Hello my darlings! I am back after a short vacation. I can barely believe we're already at chapter 20 of this random shit. I'm kinda proud of myself. I will hopefully update again soon, though I must say, I would be motivated by more comments...

Now please don't go on calling me spoiled (I already know that I am) but it is true that I spend a great deal of time planning, writing and editing every chapter. I already feel very appreciated by you guys, but getting feedback on my work is one of the best parts of my day. I haven't got much feedback here, and it's making me turn more to other websites when I update this. So please, please review!

Moving on, I should warn you guys that my updates will become more infrequent in the next few weeks as I return to education (yay). I will have more responsibilities, so this may not always be a priority

RECAP:
- The bounty hunters and pirates are travelling to Rela to find a contact of Roderich's who can potentially help them get their friends back. Getting onto the planet will be difficult, but Arthur has a contact who may help him get inside.
- Lukas and Emilia are with the resistance. Kari, Elizabeta and Matthew are now also aware of their presence. Lukas is being trained by a Jhobrasian fighter named Nelia (Peru)
- Feliks, Tori, Gilbert and Roderich are prisoners of the rebels, and a bail has been set for their release
- Lovino and Feliciano remain in Bibesti, where they have started to get to know their neighbour/assassin Vash

For any American readers, 200,000 square kilometres = 77,220 square miles, which is roughly the size of the state of Nebraska, just for scale.

Concerning one of the things Francis says, I am a middle child too, lol

Onboard the ISS Marauder,
Entrant Checkpoints, Rela,
5th Marrch

Matthias sternly kept his mouth shut as the automated voice filtered through their communication links. They had just come within reach of Rela's short-range broadcasting services. The message they were all listening to was no doubt being heard by every other ship trying to enter the planet.

"Good day, traveller. Your vessel has just entered Rela's area of orbit. If you wish to enter Rela, proceed forwards to the preliminary checkpoints. If you do not wish to enter Rela, please make checkpoint staff aware of this, and you may be issued with a permit to remain in orbit. Thank you for your cooperation." The voice cut off at this. Matthias exchanged a look with Antonio, who was currently piloting the ship.

"Take it easy," he advised, "We aren't familiar with Rela's entry customs." Antonio nodded, before beginning to adjust levers and switches on the ship's console, before nudging it towards the massive checkpoint area. They had to slot themselves in line behind a large freighter; evidently a cargo ship of some kind.

Rela was visible below them, a myriad of greens, amber and grey covering it's surface. The view was a little fuzzy, however. In the past seven years, after continual raids by criminal warships, and travellers entering the atmosphere during severe storms, the whole planet had been put under lock; a massive forcefield spread across the whole planet. It wasn't strong enough to keep ships out, but it was connected to very powerful sensors. Within seconds of breaching it, you'd have security forces on your ass, arresting you for violating Rela's ingression laws. They had all agreed that, as skilled as Antonio was as a pilot, and as magnificent a ship as the Marauder was, they'd be far better off going in the legal way (for once).

The preliminary checkpoint was a massive structure in the shape of a rough circle. It held the only hole in Rela's forcefield, but due to the numbers of security here, anyone who tried to go through without being cleared would be shot out of the sky. So, they just had to wait. They'd all rifled through their belongings to find the most mundane, civilian clothes that they owned. Matthias couldn't remember the last time he hadn't worn something made of black leather. Even his favourite boots hadn't passed their rigorous inspection, and had been replaced with worn brown lace-up boots. Matthias personally wasn't very fond of the change. Francis looked downright weird, wearing dulled colours, rather than the brighter clothes he wore more often.

Of all of them, however, it was Arthur who seemed to look the most different. He was wearing dark pants that came about ¾ down his legs, a long-sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just under his elbows, a pair of brown suspenders, worn boots like Matthias' with the top flaps hanging open carelessly, and a ragged brown wool scarf thrown around his neck – the kind used by people in urban areas like Loszok to protect from pollution and the other unpleasantries which came from low socio-economic areas. His hair looked a little windswept, and honestly, had Matthias not seen him wearing nicer clothes before, he would have assumed he was just another Rela native. He slid into the working-class look so well that Matthias wondered if the pirate had always been as wealthy as he was now. Some of Arthur's crew, like Leon and Mei, were clearly from poorer backgrounds, but Kirkland was such a mystery. Matthias didn't even know where he was from. Judging by his fair skin, blonde hair and green eyes, he would guess Pyndaph like Feliks, but his accent was well-off.

He shook his head. It wasn't like he had gone and shared deep secrets with the captain. Kirkland had the right to his privacy. Matthias surveyed the others, to make sure that they were abiding by the dress code as well. Louise seemed to be trying to rearrange her short hair into something less conspicuous. After a moment or two of struggling, she seemingly gave up, scooping up a lumpy woollen cap to cover her head. Matthias had to conceal a snicker at that. Louise wasn't used to caring much about her appearance. Gilbert hadn't raised her to do so.

Thinking of his missing team member pulled the smile from Matthias' face quickly. He needed to stay on task. Their whole mission to rescue their friends could come apart if they did something wrong at these checkpoints.

Their ship, which had been drifting along slowly, shuddered to a stop, pulling him from his thoughts. Looking out the front screen, he could see that they had reached the preliminary checkpoint. He knew that their ship was being examined and scanned for potentially dangerous substances. A request to open a video link popped on the screen and, after dusting himself down, Antonio answered it. A stern-faced woman – a security overseer judging by the uniform – appeared. She cleared her throat.

"Good Morning." She said curtly. Antonio smiled, returning the greeting. She observed some screen out of view of the camera, before turning to face Antonio again.

"You are wishing to enter Rela?" she asked. Antonio nodded.

"Yes, we are ma'am." She nodded.

"And you have how many passengers on board?" Relusian scanners had already gone over their ship, so there was no point in lying. Antonio thought for a moment, counting them up.

"Um, thirteen, I believe." The woman nodded again.

"I see. And what is the purpose of your visit to Rela?" Antonio relaxed a little, giving her a dazzling smile.

"Just a few things here and there. Conducting some business and meeting up with some old friends. Nothing much." She nodded again.

"And how long do you believe you will be on Rela? Be aware that if you expect to be on-world for more than three months, then you are required to lodge for a visitation or intention of residency visa." Antonio laughed lightly, waving off her question.

"Only a few days, ma'am." She nodded.

"I am obliged to warn you that the South-Eastern cities have suffered a hit from seasonal storms in the past few weeks. Some services may be unavailable." Antonio nodded.

"I see. We are going to be spending time mostly in Loszok. Has it been badly affected?"

"It was one of the first cities to be hit by the storms, but it has a very efficient relief system. Most services should have been restored. The same goes for Bibesti and Kramis. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Fordanask. There is still heavy flooding, I believe." Antonio nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, sounding sympathetic, "We'll try to navigate around it." She nodded, clearly disinterested.

"Well, you've been cleared for entry. You can make your way on to the Loszok entry point."

Antonio nodded again. "Thank you." She waved dismissively, and the connection cut off. Matthias gave a happy whoop.

"First checkpoint down!" he clapped Antonio on the shoulder as he manoeuvred the ship towards where the Loszok checkpoint was indicated. Antonio grinned.

"Don't forget, the preliminary checkpoint is the easy part," Arthur warned, frown creasing his brow, "we still have to get through security."

Francis slid into the seat next to Antonio as their ship began to descend into Rela's atmosphere. As they grew closer, Loszok became visible. It was a massive city, spanning about 200,000 square kilometres. It's many towering buildings were easily visible the lower they got, but hovering drones directed them towards the port where they would keep their ship until they left the city.

They landed in one of the empty bays, and slowly disembarked. Francis had to shout at Antonio to hurry up after he started to quadruple check that all of their security measures were in place. The Jhobrasian jumped, smiled sheepishly, and darted after them.

Security at on-world ports like this one reminded Francis a lot of airports. Even though airports were only used for on-world destinations, and spaceports like this were used for interplanetary travel, they were similar in appearance. At least, the security sectors were. The room they were in was massive, and brimming with people, all holding passes and official papers which would stop the workers at the checkpoints from immediately having them sent off-world. All of their own group had their passports. Francis' was newer than most of the others' ones, but he didn't mind. He always kept his clean; as a sign of respect for how hard it had been to get it in the first place. The others had initially teased him for it, but quickly given up and just accepted it as one of his quirks.

A part of Francis had been tempted to try and snatch Kirkland's after the pirate had first pulled his from his pocket. Some of his curiosity about Kirkland could have been dispelled if he had, but he knew creating a scene like that wasn't worth the payoff. One of the things which baffled law enforcement the most about Arthur John Kirkland was his name. From the get-go, the pirate had happily spread his name around. Most had believed him a naïve fool for doing so, but his own genius had been discovered later.

Simply; Arthur John Kirkland didn't exist. There was not a single entry in the Index which matched that name. Though Francis doubted that his first name was falsified – he had used it since the two of them had met on Xexei, before he was a pirate – the second and family name were definitely fake. And the first name didn't help much; Arthur was one of the most common names on Pyndaph, Rywan and Incanda, which were coincidentally the three ethnicities which the pirate matched up with the most. His real name eluded the authorities entirely, and only made it harder to catch him. Even though they did have photos of him, he looked nothing right now like he did in any of them, dressed in such humble clothing. If anything, Kirkland was the safest one here.

Despite these facts, the blonde looked like he was about to be sick. The pirate had craned his neck up to observe the checkpoint workers, before drifting into the lane about three down from Francis and the rest of them. Evidently, the 'person who might help him but also might not' was working that lane of people. Francis was keeping his eye on the pirate as he moved forwards in the line. If the pirate was going to get arrested, he might as well watch and enjoy it.

His attention was drawn forwards; he had reached the front of the line, and was being beckoned forward by an incredibly bored-looking woman behind a desk. He quickly shot out a greeting (accompanied by a flirty smile) and handed her his papers, eyes quickly flying back in Kirkland's direction. He was nearing the front of the line.

The woman serving Francis clearly was bored of her job (even though it wasn't even noon yet on Rela) and waved him through without even checking all of his papers. Wow, Natalya was right, Loszok really did have less strict security parameters. Once he had moved past the desk, he paused, moving down the room a little, so he was closer to Kirkland's lane. He leaned on a railing casually, clearly waiting for friends. His eyes went back to the pirate. The worker at the station seemed a little shocked when Kirkland made it to the front of the line, eyes widening and mouth slackening a little. Hopefully, that was not the expression of someone about to call security.

It evidently wasn't, as the worker – who Francis could now see was a young man in perhaps his late twenties, with slightly curly brown hair – accepted Kirkland's papers, scanned them through and said something to the blonde before waving him on. With the conversation clearly over, Kirkland moved through, not so much as glaring in response when Francis raised an eyebrow inquisitively. He didn't even pause, marching forward, looking deep in thought.

They met with Alfred, Louise and Matthias – the only ones who had managed to get through already – in the foyer, and began to wait for the others to join them. They had only been waiting for about 15 minutes – in which time Leon, Yael and Antonio had joined them – when a bell overhead rang, obviously signalling something to the employees of the spaceport. Arthur stiffened, and Francis looked at him with interest. Now he glared at him.

"It just signals the changing of workers on the clearance stations." He said. Looking past Francis, Kirkland straightened up when he saw Ivan, Berwald, Mei, Eduard and Natalya approaching them. The others also began to check their belongings, and they started to depart the spaceport. Before they could go more than a few metres, however, Arthur jerked backwards. Turning around, Francis saw that he had been grabbed by the arm.

By none other than the worker who, until ten seconds ago, had been on one of the clearance stations.

"Not so fast." the man said to Kirkland. The rest of their group stopped, turning and blinking in surprise when they saw the man there. Anxiety crawled up Francis' throat. Had this contact of Kirkland's decided to not let them enter Rela after all? Were security forces bearing down on them even as they stood there?

But within a moment, it became clear that the man was only interested in Kirkland. He released his arm, and crossed his own, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought I asked you to wait. You seem to be doing the opposite." He said bluntly, staring at Kirkland in an accusatory manner. To Francis' immense shock, Arthur actually seemed to look a little guilty, shifting his feet and looking away from the young man.

"I just have places to be is all. I didn't realise that you would get off your shift so soon." The brown-haired man sighed, running a hand over his head, messing up his curls even more.

"O' course you didn't." he murmured, looking almost sorrowfully at Arthur. He sighed. "I know if I ask you questions you'll just go runnin' off again, so I won't be that stupid." He sent Arthur a level gaze. "Honestly, I'm surprised that you're still alive."

Arthur scoffed. "Law enforcement can't kill me that easy." The man just quirked an eyebrow.

"You know that's not what I was talkin' about." He said, surprisingly softly. Arthur set his jaw, staring hard at the ground.

"If the best trained fighters in the Galaxy can't kill me, Colin, what makes you think anything else will?"

The man stared at him for a moment, before shrugging. "I s'pose you're right." The man (Colin, was it?) sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Now, I know you're wondering but would never ask, so I'll be considerate enough to tell ya." He smiled, almost bittersweetly, before continuing. "Niamh is well. Eirinn jus' turned 4. She's started to hurl my own swear words at me." He shook his head a little. "Adorable little shit." Arthur just nodded.

Francis abruptly realised that these two knew each other well. This man, Colin, he wasn't just some acquaintance of a mission long past. He and Arthur…they were close. However, before he could make any move to pull the others away and let these two have their conversation more privately, Colin seemed to end it.

He pulled a wool cap, much like the one Louise was wearing, from his pocket, and tossed it to him before pulling a small sheet of paper from his pocket, scrawling something on it, and handing it to him as well.

"If you want to see 'em again," he mumbled by way of explanation as Arthur accepted the paper, "The cap'll help you blend in with the street folk a little more, if you were worried about that." Colin put his hands in his pockets again. "And…good luck with whatever it is that you're here for." Without another word, Colin nodded to him and breezed on past, walking out of the doors into the sun-drenched streets beyond.

Arthur seemed frozen for a moment before he stowed the paper in his pocket, and pulled the cap over his head. That, Colin was right about. Arthur was immediately transformed into a Relusian working-class native. He scowled at the lot of them, before taking off to leave the spaceport. They were all frozen for a moment, before they darted after him.

"Wait!" Alfred called out as he drew level with the pirate, long legs helping him, "Who was that guy?" Arthur grunted in response. Still, Alfred continued to press him.

"Is he like a friend of yours?" The 20-year-old continued his questioning as they made their way onto the street. Arthur shot him a glare.

"Why does it concern you?" he snapped.

"I'm just curious!" Alfred exclaimed. All of a sudden, the earnest expression on his face dropped away, replaced by something that almost looked…sad, and disappointed, like a kicked puppy. "Is he…like…your boyfriend or something?" Arthur stared at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? No, he's not my boyfriend. Not that it would be any of your business if he was."

"Oh okay." Alfred said, looking rather more relieved and happy than he should. "But then…how do you know him?" Arthur huffed, pulling to a complete halt. Alfred had been following him so closely that he just avoided slamming right into him. The pirate spun around, glaring at the cheerful bounty hunter, as well as the rest of them – who were listening in intently.

"For fucks' sake. Colin is my brother, so you can stop whining over it." Without further comment on it, he continued walking. However, his announcement only fuelled their curiosity more, and not just Alfred's. Francis saw Natalya frown.

"I didn't know you had a brother." She commented. Arthur sighed.

"Well, I do. Three, in fact." Francis raised an eyebrow at this.

"Oh? Even I didn't know that." Arthur glared at him as he continued. "So, are you the oldest? Youngest? Which one?" he could almost hear Arthur rolling his eyes when he asked, but he couldn't find himself caring. He had just finally learned something about Arthur Kirkland, which was a rare event in itself.

"Youngest."

"Really? Hmm, I thought it was middle children who were supposed to be the bitchy, attention-starved ones."

And, for that comment, Francis also learned that the pirate had no qualms about slapping people in crowded streets.

Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,
6th Marrch

Lukas groaned as Nelia shoved at his shoulder, pain lancing up the joint. He'd been enduring this hell that she called training for about a week now, and he could say that he could dislocate all of his joints now. Sadly, he was less than proficient at relocating them, hence the current situation.

He had asked her endless questions about why it was important, and after a good lecture, he knew not to complain about it again, but he couldn't help it. This training was important, yes, because it could help him contort his body to free himself if he was handcuffed or otherwise restrained, and he could keep fighting even with a dislocated joint. But it hurt so much. If they were doing this perhaps once a week, he would have gone willingly, and even happily. But they were doing it every day; so frequently that his joints didn't have the chance to stop aching before he was going through the wringer again. Nelia was a good instructor, and very patient, but that didn't mean that the exercises became any more pleasant.

And she had told him that he was surprisingly flexible and dexterous compared to others of his age and body type. He winced just thinking about how awful this training was on them.

With a flinch-inducing pop, his shoulder slid back into place, the stinging pains around it finally beginning to subside. Nelia frowned a little, rubbing the area comfortingly.

"How about we call it quits for today?" she said, smiling gently.

"What? No, I'm fine, honestly." They had only started two hours ago, and, considering the fact that yesterday they'd been at this for six hours, it felt weak giving in now. Nelia shook her head a little, pulling along his uninjured arm and making him sit down next to her. "I insist, besides, I'm curious about some things." Lukas raised an eyebrow at this as she paused, looking almost hesitant to continue.

"I'll be honest. Every teacher claims to like all their students equally, but that's bullshit. Everyone has favourites. In my experience, my favourite students are almost always Fynknian." She smiled, nudging him a little. "You guys are naturally talented in combat, and you're all motivated to get better and improve. Some others prefer to give up before getting a technique right, if it's too hard, or painful, or challenging." She sighed. "And because most of my favourites are Fynknian, I normally have to watch them disappear." Nelia stopped talking at this point, and Lukas took the opportunity to speak.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Fynkn. Most of my trainees are only here to get better before going off to join the fight on-world. I must have watched a dozen go all the way to the Falloweil System and never return again. It's just," she clasped her hands together, "I understand, I really do. That planet is your home, and you want to free it from the Union, but…I'm sick of watching people that I've come to enjoy spending time with go and die." She looked down. Lukas was speechless for a moment.

"Nelia…I won't lie and say that I'll never go back to Fynkn. I do want to, but…" he paused for a moment, "If I do, I promise I'll try and come back." She nodded.

"I suppose that's the most I can ask for." Nelia murmured. There was a beat of silence, before she sprung to her feet, so suddenly that Lukas jumped, and began to squint at the distance. "What on earth…?" she muttered, before taking off across the training ground. Startled and confused, Lukas saw no real course of action other than pulling himself to his feet and following her. Nelia's face was creased into a frown, and she slowed upon reaching the edge of the training ground. A stretch of bare earth lay before them, where the leaf-strewn nets that hid them from above no longer afforded them protection. It was only, standing there, that Lukas saw what had caught her attention.

A dark shape was lurking in the sky, gradually growing closer. He squinted at it, before his eyes widened in horrified recognition. Nelia seemed to realise just a moment after he did what it was.

"It's a ship," he hissed, grabbing his mentor's arm, "Nelia, I recognise that model. It's Union-made." It was only this grim statement which was able to break her out of the shocked stupor she seemed to be in. Suddenly, she had turned on her heel and was sprinting back the way they had come, shouting back to him as she did.

"Come on! If it sees you, we're fucking doomed." That was enough to get Lukas sprinting too, ignoring the sharp stinging in his joints as he did. He grabbed Nelia's staff, still lying on the ground from one of their combat practices yesterday, as he ran, tossing it into the covered shelter where they had just been sitting. Nelia continued on through the forest, hurtling over massive roots and boulders which stood in her way. Lukas staggered after her. They needed to raise the alarm, otherwise they could potentially be spotted and fired on.

"Lukas!" Nelia yelled, "Get to the runway! Let everyone know and evac the ships!" he nodded, bolting off in it's direction.

Their runway for ships wouldn't raise any eyebrows, hopefully, since it had been built by the Coysash people decades ago. However, the presence of any ships on it definitely would. Though the runway was known to the Union, it was also known to be abandoned. If they saw anything on there…well, that ship had powerful cannons, and their vessels would be easy targets.

His chest felt ready to burst open when he finally made it there. He doubled over, clutching at his lungs. Luckily, some of the workers on the airfield had spotted him, and came hurrying over.

"Hey, you okay?" that familiar voice almost made Lukas cry with relief. Kari was frowning, but, true to her promise to Yao, was keeping both a physical and emotional distance. He looked up.

"Union ships approaching," he forced out, "the airfield…" Kari was running before he'd even finished his sentence, screaming at the pilots and mechanics to get the ships in the hangars immediately. Kari had sway here, and the rebels trusted her word. Within a second, the runway was a frenzy of movement, as mechanics grabbed their materials and tools and unceremoniously threw them into the tree line to hide them from view, and pilots reboarded their ships to drive them into the hangars at the far end of the flat concrete.

He watched it for a second, breathing still ragged, as the once buzzing airfield became quiet and abandoned within the span of two minutes. A hand on his arm drew his attention, and he relaxed upon seeing that it was Kari, hauling him backwards, into the protection and camouflage which the trees offered. From where he stood, he could see some of the rebels running off, no doubt to alert other sectors of the resistance to the ship's presence. Others had hunched down. He and Kari were seated in the dip between two large tree roots, watching silently.

Then, after a few minutes, it was above them.

It was so large that it cast a shadow across the whole runway, cutting off the sunlight from above and bathing everything in darkness. They could see the underside of the ship, and the cannons and guns which littered it. Kari had clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and frightened. Lukas swore that he had never been so still in his whole life. Fear and concern were thick in the air, and he shifted slightly, preparing for a long wait.

It was almost an hour before an all-clear signal rang out from the east, and the rebels hidden in the trees began to relax and get to their feet, murmuring gravely to one another. Lukas felt shaken as he clambered to his feet, muscles and joints screaming in protest. He exchanged a worried look with Kari. Though, to the other rebels, this was an unfortunate and frightening near-miss, it was a one-off. He and Kari knew better, however.

How much had the spy leaked to the Union? Enough information, clearly, that they knew that the base was on Nyma, and within Coysash territory.

He shuddered, closing his eyes briefly as his thoughts wandered to the rebels around them. He realised his mistake quickly, hand flying to his forehead as his mind unwittingly opened itself to the others in the Resistance.

When he was young, his prowess with his gifts had been tested by a woman from the military. The conversation she had had with his parents later had been just within his range of hearing, and what she had said about his gifts had frightened him.

"He's powerful, remarkably so. One of the strongest manifestations in the past three millennia."

His powers were stronger than even those of his parents. It had been an unspoken issue which had hung in the air between them. Even at such a young age, Lukas had been able to pick up on their private tension and concern. It had only been when he had accidentally read the mind of a diplomatic advisor and asked why he was lying about the Union not being dangerous that they had decided to make sure he learned to control it. In the time since the expansion, however, his main tactic concerning his gifts had been suppression. In the past few years he had felt brave enough to use them a little, but never to a very great extent. He'd always wished to have gifts like the Syhvvanian or Daernic royals, rather than those he did have. If a Syhvvanian royal lost control, the worst thing that could happen is something could be set on fire or thrown out a window telekinetically.

The worst-case scenario for his abilities? He could drive someone to complete insanity, give them absolutely crushing depression or epilepsy, put them in a coma or destroy their self-awareness and sentience entirely. On Fynkn, his ability to manipulate people's minds was known as the Sjeltanker. In all honesty, he would rather not have it.

Lukas staggered as a tidal wave of emotions slammed into him. Kari caught his arm, and he could see her lips moving as a frown creased her brow, but he couldn't hear a thing. His ears were full of fearful, suspicious and confused whispers; thoughts plucked from the heads of everyone around him, creating a buzzing, deafening static in his head. He sank to his knees as they grew louder in volume. He could hear Kari's thoughts in all the mess. They were laced with growing concern over him. He clutched his head, shaking it as if it would help.

He was seeing and hearing things that he shouldn't. Like how that Lysi rebel walking on the airfield was trying to become pregnant with her boyfriend, and how the Metteoan boy dusting off some mechanics' tools was hoping that no-one discovered that he was terrified of the dark.

Suddenly, his head cleared, and he raised his head. Kari had grabbed his hands, his bare skin, and was staring at him, looking worried.

what'swrongishesickhe'sgonepaleisthereanythingicandowhatisgoingonisthisabouttheshipishejusttiredorinjuredwhatisgoingon...

He lurched away, feeling the static return as they broke contact. Her thoughts, jumbled but also clear, flowing through his head like water. He shook his head, willing the static to go silent, to no avail. He staggered to his feet. Kari was looking seriously worried, but this time, he could hear her when she spoke.

"Lukas…? Are you okay?" he drew in a deep breath.

"I'm fine." He said, almost running past her. She whirled around, staring, before moving to follow him. He shook his head violently. "I'm fine." He insisted again, though he knew he was slurring his words slightly, and his strained, harried appearance wasn't helping his case. He could sense her presence, hear her thoughts, as she tried to catch up with him.

"Stop following me." He said sharply. Abruptly, she stopped, halting completely. Her expression turned almost confused, blinking hard, as if she was trying to figure out why she had been following him. She looked almost…like she was being held in place. Realising what he had just done drove him forwards with terror. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Guilt tore him to pieces inside.

He needed to be alone.

Colin = Northern Ireland
Niamh = Ireland

Also, if you couldn't decipher it, Kari's thoughts say:
What's wrong? Is he sick? He's gone pale. Is there anything I can do? What is going on? Is this about the ship? Is he just tired? Or injured? What is going on?