless enough to use their real names (bar the surname) while living here. They might have leased and continued to rent their apartment under false names, but all of the people who knew them knew them by their real names.

Lovino would have whipped himself for that, had he not remembered exactly what it had been like when they'd arrived in Rela. He had been fourteen; Feliciano eleven, and he had been sick of running and hiding. He had known not to lease their apartment under a name even remotely similar to his real one, but when he had introduced himself to their neighbour Sadik, he had slipped up and used his real name. No consequences had ever come of it, so he hadn't seen the harm.

He got the feeling that he had made a mistake in using his real name with Vash. The assassin was calculating to a fault. Lovino didn't doubt that he knew they were Syhvvanian – given that he knew their real names and ages, as well, he probably knew that they were royalty as well. There wasn't really anything he could do about it, though. Vash had been missing for months on his mission with the group who had sought him out, and Lovino was yet to have anyone come after his head (exempting the Zephyrak, of course), so he didn't think that the man cared much for telling the Union about them.

He stretched up on his toes, wishing that he were only a few inches taller so he could see if the cause of the frenzy was at the ticket office. It didn't look any different to normal, though. He frowned. What was going on here? He sighed, glancing at the people in the line. They all looked desperate to get to the front, even though the majority likely wouldn't. Pushing down his dislike of strangers, he approached a man in the line.

"Oi." He asked. The man spun to face him, looking a little afraid as he took in Lovino's rough appearance. Lovino forced himself to relax his shoulders and make his resting scowl a little more neutral. "What the hell is going on? Why is everyone so desperate to get a ticket out of Bibesti?" the man stared at him a moment before his jaw slackened a little.

"You haven't heard?" the man said, expression crumpling into something fearful and wary. "Local travel ministers have been saying that there are pirates incoming in the next few days." Lovino frowned. Rela had planet-wide atmosphere guards. How on earth would pirates be able to get in? He asked as much, and the man sighed. "They mostly have light-weight starships, so they can rush right past all of the security. Not to mention, the High Council allows them three days of free reign per year in exchange for a policy of complete avoidance for the rest of the time." Lovino blinked.

He had heard about the 'Three Day Reign' before, but he and Feliciano had never been present on Rela for it, or, if they had been, they hadn't been in Bibesti. He had known that it was something that no one enjoyed, and so had maintained a reasonable distance whenever it approached. And he had certainly not known that it involved pirates.

"Alright." He said slowly. "So why is everyone booking it right now? I mean no offence, but I don't think that 99% of the people here can afford it." The man sighed, running a hand over his thinning hair.

"We can't, but in the last two years, they've almost exclusively targeted Rela's poorest sections. Since we don't have as much security, it's a lot easier to loot and rape and murder in the poor sectors. Say, where do you live?" Lovino hesitated a moment.

"Uhh, Szwicza." Lovino hunched his shoulder as the people around him, who had obviously been listening in, turned bodily to gawk at him. The man blinked, looking horrified, before reaching out to seize his arm.

"My god, you need to get out! They always go for Szwizca above all other districts. The danger there will be tenfold what it normally is!" Lovino sucked in a breath as the words registered, and he felt his stomach turn over. The man looked over at the office. "Maybe if we explain your situation-"

"Alright, that's it, we're ceasing trading hours for today!" one of the workers in the shop yelled out, prompting a chorus of responses ranging from angry to frustrated to scared to hysterical. Lovino stepped away from the crowd as it swelled and surged forward, countless people trying to restore their hope of leaving the city before the pirates descended on it. Lovino slowly turned to the man, who was watching the ticket office with dismay, but not making a effort to rush forwards with everyone else.

"Sir…" he trailed off. "When are they expected to come? The pirates, I mean?" the man looked over at him, expression sad.

"The…25th? I think?" Lovino swallowed, tasting acid on his tongue.

The world really hated him, didn't it?

Onboard the SS Larcenist,
Outer Space
22nd Jaune

The woman consulted her watch, humming softly to herself as she registered the time. Only a few more days. Only a few more days. Only a few more days.

It was going to be so much fun this year. Bibesti was always a radiant city, and it saddened her somewhat that everyone closed themselves up whenever she and her crew came knocking around. It was nice, though, not having police step in to stop her from having her fun.

They tended to get involved if a Relusian citizen was in dire danger of losing life or limb, or if they were going a little bit overboard, but other than that, they let she and her crew have a lot of fun. Of course, it helped that they liked to target the poorest regions of Bibesti rather than somewhere like, say, the Veroda district. People also made such a fuss when rich people got gutted, but the poor? They could have been cannon fodder for all that the rich cared. She grinned. Ah, the apathy of the wealthy. It was a beautiful thing at times.

She sighed. The Three Day Reign was quickly shaping up to be the highlight of her year. She had seen no-one but her crew members, their prisoners and their victims for so long, she felt like she was going insane. She missed her friends; other pirate Captains who knew what it was like to have to break up fights with their surbordinates and try to divvy up the spoils of a good fight equally while still showing clear favour to certain underlings.

She would have killed to even have run into someone she didn't like much. Cahya Maharani was a bitch but saints, did she have some good stories. She had gone to the Red Pike more often than she usually did – the swanky anchorage held a bar that was frequented by the best pirates in the business, but the most pleasant of the faces she normally saw there had all been absent.

She had made arrangements to see if she had anyone of interest to sell to Jack, but that appointment was still weeks and weeks and weeks away. She missed her rough friend. Not to mention Arthur. The sour Pyndaphian was one of the people she found most bearable, yet he seemed to have dropped off everyone's radars in Fybwari, along with his entire crew.

She rolled her neck, picking at the sleeves of her elaborate red coat. She adored the thing, but hadn't had the chance to show Arthur or Jack yet. They would both approve. They shared her flair for drama.

"Captain Dirie?" A voice behind her said. She spun, facing one of her newer recruits, who looked nearly scared to death to be speaking to her directly. How cute.

"Yes?" she asked, tone casual but laced with danger – it would do this little one good to remember to show her deference. He blanched, hands shaking a little. She smiled slightly, which only seemed to make him even more scared.

"I-I apolog-gise for d-disturbing you, uh, b-but you have an uh-upcoming call with B-Bibesti's travel m-minister soon." She smiled, reaching out to gently pat the man's cheek, making sure her long, sharp nails grazed his skin a little.

"Thank you, darling." She purred. "I'll be right there." She dug the sharp edges of her nails slightly into his cheek, smile deepening as she saw five small spots of blood appear on his cheek. To his credit, he didn't flinch, wince or make a single noise, though his face did go even more pale. She retracted her hand and waved him off, sticking her slightly bloody nail-tips into her mouth as he turned and verifiably bolted for the exit. The taste of metal filled her mouth, and she grinned.

Bibesti would prove a worthy pillage, indeed.