Hoth
Lyran Residence
3.2 APC

Though Koril was keeping Elena tightly snuggled against himself as she slept, he was quickly becoming cold in the frigid chamber, but he didn't dare move. She had fallen asleep in his embrace some time ago after they had settled their argument, and he had done his best to keep her comfortable so as to not wake her, since it seemed that she needed the rest. He hadn't seen her so heavily pregnant before; when she had been this far along with Derek, Koril had been in a deep coma, barely clinging to life after the Huxnel virus had nearly destroyed him. His son had been born a few weeks before he had even woken up, so he had completely missed the latter stages of her pregnancy with Derek. Still holding tight to her hand that rested atop their child within her, he lightly kissed the top of her head as he made a silent vow to be with her through the rest of this second pregnancy.

Despite not having heard any sound coming from the rest of the Lyrans' complex since they had all left him and Elena shortly after he arrived, the first person he had seen for a while was Swip, cautiously stepping into the main chamber with a heavy blanket hung over his arm. His expression was hesitant, but Koril nodded to bring him in further, and the Edgepoint gently unfolded and laid the blanket over the two, careful to not rouse Elena.

Appreciating the blanket's warmth, Koril nodded his thanks to Swip as he gave him a tired smile.

"Good to see you, Sir," Swip whispered softly, still standing over them. Koril thought the same of him, matching his quiet volume.

"Thank you for all you've done, Swip. How can I repay you?"

Swip glanced down at Elena briefly as he shook his head. "It was an honor, Sir."

Expecting his reply, Koril nodded his thanks again, and satisfied that they both were comfortable, Swip left as quietly as he had entered, leaving them alone in the room once more.

After all the chaos that had engulfed him for the past seven months, Koril had hardly known a moment's peace. The Manor was mostly empty, save for Rech and Cordira Natiyr, but Koril hardly returned home, anyway, except to sleep briefly, spending the majority of his time engrossed in the investigations going on around Paneau and around the sector. The Royal Security Forces Center was bustling all day long while his guards and investigators sifted through the clues left behind in the spice deaths. They had finally gotten enough of a glimpse of the suspect for him to send out a warrant for her arrest...but something told him they wouldn't be clear of the danger even if she was apprehended...

A subtle yet noticeable boom interrupted his thoughts as it echoed into the room from somewhere else within the complex, but he thought little of it. Since the Lyrans' home was nestled so deep within the mountainside, surely they experienced some kind of geothermal event from the planet's rocky terrain as it lay buried kilometers under the surface's snow and ice. But when he heard it again, and felt it shake the room...he knew something wasn't right.

Elena only stirred briefly against him, having felt the second tremor, but she easily fell back asleep. Expecting another rumble, Koril relaxed a bit, as well, as another never came, though a panicked call from Deilia a moment later put him on full alert.

"Koril!! Elena!!"

As a third, more violent tremor nearly shook them off the couch a second later, Elena woke up instantly and quickly sat up, looking at Koril without any trace of sleepiness in her eyes.

"What's happening!"

Before he could answer, Deilia sprinted into the room, reaching them rapidly with serious concern on her face.

"You have to leave, hurry!!"

Koril stood with Elena, wrapping an arm tightly around her shoulders. "What's going on!"

"Two bombers," Deilia returned quickly as she swiftly stepped over to one of the hallways branching off the main chamber. "They've already taken out one hangar, doesn't look like they know about the others yet. You two take the Driftdance, I'll get everyone else on the Celestia." Anxiously directing them down the hallway, she couldn't keep from shouting. "Go!!"

Though Koril was trying to pull Elena along toward the Driftdance, she refused. "No! I'm not going anywhere without Derek!"

"Your brother Jeric has him," Deilia countered, still ushering them away. "They're all on their way up to the Celestia--"

A nearby powerful explosion rocked the corridor and showered them all with light dust and debris, but destabilized enough, the ceiling began to cave in, dumping large boulders into the hall. Koril forced Elena further down the hallway away from the falling rocks, and though he felt a few hitting him, he kept her just out of their reach. Once they settled, he looked back to find the hall completely sealed by a wall of rock -- and Deilia wasn't with him.

Thinking her crushed under the pile, he stepped towards it in alarm though Elena still held tightly to his arm. "Deilia! Deilia!!"

Somehow he heard her coughing from the other side, though, to his great relief. "Go!" she commanded as loudly as she could. "Get out of here!"

"Are you okay??"

"I'm fine, just go!!"

Another explosion nearly tumbled them both to their feet as they turned to continue down the hall toward the hangar, climbing zigzagging stairs and spiraling corridors. The hangar the Driftdance sat in was probably hidden well enough by overhanging snow that it hadn't yet caught the bombers' attention, and it seemed like they were only attacking the same side of the mountain; as Koril and Elena climbed toward the opposite face, the intensity of the explosions lessened. As they reached the hangar after what felt like an eternity, Koril held his arm back to Elena to keep her behind him as he carefully edged himself around the corner, looking about the hangar to make sure their attackers hadn't landed there. Seeing no one else or any other ships that didn't belong, he grasped Elena's hand again and quickly boarded the transport, stepping into the cockpit to power the ship up as Elena sat beside him and buckled in.

Getting the Driftdance into the air faster than he ever had before, he struggled at the controls as the planet's wintry, blizzard-like weather put extra strain on the engines he hadn't been prepared for. Even though he had modified it for the cold, the smaller transport was less able to tolerate the high winds because of its lighter load, and there was little he could do to compensate in the middle of flight. He finally got a grasp on it, though, as they sped away from the Lyrans' complex, and bringing up the ship's sensors to navigate out of the blizzard, he didn't think he'd see the two bombers already on their tail. At least they weren't attacking the Lyrans' home anymore, and hopefully they wouldn't notice the Celestia leaving from another hangar.

"We can outrun them," Elena observed, looking at the screen, as well. "They're slow." Koril shook his head.

"So are we until we get out of this storm."

Searching the readout, she pointed to a narrow lane ahead. "There, the winds will be calmer in the gorge. We can follow it all the way to the equator which should be clear."

Nodding, he quickly turned the Driftdance toward the gorge that followed the mountain range south, watching nervously as the bombers slowly crept up on them. They hadn't fired on them yet, but he powered up the rear deflectors anyway.

As Elena had said, the wind was almost nonexistent in the narrow, towering gorge, allowing him to coax every ounce of power he could out of the engines, putting more and more distance between them and the bombers. Even though the snow swirled around ferociously above them as he deftly maneuvered through the bends and outcroppings, he couldn't see the bombers behind them on the rear scope. Their heavy, lumbering engines couldn't keep up, and they quickly fell far behind the nimbler, more agile Driftdance. Breathing a sigh of relief, he could only relax briefly; the ship's sensors picked up two new signals--

"Seeker missiles!!"

--and they were closing in fast.

Running a few options through his head, he quickly realized none of them would work. He had nothing to jettison out the back to confuse the missiles, he didn't have any rear turbolaser cannons to take them out, he couldn't force the ship to go any faster...

Recognizing their hopeless situation, too, Elena offered another option that he hadn't even dared to consider.

"Touch the wing to the wall of the gorge," she breathed anxiously, "break some rocks loose from it!"

"No! It'll tear the wing off! I wouldn't be able to keep her stabilized--"

"Koril!!" she looked at him, gripping his arm with desperation. "We can survive a crash; we can't survive an explosion!!"

"No, it's too dangerous!"

"Koril! You have to!!"

The Driftdance's proximity alerts sounded louder and louder as the missiles got closer. 900 meters...500 meters...200 meters...

"Koril!!"

Setting his jaw, he held firmly to the controls as he dove the Driftdance's port wing into an oncoming column, fiercely rocking the cockpit, but he couldn't stop the wild spin that she took without the wing that had broken off. He heard two separate explosions before thunderous crashing noises blasted through the entire ship as she rolled end on end countless times, killing the lights and power within the cabin. The rolling continued for dozens of more turns, deafening and increasing in intensity, until the loudest blast of all instantly stopped the crumpled ship's movement. Extremely disoriented and already struggling to stay conscious, Koril felt something heavy strike him squarely in the chest, then he heard nothing more.

Hoth
Lyran Residence

Kicking away a few rocks that were in her path, Deilia quickly stepped over to Swip's side in a narrow corridor, kneeling down to gently cradling his head in the crook of her arm as she rolled him onto his back. He groaned as she moved him, easing her anxiety somewhat, but his eyes weren't open, and he wasn't moving that she could see. After quickly checking his pulse, she brushed his hair out of his face...and found a jagged laceration at his hairline that was bleeding down the side of his face.

"Swip? Swip, come on, wake up."

As if hearing her commands, he began to open his eyes, albeit slowly, and encouraged by his response, she nodded, trying to catch his gaze.

"That's it. Come on, you're okay," she urged quietly but intensely. "You've just got a little cut on your head. I'll help you, but I need you to get up, okay? We have to get out of here."

Gingerly supporting a limp left arm, Leikam stepped up behind her, looking over Swip with concern. "Hey, buddy, you alright?"

Thankfully, Swip was becoming more lucid with each passing moment, and he nodded to answer Leikam as he began to pull himself up. Deilia eased him into a sitting position then supported him around his back as he continued to recover, watching his eyes to make sure he'd stay conscious. Though he still looked a little dazed, he at least remained steady enough for him to be moved, so she quickly pulled his arm around her shoulders and stood with him. He only swayed briefly, but holding him tightly against herself with an arm around his back, she walked with him the rest of the way to the Celestia where the others were waiting.

Jeric Lyran saw them coming and rushed to Deilia's side as she stepped just beyond the hangar's entrance, taking Swip's weight off her so she could get the ship going.

"Get him inside to one of the rooms," she told Jeric, "and stay with him, keep him awake. Leikam, with me in the cockpit."

Both men nodded in agreement as they climbed the Celestia's ramp and into the ship, and Deilia could only watch Jeric leave with Swip for a few moments before they disappeared down the opposite corridor. Carrying a quiet Derek in her arms, Sirema met her and Leikam with intense worry in her eyes.

"Secure yourself and Derek in a restraint harness, Sirema," Deilia ordered calmly, "at least until we're in space."

But Sirema's fear remained. "Where are we going?"

"I have a safehouse with a medical facility nearby. It's staffed entirely by Paneau that I trust, and everyone will be well protected there."

Deilia had begun to continue toward the cockpit, but Sirema stopped her again. "But what about Elena and Koril? Where are they?"

Though she had a strange, dark, nagging feeling in the back of her mind, Deilia tried to be as reassuring as possible. "Koril is one of the best pilots in the galaxy. I'm sure he got them out safely. We'll contact them when it's clear."

Though still extremely worried, Sirema hesitantly nodded and left with Derek, taking a seat in the rear lounge to strap in for their departure. An odd chill suddenly forced Deilia to shiver briefly, but strange as it was, having gotten accustomed to the cold environment over the months, the feeling subsided as quickly as it came. Leikam must have noticed.

"Ma'am?"

"It's nothing," she shook her head, dismissing his concern. "We need to get off this ice rock."

Agreeing, Leikam followed her to the cockpit, lending one hand to help her power up the ship. It had been some time since she had flown the yacht, but she felt the controls returning to her easily enough.

"Who's attacking us?"

Releasing a quick breath as she eased the Celestia out of the hangar and into the blinding blizzard, she scanned the sensor readout, surprised that it was empty. "They're not anymore."

"Who are they, Deilia?"

Looking sideways at him as he used her first name for only the second time, she sighed. "The spicers. They followed Koril from Paneau." The thought made her angry; his impulsiveness had compromised them all and nearly destroyed the Lyrans' home. Granted, he hadn't bombed the place himself, but he had led them right to it. When they reconvened, she would give him a sound reprimand.

But searching the scanners again, she couldn't find the Driftdance anywhere. She even tried to send a transmission, but got no response. Fighting another chill, she focused on their escape from the harsh weather, reaching the calmness of space minutes later without hearing from Koril or from their attackers.

Paneau Sector
Leveyn Asteroid Field

Having suffered repeated beatings at the massive hands of his Trandoshan friend over the past few hours, Horatio was beginning to lose hope that he would make it off the asteroid alive. He had tried everything - fighting back, playing dead, offering up nonexistent accomplices, tempting Khovissh with a bribe...but nothing was working. They hadn't asked anything of him, nor had they tried to interrogate him. He still had no idea what they knew about him, or rather, what they thought they knew, so he couldn't let anything slip, nor could he work an angle to bargain with them. Completely in the dark, both figuratively and literally, he only had one thing that kept him from completely giving up.

Max.

The boy was surprisingly capable of handling himself, that much was obvious, even at the tender age of seven. Though he had been forced into the criminal lifestyle by his father Soran, at least the intelligent kid was becoming a tough, independent boy his mother would be proud of.

If she ever saw him again.

Recero had only asked Horatio to find Max to see if he was still alive in his father's custody. But if he could only figure out how, he wanted to bring the boy back to her for good. Soran didn't deserve to have his son, ignoring the boy's capabilities; he was so full of potential...

Though it hadn't been long since his last visit, Khovissh returned again, and emboldened by his disdain for Soran, Horatio resorted to taunting his captor to provoke him.

"I'm beginning to think you've got a crush on me or something," he grinned sardonically as best he could with a lip that had been split open repeatedly. Khovissh's only response was a powerful strike across Horatio's numb jaw, but he continued grinning through the pain as he spat out a broken tooth.

"I guess we're past the casual tapcaf stage, how about a romantic dinner?"

Again Khovissh struck him hard, crushing his battered shoulder against the wall behind him where he sat. The agony of his bones breaking stole his breath, but recovering quickly, he laughed weakly, still grinning up at the Trandoshan.

"You...are such a tease."

Khovissh grunted angrily, but apparently finished with him, he left, and Horatio let his head roll forward, trying to fight off returning lightheadedness from one of his previous attacks. When he looked back up, he saw Max standing in front of him again, though he hadn't heard the door open for Khovissh's exit or close after Max stepped in. He briefly wondered if he were hallucinating or dreaming, but the look on Max's face was real...as was the screaming, white-hot pain coming from his shattered shoulder.

Max's expression was both sympathetic and insatiably curious, and the longer he studied Horatio, the more the boy looked just like Recero...

"You're my uncle, aren't you?"

Stunned by the question, Horatio could only stare. How could he have known? Had he asked his father? Had Soran recognized him as he had feared? He was both desperate to and not to answer Max.

"I remember her now," Max continued quietly with Horatio's silence, his gaze drifting off to the side as he longingly dwelled on what few memories of Recero he could grasp. "Her eyes. I remember them because..." Looking back up at Horatio, he met his gaze again. "...because they're just like yours. Like mine."

Still breathless and unable to form a response, Horatio looked down and away, suddenly afraid that Max would share the same fate as he. Soran had kept the boy from Recero this long; what would he do when he discovered that she had sent her twin brother after the boy, and that Max was talking to him?

Still inquisitive as ever, Max asked another delicate question. "You know my name. What's yours?"

Horatio answered reflexively. "Kasimir Vasch."

Perceptive, Max wasn't convinced. "Your real name."

His voice caught in his throat. How could he deny him? His captivating innocence was a welcome respite from the impersonal harshness he had known for months on the asteroid, so it took all the willpower he had left to remain silent, forcing himself to shake his throbbing head.

"Max...you don't want to know me. Not right now. Maybe when you're older...but not now."

Disappointed that he refused to answer, Max sighed sadly and looked to the ground for a few silent moments. Horatio couldn't stand to look at his face, feeling his guilt paining him worse than his shoulder or jaw. Maybe if he were in a better situation, preferably far from Soran's clutches with Max...

Without a word, Max lifted his head and slowly stepped toward him, carefully sitting crosslegged just beside Horatio and facing him with another contemplative expression. He seemed to look over Horatio's visible wounds with worry, but when he met Horatio's gaze again, his curiosity was concerned with something else.

"She's dying, isn't she?"

Again at a loss for words, Horatio furrowed his brows, beginning to think he was somehow being set up. How could he possibly know that, too? Max quickly interpreted his reaction, though, and offered an explanation, shrugging a little.

"The way you talk about her...you lightened the tone in your voice. You care a lot about her, but you're worried about her. You two are close."

Amazed, Horatio let out a short, quick breath. "...are you sure you're not a mind reader, kid?"

Max simply shook his head. "I read people: their faces, their voices, not their minds. What they say, and how they say it...says a lot about the meaning behind it. I can tell if they're lying. I can see it in their expressions. And I see it a lot." Keenly searching Horatio's face, Max continued quietly. "You were the first person who hasn't lied to me in a long time."

"...what about your dad?"

A bit amused, Max gave him a brief laugh. "He lies to me the most." He cast his gaze to the floor as he shrugged again, absentmindedly poking at a hole in his worn out boots. "But he doesn't know that I know. You're the only one who does."

Briefly following a trail of crumbs under his boot back to Horatio's plate of stale, tasteless bread that hadn't been touched, Max looked back up at him with concern. "You haven't eaten anything."

He opened his mouth to begin to tell him he wasn't hungry...but he couldn't. He'd be lying. The bread wouldn't have provided him much nutrition, anyway, and trying to chew it with a possibly broken jaw would have been nothing short of torture. He had thought about breaking it into pieces to swallow smaller portions whole, but he couldn't even tear it in half, only able to scrape off the crumbs that had collected at Max's feet.

At his silence, Max became even more worried. "Uncle--"

He cringed. "Horatio."

Surprised by his own reaction that let his name slip, Horatio looked at Max warily, but the boy just had a small smile of accomplishment on his face. Though it burned with new pain in his shoulder, he laughed weakly, grinning at his nephew who had outsmarted him.

"Just...don't call me 'uncle.' Okay?"

Pleased with himself, Max nodded. "Okay." After a moment, his smile faded, though, returning to his earlier seriousness. "You said she sent you to find me."

His own expression neutralized, Horatio nodded.

"And you did. Now what?"

He sighed heavily, having been wondering the same thing for a while. "I don't know. My plan didn't include getting caught."

Taking only a brief moment to think, Max reached over and began to tinker with the binders on Horatio's wrists, seemingly determined to remove them. Horatio had to grit his teeth while he painfully moved his hands away, reluctantly denying him.

"No, Max... They'll know it was you."

But Max only looked determined. "No, no one knows I'm in here. I snuck in before Khovissh left. I can get you off the base."

"And then what?" he challenged, though he didn't want to. "You'd come with me? What would your father do to find you?"

Realizing he was right, Max sat back, giving up his efforts on the binders as he answered sadly. "He'd do whatever he could think of. And you wouldn't want to be in his way." He picked at the hole in his boot again. "He doesn't actually care about me. I'm just...something he can keep away from her. Something he can have that she can't."

Though whether the fault of his injuries or his guilt, he wasn't sure, but his vertigo returned with a vengeance. He rested his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes to take in a few slow breaths. There was no way he would let Max suffer Soran's wrath for helping one of his captives escape, nor did he want to have yet another crosshair locked on his head for taking the boy with him. But there had to be some way he could still get Max back to Recero without also enraging the spice mogul. How could he, though, when it looked like his original plan was unraveling the longer he stayed in the cell? Max's suggestion was looking much more appealing despite its dangerous drawbacks...

"Horatio?"

With only the strength to roll his head over to look at Max, Horatio wasn't expecting to see his expression so...resolute.

"Tell her I'll be okay," Max said with calm confidence as he stood from the floor at Horatio's side, stepping back from him. "I'm going to get you released...without getting you on my dad's bad side." Giving Horatio a brief smile, Max turned and carefully pried the door open, having kept it from sealing earlier with a small rock wedged in its track, and he silently disappeared into the hall as the door shut behind him.