I'm back!

Did you guys enjoy my lil' cliffhanger (that wasn't really a cliffhanger but whatever let me live and dream)?

I feel bad because this chapter didn't even bust 4000 words, but hey, the one after this is over 7000, so pls forgive me =D

Please tell we what you think!

I'm too tired to write a recap right now. Use your memories my sweets. I know you have them (so sorry, but I have been doing chemistry all day. Sue me)

Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,
23rd Maarch

Matthew strode past the command tent, heart pounding in his chest. He threw a single, vilified look behind him as he did so, irritation surging when he saw the two rebels behind him not react to it. He had been trying to get them to let him go past to talk to Yao for over two hours. He had missed his shift down by the munitions tent, and was late to sift through the latest casualty reports from the front, but he could hardly find it in him to be bothered by either of those facts.

He had missed the confrontation between Octavia and Yao, but he had watched the proud man be hauled towards the prison itself, leg twisted at an unnatural angle, face blank and drawn. Matthew cursed, kicking at the hardened dirt in front of him. He should have predicted this. The hunt for their spy had taken a sinister turn as it had become more and more known about. Octavia's recent surge in administrative duties, and the enhanced presence of her most loyal supporters…he should have realised what she was planning. He'd been foolish and blind, and now Yao was sitting in a cell because of it. Octavia had made sure, at the very least, that Yao's knee joint had been re-located, so he wasn't in constant pain.

The resistance had gone into an effective lockdown. Communications were being monitored very closely, and many regular training divisions had been temporarily put on hold. Octavia had assumed temporary leadership, with others in high positions, like Aelia Gabras and Ehsan Karimi helping her make decisions and try to explain her reasoning behind Yao's imprisonment. Those loyal to Yao had come out in force yesterday. Matthew had been simultaneously crushed and buoyed to see how many still placed their faith in their real leader. If they had only been there to support him when Octavia had had him cornered…

Matthew shook his head. The only positive which had come of this situation was that Dana Milevski had finally been released from prison. The committee overseeing her case had found the evidence against her weak and insubstantial. Given that they had a much more interesting suspect, not many people had bothered maintaining an air of doubt anyway. Dana had been happy to be released for about five minutes, before someone had let slip that Yao was now the primary suspect. The tirade of verbal abuse she had thrown at Octavia and her supporters had quickly made many of them regret releasing her. Matthew couldn't agree with her anger more.

Matthew still remembered what had happened in 4506CC. He had placed his trust in Yao then, and had never regretted it since.

Arshad Teymouri hadn't even been dead for a fortnight when talk of electing a new leader had begun to swim around the masses. Matthew had been 16, and luckily for him, within the age for voting in the resistance. As was customary, any officer holding a high position, as well as anyone who was closely related or acquainted with the former leader, had gathered in an electoral tribunal. Over the course of about four hours, those inside had discussed the circumstances around Arshad's death, and spoke about the election of a new leader.

The one thing which Matthew had actually been permitted to know at the time was that Arshad had left no indication of who he wanted to succeed him. Normally, that was what a leader did. The leader before Arshad, whose name Matthew believed had been Romeska Vance, had recommended Arshad personally. No-one at the time had argued, and so Arshad had been elected. But Teymouri, according to those who knew him best, evaded tradition constantly. He had advised them to pick a new leader on their own. As Raneem had once deigned to explain to him, prospective leaders had then been recommended by their closest friends or supporters. They had been nearing the end of the meeting when Yaretzi Chapula, reportedly without preamble or warning, had stood and declared that she thought Yao Wang would be a good fit.

Back then…Yao had been different. In Matthew's opinion, it had been the past six years of acting as a listener, counsellor, teacher and paternal figure which had warmed Yao's disposition and attitude. At the time, he had been very different. Matthew had heard of him when the election had come about, but what he remembered hearing had not been very comforting. Six years ago, Yao had only held the position of Lieutenant, and had been permitted in that meeting because he was close friends with Arshad. He had been, to put it simply, cold.

Matthew had seen Yao, back then, as having been like a glass bottle. The way people described him – using only the terms 'before' and 'after' to explain whatever transformation had taken place in between – had helped Matthew think of the analogy. 'Before', Yao was smooth, calm and kind and gentle. He was transparent and didn't lie. He was undamaged, like the surface of a glass bottle. 'After', he was like a bottle which had been broken and put together all wrong – he was sharp, composed of jagged angles. He was dangerous and unapproachable, and more likely to hurt you than help you.

The only thing which had come to mind when Yao's name was mentioned back then was a single word – ruthlessness. Kabeeta had referred to a whole other creature when explaining Yao to Matthew one day while he helped her in the infirmary. She had spoken of someone soft-spoken and kind. Someone who had never batted an eye at the awful treatment they received based on their race – someone who, rather than be bitter after getting barred from official meetings, as Yao was, had instead thrown their energy into helping where they could. He had been a man so beloved by the war refugees and injured children that he helped that he had become known as 'Uncle Yao' to many of them. When Matthew had expressed disbelief at this, Kari – then 18 and possessing seemingly infinite wisdom – had snorted at him and nodded.

"It might seem hard to believe," she had said to him, "but yes, that's exactly what he was like."

Yao was ruthless – that was how everyone had known him. He could look on scenes of carnage without so much as a flinch. He could kill without batting an eye. The most painful of injuries garnered barely a wince from Yao Wang. That was what everyone had said. So, when it had become known that he was officially a candidate, Matthew had been more than a little sceptical.

"He seems kind of scary, though." He remembered whispering to Abel one night as they had been talking about the election. His tall friend had lolled his head in his direction, and nodded a little.

"Yeah, he does. But he would be really good, I think." Abel had muttered. Matthew had sat up then.

"Why do you think so?" he had asked. Abel had shrugged.

"Well, Arshad only died because he was trying to find his sister, right? I was just thinking…well, Yao doesn't have a family, does he? He wouldn't get distracted by stuff like that." Matthew had shrugged, unable to dispute his friend's good point, and the pair had gone to sleep.

Matthew really should have left it at that and just chosen another candidate, but Yao had fascinated him. He had thought that there was no way someone like that could be completely cold and hard. He had sought out any sign of kindness or warmth. His investigation had resulted in him accidentally running into Yao several times – literally in one case. Finally, though, the day before their ballots had to be submitted, he had found the gap.

A few months previous to the election, a mission to Beldent, a besieged rebel outpost on Rywan, had gone horribly wrong. Helena Papadopoulos, holding the high position that she did, had been ordered by Arshad Teymouri to try and liberate the outpost. Yao had been one of the fighters selected to go along as well. It had been intended to be a brief mission, over quickly, with everyone intended to return home safely. But, it hadn't gone that way. There had been far more Union personnel at the base than had been anticipated, and, as the crew sent to help had discovered too late, the remainders of their allies inside had been massacred. The group of twenty had been almost completely decimated. Yao, as well as two others, had been the only ones to make it back. Helena, one of the resistance's best fighters at the time, had been killed inside Beldent. As Matthew had managed to wrangle out of one of the other survivors, Yao, upon hearing of Helena's death, had rushed back inside the base, swiftly retrieved her body – for which he had suffered two bullets to the gut – and made it back to their ship to escape.

The significance had eluded Matthew, until the woman had explained that, on Daerna, it was an incredibly important custom for the dead to be buried. The Daernic royal family had long associated with earth, just like the Fynknians associated with water, and the Syhhvanians associated with fire. It was a tradition which dated back over 7000 years. Helena had been Octavia's older sister, and Yao had brought back the woman's body to ensure that her younger sibling had something to bury.

Matthew remembered the shock he had felt at the time. The cold, sharp Lieutenant…had risked his life in order to respect the traditions of a planet and culture to which he did not belong and had never even visited or experienced. Later that night, Matthew had returned to his cramped room, pulled his ballot out from his desk, definitively selected Yao, and dropped it off the next morning, without so much as a doubt in his mind that he had made the right decision.

Yao had won the election by a landslide, and had devoted every ounce of his being to leading their movement ever since. The thought of him being condemned as a traitor made Matthew feel sick. He shook his head. He personally disagreed with many of Octavia's ideas and decisions. He feared what was going to happen, now that she was the one in charge.

Matthew went still as he realised the one oversight he had made. The one major thing he had feared from Octavia. The reason why he had feared the idea of her overpowering Yao. The thing which he had somehow forgotten in the midst of yesterday's madness.

She had wanted to kill their prisoners.

Gafadari Grasslands,
Coysashi Territory, Nyma,
23rd Maarch

Tino ran his hand along the top of the soft grasses as he walked, glancing behind him briefly at the group of travellers which lagged far behind. They still had a good day's worth of travel left, but their energy already seemed spent. Tino found it amusing. They were all bounty hunters and pirates. He would have thought that they would have something resembling stamina, but it seemed that their ability to walk long-distance was severely lacking. Too used to travel by ship, he thought, smirking to himself under his mask.

Ines had insisted that he wear the biker mask, as well as his goggles, to hide his face from their new companions. It was for quite a simple reason, one which Tino hadn't even considered, the night they confronted the Dolyagor.

Tino had recently earned the honour of entering the Union's top ten most wanted. His skill on the field while working for the resistance had not gone unnoticed. He had earned himself a substantial bounty, too – 3 billion marks. He had joked with Ines that he might soon give the Free Court royals a run for their money, to which she had responded with a simple eye-roll and a shake of her head. For all his light-hearted banter about the subject, the idea did worry him.

He had become a familiar sight around the resistance, and on Nyma in general, so it was rare that people actually reacted to him. The Dolyagor had been a rare exception. Really, though, he should have expected such a reaction. He never kept track of how many people he had killed – it felt wrong, like he was displaying it like a trophy – but he had caved into curiosity and checked his profile on the Index. According to the Union, he had a reported 2,058 kills to his name. The very number had made him feel strange. On the one hand, it felt good to know that he scared them, at least a little bit, but on the other, he felt a small burst of shame.

Tino was now the deadliest human sniper in intergalactic war history. He didn't know if he was allowed to feel pride at that.

In any case, his picture was now displayed garishly around the Union – people knew his face. As the bounty hunters and pirates which they were escorting were likely from within the Union – Tino thought he had detected a Reycausian accent or two – they would recognise him if they saw his face, hence his current disguise.

Tino sighed. They hadn't heard much from headquarters since they'd gotten out here, and he knew that Yao would be happy to get rid of their other four prisoners, though he and Ines had failed to reach their goal of the Hriskat Outpost in the mountains. He had spent more time than he should have studying one of the bounty hunters. He had heard the story from Matthew already, but the resemblance between the two really was remarkable. And to think...they weren't even twins.

Tino glanced back at their entourage again. One of them – a tall blond – had been breathing heavily and stumbling along since they came across them. He was evidently hurt, but was yet to bring up the subject. Another one of them – one of the pirates – was also lagging, though he wasn't visibly injured. His skin had taken on a tone that was more and more worrying over the past day, and though Tino was keeping his distance, like the Colonel had told him to, his humanitarian streak was showing through, and he couldn't help but feel concerned. The guy was obviously sick. Luckily, two of the other pirates – a girl and a boy, both of them Yanish – had been helping him along, and hauling him up with their arms if he ever stumbled. Today, however, they had been holding him up since early morning. His condition, whatever it was, was quickly making his strength deteriorate. But the man never asked for them to rest, so they didn't.

He bit his lip. He was yet to speak to any of them, but they seemed like an alright group of people. He heard a few of them joking around earlier, and Matthew's doppelganger seemed to enjoy complaining about his sore feet immensely. They certainly provided amusement. But nonetheless, they were criminals, only here to trade their friends for money. Tino glanced downward at the small navigation device he had in his hands. They would need to blindfold the lot of them in a few hours, to ensure that they didn't become too familiarised with where their base was.

He glanced back at the group. Colonel Jakolin was bringing up the rear of the group. She saw him looking and threw him a thumbs-up, accompanied by a lazy grin. Tino rolled his eyes under the mask.

Only a day to go.

Kari was relieved beyond measure when she spotted Nelia and Lukas walking back from the training grounds, talking together intently. Nothing in the past 24 hours had made sense, and it felt good to see him again. He spotted her and smiled slightly, bidding farewell to Nelia before rushing over to her.

"Hey." He said. She grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. She was longing to just hug him, but as many rebels knew, she was normally about as tactile as a cactus, and it would be noticed if she suddenly got interested in hugging people.

"How was training?" she asked as they turned and started to walk back towards the dining hall, where dinner was starting to be served. He shrugged.

"Well, now that I can relocate my joints, it's a lot less painful." He sent her a meaningful look. "Nelia seemed a bit distracted, though." Kari raised an eyebrow.

"By?" Lukas rolled his eyes.

"The whole thing with Yao, of course. Everyone's distracted by it." Kari hummed.

"Did she seem…happy about it?" she asked cautiously. She had been trying to determine who among their friends could be counted on to defy Octavia if necessary, and it would be endlessly helpful to have a fighter like Nelia on their side.

"She seemed pretty unsettled, actually." Lukas responded simply, though Kari could see in his eyes what he was saying. She silently cheered. Another one on their team, then. Lukas had been one of the first people she had gone to talk to after Yao was imprisoned. They were both firmly on Yao's side, of course, and though neither of them would act against Octavia herself, they were both willing to act against her policies, if need be.

Kari's train of thought about Nelia was thrown off by Vlad suddenly materialising in front of her. She blinked in surprise. The normally-chipper bomber looked drawn and thoughtful, and was wringing his hands nervously. Before she could even ask what was going on, he spoke.

"Can I talk to you, Kari?" he shot a sidelong look at Lukas. "Alone? If you don't mind."

Still slightly surprised, Kari made to turn to him, but Lukas shrugged, raising a hand in farewell as he turned and traipsed away. She turned back to Vlad. "What's going on?"

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I have not been having a good evening." Kari raised an eyebrow.

"Elaborate. Now."

Vlad raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I was planning on it." He dropped his arms, wringing his hands together once more. "You just had the pleasure of missing a rather explosive argument." Kari frowned, but gestured for him to go on.

"Well, it was essentially an argument between Ismeta and Kristian, actually." Kari closed her eyes, and groaned softly. She could guess what had happened. "Ismeta went off at us because we thought Octavia was insane for having imprisoned Yao. She's on Octavia's side because it was Yao that ordered for Dana to be arrested, basically." He shook his head. "It got heated, fast. Kristian and Ismeta ended up full on screaming at one another about why they were right and the other was wrong. Anyway," Vlad started fiddling with his hair again, "Kristian let slip that we're dating." Kari groaned in sympathy, putting her hand on Vlad's arm.

"Vlad…" she trailed off.

"Ismeta hates me now." He said, looking weary. Kari looked up.

"She doesn't hate you, Vlad." He shook his head at her statement.

"Yes she does. Do you know what she said to me? She looked at me and asked, 'Is that true, Vlad?' I kinda just told her that it was, and she said 'I can't believe you've done this, even when you know how I feel. Don't come near me again', followed shortly by a lovely 'I hate you', when I tried to explain myself." Kari bit her lip.

"God, Vlad, I'm sorry." She said. He sighed.

"I mean, most of the others are on my side, so that's something." He mumbled. "Kristian just told me to ignore her, though. He says she's the one in the wrong." Kari nodded.

"Well, he's right. She is the one at fault here. She didn't sign a fucking contract which gives her and her alone claim to Kristian. Besides, he's never shown a romantic interest in her, anyway. From day one it's you he's been falling for." Vlad scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, I guess so." He muttered, still looking despondent. "I don't regret that Kristian stood up to her, though. I mean, if you heard the sort of shit she was spouting about Yao, you'd have been furious too." Kari nodded.

"Well, you can spend your time with me then," she said, looping her arm through Vlad's, "because I am not as immature as Ismeta, and I wholeheartedly agree that Yao is in the right." Vlad grinned weakly. She continued, "And Lukas does too, so you aren't strapped for companionship." But her last comment made something in Vlad's face shift.

"You guys have become pretty good friends, haven't you?" he said. "You normally don't take to new recruits so quickly." Kari felt a chill run down her spine.

"Well, we're really similar, I guess that's what it is." Vlad nodded, still looking a little distant.

"How old is he, again? Like, 18, right?"

Kari nodded. "Yeah, 18." Vlad looked pensive.

"When's his birthday?" Kari felt herself stiffen slightly at the question.

"I'm not sure," she lied, "I haven't asked him." Vlad was looking away now.

"I'm pretty sure it's mid-year." He commented absently. She nodded, simply because she had no other way to respond to the statement.

"Maybe, yeah." She said.

"It's kind of funny," Vlad murmured, "I mean, he's from Oslaholm, but he fits in so well with rural life." Kari bumped him with her elbow.

"Not all city folk are incapable of adapting." She said. Suddenly, she stiffened, as his whole statement ran through her head again. "How do you know he's from Oslaholm?"

Vlad didn't respond, and when she looked at him, he simply squeezed her arm briefly before letting go. "I'm not stupid, Kari." He said simply. She became aware that she was staring at him, blood thundering through her veins. He met her gaze, and winked. "I won't say anything. He's a good kid."

And, without another word on the matter, he turned on his heel and began walking in the other direction.