She awoke feeling groggy, but that quickly dissipated as she opened her eyes and, not recognizing the room as her own, jolted out of bed and into a defensive crouch. Disoriented, heart pounding, she darted her eyes around the room, scanning her surroundings for threats.
But the room was empty and, after a moment, her head cleared enough for her to remember where she was. "Why couldn't this have been a nightmare?" she muttered to herself as she straightened. These past few days had certainly felt enough like a bad dream.
She noticed a tray sitting on the desk and walked over to it to find a bowl of oatmeal, an apple, and a pitcher of water. Breakfast? How long had she been asleep? It couldn't have been any later than 4:00 in the afternoon when she laid down.
She felt the bowl and found it had cooled to room temperature. Disgusting. Oatmeal was bad enough. Cold oatmeal was even worse. She considered leaving it, but her stomach growled in protest, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything the day before. Captain Swift must have decided that letting her sleep was more important, or simply easier, than holding her to her promise to eat something after the treaty signing yesterday. Thinning out the congealed oatmeal with some extra water, she choked it down, chased it with a glass of water, then ate the apple at a more leisurely pace.
After breakfast, she showered and changed back into the grey clothes she had been given. They were comfortable, and it would spare her own outfit for when she needed it for public appearances. Leaving the bathroom, she found Lory waiting for her.
"No Captain Swift?" she asked, surprised to see her there alone.
"He had to go to the Stockade today to get some work done. I'm sure he'll stop by sometime later. How're you feeling?"
"Better," she answered, realizing that the persistent headache and sick stomach she had been dealing with hadn't bothered her since she woke up.
"Good!"
They ran through the tests again, and Lory seemed pleased with the results. "I think you've improved enough that we can stop these twice daily checkups. I'll check on you again at the end of my shift tomorrow. Rest in the meantime. No strenuous activities, mental or physical. Speaking of strenuous activity, who won?"
"What?"
Lory gestured to her hands and repeated herself.
"The wall," she answered, annoyed at the reminder of yesterday's debacle.
Lory hummed speculatively. "You know, most people only punch a wall once, not go three rounds against one." She took one hand and began pressing on different points, "Let me know if I hit a spot that hurts more than some minor bruising should." She finished one hand and moved on to the other. While there were some tender spots, they weren't concerningly painful. "You're lucky you don't seem to have broken anything."
She exhaled sharply, not even a real laugh. "I wish people would stop telling me how lucky I am. There's nothing lucky about any of this."
Lory frowned, digging through her bag and pulling out a small tin of balm and a swab. She began to expertly apply a thin layer of ointment to the minor cuts on her hands. "You're lucky to still be alive. That last battle could have ended a lot differently for you."
"So, I die at the hands of Atmosian justice instead of the Storm Hawks," she shrugged. "I think I would have preferred the Storm Hawks. At least that would have felt…poetic."
"Is that what you believe is going to happen?"
"Isn't it?"
"Executions are incredibly rare on Atmosia."
"Capturing the Master of Cyclonia is even rarer."
"You're a child. They're not going to kill a child."
"Then they'll keep me around for a few years and execute me after I turn eighteen," she reasoned, not even bothering to protest being called a child. She had learned by now that that was a losing battle against both Lory and Swift.
Lory didn't comment further. Instead, she simply bandaged her hands and then packed away her supplies in silence.
"Try not to get into any more fights with the walls," is all she said to her before she left.
She was left alone for most of the day. She spent the rest of the morning reading the daily paper and then listening to the news on the radio. Unsurprisingly, Cyclonia and the end of the war dominated the news cycle. Eventually, the news gave way to an opinion show where people could radio in to express their views. The main segment of the show was devoted to speculation surrounding the upcoming trial. It proved to be a popular subject, one that people had strong opinions about that they expressed using very colourful language. As 'eloquent' as some of the callers were, it was a man whose comment was a mere three words long that, according to the host, really had the call boards lighting up. It was a succinct yet impassioned, "String 'em up!"
After lunch, she drew up her declaration of abdication. She thought it best to get that out of the way sooner rather than later, but once she finished, she couldn't bring herself to sign it. She knew it wouldn't take effect immediately, that it would have to be officially approved and certified by the Sky Knight Council. But still, the thought of signing felt too final. So she pushed it off to one side of the desk. She would deal with it later.
Then she threw herself into the task of writing her speech to Cyclonia. The first draft left a lot to be desired. She practiced it a few times, but the words rang hollow to her ears. The Council wouldn't be satisfied either, she knew. The second draft was better, but still not good. It wouldn't convince any Cyclonian over the age of thirteen to accept Atmosia's demands. She quickly scraped that version, too. The third draft went too far in the other direction, making her sound like a sycophantic stooge of the Sky Knight Council. Reading it aloud, she didn't even make it past the second sentence before sneering, balling the paper up and tossing it across the room. In retaliation, she wrote the fourth draft as pure wish fulfillment, urging every Cyclonian who could hold a weapon to pick up arms and fight for freedom against their Atmosian oppressors. That did make her smile, but it also made her realize that she was simply procrastinating at this point. Growing serious, she made a concerted effort to get it right on the fifth try and succeeded. She practiced it, made a few minor adjustments, and then practiced it again before deciding that she was satisfied with the results. She set the finished speech off to the side with her abdication.
That task burned through more hours than she realized. The sun was getting low in the sky by the time she had finished. She stood and walked over to the window, watching the sun sink closer to the horizon. Captain Swift arrived not long after, and she turned to face him.
"I hear you've had a fairly good day," he said. "Got a full sixteen hours of sleep and your appetite back." He wandered to the desk and glanced down at the speech. "And you've been diligently working on the homework the Chairman assigned to you, I see."
"Is that what we're calling it?"
"Seems as good a term as any," he smiled. "Lory says you're well on your way to a full recovery, too."
"You spoke with Lory?"
"I did. She also mentioned that you were in a fatalistic mood this morning."
"If what I said bothered her, you better warn her not to listen to the radio until this is all over."
He frowned, eyebrows drawing together. "Why? What did you listen to?"
"I don't remember what the show was called. The host's name was Gwen Peck."
He sighed. "I can just imagine what they were saying. That woman is a pot-stirrer whose audience is full of bloody-minded chickenhawks. You didn't listen to the whole show, did you?"
"Of course I did."
"Why would you do that?" he asked, walking closer and casually leaning against the window frame.
"Why not? I'd rather know what people think than sit around and guess. Public opinion drives policy. That is how things are supposed to work around here, isn't it?"
"That's a complicated topic."
"Yes, I can imagine. Things are much simpler on Cyclonia."
"Where it's only your opinion that drives policy?" he asked with a small, insincere smile.
"How is that not better?"
"Better for you, maybe."
"Better for everyone. It's efficient. Why should the people concern themselves with politics? All they need to know is that if they do their jobs and are loyal to the Empire, they'll be taken care of."
His eyes stayed locked on hers as she spoke as if he was searching for something. Then, after a beat of silence, he cocked his head. "Huh."
"What?"
"You just answered a question I had."
"About Cyclonia?"
"About you."
"Oh really?"
"You're just as brainwashed as any other dyed in the wool Cyclonian."
"Brainwashed?" she exclaimed. Her fingers twitched, itching to clench into fists, but his warning from the day before sprang to mind, and she forced them to remain uncurled. "Shows how much you know."
"I know that most tyrants care more about power than about the people they rule. Now you…I don't doubt that you care about power; you've proven that several times over. But you actually seem to believe that how your family has been running Cyclonia is the way to go."
"Because it is."
"You only believe that because-"
"I'm not brainwashed!" she said, taking a step back and turning away from him. "It's Atmosia and its allies who are deluded, not us! We offered you strength and unity, and you rebuffed us."
"You offered us oppression."
"I wouldn't have had to oppress anybody if everyone had just fallen in line," she said, turning her head to glare at him.
He raised his eyebrows. "You do realize how bad that sounds?"
She quickly looked away from him again, her neck prickling with a sudden flush of heat. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and said, "I'm not going to apologize for doing what I had to do."
"You might want to reconsider that when you're brought before the tribunal. In my experience, a little humility goes a long way towards being granted mercy."
"They'd like that, wouldn't they? Me begging their pardon. Well, it's not going to happen!"
Captain Swift pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. He opened them again with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Kid, you need to sort out your priorities."
"I told you not to call me that."
"No, you told me not to call you kiddo. And you're not disproving my point about you and priorities."
"I do not wish to discuss this matter further," she said with an air of finality that none of her subordinates would dare challenge. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"Then we won't discuss it further. I think you should reconsider, but that's the last you'll hear about it from me.'
"Good."
"I'll be by tomorrow morning to pick up those documents for the Chairman. Unless you'd like me to take them now?"
"No. I'm not finished with them," she lied. She still wasn't ready to sign away her control over the Cyclonian Empire.
"Tomorrow, then."
The Dark Ace was lying on his bed when he walked in, hands laced behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, but he was on his feet before Swift even had time to shut the door. His eyes burned with distrust as he stared him down.
"What do you want?" Dark Ace sneered.
While Cyclonis had him questioning just how much rapport he was managing to build with her from one moment to the next, Dark Ace left him with no doubt. There was none.
"I wanted to talk to you."
"About?"
"Cyclonis."
Dark Ace tensed, his eyes narrowing. "Did the Council send you to fish for information? Or perhaps they think they can convince me to testify against her at the trial? Well, they can think again. I'm not interested."
"You're protective of her."
Dark Ace didn't reply.
"And she listens to you."
That did elicit a reaction, an incredulous snort.
"If she were to listen to anyone, it would be you," Swift amended with a small smile.
"Where is this going?"
"Do you think you can convince her to show even a hint of contrition at the trial?"
Dark Ace's answering laugh was at once sinister and amused, and Swift felt himself frowning in response.
"I'm serious. She's going to get herself killed."
"That is the likely outcome of this trial. For both of us."
"It doesn't have to be," he answered, wondering if both Cyclonians were always this grim.
"That's what I told her when she brought it up during our brief imprisonment on the Condor. Of course, I was lying then," Dark Ace said with a grim smile. "Let's not pretend that the people of Atmos will be satisfied with anything less. Why do you even care?"
"I'm not eager to watch a fourteen-year-old girl die, especially not one who doesn't seem to realize that she's done anything wrong."
Dark Ace laughed again, and it was as grim as his smile had been. "Make no mistake, Swift, she knows that her actions have been reprehensible. But she's a Cyclonis. 'The ends justify the means' is practically the family motto. And, if we're being completely honest, she has a bit of a sadistic streak."
"Am I just wasting my time here?" he wondered aloud. He had honestly expected the Dark Ace to want to help. He had read the dossiers that had been compiled over the years on his two newest prisoners. They included reports written by Sky Knight Starling during her time spent undercover in Cyclonia, as well as ones from the Storm Hawks. Despite not being an official squadron until two days ago, the Storm Hawks somehow managed to have more run-ins with the Cyclonians than any three squads put together. Those reports painted a picture of a more amicable relationship between the two than they seemed to share with anyone else. "I was under the impression that you two get along."
"We do, for the most part."
"You just accused her of being a sadist."
"It wasn't meant as an insult. It's one of the things I like about her."
Swift opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again when he realized he didn't have a response to that.
"Did I shatter your illusions?" Dark Ace asked with mock sympathy. "Better that I disabuse you of the notion that she's some innocent lost child now before you sign the adoption papers."
He bristled under the other man's smirk. "I never said she was. I just think enough blood has been shed in this war, innocent and guilty."
"A bleeding heart. How did you not wash out of the prison system two decades ago?"
"Just stubborn, I guess."
Dark Ace studied him with a speculative frown for a long minute. "Provide me with the opportunity, and I'll talk to her, though I make no promises that she'll listen."
She was no more ready to finalize her abdication in the morning than she had been the day before. Unfortunately, she couldn't put it off any longer.
Master Cyclonis was her identity. As her father's firstborn (and as fate would have it, his only child), it was who she had been born to be someday. After his death, it was who her grandmother had spent countless hours grooming her to become, knowing that the day of her ascension would come sooner than anyone had planned. It was who she had been for these past two very long years. And it was who she had expected to die as. She didn't know who she was under the mantle of the Master. She supposed it didn't really matter.
Taking up the pen, she signed the letter, casting off that identity. With it went a lifetime of expectations, obligations, and the weight of responsibility that being entrusted with the stewardship of an entire empire engendered.
As she lifted pen from paper, a new emotion flooded her. It was one that she hadn't had cause to feel many times throughout her life, and its presence now was confusing and unwelcome.
She handed the letter to Captain Swift, could see the wary concern in his eyes, and was glad. His wariness meant that she looked upset. Upset was good. It was appropriate under the circumstances. Upset was what she should be feeling.
Not this overwhelming sense of relief.
Tern sat in his office, reading over the speech Cyclonis had written. It was better than he had anticipated. Her word choice was measured, tone judicious; it was precisely the kind of statement he envisioned when he assigned her the task. And yet, now that it was in front of him, penned in Cyclonis' small, precise handwriting, he couldn't help but feel suspicious of it. He resolved the send it to a code breaker to comb through line by line and ensure she hadn't snuck in any hidden messages.
Someone knocked on his door, and he set the speech aside as he looked up. "Enter," he called. The door opened, and Aerrow stepped in.
He smiled at the boy in greeting. "What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you've finished picking who's going to sit on the tribunal yet."
Tern pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began cleaning his glasses, looking down at them thoughtfully. He had a feeling he knew what was on Aerrow's mind, and he wanted to buy himself some time to consider how to let him down gently.
"I have three Sky Knights who have already agreed to serve. I'm working on the final two," he answered slowly.
Aerrow snapped to attention and said, "I would like to volunteer to be a part of the tribunal."
Tern nodded to himself. It was as he suspected.
"I appreciate your civic-mindedness and your sense of duty, but I must reject your request."
Aerrow's face fell. "But why? You know that no one has worked harder to stop Cyclonia than me and my squadron. I want to see this through to the end!"
"I understand that. But you've done enough. Let others manage the rest."
"Do you think I'm too young? Is that what this is about? Because if Cyclonis is old enough to stand trial, then I'm old enough to be a part of the tribunal," he reasoned.
Tern fought to keep a frown off his face. He didn't like to dwell on the fact that Cyclonia's last empress was no older than the kind, idealistic young man who stood before him. It was easy enough to ignore when her actions belied her age, and her eyes burned with the same terrible darkness as her grandmother's.
"That is a false equivalency. There is a difference between standing trial and standing in judgement over one. You are young. You have no experience in these matters. And, I think, you are too personally invested."
"With all due respect, Chairman, we're all personally invested!"
Tern sighed. "I know you think I'm being unfair to you, Aerrow, but believe me when I say that I am just trying to look out for your best interests. I don't think you fully grasp what being a part of this tribunal entails, the hard decisions that will have to be made. It's not just about determining guilt or innocence. There's also the sentencing to consider."
"I can handle being part of the discussion about how much time they should spend in the Stockade."
Tern returned his handkerchief to its pocket and put his glasses back on, fixing Aerrow with a significant look. "If found guilty, imprisonment isn't a foregone conclusion."
"Sure, it is. Why wouldn't it be?" Aerrow asked, and he sounded so confused that it would have strengthened Tern's resolve if his resolve needed strengthening. "You can't just let them go!"
"No, we can't," Tern agreed and waited until the proverbial lightbulb went off.
"Oh. But that…that's not really an option, is it? I mean, killing an enemy in the heat of battle is one thing, and even then, we try to avoid it when we can. But to kill in cold blood? That can't really be on the table, can it?"
"How could it not be? The severity of their crimes certainly warrants capital punishment being strongly considered."
"But we're the good guys! We don't do that unless there's no other way."
"And you believe that imprisonment is that other way?"
"Well, yeah."
"Even though you, yourself, have escaped from not one, but two maximum-security prisons in as many years?"
"I couldn't have done that without Radarr."
"Don't you think that Cyclonis and the Dark Ace are at least as resourceful as you and your pet?"
"Co-pilot," Aerrow said automatically. "And I don't know. Maybe," he hedged with a frown. He stared down at the floor for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. "Fine. If I was on the tribunal and everyone else agreed that death was the only option that made sense, I…I wouldn't stand in the way. I can make the tough decisions, Chairman." His jaw was hard, but his eyes were troubled.
"I'm sure you can," Tern answered. "But you don't have to. My decision is final. You are not serving on this tribunal."
"We're going outside to get some fresh air," Captain Swift announced without preamble.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No. It'll be good for you."
"But Gwen's show is about to start."
"Oh! Gwen's show is about to start! Well, in that case-"
Captain Swift strode over to the radio and clicked it off. "We're going outside. Now. Come on."
And that was how Cyclonis found herself out in the courtyard under the watchful gaze of Captain Swift and a handful of his guards. The place was empty of people save for them and the Dark Ace, who was already out and walking the yard's perimeter when she arrived. When his circuit brought him around to where she stood, she fell in step beside him.
"I see they dragged you out here, too."
"There was very little dragging involved, Master. Better here than locked in that room, staring at the walls."
"I submitted my declaration of abdication this morning," she told him, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. "Technically, it's inappropriate to address me by that title any longer."
"How would you have me address you, then?"
She shrugged. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Truthfully, he was the only person still alive to have once referred to her by her given name, but the thought of returning to that level of casual familiarity felt strange. It had been one thing when she was a child, before taking on the role of Master Cyclonis, but now? It felt too intimate. At the same time, demanding he refer to her by her surname felt too distant. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, after all. Undecided, she settled on the path of least resistance.
"I leave that up to you," she told him.
He hummed noncommittedly in response. He was a man who preferred straightforward answers.
Once their route had taken them to the far side of the courtyard, he stopped. Then, crossing his arms, he leaned back against the wall and asked, "Have you given much thought yet to the upcoming trial?"
"What kind of question is that? What else is there to do around here?"
"Not much. Do you know how you intend to plead?"
"Not guilty. Cyclonia isn't bound by Atmosia's weak customs. The entire concept of war crimes is ridiculous. Oh no, did someone get hurt? It's war! That's what happens!"
He laughed. "You'll get no argument from me. But they're not going to see it the same way," he said.
"Obviously not," she agreed. "We wouldn't be having this trial if they did."
"So, your entire defence hinges on an argument that you already know they're going to reject?"
"What's the alternative? Pretend that we haven't done things Atmosia considers objectionable? I'm sure they have plenty of evidence to the contrary."
"No doubt. We haven't exactly operated in secrecy over the years. The only real alternative is to plead guilty."
"And hand them victory? No. I've done enough of that already."
"They'll get their victory either way. You know it. I know it. They know it. If we acknowledge wrongdoing, it may make them more malleable."
"And why would we need them malleable, Dark Ace?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Perhaps because they hold our fates in their hands."
She frowned at him, then shifted her frown to Captain Swift. She couldn't tell if he had been watching them and looked away when she glanced his way or if he was actually scanning the yard like he seemed to be, but she had a guess.
She looked back to Dark Ace while pointing an accusing finger in the captain's direction. "He put you up to this, didn't he?"
"Put me up to what?"
"Don't play dumb! Am I supposed to think it's a coincidence that you steered the conversation toward the trial, and now you're giving me advice that's suspiciously similar to the advice he gave me yesterday? I told him I didn't want to talk about it, and he said he wouldn't mention it again. Now I know why. He was already planning to use you to do his talking for him! And you went along with it!"
Dark Ace gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Well? Am I right?"
"You're impossible to talk to when you get like this."
"Like what?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"Paranoid."
"It's not paranoia if it's true. Which it is because you're deflecting instead of giving me a straight answer."
"Alright! Yes, he asked me to talk to you about the trial."
"I knew it! You're conspiring against me with the enemy?"
"Now you're just being dramatic."
"Am I? How else am I supposed to take you two plotting to manipulate me into doing what you want?"
"That is the most asinine take on the situation you could have possibly come up with! I'm trying to help you."
"I don't care what you're trying to do! You went behind my back! I thought you were loyal to me."
"I am."
"But I suppose once a traitor, always a-"
"Don't," he warned in a low voice.
"Traitor," she finished viciously, and he exploded.
"What the hell's wrong with you? It wasn't enough for you to jettison Ravess? And Snipe? And the Raptors? Now it's my turn?" he shouted.
"How d-"
"No, how dare you!" he spoke over the top of her, shocking her into silence. "I have stood by your side since the day we met! I taught you how to fight! I taught you how to ride! When your grandmother died, and everyone else expected you to be the Master and not a grieving twelve-year-old, whose shoulder did you cry on? In case you've forgotten, it was mine! No one has served you more faithfully! If anyone deserves to not have their loyalty called into question by you, it's me!"
She gawked at him. Did he really think she had forgotten all that? Why did he think she was angry at him? It was because he had never given her cause to question his loyalty before now. His common sense? On one or two occasions. But never his loyalty.
"I know," she said, voice cracking.
He looked comically shocked at her concession but quickly masked it.
"Then why do so?"
"Because you should have told me from the beginning that Captain Swift asked you to talk to me about this! You had to have known that if he was coming to you, it was because he had already failed at talking to me himself. You should have laughed in his face and refused. But, instead, you tried to deceive me."
"As a matter of fact, I did laugh in his face."
"Then why are we having this conversation?"
"Because I agree with him on one thing. I don't want you to die."
"I do."
"What?" he frowned, his brow furrowing.
"That sounded worse than I intended. I don't want to. I'm not looking forward to it. But I don't want to spend the rest of my life locked in a cage, either. How long would that be? Fifty years? Sixty? I can't…I can't imagine that. Don't pretend you don't feel the same way. It's only been a few days, and you're already complaining about how bored you are staring at the walls."
He didn't respond.
"You certainly haven't been shy about voicing your opinions so far this afternoon. So don't stop now."
"I think you're letting your fear override your better judgement," he said, his frown deepening.
"I'm not afraid," she protested.
He raised an eyebrow. "You'd rather die than face decades of imprisonment. That's not fear talking?"
"I change my mind. You can keep your opinions to yourself."
He suppressed a smirk and plowed on ahead, asking, "Have you really thought this through?"
"Yes."
"Because death is permanent."
"Wow. I had no idea. Thank you for educating me on how death works."
"I just mean that however certain you feel about this decision now, you may feel quite differently once you're eye to eye with the executioner. And by that point, it'll be too late to do anything about it."
"Well, if that happens, at least I won't have long to live with the regret."
That made him laugh. Shaking his head, he threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat.
"In that case, you're right; I don't like the idea of living out the rest of my days in a cell any more than you do. I think I'll join you on the scaffold."
"Hey, Aerrow, how did it go?" Piper asked as he walked into the room and plunked himself down onto the couch. She didn't really need to ask; the answer was written all over his face.
"The Chairman said no."
"Did he say why?"
"He said I'm too young and inexperienced."
"Well, he's not entirely wrong," she said as gently as she could.
Aerrow slumped down lower on the couch, and she frowned. He seemed really bothered by the rejection. Not that she could blame him. She knew he really wanted to be a part of the proceedings.
"Dude, don't sweat it," Finn offered, looking up from the game of checkers he was playing with Junko. "The trial is probably gonna be super boring, anyway."
"Boring? Really? This is going to be the trial of the century!" Piper said, then cast a sheepish look at Aerrow. "I mean…maybe it'll be boring."
"I'm just saying, it's probably gonna go like this," Finn went on. He adopted a stuffy tone as he assumed the role of a judge, "You stand accused of being the baddest of bad guys! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"You're right; I am clearly evil. You can tell because a good person could never pull off this outfit," he continued, changing his voice so that he was now speaking in a slightly hoarse semi whisper, enunciating his words with quiet intensity and exaggerated 'S' sounds. She slapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head, glancing over at Aerrow, who was also fighting not to laugh. Finn went on, obviously encouraged by their reactions. "And even though I can totally sound like a normal person, I choose to talk like this, so no one ever forgets how evil I am. But in my defence, my whole family has been evil going back to the dawn of time, so I was just trying to uphold the family legacy."
"Uphold the family legacy? Those are pretty big words for you, Finn," she teased him.
"I like using big words," Finn continued, not dropping the act. "It makes me sound smart, and that makes me feel superior to everyone else. Which I am, obviously, even though I keep losing to the Storm Hawks, and my parents never loved me, and-"
"Aww," Junko interrupted. "That's so sad!"
"He just made that last part up, Junko," she reassured him, giggling.
"You like it?" Finn asked as himself, buffing his nails on his shirt. "Thought I'd drop in a little tragic backstory. People love those!"
"You're terrible," she told him.
"Can't be that terrible. I made you laugh, didn't I?" he smirked triumphantly.
"While I agree that tragic backstories are the best backstories," Stork spoke up from where he had been silently listening to the conversation. "If I had to guess, I'd say the trial will probably focus more on the actual bad things she's done."
"Which is boring, like I said!" Finn said. "Everyone already knows all that stuff. So, they're just gonna list them all and ask her if she did them. And maybe she'll say yes, and maybe she'll say no, but it doesn't matter what she says because we all know the real answer is yes. And the judge is gonna bang his gavel," he said, slapping his hand down on the table and upsetting the game board. "And he's gonna say, 'Guilty! You're going to the pokey for one thousand years!' Same thing with Dark Ace. And that'll be the end of it!"
"You do have a point," she said.
"I do?" Finn asked in surprise. "I mean, yeah, I know I do!"
"As momentous as this trial is, from a historical perspective, it's not like there's really going to be any surprises."
"Momentous trial, historical perspective. Cyclonis isn't the only one who likes to sound smart," Finn stage whispered, and she made a face at him, which he returned.
"Are you trying to jinx it, Piper?" Stork asked, eye twitching.
"I'm not jinxing anything!"
"Okay. Well, when they escape, flee to The Farside, return with a whole new army that's armed to the teeth with shiny new crystals, weapons and armour that isn't allergic to Radarr's fur, and take over Atmos for good this time, everyone in this room will know exactly who's to blame."
She looked to Aerrow for backup, but his earlier good humour at Finn's antics had evaporated, leaving him quiet and pensive once more.
"Hey," she said to him. "Are you okay?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Everything's fine."
"That was convincing," she said dryly.
He smiled at her. "Seriously, I'm fine. I think I'm going to go train for a while."
"Want some company?"
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks."
She gave him an hour, and then she went looking for him. She found him in the skimmer bay, in the corner they had converted into a gym and furnished with new (well, new to them, anyway) equipment they had bought using money from their first month's stipend as an official squadron.
He was sweaty and winded but showed no signs of stopping as he punched and kicked at the heavy punching bag they had mounted from the ceiling.
"Hey," she greeted.
He gave one last spinning kick to the bag before turning to face her. "Hey."
"Are you sure you're okay? You were pretty quiet earlier."
"I'm sure," he answered, tugging off his gloves and hanging them up.
"You know you're terrible at hiding when something's bothering you," she pointed out.
"I just needed to blow off some steam. I'm good."
"What happened with the Chairman?"
"I already told you. He said I don't have the experience to be a part of the tribunal."
"That's it?"
"That's all that matters. He's not going to change his mind, so…." He shrugged. "I guess the Cyclonians are officially not our problem anymore."
"And that bothers you?" she asked slowly. She was sure that there was something he was holding back.
"No," he answered. "I'm happy they aren't a threat anymore."
"Well yeah, we all are!"
"They aren't a threat anymore, right?" he asked, uncharacteristically hesitant.
"You're asking me? Your guess is as good as mine."
"I'm asking your opinion. You're the one who made those cuff things. Do you really think they're going to hold Cyclonis forever?"
"I…I'm not sure. They have so far, which is promising. Is that what's bothering you?"
"Kinda. I mean, Ravess and Snipe are still out there somewhere, but I'm not really all that worried about them. If they start trouble, we can stop them pretty easily. If Dark Ace escaped, he could cause a lot of problems, but without Cyclonis directing him, what's he really going to accomplish on a large scale? Dealing with him on his own would probably be like dealing with the Murk Raiders. But Cyclonis…."
"Yeah. Finn was wrong about one thing. She doesn't just sound smart; she is smart."
"And resourceful. And determined. If she were to escape, this would start up all over again. We just barely won this war. There's no guarantee we'd win the next one."
She frowned, turning over all the possible scenarios that could happen should that occur in her mind.
"So, what do you think?" Aerrow asked.
"I think that with regular monitoring to make sure she hasn't discovered a way to neutralize the cuffs and vigilant guards, it's going to be really difficult for her to escape. And even if she did, I have faith in our ability to stop her before she does any real damage. You read the treaty. It cripples the Cyclonian Empire. She'd only have a fraction of the army she had before to work with. Atmosia has the door to the Farside locked down tight, so there's no way she could access it without us knowing. She doesn't have Terra Cyclonia anymore, which was the only terra in the Empire big enough to destroy other terras, so she can't use that trick again. Which reminds me, we should really get down to the Wastelands soon to see what remains of Cyclonia before scavengers pick it clean."
"So that we can pick it clean first?" he smirked.
"Well, waste not want not! And that way, we can make sure that she can't get her hands on anything dangerous that might have survived the lava. So what I'm trying to say is that even if she did escape and did go back to trying to conquer the world, she'd be fighting an uphill battle the whole way."
"So, you don't think she's a real threat anymore?"
"I can't say that for sure, Aerrow. I just think the threat she poses is manageable. To not be a threat at all, she'd either have to have some seriously major change of heart or…" she trailed off, frowning.
"Or die," he finished for her.
"Is it weird that I'd prefer a major change of heart?"
"I don't think it's weird," he answered with a small, almost sad smile. "A little optimistic, maybe."
"It's just, we nearly died. She nearly killed us! And do you think she would have lost any sleep over it if she had succeeded?"
"Probably not."
"Probably not!" she agreed. She huffed an angry sigh. "Why does she have to be such a…a…a jerk? What's so great about ruling the world, anyway? It sounds awful! Stressful, lonely, and awful!"
"Power? Wealth?" He paused and then grinned, "Upholding the family legacy?"
She rolled her eyes. "How much power and wealth does one person need? It just doesn't seem worth it to me."
"Well, you're a good person, Piper."
"That's what's so frustrating! She could be, too! I've seen fleeting glimpses of it!"
"Are you sure you're not just seeing what you want to see?"
"Maybe," she shrugged and sighed again, feeling more frustrated than angry this time. "I know I shouldn't hold my breath waiting for a change of heart. And she's young enough that she's not going to die anytime soon. So yeah, for now, I'd say she's still a threat, but not nearly as much of one as she was this time last we-what is it?" she asked, not missing the way Aerrow frowned and looked away from her as she spoke.
He shook his head, but she wasn't deterred. Instead, she thought back to what she had been saying when his mood shifted again. It was right after she had mentioned Cyclonis not dying soon.
"Okay, what do you know that I don't? Aerrow? We don't keep secrets from each other."
"There was one reason, in particular, the Chairman gave for why he thinks I'm too young and inexperienced to serve on the tribunal. He didn't think I should be involved in the sentencing."
"Because he thinks they'll vote for execution," she guessed.
"Yes."
She cursed the way her chest grew heavy at the thought. If the roles were reversed, their enemies wouldn't grieve at the thought of their deaths! It wasn't fair!
"But that just seems so…unnecessary!"
"He didn't seem to think so."
"Did he say who the tribunal members are?"
"No, just that he's chosen three of five so far. Why?"
"If we knew who they were, we could maybe figure out how likely they'll be to vote for death versus imprisonment."
"And figure out how likely it is that we could influence their decision?" he asked with the tiniest hint of a smirk.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Just a little," he answered with a fond smile. "Alright, let's start asking around. Someone's bound to know something."
As luck would have it, it wasn't hard to find the information they were looking for. They had decided to grab lunch at the Balmy Skies Bistro, and it was there that they ran into half of the Absolute Zeroes.
"Hey guys, I'm surprised to see you still on Atmosia!" Aerrow said as Piper hugged Suzy Lu, and everyone else greeted each other with a round of high fives and fist bumps. "I would have thought you'd be eager to start relocating your people back to Blizzaris."
"We are," Suzy Lu explained. "But the Cyclonians need to get off our terra first, eh. So I sent Billy, Bobby, and Emily to oversee that. Once that's taken care of, Davey and Jenna here will head off to Terra Nord, and them and a couple of the Berserkers will start shuttling people back to Blizzaris."
"And what'll you be doing?" Piper asked her.
"Oh, me and Brimir are gonna be busy with the tribunal. Our squads are just gonna have to make do without us for a little while."
"You're part of the tribunal?" Piper exclaimed, tossing a grin back over her shoulder at him, and he smiled back at her. He knew what she was thinking. Suzy Lu was a good person and a friend. They might be able to get her to see things their way.
"Well, don't sound so surprised, eh," Suzy Lu said in mock offence.
"No, I didn't mean that in a bad way!" Piper rushed to assure her. "We were just wondering earlier who was going to be on the tribunal, that's all. So, it's you, Brimir of the Berserkers of Terra Nord, and…."
"Harrier," she answered. "You know, from the Rex Guardians?"
"Ugh, yeah, we know him," Finn said, cutting into the conversation. "I told you guys this trial was going to be boring; he'll make sure of that. Anyway, I'm starving! Are we gonna stand around here and talk all day, or are we gonna eat?"
"Yeah," he told him. "Why don't you all go order us some food. Suzy Lu, Piper and I will go find us some tables."
Finn didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Junko and ran off to order at the counter. Davey and Jenna weren't far behind, and Radarr leapt off Aerrow's shoulder and shot off after them. Stork looked between the two groups before deciding to stay with the group that was scouting for tables.
"I heard there's supposed to be two more members," Aerrow said as they walked towards the back of the bistro. "Any idea who?"
"Oh sure," Suzy Lu replied. "The Council sent word to the Sky Knight of the Desert Falcons. Azar, I think their name is? Since Terra Xerxxes hasn't had to deal much with the Cyclonians, they think they'll be more impartial. Same reason they chose Brimir. They haven't gotten a response from the Falcons yet, though."
"That makes sense. And the fifth?" Piper asked.
"Your Interceptor friend."
"Starling?! They asked Starling?"
"Yup. She hasn't given them an answer, either. Said she wanted to think about it. What's to think about, eh?"
He exchanged another look with Piper. If Starling said yes, she was another tribunal member they had an in with. He didn't hold out much hope that Harrier could be swayed, and he didn't know Brimir well or Azar at all. Really, they only had two chances here.
They found a couple open tables near each other. Piper and Suzy Lu sat at one, while he and Stork sat at the other.
"You're awfully interested in who's serving on this tribunal," Stork said quietly, for his ears only.
"I'm still kinda bummed that I'm not," he answered, keeping his voice as low as Stork's.
"But if two of your friends are, then you might be able to have some sort of say in what happens?"
Aerrow frowned. Maybe Piper wasn't the only one who could be a little obvious, sometimes.
"If you ask me, I say let them die."
"How do you-"
"-know that they'll probably be executed? It wasn't that hard to guess."
"Well, what makes you think that I want to steer people away from that decision?"
""Why do I think you and Piper want to, you mean? Do you want my honest answer?" He nodded and Stork shrugged, "You two have always had kind of a…weird relationship with them. I think you see yourselves in them."
"We're nothing like them," he protested.
"Well then you tell me why you care so much about what happens to them."
"I don't know. Executing them just doesn't feel like the right thing to do."
"Hmm. See, I think the entire Atmos would be a safer place without them."
"Atmos is equally safe with them behind bars."
"Can you guarantee that?"
"What are you doing, Stork?"
"Isn't it obvious? You really need to work on your argument. If you can't convince me, how are you going to convince Starling? Or even Suzy Lu?"
"So, what, this was a test? You don't really think the world is better off with them dead?"
"Oh no, I definitely do. I'd like to blame mind worms for this latest scheme you two have cooked up, but I've known you long enough to realize that this is just the way you are. So, good luck. You're going to need it."
"But-"
"Shhh," Stork said, ironically louder than their entire whispered conversation had been. "Food's here."
He looked up to see Junko and Davey carrying trays laden with large bowls of stew, Finn and Jenna behind them with trays of empty glass steins and pitchers full of amber liquid, Radarr bringing up the rear with a giant basket of Galean bread rolls.
"What the heck, guys?" Aerrow said. "I thought we were just having a light lunch!"
"This is light," Junko and Davey said in unison.
"Is that beer?"
"For sure!" Jenna answered. "Ours is, anyway."
"Ours is apple cider," Finn answered, disappointed. "They wouldn't sell me beer, even though Jenna tried to tell them it was okay."
"Jenna!" Suzy Lu chided. "They're just kids! You gotta wait until they're sixteen to buy 'em beer!"
"The legal drinking age is nineteen," Piper pointed out.
"Meh," Suzy Lu shrugged. "Sixteen's good enough."
Piper shook her head good-naturedly and got up from the Blizzarian's table, moving over to theirs. "Swap with me, Stork?" she asked. Each table only sat four people, and Stork was the only Storm Hawk old enough to drink.
Stork shrugged, moving to the other table, and she sat in the seat he vacated.
"So, what were you two talking about?" she asked Aerrow as she poured them both some cider.
He shook his head. "I'll tell you later."
The weekend came and went, and the new week dawned with news that the Council approved both her abdication and the statement she would record for Cyclonia. That same day, she recorded her message calling for peace and ended by announcing her abdication, effective immediately. It was scheduled to air at 5:00 PM, and then she would officially lose her claim to the throne now and in the future. Again, she marvelled at how freeing it felt. A part of her, a foolish part, wondered what her life could have been like if she had just done this from the start, if she had simply refused to lead Cyclonia when the time came. It was a very foolish fantasy, of course. Someone would have stepped forward to rule; she had no doubt of that. But she also had no doubt that they would never allow her to live. The threat of her or some future child of hers attempting to reclaim the throne was too great. They'd have no choice but to snuff out her bloodline to secure their own. She wouldn't have earned some happy, carefree life, but one spent dodging assassins until her luck finally ran out. But it was fun to pretend.
The next day, the tribunal members were announced. The Chairman was the presiding judge. He would serve as the facilitator to the proceedings but not take part in the deliberations. The actual tribunal members were the Sky Knights of Terra Rex, Terra Nord, Terra Blizzaris, Terra Mesa, and Terra Xerxxes.
The day after, she was presented with the list of charges against her. The Chairman decided to deliver them to her personally, and she decided to take advantage of that fact. If the outcome of this trial didn't go their way, which was likely, she wanted to make sure this man well and truly hated her. He may not be part of the deliberation, but there was no way he was going to keep his nose out of the sentencing. She was sure of that. So she skimmed the multi-page document, counted the charges, then looked up at him. "Is this it?"
"Excuse me?"
"It's just that if I had gotten one more, I could have sent away for a secret decoder ring," she said flippantly, tossing the pages onto the desk.
She didn't think he could look any dourer than he usually did, but she was wrong.
"Do you think this is funny?"
She merely smirked at him in response.
"You-" he began, but he stopped himself. Whatever the rest of the sentence had been must have been pretty bad. "I would tread carefully if I were you," he said instead.
"Ohhhh, or what? Are you going to toss me in the Stockade for making a joke?"
"I may not play a role in determining your guilt or innocence, but I will have some say in your sentencing," he said, confirming her suspicions.
"Therefore, it would be prudent of you to approach this trial with the gravity it deserves."
"Don't worry, I intend to," she answered him, keeping her tone light.
He shook his head and left. She grinned as she watched him go, but it faded when the door closed, and Captain Swift, who had been standing beside the door the whole time watching them, drew attention to himself by clearing his throat. He had his arms crossed and a frown on his face.
"What was that?"
She shrugged.
"I know you two get along about as well as oil and water, but you certainly aren't helping matters by acting like a disrespectful brat."
"I don't care."
"You should. What do you hope to gain by deliberately antagonizing him?"
"What I hope for is none of your concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really don't have time to talk about the Chairman. I need to review these," she said, sitting at the desk and picking up the list of charges.
He shook his head but left without further comment, leaving her to study what she was being accused of: The planning, preparation, and waging of a war of aggression; the persecution and extrajudicial detention of political prisoners; the ill-treatment of prisoners of war; plunder of property; nine counts of the wanton destruction of inhabited terras; and the extermination of the native population of Terra Tropica.
She sighed. Arguing in her own defence against these charges was not going to be easy.
And argue in her own defence is what she intended to do. The next day she was offered legal counsel, which she declined. The lawyer looked taken aback by her declination, strongly advising against that course of action. She asked him if he honestly believed that he could convince the tribunal members to vote in her favour. After a lot of hemming and hawing, he admitted that he likely couldn't. He stopped arguing after that.
Early the next day, it was announced that the trial would begin on Monday. Captain Swift allowed her and Dark Ace to meet over the next few days to strategize and plan their defence. As her right hand and primary implementor of many of Cyclonia's policies, Dark Ace faced the same list of charges that she did. They pored over the evidence Atmosia had compiled and managed to pull together some semblance of a defence. Not enough to save themselves, but at least they would give Atmosia one last fight.