A/N: I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written for any fic. Wowza.


"What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room," Dunban said, his eyes closed, elbows perched on his knees and chin resting atop his clasped hands. "We do not speak of it unless we are alone. Secrecy is of the utmost importance."

"Dunban, you're scaring me. Just tell us what's going on." Fiora urged from across the room.

He winced at the anguish in her tone. This — what he was about to divulge — would hurt her. And he was the one to blame. He had willingly painted a target on his back and now his sister would suffer the consequences. Dunban had no doubt she would now have a target of her own as well. But even before considering herself, she would worry over him nonstop. And they already had enough to worry about these days.

Sighing, he opened his eyes. He studied his sister, who leaned forward on the sofa, hands gripping her knees to point her knuckles whitened, her gaze trained on him. The orange-yellow light from the small lamp on the end table streamed across her face, accentuating the dark shadows under her eyes and the tremble of her lips. Already anticipating what was to come.

Then he looked at Melia, who sat adjacent to Fiora. The princess was as still as a statue, face perfectly blank, awaiting his story. As if he were about to tell the most banal tale. Her eyes flicked to a spot over his shoulder, then returned to his face. He didn't need to look to know Tyrea was pacing in the shadows. Though her footsteps made no noise, he could feel the rage rolling off her, but he knew it wasn't directed at him.

That didn't make it any less dangerous.

"After Kallian and his squadron arrived, we formulated a plan to attack the fortress, find the ether artifact, and escape. We were still outnumbered, but we were confident that the casualties we would sustain would be minimal. Myself, Sharla, Frye, and Reyn were tasked to set explosive charges around the fortress. Tyrea was to locate and retrieve the ether artifact. Kallian and his soldiers were to distract the Ganglion soldiers. They split into two groups: one to lead the bulk of them away from the fortress and the other to fight those remaining as a distraction so we could accomplish our goals. Sunset was at 19:30 and we launched the assault just after 20:00." His lips creased into a grim line. "Everything happened so fast."

Chaos. Everywhere.

Screams, gunfire, combat. The sounds of warfare swirled around Dunban as he rushed out of the fortress tower where he'd just set and armed his share of the explosives. A guttural battle cry to his right blared in his ears and he whipped around. A Prone soldier lunged at him, arms outstretched to tackle him to the ground. Dunban sidestepped, grabbed the Prone's shoulders, and slammed them down into the dirt. The Prone soldier struggled against him, straining to grab his neck, cold hands scraping at his hot skin. Dunban jerked his head to the side and smashed his fist into the Prone's face, knocking them out cold.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins; his survival instinct activated. He scrambled to his feet just as another Prone emerged from the neighboring tower and caught sight of him. Dunban pulled his rifle from his back and shot three rounds. The Prone dropped, dead.

He clicked his gun once more. Out of ammo.

Cursing, he slung it over his shoulder. He needed to check with the others, see if they had completed—

"NO YOU DON'T, ARSEHOLE!" Reyn shouted.

Dunban twisted around to see a Prone soldier charging him, sword raised high in the air. The Prone shot forward, the element of surprise blown. Dunban scrambled, grabbing for his knife. The pepper of gunfire split the air. The Prone stopped mid-stride and crumbled to their knees. They fell face forward, the dark bullet holes in their back immediately recognizable by the blood that oozed from them.

Reyn hurried towards his captain, cradling the rifle at his side. "Are you okay, sir?"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

Reyn nodded, looking down at the Prone, his brow furrowing.

Dunban scanned the courtyard: everywhere he looked High Entia and Prone were locked in combat. Across the field, he caught sight of Sharla rushing out of another tower; she must have set her explosives. That left Frye, who would know to meet them at the speeders.

But where the hell was Tyrea? They'd agreed to meet in front of his target when finished.

"Reyn, find Kallian and get everyone out. I'm going to look for Tyrea." Dunban unclipped the pistol from his belt. He wouldn't leave her behind. Not for Melia's sake.

"Let me come with you! I'll watch your back."

"No, I'll meet you at the gate," Dunban commanded.

"You could be walking into a trap," Reyn argued.

"We don't have time for this. Go to the gate. That is an order." Dunban barked. "If we're not there in ten, blow it all."

"No ya don't." A new voice interrupted.

The click of a safety turned off echoed in Dunban's ears. Slowly, Dunban turned to see Frye pointing his BLADE-issued pistol at Dunban's head. "Looks like yer not goin' home this time."

Dunban's blood turned cold.

"Dude, what're you doing?" Reyn exclaimed.

"Take a walk, kid," Frye said, attention not leaving Dunban.

"Put the gun down, Frye," Dunban narrowed his eyes. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"No can do." The hulking soldier shook his head, his firing arm implacably still. He gestured to Dunban's pistol.

Dunban didn't move.

"Drop it or I shoot the newbie." Frye smacked his lips, almost bored as he pointed his rifle at Reyn.

"Sir..." Reyn trailed off, staring at the weapon aimed at him.

"Everything's going to fine, Reyn," Dunban said calmly. Frye gestured to the pistol again. Muttering a curse, Dunban dropped his weapon to the ground. He wouldn't let Reyn die. And he had no plans to go back to NLA in a body bag. He just needed time to figure out a way out of this. Keep Frye talking and just maybe he could find an opening.

The background sounds of battle blended into white noise as he stared at the barrel of Frye's gun. It glinted silver in the harsh neon lights surrounding the fortress. One shot could end his life for good. His heart stuttered in his chest. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not supposed to say."

"What does it matter if I'm a dead man anyway?"

"I've never been one fer cloak 'n dagger shit." Frye spat. "You kill a man, ya best do it in his chest, not his back."

"And what about this?" Reyn demanded.

"Business."

"This is Maurice, isn't it?" Dunban said, the gears of his mind turning. "That's why you were added to the team. Not for your explosives expertise. But to kill me."

"It's nothing personal." Frye shrugged. "Maurice is gonna set me up real nice when I get back to NLA. All I gotta do is take you out 'n make it look like it was one of these fuckers." He nodded to the Ganglion fortress.

"So you're just a hitman now?" Dunban ground his teeth. "A mercenary for hire?" He had to stall. If he could distract Frye…

"Yeah well when yer home gets blown up by a buncha bastards and yer spendin' the rest of yer life prayin' yer gonna live, ya take the good life opportunities that come ta yah."

"You're not killing him." Reyn glared, and trained his rifle on Frye.

"Reyn," Dunban warned.

Frye laughed. "Wow, ya got some fire in ya, lad! Just thought it was all fer show for that chick."

"Her name is Sharla," Reyn growled, hand tightening on the gun.

"You're not gonna shoot me," Frye said, sauntering over to Reyn, his pistol still leveled at Dunban. He stopped right in front of the rifle, pushing his chest against the barrel, and dropped his own that was trained on Reyn. "Go on. I'm not even aimin' at ya no more."

Reyn dared a glance between Frye and Dunban. His finger hovered over the trigger. Dunban locked eyes with the young man and shook his head. Reyn wasn't ready to bear such a burden of killing what was supposed to be a comrade.

Jaw clenched, Reyn lowered his rifle.

"See? Ya can't do it. All talk. No action." Frye sneered. "And I'll take care of ya after I do 'im." He raised the rifle back on Reyn and turned his attention back to Dunban.

Dunban's eyes flicked to his pistol on the ground. If he could just dive for it—

"Time fer lights out." Frye smirked. His finger slipped over the trigger.

"Think again."

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the air. Dunban flinched. But the pain didn't come. He felt his face and looked down at his armored chest: no bullet.

And yet, a few feet away, a crimson-stained shell glinted in the grass.

Confused, he glanced back at Frye. Blood gushed down his face from the gaping wound in his forehead, a clear hole originating at the back of his head. His eyes frozen in horror as rivers of red streamed between them. His body collapsed to the ground, still.

Dunban followed the arm that held the smoking pistol, all the way up to Sharla's face. Slowly, she lowered her gun, stone-faced, though Dunban could see the slight tremble in the hand that clutched the gun.

"Sharla..." Reyn gasped, wiping the splatter of Frye's blood from his cheek. "Are you okay?"

Dunban knew she wasn't. She'd killed a fellow soldier, intentionally. Yes, Frye was going to murder him on Maurice's orders, but she had gone against the military code of protecting your brothers-in-arms until the bitter end.

But there was no time to discuss it.

"Reyn, you and Sharla get back to the speeders—"

"This whole place is about to blow. We need to leave now." Tyrea raced towards them. She skidded to a stop at the sight of Frye's body. "What the fuck happened?"

"He tried to kill Dunban." Reyn supplied, still focused on Sharla.

"Why? What did he want?" Tyrea seethed, glaring at the body.

"Later. Did you get the artifact?" Dunban demanded.

"No. They escaped with it."

Dunban cursed and shook his head. "We're out of time. Let's go."

And they ran.

"Maurice put a hit out on you?" Fiora whispered.

He could hear the tremble in her voice, see how her eyes shined with unshed tears. She was trying to be strong, to not let him see how terrified she was. Terrified that there were enemies within the city, within the sanctuary on this foreign planet on which they were already prey to a deadly hunter. No doubt she was coming to the realization that nowhere was truly safe.

Bitterness coated his tongue. All of this fighting with Maurice had led to the elimination of the one safe haven there was for them. And he claimed that all he wanted to do was keep her safe.

God, he was a hypocrite.

The reality was crashing down on her. It would only be a matter of time until she came upon the question that had haunted him on the long drive back to NLA: when would Maurice try again? Because there was no doubt in Dunban's mind that he would.

"It would appear so. Especially considering what Melia messaged me." He turned his attention towards the stoic High Entia. "Unfortunately, I didn't see it until it was too late."

"I apologize." Melia shook her head. Her tone was flat and her face shrouded in darkness, making it impossible to read her.

"It's not your fault. You found out only when you did. If the blame lies anywhere, it's with me for not seeing the message sooner." The last thing he wanted was for her to bear any guilt for something that he could have prevented.

"Based on the conversation, it seems Maurice questioned whether or not he believed Frye would accomplish his mission."

"Kill Dunban, blame it on the Ganglion, fuel his support. It's a triple win for him." Tyrea snarled. "Someone needs to eliminate him."

"Tyrea," Melia warned, eying her sister.

"Don't deny that you didn't think the same thing."

"How is Sharla?" Melia pointedly changed the subject, turning her gaze back on Dunban.

"She didn't speak the entire trip back. I think having one of our own turn traitor was a shock to her. Especially when we are all trying to survive."

"I need to shower and sleep. Good night." Tyrea announced and turned on her heel, heading for the stairs.

"Wait, Tyrea." Melia jumped up and followed her sister.

Dunban glanced over at his own sister, who had not spoken again. Her eyes were unfocused, a lost look on her face. She had wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her sides as if she were hanging on for dear life. He could only assume she was doing some spiraling of her own.

He crossed the room and took the open seat on the sofa next to her. "Are you okay?"

"What do you think?" She asked, quiet.

"I'm so sorry, Fiora."

"Dunban, he tried to kill you. He wanted to murder you. He wants to have you murdered." Her voice cracked, a partial sob tagging the end of her sentence.

A knife twisted in his heart and he lay a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"What would've happened if Sharla hadn't been there? You would be dead. And not because of the Ganglion, but because of Maurice." Fiora clutched her nightshirt in her hands and twisted the fabric. "He's supposed to be on our side!"

"Fiora, I won't let him hurt us."

Her head shot up, and he could see her the tears streaming down her cheeks, but the expression she wore was not one of anguish, but anger. "He is dangerous, Dunban. You don't know what he's going to do and I refuse to wait and see what he's going to do next. He is not going to take my brother away from me!"

"Fiora…" And he enveloped her in a hug. Words failed him as he wrapped his arms around her. Simultaneously he was overwhelmed by the gratitude of his sister's loyalty but also the immense guilt that he had destroyed her innocence. A lie in the military and now one in politics left no one unscathed, even those on the periphery.

Fiora's arms tightened around Dunban. "You can't die, okay? You can't." She managed in a wavering voice.

"I won't."

They stayed like that for a minute and eventually she pulled back. Looking up into his face, Fiora murmured, "We can't trust anyone, can we?"

"Just the team and a few others," Dunban confirmed. "I need you to promise me that you'll always be with one of them, whenever you're out in the city. I don't want you going out alone."

Wiping away her tears, she nodded. Another pang of shame ran through him. Here he was again responsible for his sister's isolation. She had grown up with almost no friends and now, when they were on the brink of extinction, she still couldn't fully engage in the only community available. And it was all his fault.

"I can get Shulk to help me install a security system in the house tomorrow." Fiora stood, wiping the rivers of tears from her cheeks.

"That would be...really helpful. Thank you."

Rubbing her arms, she sighed. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"So am I."

"I'm gonna try and get some sleep."

"How about I make pancakes tomorrow morning?" He suggested. Her favorite comfort food as a kid.

"I'd like that." She smiled. "Goodnight, Dunban."

"Goodnight, Fiora."

She rose from the sofa and padded towards the stairs, passing Melia, who leaned against the wall, quietly waiting. Awash of relief coursed through him as his eyes trailed over Melia's figure. She had stayed. He wasn't sure she would after the story he told. Would she want to involve herself in this complicated web of betrayal and death? Or was it too much effort given everything else she was already managing?

"How is Tyrea?" He asked and walked over.

"She is...angry. If she could remove Maurice from this planet without repercussions, she would." Melia stated.

"And how are you?" He held out his hand, his nerves spiking.

Without hesitation, she slipped hers into it, and his body breathed a sigh of relief. "I understand that this is not possible, but I am of the same mindset."

A thrill ran through him at the thought of her defending him. Or rather, taking revenge for him. Not something he should entertain, but he knew he would do the same if she were in his position. He still wanted to for all the pain the Ganglion had caused Melia during her brief period in captivity.

"You have been through quite an ordeal. If you're tired, we can speak in the morning." She proposed, her ever-observant eyes regarding him in a way that sent an electric charge down his spine.

Something in him said he should wait until morning, that he should go straight to bed and think about everything that happened. Come up with a plan of attack — figuratively speaking — where Maurice was concerned.

But all he wanted to do was forget the world and spend time with her. Because he'd almost died. No, he would be selfish now.

"After everything, I don't want to wait." He pulled her close and breathed her in; she was wearing something that smelled akin to lavender. As her body folded against his, soft and delicate, he felt himself unwind and his arms wrapped around her. This. This is what he wanted. This is what he—

A stabbing pain sparked up his arm and he winced, seizing back from her. Her brow furrowing into concern. "Are you alright?"

"It's my arm." He sighed as a fresh, new wave of guilt rushed to overwhelm him. Now he would have to admit what he'd been hiding. He hoped Melia wouldn't be too upset with him. "It's been giving me pain for the past week."

"The past week?" Her gaze sharpened and she withdrew. He fought the urge to reach back out to her and pull her close.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I...didn't want to worry you." He averted his gaze from her now icy blue eyes and rubbed his arm, willing away the stabbing needles of pain.

"I see."

Swallowing, he forced himself to look at her once more, but saw her observing him massaging his shoulder. "It'll pass in a bit."

"Did they not give you anything for the pain?"

"They did, some pills. But I'm not taking them."

"Why?"

He swallowed, unsure of how to explain. "The medication has side effects. They are…" He exhaled. Now he was just a burden to everyone he cared for: Fiora and Melia. "They increase mood variability. I'm worried I won't be able to control my anger."

Melia's lips creased into a thin line as she studied his face. Again, her face was a perfect mask of blankness, no feature giving away the thoughts that swirled underneath the surface. What he wouldn't give to know what was going on in her mind at the moment. Or maybe he didn't want to know. Was she reconsidering their whole relationship—

"Maybe there is a way I can help. I can use my ether." She offered, her hand coming to rest on his injured shoulder.

"You're still recovering," Dunban shook his head, although he leaned into her touch.

"Actually, my recovery is almost complete. And I would like to help relieve you of your pain." Her face morphed into a refined plea. "Would you allow me to do this for you?"

Whether it was the sweetness in her voice or the gentleness in her gaze, Dunban found himself momentarily tongue-tied. Heat crept up his cheeks as he lost himself in her eyes. Clearing his throat, he managed, "Well...if you're certain, then I gladly accept. What do you need me to do?"

"Oh um...well I need to touch your shoulder."

He looked down at his bloodied battle-armor. He'd forgotten the state of his attire. "Right. Let me just shower and change."

With a promise to meet in fifteen minutes, they separated, heading to their separate bedrooms. Quickly he shucked off his armor and hopped into the shower, washing away the dirt and grime and blood and sweat of the past 72 hours. Washing away the evidence of the mission gone wrong, the mission that had sought to claim his life. The mission that had turned his already confusing life upside down. He'd managed to avoid death's call once more. How many more times would he be so lucky?

He leaned against the wall of the shower, under the cascading waterfall, lost in thought. He had to be more careful now, for Fiora's sake. Now that he knew the lengths Maurice was willing to go, he still had to protect her. Where was the balance?

Flicking the switch for the shower off, he groaned. It was an impossible quandary, and one he was too tired to ruminate on. It could wait until tomorrow. For now, he had more pleasant things to anticipate.

Such as Melia's visit.

He quickly dried off and changed into boxers and sweatpants then sent her a message that he was done. As he hit the send button, his stomach flipped. It was late and he was inviting her into his room. Not that he expected anything to happen, but the implication...he wondered if she would suggest they sit in the living room. Maybe he should. He didn't want her to feel pressured into anything.

The knock on his door caused his heart to skip a beat. Eager, he rushed and opened the door. Melia was there, holding her staff in hand, light blue silk robe tied around her, hair bound up in a messy bun revealing the elegant slope of her neck.

"Did you want to...do this out in the living room?" He asked.

"What would be most comfortable for you?" She asked. "I assume our housemates are also not aware of your pain?"

He could hear the slight edge of annoyance in her voice and he winced. "You make a fair point. Come in," he stood to the side, offering her entry.

With a nod, she glided inside and he closed the door, then moved to take a seat on the bench at the foot of his bed.

He watched as her eyes darted around the room, considering her surroundings as she ambled over to him. Once she sat, he noticed she gave him a once-over glance, eyes roaming his shirtless state. He smirked; he would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased that she was studying his physique. But then he saw her eyes pause on the scars that danced across his left rib cage.

"Hope you don't mind damaged goods," he commented with a mirthless laugh.

She narrowed her eyes. "Do not speak of yourself in such a way. Scarring is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially from battle; it is the mark of a warrior."

Embarrassed, he stared down at his hands. "You're right. I just...I want to be worthy of you." He muttered, rolling his right hand into a fist, flexing against the pain in his arm.

"You are."

The conviction in her voice touched an injured part of his heart like a gentle caress. He wasn't sure what it was, this feeling spurring within him. An emotion that tightened his chest. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"It's your right shoulder?" She prompted.

He nodded and peeked at her. The princess toyed with the staff in her hands, then put it to the side.

"You're not using your staff?"

"It's simpler with healing magic to use my hands, especially when the pain is localized."

Silent, the man watched as she closed her eyes and her forehead creased in concentration. He'd seen her summon ether before, but only for battle purposes. He wondered if it was the same process for healing magic.

Out of thin air, a green energy ball appeared between her hands, pulsing and vibrating. Slowly, she opened her eyes, then maneuvered the amorphous energy ball over his shoulder. With care, she dragged it over his skin, giving his shoulder a green glow as she moved the ether around his injury.

"It tickles." He murmured.

"Is the great Dunban ticklish?" Melia cocked an eyebrow.

"Maybe. Are you?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." She looked at him from under her lashes. "I leave it to you to discover the truth."

"Is that an invitation?" He held her gaze, leaning forward.

"If you believe you are equipped for the challenge." She smirked and held his gaze a second longer, then returned her focus to her work. The ticklish, fuzzy feeling passed, leaving an overwhelming coolness in its wake, a refreshing quality that poured down his arm, dispelling all his pain.

He hummed, contented.

"I wish you had shared with me the truth about your arm," Melia remarked.

"This pain is from the replacement I had installed after the fight with Goetia. And then you were unwell, and then the mission. I just...didn't want to burden you with this. I'm sorry."

"A pillar of relationships is to support each other's burdens, no?" He nodded in agreement and she continued, "I have my own confession to make. I…I am plagued by nightmares. About my captivity. About Goetia."

"I thought you might. Why didn't you want to tell me?" He asked, reaching out with his left hand and placing it on her knee, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I almost did. I had the first one the evening I returned from the clinic. But I knew you had already spent several days worrying over me, and had rescued me and put your position in danger. I didn't want to burden you further. And I hoped the nightmares would simply disappear. But it seems that is a fool's wish."

"Two peas in a pod, aren't we," He chuckled.

"I'm sorry?" Melia glanced at him, confused.

"It means we're alike. We're so worried about burdening each other, that we suffer in silence."

"I...wish I could disagree but that does seem to be the case."

"Shall we start over? Would you be amenable to that? This time actually being honest with what's going on for either of us?" Dunban asked, feeling his stomach flip flop as the words left his mouth.

"Yes...I would like that." She lifted her hands and the green ether energy disappeared.

"That feels much better, thank you." He said, rolling his shoulder. And it did. There was no trace of any pain or discomfort left. "You're a miracle worker."

"Hardly. It's basic first aid training." She shrugged, curling a stray hair behind her ear.

"All the same, I appreciate it. I appreciate you wanting to take care of me." He took her now unoccupied hands in his, relishing in the closeness.

"I'm happy to do this daily if you like."

"I don't want to exhaust you."

"It would not, truthfully." Melia shook her head. "And it would be my pleasure."

A warmth seeped into his core. The offer was enticing, an excuse to spend more time with her, and time with her in private. Dunban ran his thumb over her knuckles; he looked forward to the future moments like this.

"It is late. You should rest." She advised.

Yet he was not ready to let her go. Yes, the day was barely five hours away, but he wanted more time with her — craved it even — especially after the events of the past few days.

However, she was right. His muscles groaned, weary, and he could feel sleep attempting to drag his eyes shut.

An idea grew and blossomed in his mind, one he wasn't sure how it would be received. He turned it over, contemplated the various reactions she would have. It was odd how strong the desire was to stay with her, but if she wished to leave, he would not stop her. Still, he hoped she would not.

Taking a breath, Dunban squeezed her hand, drawing her attention. She gazed at him with those penetrating eyes. "Melia, you said you are having nightmares. I know this is...unconventional, but I was wondering if you'd like to stay with me tonight. Sleep here, with me."

"Oh…" Her eyes widened and her lips parted into a lovely 'o' shape.

No, that had been the wrong move. He backpedaled and rushed: "I'm sorry, that was— I apologize. I just want to help you as you helped me. Forget I mentioned it."

Why on earth did he think that was a good idea? It would've been better if he'd let her return to her room without making a fool of himself, making her uncomfortable, making it awkward between them. This was exactly why he was no good at relationships. Always too quick to jump — the irony being he proceed with caution in every other facet of his life. Now she would think he was only after one thing.

He felt her hand squeeze his. Startled, he looked down at their still embraced hands.

"No, Dunban, it's quite alright. It's very thoughtful of you." Melia soothed. Maybe his panic was fully evident. "I was simply not prepared for such a request."

His heart faltered in his chest and he withdrew his hand from hers, studying the lines on his calloused palms. "If I'm being completely honest, I'm also asking selfishly. After everything that's happened...I just want to be close to you."

"Certainly then."

His head snapped up. Had he heard correctly? "You'll stay?"

"I am grateful for your honesty." Melia clasped her hands together and blushed. "I would enjoy being close to you this night as well."

That was music to his ears.

Immediately the air changed: a charged anticipation hung around them. Gracefully, she slipped the robe off her shoulders and he moved to take it. Despite his best efforts to not stare, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her form clad in an emerald green chemise dress.

"Thank you."

Swallowing, he turned away to hang up the robe and extinguish the lights. And in the darkness, he made his way around the room and slid into bed.

Despite the oppressive blackness, he could make out her svelte figure next to him. She lay on her back, head slightly tilted upward.

His pulse quickened, feeling her shift on the mattress just inches away. Forcing his voice to not waver, he asked, "Do you want to come closer?"

"Oh, um...I...yes."

The sheets rustled as she scooted towards him, meeting him in the middle of the bed. Hesitant, he reached out and placed his fingertips on her hip. "May I?" She murmured her assent and he curved his arm around her waist. "Is this alright?

"Yes." Her voice held a breathless quality that sent a tremor of desire straight through him. He didn't miss the fact that she lay her arm on top of his, his skin burning from the contact.

"Good night, Melia," he whispered, planting a light kiss on her forehead.

"Good night, Dunban."

He shut his eyes and his mouth curved into a smile as he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.


Sunlight streamed through the slivers of space between the curtains, painting zig zags over the bed. The tendrils of warmth danced upon Dunban's skin, pulling him from the deep sleep that had blanketed his consciousness. Breathing deeply, he exhaled, the lavender-like scent an immediate reminder of his current situation. Feeling returned to his limbs and he could sense the warm body curled under his arm. He blinked to see Melia stirring awake herself.

Good. She had slept through the night. Hopefully, a few more restful nights would lead to her finished recovery. Maybe she would consider spending the night with him again under these circumstances. He rather liked waking up next to her.

Melia peered up at him through her lashes, a relaxed expression painting her aristocratic features.

"Good morning." He murmured.

"Good morning."

"How did you sleep?"

"Well, actually. I didn't have any nightmares."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Had I known this would be the solution to my predicament, I would have slept with you earlier." He couldn't help but grin. Her eyes widened as she registered her words and she blushed and looked down at his chest. "Oh my...that's not...I did not mean…"

"You are always welcome in my bed." He tightened his grip around her waist ever so slightly, his voice deeper. "See something that interests you?"

Her eyes darted back to his, even redder and he smirked. Blinking and collecting herself, she tilted her head and bit her lip, a shyness lighting up her eyes. "Perhaps, I might need closer inspection to be certain."

"By all means."

Timid, she reached out and lay her fingers on his chest, then her whole palms, as if she were afraid to crush him under their impact. He tensed under her touch, taking note of how soft and gentle her hands were. How much he had wanted to feel her skin on his. "You seem tense, Dunban. Are you nervous? How am I to properly conduct an inspection if you do not relax?" She teased, tracing circles across his abdomen. He groaned softly, the sensation of her touch sending him spiraling. Her fingers danced up his chest and neck, pausing to trace his jawline. She leaned in, her voice a purr: "Perhaps this will soothe your nerves." Her lips were a ghost of a whisper away from his, quickly closing the distance.

"DUNBAN! MELIA IS MISSING!" Fiora yelled, flinging the door open and barging in.

Melia gasped and dove under the covers. Fiora audibly gasped. Locking his jaw, Dunban glared at his strawberry-red sister and growled, "Fiora, it is customary to knock on someone's door before entering."

"Ohmygodimsosorryohmygodohmygodimsosorry."

"What's going on? Did you find her?" Tyrea demanded, appearing next to Fiora. She eyed the lump in the bed, Dunban's irate expression, and Fiora's flushed face. She snickered. "Right, well, now that the mystery of my sister's disappearance is solved, we'll be going." Grabbing Fiora's arm, she dragged the young woman away. As the door began to close, Tyrea stuck her head back in. "I didn't expect you to move so fast, Melia. I'm pleased to see you...loosening up, in more ways than one!" She cackled and shut the door.

Silence. He lay a hand on top of what he deduced was Melia's shoulder. "They're gone."

"I am content here." Her words muffled by the blankets.

"I won't complain. There are worse places you could take up residence in." He smirked.

Melia threw off the blanket just enough to uncover her head, cheeks rosy with embarrassment and hair slightly askew. Between her flustered appearance and mortification, he had to admit she looked...cute. "Dunban! Our sisters just...caught us...together!"

"It could be worse. Think of if Fiora had barged in a few seconds later." Melia squealed and he laughed. "As embarrassing as it was, it was bound to happen sooner or later."

She picked at the comforter. "That is...a fair supposition."

"Now I'd like to go back to the moment just before we were interrupted." Dunban reached for her and pulled her back to him, their bodies just touching.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, amused. "You shook that off rather quickly."

"It's not my first embarrassing moment with Fiora."

"With a woman in your bed?" She leaned away from him, curious. Playful even. He liked this attitude. He liked that she was comfortable enough to show him a new side to her.

"This hardly seems the time for such a discussion," Dunban closed the distance between them, touching her nose with his.

"I think it's the perfect time. After all, we said we would be open and honest with one another, did we not?"

"I'm happy to discuss the matter with you later today, but I think we have more pressing...desires to attend to," he murmured and kissed her neck.

"Well...if you insist." Melia hummed, her voice wavering in its faux boredom. His lips smirked against her neck and he kissed the same spot again, eliciting a sigh from her. "I believe this was my position." She lay her palms on his chest. He shivered at the contact.

"You were about to soothe my nerves." He pulled back and they locked eyes, an invisible current of electricity crackling between them.

"Was I? I seem to have forgotten," she tapped her bottom lip, feigning contemplation. "I wonder what could have been my technique…"

"Melia…"

She kissed him, her lips roaming over his insistently. Sensually, sending currents of pleasure up and down his body. He crushed her against him, deepening the kiss. Eager for more. This is what he'd been seeking, her touch, her taste. This is what he wanted since the moment he'd seen her last night, what he nee—

Knock Knock.

They broke apart. "I swear if that is Fiora," Dunban grumbled, then snapped, "What?"

"I am so sorry about earlier again. Also, Reyn wants to talk to you before his debrief. He says you're not answering your messages..." Fiora answered through the door.

"Right. Thanks."

"Andjustareminderyousaidyou'dmake pancakes, okay thank youuuu!" Fiora's footsteps departed and Dunban turned his attention back to Melia, whose face was blank. Her emotions closed off to him. He could only guess she must be feeling a similar disappointment.

"It seems like our time has been cut short." He frowned, running a hand through his hair.

"So it does."

In an unspoken agreement, they each slipped out of bed. Melia retrieved her robe from the hook on the door and covered herself. Already he was missing her warmth.

"Would you like to go to the beach tomorrow?" He asked, casually, though the stammer in his voice betrayed otherwise.

"If you have no plans, certainly." Melia tied the robe's sash into a bow.

"Not to my knowledge. I'll make the necessary preparations after my debrief." He beamed at her in an attempt to elicit a smile from her.

She merely nodded. "Then I will see you…?"

"I have my own debrief unfortunately later this morning. I'll need to talk to Elma about what really happened. And I'm scheduled for a Skell test this afternoon."

"Perhaps I will see you at the lab then. I need to meet with the scientists regarding the VITA. Tyrea will be doing some testing for them as well." She turned and opened the door.

Her attitude change unnerved him; one moment she was open and playful, the next reserved and distant. It was a defense mechanism of some sort, he gathered. And though he understood it to an extent, the abruptness was difficult for him to accept. He wasn't quite ready to let go of her, of their time together, and face the world just yet.

"Wait."

She paused in the doorway. "What is it?"

Before he could think better, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, savoring her. Her touch, her feel, her smell, her taste. It was a drug and he couldn't get enough. As his lips moved over hers, he tried to tell her how much he wanted this, wanted her. How important she was to him, despite how young their relationship was.

And she kissed him back, tangling her fingers in his hair, capturing his lips with her own. Desperate to drink him in.

Finally, their lips parted and he stood back, both breathless. "That's all."

A smile broke out on her face and his heart swelled. "Thank you, Dunban. Despite the interruptions, this was...a lovely start to the day. Now to avoid my sister. Though I am certain she is lying in wait in my room."

"Good luck." He laughed and she floated down the hall, throwing a glance over her shoulder at him before disappearing around the corner.


Just as she expected, Tyrea awaited her in her guest room. And the Princess most certainly was not in the mood for an interrogation. Rather, she resented her sister at the moment for interrupting what was supposed to be an...intimate moment with Dunban. At least she had their beach outing to look forward to. Assuming fate had no plans to intervene. Given her luck, she wasn't entirely optimistic the excursion would happen. But she could hope.

That is, hope to herself. She wasn't going to inform Tyrea of their plans until the last minute. Otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it. Or her sister would invite herself on the trip. And that was something Melia most definitely did not desire.

"You vixen." Her stepsister sneered from her seat in the cream-colored armchair by the window, a stark contrast to the space in her all-black military outfit.

"There is nothing to discuss," Melia answered, heading straight for her closet to choose an outfit for the day.

"You were sleeping with him. Obviously, there is something to discuss."

"Yes, well, we were talking and it was late and it seemed like an obvious thing to do." Melia shrugged, indifferent.

"To sleep with him? My dear sister, that is not an obvious thing to do for you." Tyrea wagged her finger back and forth.

"Alright, he suggested it and I accepted. We do not need to dive into the particulars."

"Of course we do! Otherwise, I will be forced to assume what happened myself."

Melia chose a pink tunic and sky blue pants and turned back to her sister. "Fine. If...anything were to have happened, your interruption dashed all hopes for that."

"So you do want to sleep with him." A mischievous glimmer flickered in Tyrea's eyes.

"Tyrea, why do we need to discuss this?" Melia glowered. Her cheeks started to warm as her mind flashed to Dunban's bare chest beneath her hands.

"I just don't understand your attitude. It's so difficult to get you to share anything about your feelings for him. When you were dating Ferdinand, you couldn't stop talking about him and I literally had to hide from you to not hear about his glorious hair." Melia cringed. That had not been her finest moment. "But with Dunban, you are so...tightlipped."

"I was young when I was with Ferdinand."

"I'm not sure what that has to do with it." Tyrea quirked an eyebrow.

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is, tell me."

"It's...ridiculous." Melia sighed, taking a seat on her bed. Her shoulders slumped in resignation, knowing that unless she appeased her sister in some manner, Tyrea would continue to needle her. "He almost died, I recently had my own ordeal, and yet…"

"Oh, just spit it out. I feel like I've already aged a century just waiting for you to get to the point," Tyrea tossed one of her ponytails over her shoulder.

"What if I'm...bad?" Melia gazed down at her feet and muttered, "For lack of a better word."

"Bad? At what?"

"At sex."

She peeked up at Tyrea, who stared at her, jaw dropped. "You're worried about being bad at sex."

"I don't know why you must say it like that." Melia huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Never mind."

Tyrea dropped onto the bed next to Melia. "It's just not what I expected at all. For one, you've read more romance novels than I have books of all genres combined."

"It was a phase, Tyrea."

"A long phase," she snorted and leaned back on her elbows. "So you know all of the mechanics. And various techniques."

"That doesn't necessarily mean I can implement them with skill…."

"Melia, you are a virgin. That is a fact." Melia sniffed and Tyrea shook her head. "I'm not shaming you, but that is a fact, is it not?"

Melia nodded.

"You also have strong feelings for Dunban."

Melia nodded again.

"Alright. Now when you're with Dunban physically, I assume he's not doing all of the work, right?"

Melia thought of their kiss in the doorway, the heat between them, how she had fought her instincts to push him against the wall, and instead contented herself with running her hands through his hair. Though it scared her, she was ravenous for him. "No…"

"And I assume you know not to just lie there like a dead fish?"

"Of course not!"

"And you're a skilled dancer."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"You have body awareness, and you have rhythm because sex has its own rhythm," Tyrea explained. "Between that and your imagination, which has been infused with your smut library, and obviously your feelings, you'll be fine. First times are always awkward, that is just a reality. But you and Dunban will muddle through together I'm sure and all the times after that will be not awkward and more fun and romantic."

Melia considered the evidence. Oddly enough, her sister's logic comforted her. Honestly, she was pleasantly surprised by Tyrea's matter-of-fact approach to the conversation. Melia had half expected her sister to shamelessly tease her, but instead, she offered a fact-based argument that calmed her fears. Something Melia would've done had their positions been switched. "Thank you, Tyrea, that really does help."

"Good. I've done my sisterly duty. And while you think on that, I have something for you that seems far more necessary now than I thought." Tyrea pulled a small jewelry bag from her pocket and dropped it into Melia's lap. "It's a charm. It'll keep you from getting pregnant."

Melia's face turned bright red as she opened the bag to find a golden amulet strung on a golden chain. "Thank you…"

"Alright, now that we've had this lovely chat, I'm going to need something strong to scrub all images from my mind." Melia groaned, covering her hands with her face. Tyrea sneered. "But really, my stomach is starting to eat itself." She hopped off the bed, heading for the bedroom door. "Don't dawdle too much."

Melia let her hands slip from her face and she watched Tyrea saunter out of the room, closing the door behind her. The princess looked back at the amulet and a small smile played on her lips. Maybe there was no reason to be nervous after all.


It was with great restraint that Dunban did not reach across the table and strangle Maurice with his bare hands. Though he had won this round by surviving Maurice's underhanded assassination attempt, he still wanted to make the man bleed.

Instead, he forced himself to stand at the head of the long conference table in the BLADE council room and deliver his debrief of the mission, unemotional, almost robotic. As long as he stuck to the facts, the council members would not question the events that he chose to describe.

"In summary, the mission was an overall success. The fortress was destroyed. The High Entia team secured data from the Ganglion computers before they self-destructed. Unfortunately, Officer Frye was caught in the crossfire and lost his life. Four of the High Entian soldiers sustained wounds. Otherwise, there were no other casualties."

The lie slipped off his tongue easily. And there wasn't a shred of guilt attached to it. Frye had tried to assassinate Dunban on a pig's orders. He could rot in hell for all Dunban cared.

Irina shook her head and Vera sniffed, but the other BLADE officers maintained stoic expressions. Out of the corner of his eye, Dunban scrutinized Maurice, but the man betrayed no sign of disappointment or frustration.

What a snake.

"What about the ether artifact?" Elma asked.

"We were unable to recover it. We believe once the fighting broke out, a small team evacuated with the item and fled."

"That is disappointing, but you secured the fortress location from the Ganglion and we look forward to reading what intelligence was gathered from our allies," Nagi stated. "Your suspension is dismissed and you are to be reinstated as Captain of your team." He looked around the room, daring anyone to contradict him, but none of the council members did. Not even Maurice.

Dunban suppressed a smug smile.

"Let's take a recess before our next meeting, everyone. We'll meet back here in fifteen." Nagi announced.

The BLADE council members rose one by one, slowly mingling and milling around the room, some opting to leave for a break — Maurice being one of them. Which was perfect and gave Dunban the opportunity to pull Elma to the side. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure."

Minutes later, they were on the BLADE tower observation deck, two floors above the conference room. Ambling towards the far end, away from the elevator, he glanced around to ensure no one was watching or listening.

"What's with all the secrecy?" Elma asked, leaning against the railing. "Last I checked, we're not in a spy novel."

"Frye tried to kill me on the mission," Dunban answered.

"What?" Elma's gaze sharpened.

"He said that Maurice gave him the order."

"You can't be serious."

"I wish I weren't. Frye pointed a gun at my head and also threatened to kill Reyn." A hot flash of rage burst through him as he conjured up the unpleasant memory. "Melia overheard Maurice talking about the mission as well. Based on what she heard, it confirms what Frye said to me."

"This is...wow." Elma shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "I'm guessing you're telling me and not Nagi because you have no evidence."

"That is correct."

"How did Frye die?"

"I didn't kill him if that's what you're implying." He replied. Which it was. She knew his anger. But he wasn't about to out Sharla.

Besides, if he'd known what Frye was up to, Dunban would've bought him back to NLA to pay for his crime. And he would've advocated for the punishment of exile from the city, which was as good as death. Just a slower and more painful one. In Dunban's mind, traitors were as bad as the Ganglion.

"Alright, we'll have to figure out how to expose Maurice quietly," Elma said. "I need to get back. Best not to be seen together right now."

Dunban nodded and Elma took her leave. After five minutes, Dunban boarded the elevator. As he reached the lobby, the doors slid open to reveal Gadot.

"What are you doing here?" Dunban glared as he stepped out of the elevator.

"I've got a presentation. Or didn't you hear? We're moving ahead with the mimeosome project." Gadot sneered.

Dunban didn't respond and shoved him, heading straight for the exit.

"You can always change your mind, Dunban. Hell, I'll let you be the first subject!" Gadot called after him.

Mother. Fucker.

Dunban ground his teeth and slammed open the tower door. They were moving ahead with the mimeosome project. Of course, they were. Now that Dunban wasn't on the council, there was no one to stall the project. He had no leverage to stop the project. The rage that had made an appearance earlier reared its ugly head from the back corners of his mind, roaring to bite into something and rip it apart.

Maurice. The root of almost all his problems. If he could just wipe that bastard off the face of Mira, things would be so much easier. Fiora would be safe, the people of NLA would be safe, they would be free to forge alliances with other xenoforms. But with Maurice on the council, spitting nonsense and feeding his fanatic ego, all he did was put them all in danger.

Dunban's hands clenched into fists. He needed to exercise this violence. He needed to punch something, shoot something, anything—

Buzz buzz.

The anger screeched to an abrupt halt within him and he tore his communicator out of his pocket. On-screen a message blinked. Call me when you're done.

Right. He had things to do. He curled his fist around his communicator, took a breath, and exhaled, shutting the anger down again. There was no time to entertain it now. He had someone to visit. After taking another deep breath, he responded. Just finished the debrief. Where are you?

My apartment. 307. Block 4-D.

Ten minutes later, Dunban stood outside an automated door. He rang the bell, uncertain of what exactly he was walking into. The door slid open. Sharla was there. There were dark circles under her eyes, a slump in her shoulders, her wet hair tossed up into a messy bun. She wore civilian clothes, not her BLADE uniform. That was unusual.

Without a word, Sharla turned back into the apartment. He followed, glancing around at his surroundings. It was a simple apartment, not much in the way of decoration, but there were textbooks and sketches, and mechanical pieces and soldering tools scattered throughout the room. In the center, Sharla knelt, folding clothes and placing them into a suitcase.

"Going somewhere?"

"I can't live with him anymore. I can't be with him anymore." She stated flatly.

"What happened?" Not that he really wanted to hear about Gadot, but he was concerned about Sharla, given everything that had happened. He still had yet to thank her for saving his life.

"He told me all about the mimeosome project. Then I asked about his connection with Maurice and he tried to feed me some lies." She snarled, giving up on the folding and began shoving clothes into the bag. "I told him it was insulting to my intelligence to try and lie. And he thinks I'm not actually going to leave him. God, what an asshole."

"Where are you going to go?"

"There's an empty bunk in the women's barracks."

"You don't sound like you want to go there."

"Why would I? Everyone thinks I should've gone to help Melia because that was the right thing to do but I was trying to do the right thing by respecting the chain of command. And what does that matter when a chain of command doesn't exist because apparently we're all just turning into assassins and turning on one another because who gives a shit about honor and caring about your fellow soldier." She slammed the suitcase shut and zipped it up, then looked at Dunban, her eyes glassy and voice razor-sharp. "Gadot didn't even care that I killed Frye! He just laughed and said that was natural selection. What did I ever see in him?"

"Sharla, you're a good soldier and a good person. Don't doubt what you did." Dunban said.

"You lied for me. Because I killed one of our own." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You saved my life. I'm indebted to you forever. I think one lie is a small price to pay." Dunban said, extending a hand out to help her up. She took it then dropped it promptly.

"You could be court-martialed."

"Given everything we've been through, that doesn't seem to be as strong a deterrent as it used to be." He shook his head. "And I would do it again. I'm grateful to have you on my team."

"Stop. You're just saying that because you feel bad for me. Don't. I made my bed. It's time for me to lie in it." She fetched her purse from the far end of the room and looked around, presumably checking to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything else.

Her eyes landed on a photo, the one photo hanging up on the wall. It was a picture of Sharla and Gadot, smiling. By the way they were both dressed in uniform, Dunban assumed they were at a base together. But they were looking at one another, eyes only for each other, as if they had no knowledge of the camera capturing the intimate moment. Lost in one another like nothing else existed.

Dunban saw the wobble in Sharla's lips as she stared at that photo. He studied her, saw her slightly curve inward on herself, an island amidst the sea of equipment — no doubt Gadot's things — not a shred of her own life present. Except for this singular photo.

"Come live with Fiora and me." He said.

"What?" Sharla snapped her head towards him. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"What about Melia and Tyrea?"

"We have three guest rooms. So if I can still do basic math correctly, there's one free. So?"

"I couldn't impose on you. Not after everything you've already done for me." Sharla shook her head, but he could see the slightest consideration in her dark eyes.

"Sharla, the choice is yours. But I think everyone would be happy to have you. As long as you don't mind Fiora and Tyrea barging in on you on occasion."

"I have a little brother. I'm used to it." She flicked her wrist with a laugh.

"Is he in the Lifehold?"

Sharla nodded, her expression becoming somber. "His name is JuJu. He's just thirteen. It's just been me and him for five years.

So she had had to raise a younger sibling too. It seemed they had more in common than he knew. And the Lifehold, was she counting down the days until it would lose power? Counting down the days until she would lose her brother forever?

He couldn't imagine Fiora lost. He would go insane. He'd have probably already stolen a speeder and begun searching every corner of Mira himself. Thankfully, it appeared Sharla had more sense than he.

"Let me walk you down to the barracks at least."

She nodded and relented when he took the suitcase from her. As he carried it, it occurred to him that for the first time all day he wasn't feeling any pain for his arm. Whatever Melia had done had worked like a charm.

He had to find some way to thank her. Maybe putting together some sort of surprise for their beach outing the next day.

They spent the short walk talking more about Juju. Dunban learned the boy was an avid gamer, he wanted to be a producer when he grew up. The death of their father was something he'd taken hard — heart disease — but he and Sharla had always been close. Something that Dunban envied.

When they arrived at the women's barracks, a group of younger female BLADE officers were clustered together just to the side of the entrance, chattering and shrieking intermittently. One caught sight of Sharla and whispered to the others. It only took seconds before all the members were looking at her.

He glanced at Sharla, who grimaced. "If you're serious, then I'd like to take you up on your offer," Sharla said.

"Of course."

"I'm only accepting because I don't want to deal with those idiots." Sharla crossed her arms over her chest.

"And I don't think you should have to." Dunban agreed. "Besides, I think Fiora will be happy to have you around."

"Really?"

"She's been worried about you."

"Oh...that's sweet of her."

"Then let's go get you moved in." As he took the handle of the suitcase again, Sharla lay a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, surprised.

"Dunban, really, thank you." She said, her voice quiet.

He shook his head. "There's nothing to thank. You're part of my team. We take care of one another."

Hesitating, she said, "Alright."

"Then let's go home."


The next few hours of the afternoon passed in a blur. After helping Sharla get settled at the house, it was time for Dunban to head over to the Outfitters test hanger in the Industrial District. Upon arrival, he saw it was a hub of activity: clusters of High Entia and humans orbited around the strange purple skell that was installed in the dead center, all attention, and energy focused on the VITA.

As he made his way around the outside, he watched the movement with mild relief. It had been about a month and change since he had been in the cockpit of a skell. His skills were rusty, which is why he'd signed on to do the testing in the first place; it was an easy way for him to practice without onlookers judging his abilities. And with all eyes on the VITA, no one would be scrutinizing his own techniques and battle skill. With the main hanger occupied, he'd no doubt be relegated to one of the tinier, back hangers. Which would suit him just fine.

Mika and Camber were in charge of the test; two junior outfitters of the division. With all the senior officers assigned to the VITA, it seemed the junior officers had the pick up the slack on all current R&D projects. Dunban didn't mind though, even when they peppered him with all sorts of questions related to life in the military, his missions on Mira, and even his favorite models of weapons. He saw it as an opportunity to mentor, unofficially speaking.

The test itself was a simple routine. It was a new skell prototype, one that included Ma-non technology. The test involved target practice and basic maneuvers, nothing too fancy, things he could handle with expertise. Things that wouldn't make him feel self-conscious or remind him of what happened in the skies above Mira.

But he knew that he'd have to fly a skell into battle sooner or later. Secretly, he hoped that it would be later. Though there was nothing quite like the feeling of flying. The freedom of it, defying the laws of gravity that kept him bound to the earth. That was something he'd sorely missed and unfortunately, a flight test was not among the routines that needed evaluation this session.

After he finished — and he was actually satisfied by his performance, not one hundred percent, but not deficient — Dunban made his way back through the main hanger. Rounding the outside of the action, he spotted Melia off to the side, watching as Tyrea hopped out of the VITA's cockpit. Though he was still too far to see her expression, he could see the tenseness in her form.

Nonchalantly, he made his way over to her. "How was the test?"

Melia jumped, startled.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No need to apologize. I should have been more aware. It is my own fault." Melia responded. He was surprised at how cold and formal she sounded. Was something wrong? "The team was able to access data banks previously locked in the VITA's computer system, and the High Entia are translating the logs as we speak."

"Are you alright?"

She gazed at him, something in her stare made him think she was grappling with whether to tell him what was worrying her or not.

"Let us speak with Tyrea first." She answered and took off across the hanger. Silent, he followed her.

They took up a spot a few feet away from Tyrea, who was finishing a conversation with Shulk and Lin. Once they finished, Tyrea turned away and sauntered over to Melia and Dunban. "Now that is a weapon." Tyrea grinned. "I can feel the ether energy pulsing just sitting in it!"

"Tyrea. Did anything happen to you while you were piloting the VITA?" Melia questioned, her voice low.

"No. Why?"

Again, that calculating expression appeared on Melia's face. Something was amiss.

"Let's continue this discussion elsewhere." He suggested.

Melia nodded.

Following a quick drive, he parked the speeder by the edge of the residential district, far away from any wandering eyes and curious ears.

"What's going on?" Tyrea demanded as Dunban turned the engine off. "And don't tell me it's nothing serious."

"If you would give me a moment. I am...trying to honor our agreements of honesty and confide in both of you." Melia fidgeted with her hands in her seat.

"Finally." Tyrea leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest.

Dunban shot her a warning look. She rolled her eyes.

Melia stilled her hands, clasping them in her lap, and looked between them both, her face impassive. "What I am about to share with you both, it does not go beyond the three of us. I mean this in every sense."

The weight of her words reminded him of his own in the early morning. "Of course." He nodded. "You can trust us."

"I lied to my father."

"You did what?" Tyrea sat straight up in her seat, jaw dropping.

Melia nodded. "I lied to my father. Because...I do not know what happened. I do not entirely understand what I went through but I believe it is too dangerous for me to share with him until I have an explanation." She breathed and continued, "There is a specific function in the VITA accessible only by members of the Antiquan line. While you two were away, I saw…" She steeled herself and continued, "I saw myself bomb Alcamoth and destroy the city."

"You're not serious." Tyrea stared.

"Given the little information I have at my disposal, I will avoid piloting the VITA until we discover the subroutine's true function."

"That's...I don't even know what to say." Dunban murmured. Was the VITA capable of destroying a whole city? Did that mean it could destroy all of NLA as well? No wonder the Ganglion wanted it. It was a weapon of mass destruction.

"Neither do I." Melia shook her head. "I do not know if this is a device that shows the future, or if it is simply a hallucination meant to trick the pilot into committing horrible acts. What I do know is that my father cannot learn what I saw."

"He'd throw you in the dungeon and toss away the key." Tyrea's lips formed into a grim line.

"Or some variation."

He wished it were as simple as keeping Melia away from piloting the VITA. But from what he'd heard, the machine was fairly intuitive that even a novice could master the basics of piloting within an hour, though it still needed a trained soldier to pilot the skell for battle like any other war machine.

Still, what could this vision mean?

"Melia, I know thinking about it is probably the last thing you want to do now, but did the vision give you any clues as to why you were bombing the city?" Dunban asked.

Melia frowned. "None. Just that I knew I had to do it. If I didn't...all would be lost."

"There is a silver lining here."

"How so?"

"If you had to do it, it meant that there was no other way. Meaning there is a chance you had a very good reason to do this."

"To destroy our home? Do you hear yourself?" Tyrea gawked.

"I'm trying to think about this logically." Dunban offered.

"The only way we can ensure that Melia won't ruin Alcamoth is to limit her contact with the VITA. That's what I intend to do." Tyrea put her hands on her hips.

He was about to respond but thought better. There was no point in arguing when they had so little information.

"That I can agree with," Dunban said.

Silence weighed heavy in the air as the three considered the information at hand. It was disturbing. But he couldn't imagine Melia destroying the city, killing the people within the city, unless she had no other recourse.

"Thank you, both. I appreciate being able to share this with you." Melia declared, flicking her eyes from one to the other.

"Well, secrets are no fun." Tyrea sniffed then smirked, "Unless you're privy to them."

Buzz buzz.

Dunban pulled out his communicator and looked on the screen. A message for Fiora. "It seems my sister is looking for the two of you." Buzz. Another message. He read it and groaned.

"That sounds less than appealing," Tyrea commented.

"Is something wrong?" Melia inquired.

"It affects me less than it does the two of you." Dunban snorted. "Looks like Fiora wants to have a girls' night."


As soon as the trio entered, Fiora appeared, summoned by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Scowling, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You didn't tell me that you invited Sharla to stay with us!"

"I didn't think it was a problem." Dunban mused.

"It's not!" Then she lowered her voice and leaned forward. "But you could've said that she broke up with Gadot!"

"I didn't feel like that was my news to tell."

"Well, now we have to have a girls' night. Come on you two." She gestured at Tyrea and Melia.

"What is...girls' night?" Tyrea crossed her arms over her chest, skeptical.

"Basically we watch bad movies or play games or something while we eat pizza and fried food and drink a lot."

"Oh. That doesn't sound too horrible."

"What did you think I was going to say?"

"Talking about feelings...lame things like that."

"We'll probably do that too."

Tyrea wrinkled her nose.

"Come on, please? Sharla's really down, not just about Gadot but...everything. I think it would be nice to cheer her up." Fiora clasped her hands together and flashed puppy dog eyes at the two High Entia.

"Fine. As long as my wine glass is full."

"Yes!" Fiora turned. "Melia?"

"You would like my participation as well?" The surprise in her voice was evident. Obviously, she was a female but she wasn't certain if Sharla would be comfortable with her presence. Or if she knew how to even engage in a girls' night. Her evenings with Tyrea always involved some sort of physical activity, such as pranking a petty officer that had insulted her in flight practice or blowing up a Ganglion base, which seemed to be untraditional in the sense of said girls' night.

"Of course! I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

Melia nodded, glancing at Dunban. She'd had hoped to spend some time with him given the morning's interruptions. It seemed that would have to wait.

"He's not going anywhere," Tyrea rolled her eyes.

Melia flushed, "That's not…" She cleared her throat. "I will join in the evening's festivities."

"Great! Let's go!" Fiora twirled and raced back to the kitchen, Tyrea following. Melia did not move from her spot.

"It seems I won't have you to myself." Dunban mused.

"It seems not, unfortunately." Melia sighed.

"Well, whenever you finish up, my door is open."

"I don't know how late we'll be."

"It doesn't matter. I'd like to see you." His eyes darkened and he grazed his fingers along her cheek.

A blush crept across her skin under his gaze. "If you're certain."

"I am." He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. A feather-light touch but enough to make her burn, turn her blood to fire. Enough to make her heart skip a beat and yearn for more. Just as he was about to pull away, she pulled him back and kissed him again, her lips claiming his, a promise that they would be together later.

"Melia! Stop making out with Dunban and get in here!" Tyrea hollered from the kitchen.

Startled, Melia jumped back, then glowered and glanced over her shoulder to where the shouts originated. She'd have a word about Tyrea's interruptions. They were starting to tire her.

"Tonight then," Dunban agreed. The princess turned back to see his own face flushed, a slight pant in his response.

With a flirtatious smile, she turned and glided away, exhilarated that she could have such an effect on him.

A drink was thrust into her hand upon entrance: a tiny glass with a clear liquid in it.

"You were making out, weren't you?" Tyrea eyed her.

"It was a kiss, Tyrea, nothing more. And I don't know why you're so preoccupied with it." Melia sniffed the drink, noting its stark but small odor.

"I'm living vicariously through you and your little romance."

"I'm sure Elenora would be happy to assist you if you'd like to actually experience one."

"That's not...I don't know what you're talking about!" Tyrea huffed and looked anywhere but at the faces of the others.

"Elenora?! Really?" Fiora exclaimed. Tyrea glared and the human woman laughed, "Anyway, time to get this evening started!" Fiora held up her tiny glass. "And the way we do that is...shots!"

"I'm going to regret this," Sharla said, holding up her own.

"What is this?" Melia inquired, peering at the clear liquid.

"Fun." Tyrea leered and held up her own.

Melia looked at the other three women, back to the glass. It was not as though she were in any danger. Fiora had invited her to join, and...she deserved to have some fun. After everything that had happened in the recent weeks, she deserved to not think about all of the pain and sadness and anger for a few hours. She held up her glass.

"To Girls' Night!" Fiora cheered.

Their glasses clinked together and Melia watched as Fiora and Sharla knocked back the clear liquid, both wrinkling their nose. Tyrea followed, smacking in her lips. Melia hesitated, then drank. The liquid burned down her throat and she coughed, though swallowing it all.

"What is that?" Melia gasped.

"Vodka," Fiora said. "Hard alcohol."

"It'll go straight to your bloodstream so we're also going to stay hydrated because I don't want anyone getting sick," Sharla said. "We're drinking responsibly."

Melia decided she wouldn't be drinking a lot if they were sticking to these vodka shots.

With a battle cry, Fiora led them out of the kitchen and into the living room where pizza and more alcohol awaited them.

"Soo I was thinking we could start the night with a bad movie and pizza." Fiora presented as she passed out glasses of wine.

"What movie?" Sharla asked.

"First, we have Lara Croft: Tomb Raider." Fiora said, then looked at the two High Entia, "Basically she kicks ass and saves the world."

"Solid choice." Sharla agreed.

"Then there's Fast and Furious 5."

"Five as in...movie number five?" Tyrea raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"Yeah, but you don't really need to know what happened in the other movies. Basically, it's just people who race cars and run from the cops. And there are a lot of explosions. And car chases. And hot guys."

"Explosions I could do." Tyrea mused.

"And of course, the quintessential terrible movie, Sharknado."

"Shark...nado?" Melia asked.

"Killer sharks arrive in the city via water tornado and our heroes have to survive."

"That sounds awful." Tyrea blinked.

"It is, but it's one of those situations where it's so bad it's good. They made five more of them." Fiora explained. "Okay, so what do you guys wanna do? Girl power, explosions, or killer sharks?"

"Explosions." Tyrea declared.

"That...tracks." Fiora snorted.

"Why is that a problem?"

As Fiora and Tyrea dove headfirst into an argument about whether explosions were representative of Tyrea's personality, Melia noticed that Sharla had slipped out onto the deck. Glancing at the growing debate, Melia took her leave, exiting onto the deck as well.

The cool night air hit her skin pleasantly.

"Are you alright, Sharla?" Melia asked.

Sharla glanced over her shoulder as the High Entia approached. "I just needed some air." She gazed up at the dark sky, a heavy atmosphere of melancholy surrounding her.

"I apologize, I will leave you to your thoughts." Melia turned to head back into the house.

"Oh no, please, stay." Sharla insisted, gesturing to the empty spot next to her by the railing.

Cautiously, Melia slid into the spot offered, glimpsing over at Sharla. What as the protocol for such interactions? Was she to wait in silence until Sharla said anything? Or was she to ask questions to prompt her to share? She wished her adolescence hadn't been so sheltered that she didn't know what to do within the presence of acquaintances.

"I was with Gadot for five years," Sharla commented. "Five years, and now it's over."

"I can't imagine how difficult it must be for you."

"I keep thinking about our past and everything leading up to now. Asking, was he always like this? Did I just miss the signs because I was so in love with him?" Sharla's hands tightened on the rail. "I know that's not true. He was caring and generous. But this war changed him. When we learned aliens were real and we had to plan for a possible evacuation of Earth, it changed him. And I just didn't want to admit it to myself that the way he changed...I didn't like that person."

"You just hope that they will realize and revert back to who they were," Melia added.

Sharla met her eyes, somber. "Yes, exactly."

How many times had Melia wished that for her father after her mother had died? She knew now that was just hope's folly and soon all her memories of a kinder, gentler Sorean would disappear.

"Melia, I want to apologize. I'm sorry I didn't join the rescue team. It was wrong and I should've been there."

"Thank you," Melia answered, "But please do not torture yourself. I understand you were in a difficult position."

"And yet I killed a BLADE officer a day ago. No. I was a coward." Sharla snorted. "Plain and simple."

Melia shook her head. Though she did not know Sharla well, she was not inclined to make the woman suffer. It was clear she had many of her own demons already, and Melia had no desire to contribute to them. In fact, she hoped that she and Sharla could move past this. She was grateful to the woman for saving Dunban's life, after all. If she could alleviate her suffering at all, Melia would try. "I do not see it that way. Our peoples are in a challenging state at this time. We are fighting for survival and still trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. We are fighting for our very existence as well as fighting to keep our values strong and society stronger, and not break down in the face of adversity. It is not your fault that there has been a breakdown. That people are feeding their desperate natures. You have a strong moral compass, Sharla, take heart in that. Your apology is accepted but also unnecessary. I am aware of the line you walk and I understand your struggle."

"Thank you, Melia. I really appreciate that." She pursed her lips. "But I've already gone over the line. I don't think I can go back."

"Perhaps not but—" Melia began.

"We were wondering where you guys went, jeez." Fiora appeared, hands on her hips. "It's time for the movie."

"We were just talking. What did you decide?" Sharla asked. Melia side glanced; there was no trace of her earlier melancholy.

"Fast and Furious 5. If that's okay with you?"

"I'll watch anything Dwayne Johnson is in." Sharla grinned. "Lead on."

They disappeared inside, leaving Melia on the deck. She looked back out into the darkness, Sharla's words echoing in her ears. This war had changed her too: she'd fought in combat, taken lives, lost her brother, succumbed to ghosts, and—

"Melia! Stop brooding and come inside!" Tyrea called out.

"You won't want to miss it!" Fiora joined in.

"The Rock is a national treasure!" Sharla added.

Friends. And she'd gained friends. A light in the darkness.

With a smile, she went inside.


Finally, after two movies, copious amounts of pizza, some wine, and five rounds of the game 'Never Have I Ever' - in which Tyrea and Sharla were consistently neck and neck to win - it was time to say goodnight. Sharla, Fiora, and Tyrea stumbled up the stairs to the second floor, while Melia made her way back to her room, pleasantly giddy.

The evening had been quite entertaining, more than she'd thought. It was silly but it was nice to be able to have fun with them. To have...friends.

And she was still a little tipsy, which was a pleasant sensation. She knew her limits and stuck to them and had enjoyed the evening.

What would be further enjoyable…

Her eyes darted down the darkened corridor that led to Dunban's room. His words from the afternoon resounded in her ears and her body buzzed in anticipation. Anticipation of his lips on hers and their bodies close together, tangled under the sheets, hidden away in the darkness of the night.

Eager, Melia hurried into her room and rifled through her suitcase. At least she had brought one pretty nightdress. Scarlett red velvet. Certainly, Dunban would not be able to take his eyes off of her.

After changing and securing the charm from Tyrea around her neck (she doubted they would get that far but it was best to be safe), she tiptoed to Dunban's room and gently knocked. "Dunban?" she whispered. There was no response. Perhaps he had not heard her. She tried again. Still no response. She pouted; she wondered if he had fallen asleep.

Rolling her lips over one another, Melia debated what to do. She didn't want to disturb his repose if he was sleeping, yet he said to find him regardless of the hour. And she really wanted to see him.

Gently, she twisted the doorknob and opened it slightly, peeking inside.

The room was dark, and as her eyes adjusted, she could make out a body in the bed, the slow rise and fall of the chest. So he was asleep. Not that she had expected him to stay awake given the late hour; there was no doubt in her mind that he must've been exhausted after the past few days. But she had hoped that he would be all the same.

Disappointed, she began to shut the door, intending to return to her room and slip into bed, curl up alone and wait for the morning to come.

"Melia?"

Startled, the young woman jerked her head towards the man sitting up in bed. Quickly, she released the handle and padded towards him, stopping at the foot of the bed. "I apologize, I did not mean to wake you."

"No, no. It's fine." He murmured, still half asleep. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You need to rest."

"As the princess commands." He smiled lazily and lay back down, flipping over the covers on the empty space next to him.

Her heart leapt. He was inviting her to stay.

Glowing, she slipped into the bed, her body rolling to face his. Already his breathing was returning to the rhythmic pace it had had before her interruption.

With care, she reached out and hovered her hand above his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she summoned her ether and felt the healing magic trickle out of her fingers. It seemed as though he were already sleeping well, but if she could make his sleep deeper, more peaceful, she would do what she could.

After a few minutes, the princess finished the spell and retracted her hand, sinking beneath the covers.

An arm encircled her waist and her heart skipped a beat as he pulled her closer. "Thank you," he mumbled.

"Of course." She dropped a feather-light kiss to his cheek. "Sleep well."

He lightly squeezed her waist. "You as well."

Beaming, Melia shut her eyes, slid her hands under her head, and waited for sleep to come, knowing there was no place she'd rather be.


Melia's internal clock roused her to the morning's call and her eyes fluttered open, inspecting her surroundings. Quickly, her brain recognized it as Dunban's bedroom. Memories flooded her mind from the previous night, wandering to his room, slipping into his bed, and falling asleep in his arms. She must've turned over at some point since the last image she remembered before shutting her eyes was of Dunban's handsome face. One that she desired to see again.

Gracefully, the princess rolled over — ensuring his arm remained around her waist and the contact bond was not broken — and a pair of warm brown eyes met hers, causing her heart to rocket into her throat.

"Good morning." She managed, butterflies bursting in her stomach under his warm gaze.

"Yes, it is." He murmured, bringing his other arm around her to close the embrace.

Encouraged by his touch, she roped her arms around his neck and tugged him to her, destroying any space between their bodies. He groaned as she pressed against him, and a thrill slithered straight to her core. She kissed him, crashing her lips into his, urgent and passionate. She had never craved someone so completely in all of her life.

He moved away from her mouth, kissing down the column of her neck. Her pulse quickened under his touch and she arched, losing herself in the feel of his lips on her skin—

Beep. Beep.

She froze. "Do you...need to...?"

"No. Later." Dunban murmured, continuing to kiss down her body.

Beep beeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

He stopped and groaned. "I'm sorry. I'll be one second." He rolled away and picked his communicator off his nightstand.

She did everything she could to not pout. It would only make him feel guilty and it wasn't his fault. Assuming an expression of indifference, Melia observed him as he read the message. But as his features morphed from annoyance to concern, her own irritation slipped away.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, though the cold chill of instinct already told her the answer.

With a shake of his head, he met her eyes: solemn. "We have a mission."