A small male duck, no older than 17, sat alone in a fortified chamber, behind bars that kept him from performing any kind of magic.
The remaining Strike Force members, along with the three government officials and Junip stood in a room down the hallway, watching the lonely duck through video feed.
The colonel was the first to speak up. "You know very well, Ms. Graffies, that performing magic on the base itself is a violation of your probation."
Junip, still smiling, crossed her arms in defiance. "For one, Redferd, you know I don't like my last name. Secondly, you also know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn't do anything to harm someone on this base—I saw an opportunity and I took it."
Colonel Redferd harrumphed, but did not argue with the older mallard.
"What opportunity?" Wildwing asked, his eyes still on the supposed caster.
"We had captured about 11 of the worshippers during the rescue. In typical Old Ways fashion, they remained silent on their interrogations, and even to each other in the cells.
"Their cells prevented them—and me—from using telepathy, but during their transfer to the vehicles that'd take them to the prison, I was able to slip into their minds. Once I knew which one he was, I quickly told one of the officers and stopped his transfer."
"You're failing to mention that you changed out the vests they wore in order to do so," Colonel Redferd reminded her, his tone depicting his anger.
Junip sighed and shrugged. "The vests still stopped them from casting most spells, and allowed me to cast my own without interference. Besides, they were all pretty new to the magic."
"So we're sure it's him?" Duke asked, interrupting before Colonel Redferd could digress the situation further.
"He certainly thinks he's Sprocket," Junip confirmed, returning her gaze to the video feed. "And he's so new to the club, I bet it wouldn't take long to crack him." She turned to Colonel Redferd, her expression alone asking an unasked question.
The Council representative Fonderson spoke up before Colonel Redferd could. "If he's willing, he would be able to reverse the spell without endangering Mr. Flashblade's life?"
Junip nodded. "He's the original caster, so rather than trying to reverse his misfired spell he could just use a Yuntinerrey clause." When the rest of the group stared speechless at her, she elaborated, "It's an undo of a spell that you cast, essentially. But it only works for what you cast, not someone else's."
The Council representatives looked to the colonel. The colonel looked at the feed, then to Junip. "And what if the boy tries to pull a fast one?"
"I was thinking about that, and if we keep him within the cell, I can supervise. I know the incantation well enough to be able to turn back on the cell's barrier field if I hear any deviations." Junip crossed her arms and looked quite proud with herself. She kept her gaze on Colonel Redferd, waiting.
"I'm willing to try," Wildwing offered, though it didn't seem like the government officials gave him much a say in anything as of late.
"Reform will take time," Colonel Redferd reminded.
"How much time we talking here?" Nosedive asked.
"Some worshippers took months to reform," Becker responded, looking directly at Junip.
"I took a while because I'd been in it for years," Junip argued. "This boy here looks like he joined not even a few months ago. He hasn't been taught as well, and I can feel his reluctance in it—remember, I was in his mind a couple hours ago. I can break him, I know I can."
Silence filled the space of time from Junip's words to Colonel Redferd's eventual response: "Then begin the reformation process."
"Yes sir," Junip proclaimed, smiling as she walked towards the door.
"Junip!" Wildwing called. She stopped and turned to look at him. "Thank you."
Junip smiled again, simply nodding before disappearing around the door.
"What is the reformation process, anyway?" Tanya asked, tearing her eyes away from the video feed.
"We used to hypnotize them and use an onslaught of footage to try and reason with them. It was difficult. Now that we have former worshippers working for us, they perform some sort to telepathy link to show the worshipper we mean no harm and to reason with them inside their minds. However they do it, it works well." Fonderson answered as the group made their way out of the surveillance room.
"I want to search for Mallory in the meantime," Wildwing insisted.
Becker sighed. "We will have our reconnaissance team try and trace her whereabouts. Once we have an idea of where she is, we'll get in contact with her and bring her to you. We are not about to let any more of you out of our sight until we're sure we've caught the majority of the worshippers that have a very obvious vendetta against all of you."
Wildwing opened his beak to argue, but Colonel Redferd turned to stop him. "Mr. Flashblade, we will find her. At this point in time, however, you and your team need to be patient. There is nothing more that can be done to fix your memories or to bring McMallard back. Understood?"
Wildwing didn't have time to answer. During the conversation the three officials had walked down the hall, the rest following, and then entered into an elevator alone. Shortly after the colonel had finished his sentence the doors hissed shut, taking the Council members back up to ground level.
"Man, you guys ever miss Earth?" Nosedive asked, walking over to push the elevator call button again. "Dealing with Phil was way easier than this."
The young mallard looked a bit sickly as Wildwing entered the cell, Junip close behind. When he saw Wildwing he quickly averted his gaze, looking almost ashamed.
It'd been two long weeks, but Junip had finally interrupted Grin and Wildwing during a meditation session to let them know that Sprocket was ready.
She had told them that they had to do it quickly, however, as her daily sessions into Sprocket's mind was a lot like winding a clock: in each mind session she "wound" him to be reciprocal to her reasoning, but as the night wore on and the next day dragged, her next session began with him once more hostile and disagreeable, as if his internal clock had wound down and all her reasoning had become less and less logical.
He was getting better each night, but slowly. This particular session had caused a lot of guilt in Sprocket, however, and Junip was convinced she could get him to perform the spell before he changed his mind.
The others were obviously hesitant, but even the Council members trusted Junip's judgment enough to let her try. It was obvious that the old mallard had significantly helped the Council after her reformation.
"Sprocket, are you ready?" Junip asked kindly, almost in a grandmotherly fashion as she shut the cell doors behind her.
The sickly adolescent glanced briefly back up at Junip. "I … I think so." He let his eyes drift to Wildwing again.
Wildwing held the gaze for a few moments, but eventually looked away from the piercing eyes. Silence reigned as the three formed a sort of triangle, with Wildwing and Junip standing and Sprocket sitting on the side of his cot.
Eventually, Sprocket spoke up, directing his gaze back at Wildwing. "The war was too long."
Wildwing tilted his head slightly. "I'm sorry?"
Sprocket shrugged his shoulders, staying seated on his cot with his trunk leaning forward as if he was nauseous. He looked back to the ground. "I wish you would've defeated Dragaunas sooner.
"If you had, I'd still have my parents and sister, and none of us would be here now."
Wildwing was taken aback by his words, but Junip responded before he could: "Sprocket, we talked about this."
"No, I understand," Wildwing answered, causing Sprocket to look back at him with surprise. "We all lost so many. I wish we could've been faster taking him down, or at least getting him off the planet. I'm sorry for your losses."
Junip glanced between the two, but she smiled slightly at Wildwing's true admission. She hadn't meant to, but she could read in his mind that his words were genuine.
Sprocket could, too.
Sprocket did not smile, but looked back at the ground and began chanting.
Wildwing felt a fuzzy feeling inside him, followed by the world beginning to spin. The ground came up fast, though he couldn't figure out why, and even as he heard Junip call his name, the lights faded out.