Hi guys! Another update here, if you don't expect a long wait for these chapters by now then you're living in a dream world and I'm sorry ._. please know I don't do it on purpose I just suck
Anyway, here is another chapter, I hope you enjoy it, I hope it was worth the wait. I love you all for reading it, and I love those who review it even more :)
I don't own storm hawks, if I did there would have been a whole episode dedicated to dark ace in a hospital gown...
OoO.
23 days before Aerrow finds Dark Ace
A deep, black abyss, there was a distant twinkle of light over head, seemingly the only escape route, but tragically out of reach. It was like standing at the base of a steep, narrow tower. The air was bitter, and he was somehow aware of the damp grime that was clinging to the walls.
Encapsulated by darkness, he could see nothing else but his hands, and at first, it was an easy enough sight to cope with. Palms and fingers drenched in thick blood, so fresh and warm, contrasting with the rest of his own chilled body. There was so much of it, too much to contain, most of it falling to the floor in between his fingers.
He knows the blood isn't his, and it's weird, because he doesn't feel triumph like he should, nor does he want to laugh about the misfortune he's caused.
Dark Ace looks down to his feet. And the room somehow lights up, but maintains it's shuddersome vibe. He gets a good eyeful of his victim, a faceless, limp body. The air is suffocating, and he can't stop staring at what he's done. There is a vague misunderstanding as to how he has caused so much damage without his sword.
The corpse's stomach has been ripped open, it's messy, and the innards have spilled out. What dripped from his hands meet a huge pool of blood surrounding the body, and it's running underneath the soles of his shoes. He kneels down, although he doesn't want to, but can't seem to stop himself. By the time he's crouching, the chewed up neck is spotted, and it's unbearable.
His crimson eyes find the carpet of blood again, which is drenching his knees and staining his pants. He peers into it, a reflection fading into view, despite the dark shade. His own grim face is looking back at him, but he's petrified of the sight, and he becomes uncomfortably conscious that he's gasping for breath.
Dark Ace is a zombie.
He tore this person open, and he attacked their throat like some savage beast.
Dark Ace screams, so much that he can feel his vocal chords tearing, but there's no sound, no echo, no matter how hard he tries.
He lay there asleep in his hospital bed, tossing around with exhausting force, thrashing and fisting the sheets, crying out occasionally. It was quite the speculation, many of the patients watched with a mixture of fear and curiousity, as their menacing commander freaked out.
Dark Ace was still trapped in the doorless tower, with this mangled body. He looked back up at that tiny exit in the distance with terrified desperation, but it was still unreachable. He dared to glance back at the person he had devoured. His breath escaped him. There was now a face staring back at him.
Cyclonis was sat in Ravess' usual chair, watching her right hand man's struggle, which had gradually been growing worse and worse. He was drenched in sweat, face twisted with anguish, he was grasping for his sheets, pulling at them as he dealt with his distressing night terror. She frowned at him. What a pathetic sight. She loathed him for acting so weak and helpless, this wasn't the kind of standards she expected from her most elite soldiers.
He looked like he was about to wake up, like he was at the peak of his nightmare, and then as she predicted, he jolted up, but it was quite alarming to hear him call out, "AERROW!"
Now there was just an impatient fury, it was burning like a furnace in her violet eyes, as she watched him recover with heavy breaths, his chest heaving. She sat there, preying on and waiting for this embarrassment of a man to recover.
He was awake now, thank fuck, and he sat there for a moment, totally out of breath, burying his drenched face in his trembling hands. He couldn't wait to get the hell out of this hospital. It was degrading having all of his insubordinates seeing him behave so vulnerably, especially after that night when he collapsed, he had caught people whispering and glimpsing at him ever since. Bastards.
All the more reason to force himself to get over this quick. So he took one last sharp breath, ran his hands through his damp, black hair, then rested his back against the bed, trying with a failing effort to look relaxed. But he had to regain his composure again, after yelping with surprise when he finally spotted his young master, watching him on the seat where Ravess usually parked herself.
It was just like he had imagined; he couldn't even look her in the eye, when he tried, he panicked, as the knowledge of her true intentions flooded him, drowning out his ability to act normal. He tried to remember what he used to be like with her, and he really had to focus to get the words out as stably as possible, "Master Cyclonis. What an honour to have you visit-"
She got to her feet, her sharp features wretched. When she spoke there was no civil introduction, no explanation as to why she looked so angry with him, her voice wicked, "My patience for you has ended, so you are going to answer these questions immediately." That tart tone in her voice made him visibly flinch, he felt like he had lost all control of himself, he found it impossible to keep his confident composure.
"...OK," he swallowed nervously.
"What were you dreaming about Dark Ace?"
He sat there, stunned to silence, she was behaving so viperish towards him. He had to lie. He simply had to lie. The truth would lead to more questions, questions he was not prepared to face. Unfortunately, he had taken too long to answer.
The sound of her hand coming into contact with his face echoed throughout the ward, it came fast and hard. Gasps were heard through the room, a few squeals of frightful surprise, wide eyes staring in horror, the red mark on Dark Ace's face stinging.
"Answer me," that famous demonic growl rumbling in her throat, those two words more life threatening than a blade.
"Don't remember! - Ah, I uh, I don't remember, Master Cyclonis."
"How convenient. Well you just called out the Storm Hawk's name, and you were thrashing around in your sleep. I can only assume you were dreaming about fighting him, and losing. Some people just can't escape reality can they?"
The commander said nothing, too dumb struck and afraid. It didn't occur to him to feel appalled that she would say something so blatant infront of everyone.
"Well then," the young empress continued, "I'll give you an easier question, shall I? Why were you in Terra Xoam's abandoned temple? Unconscious?" Her impatient words slashed at him, there was a dry clump in his throat, and he was suddenly distressed by the alarming speed of his heartbeat. As he opened his mouth to speak, she added, "And if you tell me that you can't remember, Dark Ace, you will regret it."
"But... I can't remember, please forgive me..." he was wallowing in a pool of his own self loathing. But what else could he do? Fuck he had no idea what else he could have done, he had never experienced this with her before, how the hell did other Talons face her wrath with their lame excuses?
"You have to be able to remember some of that day, or have you fallen to a level of completely useless?"
"A crystal!" He tried, desperate for her approval, in dire need of this to be over. "I heard about a really powerful crystal in that temple, and I thought I would go and get it for you." He was trying to keep eye contact, thinking that the slightest twitch in another direction and she would catch him in the lie.
"You did not think to get my permission first?"
"Well I... thought I could surprise you..."
She leaned down closer to him, he could practically feel the heat of her rage radiating off her. "If you seriously think that our mutual relationship is still strong, then I overestimated your intelligence."
There was a moment of silence. He was being forced to look her in those hateful eyes, all of that hate specifically for him, it was unbearable. "I guess I was hoping I could redeem my loyalty to you."
"Were you alone?"
"What?"
"Were you alone Dark Ace, it was a simple enough question."
"Yes," he stammered.
But she slapped him again, hissing the word "Liar!" at him as she did so.
"Please Master, I'm not lying, why would I lie to you?"
There was a sinister glint laced in her violet irises, "I would love to know." She continued, and leaned closer to him until their faces were inches apart, he gulped, and she relished the hold she had over him. She pulled something out of her pocket, and showed it to him, a slip of paper.
"Explain this."
Dark Ace looked at the small, crumpled note, and his eyes widened. It read, "Dark Ace on Terra Xoam, Send help immediately, A friend."
He practically had to choke himself to avoid blurting out Aerrow's name, he would recognise that kid's handwriting any day. As quickly as he remembered that he was in the middle of a serious interrogation, he looked back at Cyclonis and stated as boldly as he could, "I don't know." Right now he was in no fit state to conjure a more excusable answer. Shockingly, his Master did not push him for one. Her face was cold, her eyes unforgiving, and they remained locked with his as she stood up straight and began to walk away.
Before finally taking her focus off him, she said sourly, "You will regret lying to me Dark Ace, I'll make sure of it." And with that she left, shooting Ravess an equally fiendish glance as she made her way past. The archer had arrived early into the questioning, but never dared to draw closer than ear shot.
All the Talons in the ward gave a moment of silence for the scolded commander, who kept himself turned away from them all, refusing to accept their sympathy. His distressed scowl only deepened when he felt Ravess' presence draw closer, he hated that she had seen that, and hated even more that her opinion of him mattered.
The archer held her words for a moment, debating whether she should give him the chance to speak first.
He did speak, and she was not surprised by his words, "Get out of my sight." His harsh response to her approaching him was understandable, however she quietly continued.
"I just thought you would like to know, you've been released, I've brought your clothes..." she placed them on his bed, knowing all too well that trying to consolidate him would only worsen his fervent mood, and it was in nobody's best interest to do that. He did not thank her, and she was not expecting gratitude for her small deed, so she gave him a ginger nod then pulled the curtain around his bed so he could change, then returned to the office.
The mundane routine of getting dressed was a stressful blur. He felt dehumanised by their conversation, because Cyclonis had insulted and scorned him like a useless, disobedient, dog. As he pulled his clothes on, he couldn't help but grieve at the notion that this might be the case.
After he was fully dressed he realised he was wearing the clothes he had worn that day in the temple, albeit any blood stains or tears had been fixed... or maybe the crystal had caused them to vanish.
"Aerrow," he whispered as he recalled their time together vividly. Of course he could remember all that had happened to the two of them; the deaths, the zombies, the bite. But how could he tell anyone? They would all believe that he had been driven to madness. If there was one thing he knew, it's that your situation can always get worse.
He sighed as his mind wandered. Aerrow never seemed to see him as useless, and Dark Ace truly believed that by the end of their journey, the young redhead came to admire, maybe even respect him. He certainly felt the same way.
His mind was currently like a battle ground, as he thought of both teenagers; Aerrow and Cyclonis. Thinking of how they both treat him, their opinions of him, the way they look at him. Running through memories of himself, fighting by both their sides, and considering his feelings for those times.
Regardless of wanting to leap out of the window to avoid the judging eyes and weary whispers, Dark Ace marched out of the hospital ward, eager to pick up the pace, but maintaining his dignity and making sure his strides were nothing but natural.
He was walking through the corridors of Cyclonia once again, the weight of dread he felt for his Queen was making his head ache. The way she looked at him was all he could think of. As he continued on towards his apartment, countless Cyclonians were passing him on his journey, and he noticed something, something he was always aware of, but only now was he starting to find it rather unsettling.
Every single person he passed rapidly averted their eye contact from him. Or they quickened their paces with uneasy faces to hurry past him. Or leapt out of the way so's not to cross him. He watched them all, unable to stop feeling utterly disheartened, but he wasn't entirely sure why he was reacting to it now. It was just a saddening sight, that everyone found him to be such a mean brute. He is, but that's not the point. And it suddenly occurred to him; this behaviour wasn't respect for his rank and superiority, this was just plain fear. He wasn't famous for his power, his reputation was just monstrous, and although he fought to find an argument against it, he couldn't, they were all right to freak out when they saw him.
Now that this infamous reputation had been snatched away, by the one girl who had handed it to him, loneliness it seemed, was left in it's wake. And without his ambition to block the harsh judgements, he felt like he was left with nothing. He wasn't even sure of how to improve his image, he had never been good with people.
He was terrified of the future, and of what Master Cyclonis had in store for him, but he couldn't continue like this. Things could change... couldn't they? He helped save the bloody Atmos, that had to count for something, sure no one knew about it, but it was proof that he could actually do things that were nice and stuff. Aerrow ended up liking him, and Aerrow was the biggest prick of them all, so surely he could get a few others to change their minds about him. But how do you do that when everyone is too scared to even look at you? Yeah... this was a hopeless idea.
Back in the confines of his apartment, Dark Ace had his back to the door, hands on his knees as he tried to control his breath. Everything was happening so quickly. He was still considering fleeing the Terra, but then worrying if it would be wiser to stay, would it really be safer for a traitor out there in the world? Where could he possibly hide? Everyone knew his face and everyone wanted to punch it.
"Maybe I should pack essentials, should a quick escape arise... argh fuck."
What had happened to his world? How could it be so twisted? Cyclonia had fallen into discord and he had no idea how to set it right, if that was even possible at this point.
A sudden rattle at the door startled him and he jumped forward. He straightened himself out, masking his fret with a feeble, confident facade.
"Dark Ace? It's Ravess, will you let me in?"
He was surprised by how eagerly he went for the door, quick to think that she must be the only Cyclonian that doesn't mind being around him, more than that, she had feelings for him. And after her death in the new war, he could not deny that his feelings for her grew rapidly in her absence. Treating Ravess with respect was now very important, if it meant the start of people's opinions changing, and he certainly wouldn't mind things possibly flourishing between himself and the archer.
So with a deep breath he answered the door to a concerned looking Ravess, who courteously asked if she could come in. Trying not to appear too interested, he simply nodded.
"Are you alright?" She asked sheepishly, because it was suspiciously alien for selfish Talons such as themselves to care about the wellbeing of others.
Desperate to put someone's bloody mind at ease, he, trying to be as soft as possible, said, "I'm alright." He wanted to say more, but a lack of practice had sent him tongue tied, how exactly do people converse in matters like this? Saying he was alright was actually a lie, but he couldn't tell her the truth, and he couldn't elaborate ...because he wasn't sure how to.
But she appeared more settled, if not shocked that she had received a decent reply from him, stuttering she answered, "Oh good, good. Believe it or not I am glad..."
"Aren't you supposed to be? Being my nurse?"
A smidge of red had coloured her cheekbones, her fingers were fidgeting with themselves, "Of course! That's actually why I'm here, obviously, making sure you made it to your own door without collapsing again. What the hell are you smiling at?" She could feel herself heating up, because he wasn't smirking with torment, the kind she was used to facing. It was small and almost conspicuous, in the corner of his mouth, without the lines of anger it was like looking at an entirely different man.
But her question had rendered him silent. When alone in a bar, preying on a short skirt, shameless flirting came naturally. However, Ravess was not some bare thigh slut, he sure as hell couldn't treat her like one. So how was he supposed to talk to her, when they were alone in his apartment, not really behaving like two soldiers? Thankfully she continued for him.
"Anyway, nice to see you on your feet and in actual clothes."
He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. The thought of himself sprawled on the floor in that nightgown was not something he needed right now.
"Thanks," he blurted out, trying really hard to keep things on track, "for seeing me everyday I mean..." he scratched the back of his neck, "I would have gone mad in there."
She stood mouth gaped and in awe at his current demeanour, where on Atmos had the violent, arrogant, commander gone? Seriously, she had been talking to him not half an hour ago.
"Well it was my job to so..."
He looked a little flustered himself, "Yes, of course." This whole thing was a disaster and once again he felt like diving out of a window, it would be less painful than what ever this was.
Ravess was intimidated by what her treacherous mind was telling her to do, but as the Dark Ace stood there, looking so human, she simply had to savour the moment. She took silent steps towards him, uncontrollably magnified to this (she was afraid to call it) soft side. It took her a moment to catch his attention again, and when he did their bewildered gazes met and held.
It was against Cyclonia's laws to feel like this, but the two Talons refused to ignore the temptations that were being dangled infront of them. So they stood there, their faces inches apart. Fuck it felt good to be bad.
"Not going to make some cheap joke are you?" He asked, his voice drifting into an alluring husk.
It melted the inner struggle that was trying to convince her to maintain her dignity.
She thought it best to retort with some witty response, keep this little game playing until they were sure that what they were doing was safe and strictly between them. But alas, her body's urges were rushing her, she had no control in the matter. So she stretched up to reach his lips, brushing her own against them, testing the waters. Just for a neverending moment, half expecting him to shove her away. But when she stepped back, he remained still, lips parted.
"Fuck it," he said, then grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, lips clashing, their sudden actions shading their faces feverish. They groaned in each other's mouths, hands exploring each other's bodies. Ravess working to get the leather jacket off, whilst he was tearing that unflattering uniform off her.
Suddenly she gasped, and abruptly stopped altogether. "We can't, it's not the time," she breathed, and quickly parted from him, before she changed her mind.
Dark Ace's eyes were still closed, brows furrowed with frustration, hands dropping back down to his sides with defeat, "Shit, I know, you're right." Another lie, he couldn't see why they had to stop, it's not like they had to brag about it after. In fact, it was pretty unflattering that she could pull away from him with such ease.
"No, you don't know, you haven't got a clue, no one in this place does." She spoke of Cyclonia with a quiver in her voice, her eyes darting around uneasily, as if it were haunted, with someone out there just waiting to strike.
"What do you mean," an alarm going off in his head, all sensual thoughts eradicated.
Ravess shifted around on the spot uncomfortably, there was a terrified look in her eyes, and he pitied her.
"Cyclonis. She's been practicing some disturbing shit while you were playing sleeping beauty". Her voice was hushed, as if the walls themselves could report her doubts and insults back to the empress. "I think she's going to..."
But then, her words trailed off with a light whimper, because her eyes found his again. He looked interested... too interested. She felt like she was going to throw up, as she realised what she had just done. She had let his handsome face distract her, she had forgotten who she was really speaking to; Master Cyclonis' right hand man.
The colour dropped from her face, and she fell silent, wide eyed like a deer in headlights. She realised there was no point in apologising or trying to explain herself, she had said too much. Of all the people she had tried to share her terrified suspicions with.
He looked confused, which heightened when she began to pace stiffly out of his apartment, she couldn't even find words to excuse herself.
The hostile growl in his voice returned, "What? Ravess where are you going? Tell me what she's planning. Ravess!" When he tried to pursue her, it resulted in her fleeing from him as fast as she could, slamming the door in his face, racing down the corridors, praying that he wouldn't chase her.
It was only when Ravess was 100% positive that she was safe from him, did she finally stop and catch her breath. She considered what little options she had, although deep down she already knew what she had to do. Her life depended on it, in more ways than one now. The Dark Ace himself now knew that she was aware, and doubtful, which meant by the end of the day Master Cyclonis would too.
She couldn't chance going back to her apartment for supplies. The risk was too dire. So Ravess strolled as always, with her head held high, and a straight, proud, face. And continued to do so in such a fashion, keeping her composure, up until she was on her skimmer and in the sky, never daring to look back at the doomed, black Terra. Leaving all those poor, unsuspecting bastards to their fate.
Dark Ace was left standing, completed baffled in his living room, feeling, once again, like an absolute failure. He had managed to drive her away. He knew of her feelings for him, and yet he still somehow said something, or did something that evidently frightened her, enough to actually run out of the damn door.
He grimaced, wondering how he always managed to screw up everything like some blundering fool. Why had she acted so afraid of him? He was so pissed off with himself, gritting his teeth as his rage filled up inside, a feeling he knew all too well. Best to get rid of it.
Seconds later he was in front of a wall, pounding his fists into it as hard as he could. Strike after strike. Holding his breath. Breaking the surface. The stain of blood growing larger with every punch. The cracks getting deeper. The skin on his knuckles ripping more and more. Strained grunting through gritted teeth. Hand damp and stinging, knowing he deserves more pain. One last violent thrash to completely exhaust himself.
His wall was cratered with a huge, ugly dent, which was painted with blood. He held himself there, his jagged breath breaking up the silence, eyes squeezed closed, entirely sick of himself.
He thought of something, and it crushed him. He had imagined him, that little brat, Aerrow. Sitting there on his couch, uninvitingly making himself comfortable, it was a short thought, and disappeared as soon as it came.
But, woefully he still turned to the couch, hoping that the Sky Knight would somehow be there. Of course he wasn't, and Dark Ace let out a heartbroken sigh. He then looked up to the vent attached to his ceiling, holding his breath as he tried to listen for movement, silently demanding Aerrow to be in there somewhere, crawling around causing trouble.
Disappointed when he didn't, Dark Ace huffed with a sour face, flexing his fingers as his hand stung. He sank down to the floor, shamefully burying his face in his hands.
"What is wrong with me?" He whispered, hating that his mind was doing this to him, wanting something he couldn't have. It was a job, just a fucking job, with a partnership destined to end when the mission was done. What he said would happen; happened, they went their separate ways, just like they should. But Aerrow had wanted more... and so did he.
He didn't want to think about this, he couldn't, not right now. He searched for something, anything else to focus on. His mind jumped to Ravess, then to tearing off her nurses uniform. He shook his head, didn't want to think about her either. Now thinking of the hospital, how long he was in there for.
Shower! He should shower, apparently he had been in the coma for three weeks, and he didn't like the idea of someone else washing him.
He stripped his shirt and tossed it to the floor, getting back on his feet. He wandered into the bathroom, still troubled, and still trying to distract himself.
He glanced at the bathroom mirror, eyes catching the huge scar across his chest, as he always did. He averted his troubled gaze, but spotted something else, something that wasn't there before, another scar... on his shoulder.
Within those few seconds he was drowning in an unendurable fear. He staggered closer to the mirror, bringing his shoulder into a better view. He was utterly horrified, his legs trembled, failing to hold him up straight. He stared at it with disgust and dread, a deep, red scar. Teeth marks. Exactly where that thing had... From when he had... His zombie bite. His zombie bite was still there.
Dark Ace screamed. Backing away from the sight of himself.
"NO! No God please! Fuck!" Clasping his hand over the grotesque mark, tracing his fingers roughly over it. It was there, it was definitely there, he wasn't imagining this. He was a freak. A monster. An abomination.
His screaming finally ceased when he realised he was on a Terra filled with people. His hands were covering his mouth, forcing himself to stop making noise. Struggling for breath he started coughing. He could feel his heart beating wildly, pounding unnaturally loud like a drum.
Eyes widened, Cyclonis' words came to him, "You said the blood sample you took was a unique mutation, and wouldn't need to be tampered with."
FUCK. Had she meant him!? Was he the mutant!?
He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling like throwing up, feeling like screaming, feeling like crying. Shit. Shit. What the fuck was happening? And then he remembered what Ravess had just said about Cyclonis doing something fucked up. Countless beads of sweat were soaking his face and body.
He didn't want believe any of this, he hated himself, actually hated himself for becoming this. Having to sanely accept this was unbelievable and impossible.
His life had unravelled into something that was completely out of his control, nothing made sense and everything terrified him at an alarming level. Was pain and devastation just going to be his forever? He couldn't imagine anything making this right, it was like the absolute, unreachable outcome. He was falling apart and nothing could recover the pieces. He felt hopeless, and fucked up, and the idea of death was like a dark cloud that had completely engulfed him.
OoO.
Dark Ace had stayed in his bathroom for hours, afraid to stand, afraid to face anyone, he had curled up and coped alone. Trying to secure his sanity, trying to ride the madness out, clinging to rational thought. He had curled up on the floor, going through it all, his heart rate wearing him out, making him feel faint, the chilled floor being his only form of comfort.
Afterwards he knew he needed to find Ravess, and convince her, somehow, that he was on her side, that he needed to know what she knew. He hurried to throw a black shirt on, buttoning it up unevenly and never realising, not even as he walked through the halls, passing soldiers who did notice and looked baffled by his scruffy appearance.
When Ravess had not answered her door, he knocked it down, but she wasn't inside. He left her home feeling a twinge of guilt, because it was obsessively neat and tidy in there, down to the pencils aligned on her desk, and he had wrecked the image by damaging her front door.
Dark Ace searched the entire Terra for her.
What little hope he had left abandoned him when he found that her skimmer was gone, with no missions to fly to. She did seem pretty panicked before, fearful even. All he could do was pray she would return, but if she did know what was going on, and judging by her face, she probably wasn't going to.
Still ignorant to the fact that he looked like some deranged peasant with his scruffy hair, reddened face, loose shirt and no shoes, the Dark Ace made his way down to Cyclonis' crystal vault, trying to behave as nonchalantly as possible.
The crystal vault was one of Cyclonis' treasured places, she valued it so strongly that none of the Sky Knights who had infiltrated the Terra before ever found it.
It had the same structure as the giant Gunstaff's storage room; wall to wall of different, brightly coloured stones, all harnessing great power and abilities. They were all placed carefully in iron boxes, tactfully stood in certain places based on size, strength, and power.
Any crystals that are souly for fueling engines were stored close to the front entrance, and always shipped out and sent to maintenance or engineers. The most basic of crystals were also close to the door for easy access; such as firebolts and what not. Some boxes were smaller and on shelves, and each shelf had a label.
Dark Ace wandered further into the vault, concentrating hard due to his current wavered condition. He had no clue where the crystal he needed was.
During the time it took to look, a few other Cyclonians entered with their own errands. And upon seeing him, pursed their lips tightly, taking quick peeps at their commander wandering around like a lost child in a store. None of them dared stay for too long though, just grabbed what they needed, and left with a burning curiousity for why their superior was acting so weird. No one had gotten over the nightgown collapsing incident yet either.
When he finally found it, he let out a sigh of relief and nervously ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't thinking clearly, just the task itself in mind. So when he picked up one of the messenger crystals, he didn't even consider going to do this privately. All his mind was telling him is that he needed help, and that he needed to do this fast, all else was irrelevant.
He fumbled around with the blasted thing, trying to activate it. It finally glowed, patiently awaiting his message, so he took a deep breath, cringing as he realised what he was about to do.
"Starling," he started with a whisper, and grimaced, all that screaming and whimpering over the bite had wrenched his voice. He had chosen to contact Starling, because while Aerrow would have been perfect, he lived on a ship, that was destined for no specific Terra. And addressing this crystal to "The Condor" was out of the question for obvious reasons.
Starling was his second best chance of actually getting a thoughtful response, the two of them had been a young couple, and despite not ending on good terms, he knew she was still an open minded woman. Most Sky Knights would destroy something sent from a desperate Cyclonian, out of pure spite, whereas the Interceptor would stop and consider the bigger picture.
He was going to send this message to the Terra that her old squadron used to live on, with the gambling hope that she too still lived there. During the earlier times of war it had been like a secret retreat for the Interceptors, so it wasn't well known to any of the Talons, not even the Raptors knew of it's exact location.
"I am a low rank Talon," it really did a number on his pride to say that, especially if she recognised his voice. But if Starling showed this message to someone else and they heard the statement start with "I am Dark Ace," there is no way on the Atmos he would get any pity or help.
"And because of this, I don't have a lot of information on the matter, but I need to inform someone of my concerns, and I can't think of a more trustworthy Sky Knight."
He was stuttering and spewing out words urgently, "I - I'm desperate, I would be killed should anyone know I'm doing this, but... but Cyclonis is planning something, something extremely dangerous, nothing like before, it's a threat to the whole Atmos and we need to prevent it." Right now Dark Ace had no real information on the matter, he wasn't even certain if what he was saying was true, but everything seemed to add up, and he didn't want to take the chance of waiting. For all he knew shit could hit the fan tomorrow, so at least someone would be aware.
He heard footsteps, and accidentally started cursing into the crystal, "Ah fuck, I've got to go, but I'll be in touch, keep this crystal with you for further updates." With that, he made sure the message had been saved, then grabbed another messenger crystal from the shelf, and rushed to shove them in his pants pocket.
Snipe strode in, humming something stupid, and Dark Ace was suddenly aware that he was barefoot. The big oaf was staring back at him, dumb struck and slightly amused by his unruly appearance. It took all of the commander's self control to simply cock an eyebrow and leave like there was nothing wrong.
He returned to his apartment and put both crystals on the kitchen counter. He knocked them together until there was a spark, which meant they were now connected, so when he sent the one with the recorded message to Starling, he could keep transmitting things to her with the spare.
There was an agonising inner debate, nerves and anxiety intensifying. As he told himself that he was a tactless traitor, ultimately people would learn of his treachery, and the consequences would be like hellfire. Cyclonis would not hesitate to make sure he suffered, and she would enjoy every second of the torture.
But then, having already saved the Atmos once, he unfortunately felt a kind of duty to it now. Like it would be a waste to see it suffer after everything he went through. And Aerrow would suffer too, and Dark Ace was kind of feeling responsible for the kid, or some selfless bullshit like that.
OoO.
I hope you enjoyed that chapter, if so please leave a review I would appreciate it as always, I love reading them :)
I'll try and update as soon as possible ~
