Sorry for the lack of chapter uploads in recent weeks, and for how short this one is. Covid life got me crazy. I feel like I've said this a million times by now but I'm going to work hard at trying to get these out at a more regular rate.

Cheers!

Sans glanced down as Amelie wriggled out from under the dash. She sat up, nodding at the skeleton. "You did a good job fixing the sabotage on the wiring. Still a little off, but that'll only take a couple hours to right fully, but I think I can make it work." Sans gave a small nod, walking outside of the Comet, stepping down into the gulley the crash had formed. Frederick finished walking around the ship, scratching the back of his head. Sans kept his hands tucked in his hoodie pockets.

"Can you fix it?"

Frederick looked down at him. "Fix it? No. Make her fly? Probably. Most we'd be able to get out of her is one jump, then you'd be looking at rebuild of the whole propulsion system."

"One jump…" Sans muttered with a shake of his head. Amelie poked her head out.

"So, that means it's a good thing we know how to get home."

Rocks clattered down the slope of the gulley as Cole slid down, rifle slung over his shoulder. He nodded a greeting.

"How long before she can fly?"

Sans glared at him. "We ain't leaving until we get frisk back."

Cole replied as he slung the backpack off from his other shoulder, taking out several bags.

"I know. Need to get a timeline figured out first though We've put them off for now, but they won't wait to wait around long." He tossed a bag to each of them. "Lunch. May as well eat, no good working on an empty stomach."

Frederick took a deep breath, looking over the battered engines again. "Hard to say. If I work at it non-stop, hell I could probably have her flying before the week's done. Six days enough to work with?"

Cole began climbing out of the gulley. "I'll see what I can do!" He sat at the top as the trio settled down to break for lunch, tuning the radio.

"How's your sister?" Cole glanced at the skeleton's voice. "She's fine. Little headache of course, I'll tell you what though, she is pissed. Definitely not good when you get her angry."

Frederick gave a little chuckle, nudging Amelie. "Sounds like someone else I know." She rolled her eyes, and Sans leaned forward as Cole found the channel he wanted.

"Hey." It was just the one word, but almost immediately he got a response.

"Have you decided to agree to our terms?"

Cole looked to Sans, the skeleton giving a little nod. "Yeah, we have. In the nearby town, there's a scrapyard. Low security, out of the way, we shouldn't be disturbed. We can meet you there in four days. Just need to get some other matters straight first. Sound good?"

"...Deal." Chapman grunted, turning to Renae. "Scrapyard. Local. I want you to take Lance and some more recon. Scope the place, give me the best meeting point. Let's remember that our friend has a home field advantage, so let's be on our toes."

Renae grunted as she stood, giving a curt nod. "Sir." She left to track down Lance. Chapman noticed Deren through the open door of their shuttle, uncertainty flaring in his eyes.

"Something wrong Deren?"

The hawk shook his head. "No sir."

Chapman searched his gaze for but a moment, before giving a little nod. "Good."

Before he could take a seat himself, Renae reappeared, approaching him. She glanced to the ship, keeping her voice low.

"Look I know it might not be right at the time...but something about what Nelson said is bugging me. He made you sound like you were desperate."

Chapman leaned against a tree, trying to act nonchalant. "And…?"

Renae shrugged pointedly. "Are we desperate?"

"What are you trying to say?"

She glanced over her shoulder again before taking a step closer. "If we're in danger...we need to know. Did he find us?"

Chapman was quiet, staring past her. He glanced to the trees before replying. "You already know the answer to that."

Renae took a deep breath, putting both hands behind her head. "Damn...guess it was only a matter of time...how...how long do we have?"

"...I don't know." Chapman couldn't look her in the eye. "Look. Just do your job, and I'll worry about mine. We've got to end this...before it's too late."

In the ship, Frisk gave Alphys a nudge. With how tired she was though, all she could muster was a weary groan. The wound was starting to take its toll. By now it had begun to blacken slightly, and she looked a bit paler than the previous day. He shook his head, staring at the hawk.

"She needs help, don't you see that? I mean you guys have got to have some medical supplies around here!"

Deren didn't meet his gaze, attempting to ignore him. Frisk narrowed his eyes, glancing again to make sure she was still out before speaking again.

"You don't intend on letting her live after all of this, do you? That's why you aren't helping her now isn't it?"

Deren glanced to the door. "We all do what we have to do."

Frisk muttered under his breath, just loud for the hawk to hear.

"But you don't have to do it." More silence. Frisk tried again. "What's the endgame here? You trade me for Sans, kill them both, and then what? We're still going to get home. When we do and Toriel finds out what you did? She's going to make sure nobody stops hunting you!"

Deren glared at Frisk now, firing back. "You aren't going to hunt us. Not you, not anyone."

Frisk scoffed. "What's going to stop us?"

Deren once more fell silent.

"I know you think this is wrong." Frisk tried to make his voice calmer. "I've grown to be able to recognize a soldier when I see one. You're not just some mercenary. What's going on?"

"Something much bigger than you, or me, or any of us." Deren mumbled. "I'd stop talking now if I was you."

After letting out a frustrated grumble, Frisk leaned back again, muttering. "You know you can stop this."

As Frisk let his eyes close, Deren stole one more glance, shaking his head before watching Renae stalk away from Chapman just outside.