Paying Debts
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Shudder
It was Aerrow's turn to look after the prisoner. Radarr was with him. He stood at the gate, occasionally looking at his rival but passed the time looking at the walls, the state of his boots, or the faded cracks on his leather gloves. He wondered if the Dark Ace took proper care of his gloves, his uniform, or if the man just demanded another suit from Master Cyclonis should his old one tear during battle.
It must be nice having privileges like that, never having to worry about money, supplies, or skimmers. He must have a life of luxury on Terra Cyclonia, sapping the money and energy that his Master was taking from the rest of the Atmos. Or maybe he was the type of guy who lived frugally, who gave his loyalty and took nothing but his pay.
The bottom line was, Aerrow didn't know.
Storm Hawk and Cyclonian standing together in one room with a few metal bars between them. The Dark Ace kept his face impassive; he wasn't in the mood to taunt the redheaded whelp and his strange pet today. It was a waste of energy, and there were ideas rotating inside his mind to keep him occupied rather than staring at the Sky Knight for hours.
The Talon Commander wondered if the young one figured it out yet. In some ways, (some of them much more sinister) they were alike. He assumed not. If the kid knew what really happened to the former Storm Hawks, if he really knew what happened to the Sky Knight that came before him he was sure Aerrow would have a harder time standing in this room – allowing him to stay on the Condor without repercussions.
Ah well, it was only a matter of time.
They were so easy to entice, to bribe. Each and every one of them, except for the Merb, he could pull secrets out of mouths like long ribbons of silk. Disgusting, pitiful orphan stories and dream of the future, but secrets nonetheless.
Supplies – he had them. There was a pen from Piper, a stick of gum from the blond, and a pad of stationary from Aerrow for starters. And the best part was, none of them knew.
Someone knocked on the door, a voice called out for Aerrow. Of course, it was Piper. It was time to eat and she had both their plates ready for them.
Such a sweet girl, that Piper. The door opened, and Aerrow took the dishes off her hands.
A pity Aerrow still acted so young. Even with his back turned on the Cyclonian, he both saw and heard the sparkle of affection in his voice. He found it in hers as well. And to stir up the event, the Dark Ace brushed off the imaginary dust on his pants, straightened his back and addressed her.
"Thank you, Piper."
Aerrow's green eyes turned cold; an icicle pierced his chest when Piper said,
"You're welcome."