Alfor had done a lot of very stupid things in his short nineteen deca-phoebs in the universe. He was, in fact, told almost once a movement that something he was doing was incredibly dumb. Oftentimes Alfor didn't agree with that.

But this?

This had to be one of the stupidest things he had ever managed.

"Stay calm," said Coran. "Your sword is connected to your quintessence and your quintessence is connected to your emotions – another shockwave like the last one could blow the whole ship to smithereens!"

Alfor nodded hesitantly. "Right, yes."

"Maybe just let go of the sword?" said Coran.

"And lose our only leverage?" Alfor protested.

It was certainly the wrong thing to say, going by Coran's expression. "What leverage?"

"You blow up this ship, boy, and you die too," warned one of the Qadorians.

Alfor had no intentions of blowing up the ship. He did not want to die, and he did not want Coran to die – and honestly, he did not want anyone to die. The Qadorians didn't need to know that, though.

"I am aware," said Alfor.

He shot his friend a look. Coran caught on very quickly, which was good, because Coran was a much better actor and liar than he was. "That's right. We're willing to die for the sake of our mission! Can you say the same?"

Many of the Qadorians exchanged uneasy looks. Coran smirked triumphantly. Alfor had figured this would be the case – the Qadorians were bandits and pirates, and their loyalty evidently only extended so far.

"We won't stop you from fleeing," Alfor offered innocently, which was true. They were only really here for the leader.

"I might," said a new voice. Alfor tightened his grip on the sword as the leader of the Qadorian bandits walked out of the room he'd been in and smiled almost pleasantly, spreading all four of his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Prince Alfor. A pleasure to see you again."

"I'm afraid the sentiment is not shared," said Alfor warily.

"I see you brought a friend," said the leader.

"I can blow this whole thing to pieces," threatened Alfor. "And what's more – my father will triple the Altean firepower against you. He will blame you and your men for my death."

"You wouldn't," said the leader.

"You severely underestimate Alfor's stupidity and recklessness," said Coran flatly.

Alfor shot his best friend an annoyed look.

"I suppose it isn't a risk I can take, is it?" said the leader. "Very well. What do you want, boy?"

"Er, well – we came to capture you," said Alfor. "So if you come with us, your men will be spared."

The leader looked highly unimpressed. "You expected two children to be able to capture me?"

Alfor decided against protesting about the children comment, and also against admitting that he was originally coming alone.

"Well, I wouldn't say we're doing a bad job," said Alfor.

"Unfortunately, your gamble will not pay off," said the leader. He nodded his head.

Coran's brow furrowed, then his eyes widened in shock. "Alfor, watch out! Behind you!"

"What?" managed Alfor, before he was grabbed from behind and thrown across the room. He hit the wall hard. Unluckily enough, he'd kept his grip on his sword, and now the fuel was spewing into the room as if from a geyser.

"Seal that!" demanded the leader. "Grab the prince. Dispose of the orange one. He is unnecessary."

"No!" Alfor shouted. He forced his way past several Qadorians, doing his best not to cause permanent damage but also to knock them out. He needn't have worried too much about Coran, because his friend had already fought away from his would-be captors. Alfor ran at the leader instead. The man drew dual knives to block his attack.

"Foolish boy!" he snarled. "You are outnumbered."

"And you can't use guns," Alfor noted smugly. "One wrong move will blow up all the fuel."

The man kicked Alfor's feet from under him, pinning him to the ground. Alfor struggled against him and realised in dread that he'd fallen right into the puddle of fuel on the floor.

"I don't want to kill you, boy," said the leader. "You're right that King Almir would retaliate with the full force of his army, and I don't want that. That doesn't mean you're safe."

He withdrew one of his knives, and before Alfor could react he stabbed it into Alfor's upper arm, effectively leaving that arm trapped to the floor. Alfor cried out in pain.

"Alfor!" yelled Coran in alarm.

Alfor was not going to lose again. He readjusted his grip on his sword to use it with his good arm, and then blindly pulled it away. The Qadorian hissed and leaned back, a new, bleeding wound across his chest. Alfor swallowed harshly. He hadn't meant to do that.

He transferred the sword to his bad arm, then reached over to yank out the knife and unpin himself. He knocked the Qadorian off of him and stood shakily. His arm was wet from more than the fuel now, the blood dripping down his armour in crimson rivulets.

Coran ran to his side, clearly ready for a fight. "Are you okay?"

"It's just a little stab wound," reasoned Alfor. "I'll be fine."

Coran scoffed and grabbed Alfor's arm to examine it. "

"You're outnumbered," said the Qadorian leader. He was very clearly furious. "You're injured. You cannot win."

"Maybe not alone," Alfor said.

"But he is not alone!" came the familiar albeit surprising voice of Zarkon. Alfor turned his head as the rest of the Alliance ran into view, all four ready for battle. Along with them was a squad of Altean soldiers and Alfor's father. Alfor met his eyes, and he offered him a small smile before his face turned dark and angry again.

The Qadorian leader snarled. "Back-up! You brought back-up!"

"Of course they did," said Trigel, although her sharp glare told Alfor that she knew very well that he had never planned to tell them about his plan. "Now, surrender."

"I think not," said the Qadorian. "Men! Attack!"

The Qadorians rushed at the Altean squad and the rest of the Alliance. Meanwhile, their leader lunged at Alfor and Coran again. They split apart to dodge, and the Qadorian turned his attention onto only Alfor. Thus he was caught off-guard when one of Coran's shots caught him in the back. He stumbled and turned angrily.

"Careful," he hissed. "Your friend is covered in fuel."

Coran's expression hardened. "Yes, well, Alfor has a surprising ability to survive explosions. Do you?"

The leader scowled, the made a strange clicking sound that drew a couple of Qadorian soldiers back to them. "Take care of the orange one. The prince has been more of a problem than I imagined. I will end him."

Oh, dear.

Alfor was in trouble.

At least, aside from the fact that Alfor was a terribly inexperienced fighter, they were both at equal disadvantage. Well, not really. Alfor was already feeling dizzy from blood loss. That wasn't good at all. The Qadorian wasn't losing nearly as much blood.

If he could just stun him…

"Coran!" he yelled, suddenly struck with an idea. "Throw me one of your guns!"

"What!?" said Coran, busily fighting off two Qadorians with the sword he'd brought along. "No! The guns are a bad idea!"

"Just trust me!" Alfor insisted.

Coran shot him the look that said he did not trust him in the slightest, but threw him a gun anyway. Alfor was… well, not the best with guns, but he didn't actually need to be. He aimed it at the Qadorian.

"Are you going to shoot me?" he laughed incredulously. "Standing in all that fuel? Covered in it? Go ahead, boy, shoot."

Oh, Alfor hoped this gun didn't have any sort of backfire that would set him on fire.

He pulled the trigger.

The Qadorian's eyes widened, and he dove to the side to dodge. The shot of energy hit the wall, and luckily nothing exploded or caught on fire. Alfor tried again, and the Qadorian snarled and ran towards him after dodging.

Alfor didn't react in time, and the Qadorian pinned him to the floor again. Alfor grimaced as they both skidded backwards in the liquid fuel, and the Qadorian used two of his arms to trap Alfor's, raising his one remaining knife with the other two.

"Stupid child," he said. "It's over."

"Alfor!" came his father's alarmed and horrified voice.

"I am not a child," Alfor gritted out. He carefully readjusted his grip on the gun, and prayed that his aim was true. "But you're right. It is over."

The blast of energy hit the Qadorian in the chest, which wasn't the plan, but it did manage to knock him off Alfor and into a wall, where he slumped, unconscious. Alfor let out a breath until he realised in alarm that the gun had caught fire.

The gun had caught fire.

And Alfor was laying in an ever-spreading puddle of very flammable fuel.

Which was now also catching fire.

Alfor quickly scrambled away, dropping the gun because it wasn't like that would make things worse, everything was on fire anyway. He was glad his armour wasn't flammable, and he'd long since made his undersuit fireproof as well–

He still caught sight of the flames on his arm and panicked.

"Quiznak, quiznak, quiznak," he yelped, shaking his arm.

"Stay calm," exclaimed Coran, who looked very close to panicking himself. "Put on your helmet before the flames spread to a part of you that can get burned, and you'll be fine."

Alfor summoned his helmet as calmly as he could manage and quickly put it on. He was suddenly very thankful for all of his many disasters in the lab and elsewhere that had led to him fireproofing his armour, because the flames were spreading to every bit of fuel on him.

"Alfor, come this way," called his father. Now that their leader had been knocked out, the Qadorians seemed much less willing to fight. Not to mention it seemed many of them had been knocked out of killed in the battle. "We must leave."

"I am on fire," Alfor said. "I don't see how you expect me to just walk over there."

"There's no time, kid, come on!" said Blaytz.

Alfor looked around for something, anything to help him. Whatever room the leader was in, another weird room, an airlock, another–

Before he could even think of a solution, he was suddenly doused in what seemed to be some sort of foam. He blinked in surprise. Fala, holding what looked somewhat similar to an Altean fire extinguisher, smiled sweetly at him.

"I thought that would work," she said. "Glad it did. Come on, we have to get out of here."

"Fala – you – when did you get here?" he asked, before realising belatedly she was wearing the same uniform as the other Altean soldiers, which answered his question.

"Kid, quit dawdling!" shouted Blaytz in annoyance.

"Right, yes," he said. He glanced back hesitantly at the Qadorian leader, still unconscious.

"Leave him," said Fala, grabbing his hand and dragging him away.

"But–" Alfor protested.

"She's right," said Coran.

Alfor pressed his lips together and nodded. He and Fala and Coran quickly joined the others and they took off away from the still-flaming fuel. Alfor was pretty sure the ship was going to explode pretty soon.

He was right. Not five doboshes after they'd loaded onto the ship Alfor's father and the Alliance and Alteans had brought, the Qadorian ship exploded spectacularly behind them. Alfor watched sadly. He hadn't meant for the Qadorian leader to die – for any of the Qadorians to die.

Coran finished wrapping bandages around his arm, something he'd started on as soon as they'd gotten on the ship. "You're not hiding any other injuries?"

"No," murmured Alfor. "I'm fine."

He was startled by a hand on his shoulder. Alfor reached up to remove his helmet and turn to face his father. The stern expression did not bode well for Alfor's chances of staying a member of the Alliance.

"Father, I…" he said awkwardly.

"You went off on your own again," said Father.

Alfor lowered his head.

"It was reckless and stupid of you," Father said. "But… in the end you did well. I believe the Qadorians will stop now. I know you didn't want any of them to die. Take this as a lesson, my son. Acting without thinking almost always ends badly."

"Yes, Father," mumbled Alfor.

"Despite it all, I am proud of you," said Father, smiling fondly at him. Alfor looked up at him in surprise. "You have much to learn, but you are learning. Don't worry. Your place with the Alliance is secure."

Alfor's heart swelled with relief, and he hugged his father. "Thank you, Father!"

Father laughed as he pulled back. "Well, then, now we both need to go wash up, don't we? Come along, then. Luckily this ship has a decontamination room."

Alfor smiled. "Lead the way."

A/N: You guys have no idea how long it took me to dig myself out of the hole I dug myself into writing this chapter. I researched flames in space for a while before scrapping that idea and bringing Fala in XD. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! One of three tonight!

Headcanons:
Alfor is a genius but also an idiot.
Alfor thinks Coran is a fantastic actor. Is he? Um, no, not really, but say that in front of Alfor and he will fight you.
Alfor blows things up and lights things on fire often, hence why his armour and suit are fireproof (and, fun fact, so is much of his usual outfit, because his lab is where he usually blows things up).
Fala kicks ass, fight me.

Hope you enjoyed!