I AM FINALLY BACK! I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON THIS CHAPTER! I have been immensely busy recently (and I still am right now, in all honesty), even though this chapter has been almost done for a while now. We are finally getting to the climax of this arc of the story! Yay! \('O')/

RECAP:
- The bounty hunters and pirates have arrived on Nyma, and have started travelling through the mountains to get into Coysash territory. Ivan remained with the ship. Matthias is injured, but not seriously. Something is also going on with Arthur, but he refuses to admit what.
- Lukas is worried about the fact that Tori has recognised him. Also, a fun flashback with a Good Boy™
- All of the bounties of the royals have increased. Keep this in mind, though it won't really come into play until much later.
- The tension in the resistance is reaching a peak.

WARNINGS:
I don't actually remember, in all honesty (^-^) It's been a while since I revisited this chapter. Probably some language and violence like normal.

Please enjoy, and give me feedback! It makes me warm and fuzzy and makes me want to please you guys by writing!

Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma
20th Maarch

Matthew couldn't quite shake the feelings of uncertainty clinging to him. The past few days had been…odd. So far, this month hadn't been busy, then all of a sudden, he'd been swamped with so many duties that he found it difficult to even talk to his friends, much less Yao.

Even his normal duties taking care of the prisoners had been severely restricted. He hadn't personally spoken to the four of them in several days, and it worried him. Those who he did see tending to them now were among Octavia's supporters, and everyone knew what she had intended to do with them originally. It put him on edge, the way that everyone seemed to be asking for favours or help with odd jobs. He could hardly say no, of course. He loved helping everyone. But he felt like some sort of control, which he didn't even know he had, was slipping away from him.

He had tried to talk to his closest friends about it, but Tino was being sent out on more and more convoys, being as valuable a sniper as he was, and today he was being stationed out near the Sulig Mountains with another specialist. Bella had told him that there were rumours she was getting shipped back to Daerna to fight. Vlad was being commissioned to make twice as many explosives as he and his team had previously been making, and since Tino was away so much, Kristian had been saddled with teaching more new recruits. Lukas was as yet mostly unaffected, but he was continuing his training with Nelia, which now took up almost all of his time. He hardly saw any of them anymore.

Even Elizabeta and Kari, who normally could be counted on, also seemed run off their feet.

Yao himself was so caught up in the situation with the spy that Octavia seemed to be doing much of his normal administrative duties. She was quite efficient, but she was no Yao. Unlike him, she slept. If there was an emergency during the night, they had to wake her up, whereas with Yao, all that one had to do was signal him, and he'd be there almost immediately.

Matthew sighed as he looked over his schedule for the day. He'd written down everything he was being asked to do, and winced at the sheer length of the list. Working through it mentally, he smiled slightly. If he was able to keep his conversation with Teerapat brief, he might be able to get back to the supplies depot in time to supply their prisoners with lunch. He had been meaning to speak with them anyway.

Sighing, Matthew gathered up the piece of paper and stashed it in his pocket, and set off across the cracked earth. The shade which the trees provided was very welcome, but the humidity of the day was almost unbearable. He'd already stripped off his jacket and the leather biking gloves he was so fond of, but he was already sweating. He'd have to make sure their prisoners had enough water today; more heatstroke cases was not what they needed right now. Kabeeta was being worked overtime just to deal with them all.

He entered the explosives tent with a definitive air of relief. Despite that most of the people in here worked regularly with extreme heat – making incendiaries and using blowtorches to manipulate metal, as they often did – even they had every possible air conditioning machine at full power. He grinned when he spotted one such machine by the door, which, if he was not mistaken, belonged in the dining room. Evidently, Vlad's sticky-fingered streak was continuing. Said rebel raised an arm and waved him over, grinning in fatigue. Matthew navigated his way around the numerous workbenches stocked with gunpowder and half-completed bombs – careful not to bump any, because who knew which ones were and weren't active – and sat down next to him.

"It's been a while." Vlad commented simply, grinning. Despite his cheery tone, Matthew could see his own vague discomfort reflected back at him. So, he wasn't the only one to notice the strange change in pace. Matthew nodded.

"I was going to stop by sooner, but I've heard you're run off your feet." Vlad was nodding before Matthew had even finished the sentence, and sighed, wiping at his brow with the back of a gloved hand.

"That's an understatement. Octavia wants us to increase production. We've already doubled our combustibles, and tripled our flashbangs." He shook his head. "I'm the only one who's had any reprieve, so I'm holding the fort while everyone else is power-napping." Matthew winced in sympathy. "I don't know why she's so set on it." He continued. "Crazy old hag. She barely even checks on us, anyway. We could all be lazing around and drinking tequila, for all she knows."

Matthew had to laugh at that, especially when he saw the look of longing in Vlad's expression.

"She can't be in so many places at once." He said. Vlad scowled.

"Yao manages to be, most of the time." They lapsed into silence for a moment before Vlad spoke again. "Do you know what's going on with this whole spy thing? It feels like they've made no progress at all. I mean, Dana's still in holding, and Yao's so caught up in it that Octavia's essentially running this place. Rather shittily, too, may I add."

Matthew snorted. "She's not that bad, though most of her policies are horrifying in of themselves." Vlad nodded in agreement. He bit his lip, frowning as he scooped up a small metal shell filled with shrapnel.

"I really don't like this whole situation, Matt. There's something going on." Matthew nodded in agreement, hesitating. It was dangerous enough to talk like this, in such direct opposition to their current leadership, and more dangerous still to do what he was thinking. He remembered one of his last conversations with Yao. Their leader had looked harried and frightened. This whole situation with the spy was getting to him. Matthew understood why. Many of his friends had only joined the resistance after they had moved their base to Nyma, so they didn't understand why some of them were so petrified about the idea of a spy.

But Matthew remembered. The last spy they'd had had been in 4503CC, over 9 years ago now. Back then they'd been stationed on Apollomina, in a forested sort of area. Matthew and Abel, being so much younger than apt fighting age, had been taken with a high-ranking rebel fighter, for a small excursion to Jhobras. She'd needed them in order to maintain her cover as a benevolent noblewoman who took in war orphans. They had only stayed on the planet for about three weeks, and had been called back prematurely by an urgent message. There had been a suspected leak in information, and the rebel official they been stationed with was an expert on technology. Neither he nor Abel had been overly concerned. As boys of just 13 and 15 respectively, they hadn't really believed that it would be anything bad.

Just a few days later, they were woken by a rebel, screaming at them to run and hide. So, they had. He and Abel had huddled with several other young rebels, shaking and fearful, hidden underneath the wooden floorboards of their command tent. He still remembered how those hours had dragged on by, while they sat, listening to the sounds of screaming and people dying. He remembered how they'd all stiffened and forced themselves to be silent and still, even as blood began to run through the floorboards and onto their heads and clothes.

After four hours, the screaming had stopped, but they hadn't dared to emerge. It was a good day after that until they were beckoned out by the sounds of Kabeeta yelling. The scene outside had been beyond twisted. Body upon body upon body, hacked or sliced or shot, blood coating the ground and pooling like water after rain. They'd been led, shaking and sobbing, away, to a small tent hidden by the forest. It was the first time he'd seen Arshad Teymouri up close. He would have given anything to erase the memory of that man's drawn, pale, horrified face. Everyone told him that it was good he wasn't there at the time. He was their leader, and needed to be safe. That hadn't stopped him from shaking. Nor had it stopped him, later, when Matthew had woken in the night to see him clawing at his own forearms in horror. He'd drawn blood, and tore a good deal of skin away, but Matthew hadn't stopped him. Everyone coped differently. Arshad Teymouri had blamed himself.

To top it all off, they had never determined who the spy was exactly. Many of the bodies at Arden had never been identified, and so many other rebels had fled and never returned, that it was impossible to tell who had actually betrayed them. Matthew had heard the name 'Blackbird' repeated with increasing fury over the following months, but even that stopped by late the next year.

Matthew would have said that Yao wanted to prevent another Arden, but Yao, to the best of his knowledge, hadn't even been working closely with the resistance when the massacre happened. He had done a great deal of surveillance in 4502 and 4503, yes, but he had dropped off the grid in late 4503. He hadn't been there, nor had he seen the aftermath. Likely, though, he had heard enough about Arden to prevent something similar. In any case, the idea of a spy had struck fear deep into rebels' hearts ever since.

Matthew realised he had fallen completely silent, and shook himself a little. Vlad was staring at him curiously, and he straightened up a little, sighing. This was dangerous, and stupid to even consider. Vlad was intelligent, he would figure it out sooner or later. But it needed to be done.

"Vlad," he started cautiously, swallowing, "You like the situation here about as much as I do. I'm…I'm honestly worried that something is going to happen. We're more vulnerable to attacks from the Union than we have been in a while, and I think more and more people are starting to realise that. This business with the spy is segregating the whole community." Vlad nodded in agreement, watching him closely.

"That, it is." he murmured, frowning.

"This might sound crazy, or insane, but…Vlad, if anything bad happens, if we get attacked like we did at Arden…would it be crazy of me to ask you to try to look out for Lukas, and Laila?"

Vlad blinked, clearly surprised. "Not crazy. Unexpected, I'll admit." He frowned. "That's an odd request. From what I've seen, they're quite capable on their own." Matthew nodded. Vlad smiled. "Sure. I guess, they are pretty young, aren't they? They don't act it, but they are." Matthew subconsciously latched onto the excuse, nodding.

"Yeah. It's just, well, I don't know. They're Fynknian, and I know that they want to go back to their planet and fight one day. They're good kids, and I don't want them to get hurt." Vlad nodded, though Matthew cursed mentally when he saw that Vlad's eyes had slid slightly out of focus. He was thinking.

"Yeah." He murmured. Matthew swallowed.

"I have to get going," he muttered, standing. Vlad blinked, focussing on him again, before nodding. "Good luck with your bombs." He added as he ducked out the door, already wondering if he had made a serious misstep.

Beneath Mount Kar-ti'hn
Sulig Mountains, Nyma
20th Maarch

Antonio planted his feet on the rock, hands scrambling for purchase. He caught hold of a small ridge and sighed in relief, tightening his grip as he dragged his body over the sharp, ragged surface and gracelessly slid down the other side. His landing sent jolts of pain through his feet, and he winced, moving away as he heard Leon start to scale over. Vash was waiting, arms crossed, watching the cleft as Leon emerged from the top.

The past two days had been gruelling. Antonio had thought that he knew mountains and mountaineering. His small home village on Jhobras had been pretty elevated, and climbing had been a hobby of his. Even back in Reycass, when any job involved scaling a building or clambering up some structure, Antonio was the first to volunteer. But the Sulig Mountains presented a challenge which even he hadn't been able to anticipate. They had been forced to abandon the path they planned on taking late the day before. A series of small landslides had rendered some stretches impassable, and they'd had to change their route to move around it.

But it wasn't easy; the old, seriously dangerous path which they took now involved a great deal of climbing, sliding, crawling and scrambling up and down steep cliff faces. Already they'd had a few incidents in which someone had almost lost their grip and plummeted onto the harsh rocks below, and everyone was on edge.

Their situation had been worsened by Matthias' injuries. Since Berwald was essentially half-carrying him, they were always the last to clear certain stretches. It was becoming quite dangerous for those two, given how many accidents they had almost been involved in. Unfortunately, they had come too far through the mountains for Matthias to return to the ship and Ivan, so their only option was to slow their progress and bring him along.

And he wasn't the only having trouble. Arthur also seemed to be flagging. He'd looked like his odd, almost patchy health was improving a little after he took some time away for air a few days ago, but since then he had slowly started to deteriorate again. He seemed to be very on edge and worried, constantly wringing his hands and glancing around furtively. Arthur had been of the opinion that they should try to move faster, but the effort seemed to be costing him.

Antonio turned as Vash continued towards their next obstacle. Natalya, Francis and Mei had all managed to throw themselves over the rock while he'd been thinking, and he could see Alfred climbing over now too. Vash had created the rule that they could move on as soon as six people were gathered in one place. Rolling his shoulders and wincing as he heard his joints crack, Antonio followed him. Francis fell into step beside him as they enjoyed a rare stretch of level ground. Antonio glanced behind him, frowning as he saw Yael and Louise helping each other over the rock, with Eduard panting behind them. Berwald, Matthias and Arthur were nowhere to be seen.

"Where are the last three?" Antonio asked. Francis glanced back, brow furrowing.

"They weren't too far behind. They'll be fine." As he spoke, Arthur appeared on the rock, face white and drawn. Antonio saw him turn, grab hold of a hand, and haul Matthias up behind him as Berwald climbed up as well. Francis raised an eyebrow at him. "See?" he said, speeding up a little.

Antonio sighed. He knew that Francis was trying to avoid Arthur; they'd had some sort of argument while still onboard the ship, and they'd looked uncomfortable in each other's presence ever since. They usually looked uncomfortable with one another anyway, but there was another layer to it now. Francis seemed worried, try as he might to hide it, and Antonio had caught him staring at Arthur with a distant, disappointed expression more than once. Arthur seemed more tired than ever. For a universally-famed pirate, he wasn't holding up very well. It was strange to Antonio. He'd heard plenty about the heists which Kirkland had performed over the years, and even when the rebels had attacked them, he'd held his own very well. But recently, something had been off. Antonio couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the pale cast of Arthur's skin, and his odd behaviour, felt familiar.

He raised his head as he noted that Vash and Francis had paused. Their next obstacle was a steep, downward slope. It was barred on one side by a sheer rock face, but on the other side was a sharp drop, leading to a ragged valley which looked almost like the inside of a volcano, except more uneven and with jagged peaks inside. They could see low-hanging clouds swirling around the valley below them. It was, in a sense, just as beautiful as it was terrifying. That drop would kill anyone instantly, but at least you'd have a hell of a view. And, for the first time, Antonio could see a stretch of red-brown, beyond the furthest peaks. His spirits soared; they were close to actually getting out of the mountains. Vash consulted his compass, and nodded in approval before stowing it away again. He gestured to them.

"We'll have to be careful along here," he said, "we don't know anything about the stability of these rocks." They all nodded, and the assassin ducked his head slightly to walk under a low rock shelf, and began to move down the slope, keeping his back pressed to the wall. Francis gave Antonio a look which clearly said, 'well here we go' before following him. Antonio was next, and he sucked in a breath, murmuring a brief prayer before following Francis, mimicking their movements as he awkwardly shuffled sideways down the ledge.

It was slow, but Antonio didn't mind, considering that the alternative was more speed and an increased chance of death. Leon, following behind him, staggered briefly, and Antonio threw out an arm to steady him. He was met by murmured thanks, and nodded before continuing. They were higher up than they had wanted to be, and there were a few among their group showing early signs of altitude sickness. Poor Mei had been throwing up last night, and Natalya and Yael had prevented her from potentially falling by tying her to them. He could see her further up the line; she was pale and her eyes were wide, but she seemed to be doing okay.

Turning his head back to the front, Antonio breathed a sigh of relief as he finally stepped off the ledge and onto a larger rock, which was much more level. Francis seemed equally relieved, as did Leon when he stepped off a moment later, though, as to be expected, Vash's expression had hardly changed. He merely looked impatient as he waited for the others to catch up. Antonio caught Francis' gaze, and they both rolled their eyes.

For once, Vash actually waited for everyone to get onto the rock. Arthur looked positively wretched, and Matthias looked rather nauseous, but other than that, everyone was fine. Vash was frowning, staring at the roughly drawn map in his hands, gaze darting from it to the wide passage to their right. He sighed, folding the map and stowing it away.

"This next passage is marked on the map, which means that it's used by the tribes around here." he gave them a pointed look, "They could be potentially hostile, so it would be best if we didn't alert them to the fact that we're here. That means stay quiet." Without another word on the matter he turned, and entered the passageway. Antonio let Francis move in front of him, and stalled for a moment to watch Berwald lift Matthias up onto his back before he turned to follow Francis.

This passage was actually quite light. Since the rocks facing the sun were much shorter and slimmer than the others they'd seen before, the passageway danced with sunlight. Though the heat of the day had been more awful today than it had before, the light was welcome. For once, Antonio could actually see where he was stepping, and didn't have to worry about disrupting a scorpion nest or some other wonderful animal.

He couldn't tell how long they walked for. It could have been 10 minutes or two hours. The path was clearly well-worn by the natives around here, and dangerous though they might be, he couldn't help but be grateful that they could walk normally for once. He was interrupted from his reverie when Francis halted in front of him, and Antonio held up a hand to warn the others behind him. He heard their footsteps still. Vash held up his hand in a gesture which he'd had them all learn back on Rela. His thumb was curled into his palm, and held there by his middle and ring finger. His pinkie was folded over his ring finger, and his pointer finger was extended all the way out. People. Antonio's eyes widened, and he felt himself hold his breath as they heard footsteps. To his surprise, however, Vash didn't seem to be drawing any weapons. Deciding to follow his lead, he drew his hand away from where it had been posed by his gun.

Just a moment later, a woman emerged from the passage ahead of them. She only seemed to be in her early twenties, and looked completely unsurprised to see them standing there. Her frizzy black hair had been pulled back and braided, and she was dressed in a simple outfit; leather boots, brown pants, a white shirt and a vest woven from strips of bleached leather. A fox-skin scarf looped itself around her neck, and she held a wickedly sharp machete in hand. She raised an eyebrow at them, smirking slightly before she lowered her weapon.

"Not jumping to attack me, huh?" she said, voice layered with a thick Nymian accent. "You did your research." She jerked her head to the side. "Follow me."

None of them moved, and the woman grinned wolfishly. "Come now, I don't bite." She crooned. "Unless you want me to, that is." she shot an appreciative glance at Vash as she said it. He scowled in response, and she raised her eyebrows, looking even more delighted.

"We'd rather find our own way, actually." He said. "I'm aware that you likely have far more information on these mountain trails than us," his stare hardened, "but we'd prefer to navigate ourselves."

The woman smiled again.

"I'm sure you can. You look very capable." Cue another sweeping look. "Unfortunately, that's not how things work around here." she raised her arm, and they all gasped and moved away as several archers, glaring at them from behind linen headscarves, appeared from gaps in the rocks. The woman smiled again. "These fine ladies can hit a moving target from more than 200 metres away. They'll have no difficulty skewering you."

Vash scowled, seemingly considering the archers before raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. The woman smiled again.

"Good. Now," she jerked her head again, "follow me."

Matthew wiped the sweat from his forehead, grinning in triumph as he entered the low-ceilinged, stoned building which housed their prisoners. He'd been hard pressed to finish all of his tasks in time, but by some miracle, he'd done it, and volunteered to feed their prisoners. Young Aija had been slated to do it, and though she'd protested feebly, she'd given in and happily accepted the rare break she was being given. It was just lucky for Matthew that it hadn't been one of Octavia's regulars who were feeding them today. Aija didn't really conform to a side, and in any case, seemed more afraid of the prisoners than anything.

It was only slightly cooler inside the prison, and Matthew had to pity their four captives. Most other places had fans or air conditioning at least, but this quartet had to sit and suffer. True to his expectations, all four seemed to have stripped off as many layers as they could, and were lying on the ground, staring almost vacantly. He suppressed his snort at the image and rapped on the bars. They all stirred, sitting up with what seemed to be a great deal of reluctance. Roderich, the dark-haired one, kicked his cousin as he sat up. Gilbert didn't even try to hit his cousin back, instead choosing to grunt incomprehensibly and shut his eyes again. Matthew had to laugh at this, and upon hearing him, the albino opened his eyes, and sat up. There was a definitive blush on his face. Matthew sincerely hoped he wasn't getting heatstroke.

He handed them their lunch, which they accepted happily. Tori looked ready to cry with happiness when she saw that he had acquired iced water for them. They drank it greedily, and Matthew sat down, leaning against the bars as he waited for them to finish eating. Given the speed at which all four of them ate, he didn't have to wait long. He shuffled, readjusting his position when he noted Gilbert staring at him. He'd been forced to ditch more layers of clothing as the day passed. He was only wearing a white t-shirt, three-quarter black pants and his most ragged pair of boots. His shirt was clinging to him because he was sweating so much, and pulled at it a little, feeling self-conscious.

"So, how have you guys been? It's been a while. You're still being treated okay, I hope." Gilbert grinned.

"Ah well, yeah, they've been kind enough, though none of them provide company nearly as lovely as yours." The albino said, winking. Matthew laughed, hoping the low light would hide his blush. He saw Feliks roll his eyes, and forced himself to act a little more professionally. These were prisoners, after all, no matter how fun or charming they were.

"I've been meaning to talk to you all." he hesitated for a moment. He wanted, no, needed to understand this whole crazy situation better, and they were the only ones who could possibly do it. They were all looking at him curiously now. He forced himself to meet their gazes. "About some things I've been hearing, about one of your friends, who apparently looks very similar to me." He was surprised to see their looks of confusion vanish. They all nodded, and Feliks spoke up.

"Yeah, we figured you'd want to know sooner or later." The Pyndaphian looked at him. "What do you know so far? We can build on that, if you want." Matthew nodded, and sighed.

"Well, all I really know is that you all gawked at me the first time you saw me without my mask on, and Elizabeta told me that while she was a prisoner, she saw one of your bounty hunter friends, who apparently looks so similar to me it's scary." He levelled a gaze at them. "So? Can you explain any of that?" Feliks straightened his back a little.

"Do you have a brother?" he inquired. Matthew gave a shuddering sigh, and nodded. Feliks shrugged.

"Well, that's it then. His name is Alfred, he's 20. He's told us that he lost his family in a series of raids in his home district in Rywan, when he was about 9, including an older brother. I'm assuming that you must be that same brother." Matthew watched him, searching for any sign of a lie, turning away when he could not find one.

"I guess that makes sense." He muttered, glaring at the wall across from him. "How did he become a bounty hunter?" Feliks seemed to flinch a little.

"Well, he apparently lost you when he was 9, and then…" the blond hesitated, "he told us that his parents abandoned him when was 11." Matthew barely turned his head. He remembered their parent's many complaints about how expensive the two of them were to feed, clothe and house. Evidently, after he'd been separated from them, they'd realised how much money they could save by dropping a kid.

"And then?" he prompted.

"He said he stayed at an orphanage for a few years. Got kicked out when he turned 15. I'm not entirely sure what happened after that, but we met him when he was about 17 or so, and he's been with us ever since." Matthew nodded, before standing.

"Thanks. That clears quite a few things up, actually." He said, scratching the back of his neck. Feliks bobbed his head to the side awkwardly.

"No problem." Matthew observed them for a moment. The professions they had chosen to follow were less than moral, but they weren't bad people. Really, had they all been rebels rather than criminals, he had no doubt that he probably would have been friends with them. He shot them one last smile, before walking from the prison to rejoin the endless bustle of resistance life.

Alfred had honestly hoped that the less-than-desirable reception they'd received from the girl they'd encountered in the passage was unusual. He'd silently hoped that she was some sort of anomaly or someone whose track record was rife with disobedience. He had hoped that the rest of her people would be level-headed and understanding, that they would just let them go.

They didn't.

To the immense relief of all 13 of them, the tribe they had stumbled upon were not one of the cannibalistic groups that they'd been warned against so severely. But they were hardly reassuring, either. The girl they'd followed, Natividad, seemed more amused by their pleas while they'd been chained up than anything. They had bargained, pleaded and begged, but they'd still ended up with cuffs digging into their wrists, and chains binding their torsos.

The others who had spotted them had exclaimed in delight, and he swore than he'd heard one of them murmur about 'finally having some new playthings'. The very thought made him shudder. All they had wanted to do by coming here was rescue their friends. Apparently capture by hostile mountain tribes was also in order, though.

They stood in a large plateau, bordered on almost all sides by the steep rock cliffs of another sharp peak. There was a space in the rock, about four metres wide, which opened to a harsh drop. Just glancing at their distance from the ground had made Alfred nauseous and fearful. They had all been tied to an interlocked set of wooden posts. They'd tied them just far enough apart that they wouldn't be able to plot an escape without their captors noticing.

Vash had been trying to talk and negotiate with a particularly fierce-looking elderly woman for close to an hour, but she seemed to be dismissing his every suggestion. Leon, frustrated with the situation, had taken to hurling what Alfred assumed was serious verbal abuse in Yanish. Mei looked about ready to join in, though Arthur was trying to stop both of them, making the good point that they would hardly help their case by continuing to shout. The teenager had finally calmed down a little, but was still clearly fuming, sending spiteful looks in the tribespeople's direction. Arthur rolled his eyes at him, and Alfred had to stifle his small laugh at that.

As young as Arthur was, he constantly acted in an almost parental way towards the two of them. Leon and Mei were the smallest and youngest of his crew, and the pirate acted in an almost protective manner. Even from this distance, Alfred could see that Mei seemed to be shuffling as close to Arthur as possible. He didn't blame her. She was only 15, after all, and some of the tribespeople had been leering at her in a suggestive way. Arthur had begun glaring at anyone who so much as glanced at her now. It was quite sweet, honestly. As harsh as he seemed sometimes, he did care about his crew a lot. As the thought crossed his mind, the pirate made eye contact with him. Alfred felt his face heat up, and averted his gaze, instead focussing on the people wandering around the clearing. He glanced at Arthur again. He looked like he was smirking now. He felt his face go even redder.

The woman which Vash was talking to seemed to be getting frustrated, throwing her hands up and growling out something in Nymian. Alfred swallowed. They were hoping that Vash would be able to negotiate with them. If successful, they would hopefully be allowed to continue their journey out of the Sulig Mountains. If not, well, they weren't entirely sure what would happen to them. The woman let out a growl and stepped away from Vash. She spun, obviously looking for someone.

"Natividad!" she yelled. The girl who had brought them here jumped and scurried over. They began conversing furiously in Nymian, making Alfred wish, not for the first time, that he spoke the language. Vash was frowning. He was conversational in Nymian, so who knew how much the blond was actually understanding of the conversation.

"Althuwar" The older woman hissed at her. The younger woman, Natividad, frowned and pulled away a little, sweeping her eyes over them sharply. They continued, lowering their voices a little when they noticed them watching.

"Well how was I supposed to know?" Natividad yelled suddenly. "They didn't say anything, Emely!" the older woman, Emely, by Natividad's admission, sighed and waved her hands dismissively. Looking deeply affronted, the girl scurried off, throwing a sharp look over her shoulder.

Emely didn't attempt to talk to them, instead walking back towards the group of people. An air of nervousness suddenly seemed to surge through the clearing, and muttering broke out. It was almost unsettling; from their distance, the gentle, twisting words of their language formed a sound like a low hiss. Alfred shifted, wincing as he flicked his wrists slightly. They were tied above his head, and the bonds were cutting painfully into his skin. He could tell that all of the blood had probably drained out of them, and he winced just thinking about the awful pins and needles that he was going to have. Sighing, he leant his head back against the wooden posts.

Several more hours passed as they stood there uncomfortably, squirming as much as possible in their bonds. Knowing how highly skilled Vash was, the assassin probably was able to get out of his bonds, but didn't, due to how visible they were.

Their only reprieve for the day came when the sun finally sunk below the mountain ridges to their right. The entire clearing was swathed in darkness, and, for the first time in hours, they were blessedly cool.

But even that wasn't much of an upside. The cold quickly became too much for them to bear, and many of them were shaking where they stood. The tribe had lit several massive braziers in addition to numerous campfires, but none of them were close enough to warm their prisoners. Alfred groaned softly. The lot of them were tired, hungry and thirsty. He could tell that Matthias was in a great deal of pain, his arms being pulled above his head as they were, and Arthur also now looked ready to slump over where he stood. The guy really looked like he needed a good sleep. His mind wandered as he imagined how cute the blond would look while asleep, and he privately hoped that he wasn't blushing too much.

His attention was caught when he saw Vash turning his head toward the opening passage in the sharp cliffs, brow furrowed. Not even a moment later, those closest to the passageway also stood, reaching for weapons. Alfred shook himself a little and straightened up, ignoring the burning in his wrists. The Nymians gathered around the entrance moved away as a woman appeared.

He blinked. It certainly wasn't what he was expecting, for the amount of wariness which seemed to be present among the tribespeople. She was alone, and didn't even seem to be that heavily armed. He exchanged a look with Francis. This night just kept getting weirder and weirder. The woman seemed to be observing the plateau, and her gaze locked onto them. She smirked slightly.

"Ahh, so that is why you insisted on sending a guide to help us through the northern stretch." She spun, facing Emely. "I thought we have made our agreement with you fairly clear."

"We understand the terms perfectly." Emely growled, jabbing a finger at them. "We only arrested them because they were travelling along the Gotev Peak. That is strictly Dolyagor territory." The woman walked closer, frowning at all 13 of them in turn, before shaking her head.

"They aren't ours." She said, facing Emely again. "And in any case, you have no right to arrest us. We agreed that any Mugarobe presence you are free to deal with, but any other issues should be brought up with this region's Suzerain, or us if it so applies." She narrowed her eyes further. "You don't bear the right to unlawfully detain people who are simply travelling through the area."

"It is our territory they are infringing on. Should it not be our responsibility to also dole out any sort of punishment?" Emely retorted, looking very displeased. The woman faced her again.

"Have you even asked them what they are here for?" she asked. Emely scowled.

"No, Colonel Jakolin, I have not, but that is beside the point–" without waiting for her to finish, the woman, Colonel Jakolin, spun on her heel and marched towards them, stopping in front of Francis.

"Why have you been travelling through these mountains, exactly?" she asked, looking at them inquisitively. Francis glanced at Vash, who nodded slowly.

"We're looking for the rebels." He said cautiously. "They have some of our friends held captive."

The Colonel turned slowly, raising an eyebrow at Emely tauntingly. "Not my business, hmm?" she turned back to them. "Well, good for you, I am a member of said rebels. If Emely is kind enough to let you go, I can escort you there." They all exchanged looks, unable to believe their luck. Colonel Jakolin spun around again, once more facing the tribe. "Well? Release them." There was a moment of total silence, before Emely jerked her head at three young men, who hastened towards them and began to remove their bonds. Alfred sighed in relief when the ropes dropped from around his wrists. Jakolin watched until they were all free of the posts, then raised her head a little.

"Okay, Lieutenant. We're fine."

Had Alfred not been looking beyond the wooden posts, he would not have noticed the person entering. He dropped from a higher ledge of stone, landing almost soundlessly. His position was given away only by the loud, startled shriek of a woman he landed next to. She staggered away, clutching her chest, while the other rebel approached, slinging what Alfred could see now was a sniper rifle over his shoulder. Natividad stared at the newcomer, a vicious glare overtaking her features as her shock faded. She started forward as Emely spoke again.

"I should have known that you wouldn't come here alone." The older woman smiled cruelly. "Even you are not brave enough to face us alone." Colonel Jakolin smiled.

"Oh, I just thought it was about time you became acquainted. He's half the reason that the Mugarobe haven't pushed further into the mountains yet." As the Lieutenant came further forward, Alfred saw that he was wearing loose, brown robes not unlike their own. It must have been how he'd blended in with the ledge so well. He was wearing a mask over the lower half of his face, but he shifted his hood just enough for them to catch a glimpse of messy, fair hair and dark brown eyes. Emely's face lost every drop of colour, to the point that she looked pale and drawn despite her dark skin. She nodded, looking shaky.

"Alright." She muttered. "You can have the intruders," she jerked her head towards them, "just go." The Colonel raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, simply nodding by way of a response. She looked at their dirty, ragged band of criminals, and beckoned.

"Come on." She said. "We'll take you back to your friends."

They were slow and cautious moving out of the clearing. Though this rebel and her friend seemed a little more trustworthy, they still weren't willing to place a lot of faith in them. Alfred glanced over his shoulder as they exited the plateau. The tribespeople still looked pale and frightened. He threw a sidelong look at the Lieutenant who had apparently scared them so much. He was male, and much shorter than Alfred himself. But he'd been in the business of criminality for long enough to know that underestimating your opponent could be fatal. He shivered slightly. Clearly, this guy was scary enough to shock an entire group of people into silence.

The woman turned, grinning when she saw their pale, worried faces.

"Don't worry," she said, startling them slightly, "I promise we won't tie you up like they did." She faced the front again, but continued to speak as they shuffled down a sloped passage. "A bail should have been set for your friends. If you can pay it, we'll release them and let you lot vanish as well." Berwald, who had been characteristically silent throughout the whole incident with the Dolyagor tribe, suddenly spoke up.

"How long will it take to get to your base?" he mumbled. The Colonel frowned, squinting as she did a mental calculation.

"We're going on foot, so maybe 3 days or so? I hope you don't mind, but we will insist on blindfolding you when we get close." They all nodded. Alfred shot Berwald an inquisitive look, curious about why he'd chosen to now speak up. His question was answered, however, when he saw the helping hand that Berwald was offering Matthias as they again started clambering over rocks. Their leader was still hurt, and as he was one of their best fighters, it didn't bode well, if any sort of confrontation had to happen. Alfred hunched his shoulders as they followed Colonel Jakolin, hoping that this insane journey of theirs would finally draw to a close.

Octavia gazed up at the night sky, drawing in a tight breath as she rolled the pen in her fingers. She had to decide. To take action, or remain silent? The whole investigation around the spy had been a disaster, and if her theory was correct…well, there was little that any of them could do to delay their own destruction.

All of the clues were there. She had the motivation, the plan, the support…

But she still felt like there was a barrier standing between her and her goal. An insurmountable barrier which would always be in her way.

It wouldn't even be hard for her to do, would it? She'd had support six years ago, and she had a large deal more now. This past week had been putting her through her paces, and she hadn't stumbled or hesitated. She made harder decisions, didn't waste as much time on useless debating.

And a lot of people seemed to agree with what she had to say.

"I don't know." She murmured. Major Zev Batbayaryn stood next to her, and it was their conversation which she had been considering.

"You're still unsure?" he asked, eyes almost imploring. "How many times do I have to tell you? You have–"

"–the support, the numbers, the skill and the potential, yes, you've told me." She finished, biting her lip as she cast her gaze earthward again. "But…I don't know. It's not a minor decision by any means. The implications could be huge…" she trailed off, pressing a hand delicately to her mouth as she considered it.

"Don't you want the Union to pay?" Zev asked, sounding more aggressive now as he leapt to his feet. "Don't you want them to feel what the true fury of the rebellion is?"

She whipped around to face him. "You think I don't?" she snarled. "After what they've taken from me? My parents, my husband, my son, my sister…" she trailed off again, drawing in another deep breath. After the suffering she had endured and escaped on Daerna, how could he think that she didn't hunger for justice?

"…I'm sorry." Zev said. "I didn't mean it like that, I just–" he broke off, dropping eye contact as he scratched the back of his head. "You'd be brilliant, that's all I meant. You could really change things. Please," he moved in front of her now, clasping her shoulders, "let me take care of the communications. I'm good with computers, you know me. Let's do it. Even if we don't succeed, no-one can say that we haven't stood up for what we believe in."

She hesitated again, sighing. "I still don't think this is wise…" Zev's grip tightened.

"Octavia." His gaze was almost too intense and pleading for her to meet. "Do it."

The air hung between them, charged with their collective doubts and fears. But beneath her fear, she could feel it; a level of burning, charged anticipation. She nodded.

"Okay, we'll do it."

He smiled in response, finally releasing her shoulders, nodding in satisfaction. "Okay. Thank you." He turned to go back inside his tent, before glancing back briefly. "This won't go wrong." He said. Octavia levelled a look at him, very much so certain that he was wrong, but she didn't comment. Without another word between the two, she turned away, and again turned to gaze at the sky.