A/N: Adele's song is one-half of the reason why I'm writing this story in the first place. It's bittersweet, initially misleading, and a lullaby all at once. (The other half was researching bird names.) I was supposed to finish this story before the end of October, but NaNoWriMo got in the way.

I hope I succeeded in my quest to humanize the Dark Ace.

STITCHES

( chapter three: turning the deck )

.

This love has dried up and stayed behind
And if I stay, I'll be a lie…

Forgive me, first love.
Forgive me. (Adele)

- - -

And he loved her in a way he didn't quite know how. He grew up - and like the majority of adults who remembered what it was like to leave adolescence and breathe in the real world with their own way, he discovered himself in his writing. He realized himself in his unsaid thoughts.

In the future, several months after he will leave the Storm Hawks and pledged his loyalty to Cyclonia, several months after he left the Storm Hawks and pledged his loyalty to Terra Cyclonia, he would flip through his journal. His guarded heart clenched in something he refused to call pain, and reflected on the little steps that eventually led him here.

His former teammates, the life lessons imparted from Jay, Robin and Ibis - the almost heartbreaking awareness he suffered just thinking of them. The awareness of a young man. The Storm Hawks weren't perfect. They never were.

Ace prided himself on his judgment, both in his person and in others. He was able to discern the core aspect of personalities and work out the reasoning behind actions. Visceral movements, relationships between other people who were friends or otherwise, he thought he knew everyone from a few well-calculated glances.

But for a time, he looked into a mirror and wondered what others saw in him.

He knew he was a naturally competitive individual, and perhaps that resulted from his status as an only child and a foreigner. It was no secret he wanted to improve himself in all aspects of life, especially in school and work. He thought education was crucial; if he had a school with a good name he could go anywhere and progress. He'd get into a good squadron. No, an excellent squadron - and build his reputation from there. He would have networks upon networks of support. His name would whispered upon the lips of every Sky Knight. Maybe he'd get a few medals on the side as a reward of good work from the Sky Council.

To be a Sky Knight, what a dream that would be. But he was a Storm Hawk right now. All his calculations and ambition said his current position made it easier for him to secure his future post. But with the world trapped in a state of craziness, stepped in economic instability and anger everywhere, the title never seemed so far away. It never did before. Everything was supposed to be easy for him.

And once he was a Sky Knight, what else was there to look forward to? The ambition seemed to stop. Would Atmosians accept him once they learned of his background? Just how biased were they to look into his red eyes and label him a traitor? Would they even care?

Yeah, he was a Storm Hawk all right; one with big, unanswered questions that loomed in his mind.

He took his Captain and the crew seriously. They were all responsible adults despite Ibis's sexual promiscuity, Pitta's borderline alcoholism, and Hihi's recurring disappearances. And Robin, he couldn't forget her. She always took the lighter side to life and joked around Jay. As individuals, Ace was convinced they were all screwed up and wanted none of it. As a team, they were all too clean-cut, and far too optimistic. They managed to scrape past trouble without too many injuries, and despite hardship persisted in finding bright gemstones of hope for the land of Atmos. The Storm Hawks gave the people hope. Ace wished someone would do the same for Cyclonia.

By the time the red-eyed fighter started reading newspapers religiously, he also paid more attention to the news broadcasts on the radio instead of tuning in to listen to the Top Twenty. He started to resent all the news anchors on the projector screen and schooled himself away from potential heated arguments. The doctor was very vocal and always had something to say about tonight's hot topic.

It depressed him. Relations between Master Cyclonis and the Sky Council reached an all-time low, and the popularity polls showed a rift in confidence towards the current governing body. Atmosians didn't trust Cyclonians, and while the Cyclonians had been patient for a time, now they fought against other terras. He saw barbed wires everywhere. His parents started writing to him more and asked him to come home. He hadn't been back since he joined the squadron. The boy replied casually to their frantic calls and started to lie.

Ace was doing just fine.

One quiet afternoon when there was nothing to do, Jay decided the team needed needed a break. Ace went up to the empty cockpit to see if there were any calls from home. These days, there was a rule that prohibited free communication without strict regulation from a third party. The doctor put his foot down on the Council's ridiculous fears and rewired the lines so the boy could contact his parents without detection. He replied to their voice messages through the radio communicator and nearby ships wouldn't detect the signal from the Condor.

The carrier pilot used to be in the kitchen but now he was downstairs in the hangar bay with everybody else. It was their midday break and the ruckus that reverberated through the floor from Ibis's warrior cries was all he needed to know they were enjoying playing some basketball. As he passed the large, round table where Jay gave out his plans for the Storm Hawks, he noticed his squadron leader hiding in the shadow of a close corridor.

"Jay?" The man looked downcast with his arms tight around his torso and his distinct red hair obscured by the dim light. He raised his head at the mention of his name.

"Hey." It wasn't much of a greeting.

"Hey. What are you doing there?"

The older man didn't answer right away, but he parted his lips in what might have been a sigh before he slumped against the door behind him. Deciding not to engage unless he was spoken to, the boy tapped the speedometer on the ship's dashboard and made a routine check of all the knobs and dials of the airship without incident. There were no messages for him.

Briefly, he looked out of the windows at the clear, blue sky and wondered if they would get an assignment tonight. If not today, then tomorrow. They were nearing the southern border, in the direction of Hihi's home terra which was somewhere close to Tropica.

"You like it here, Ace?" Jay spoke bluntly. His voice sounded hoarse.

"Yeah. I do."

Again, his superior didn't verbally respond but merely nodded his head before withdrawing back into his private thoughts. The boy got the impression he was supposed to leave, but there was a mystery here, and he wanted to solve it.

"Hey, Jay. I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"How old are you?"

The redhead chuckled softly, the first indication of a better mood. The boy didn't know, but he had been thinking all day since he woke up early this morning. While everybody else, including Robin, were downstairs, he silently left them and made his way to the cockpit where he could brood in solitude until the young Cyclonian arrived.

"I told you once."

"That was months ago."

He was a good kid. Really. If it wasn't for his background, he would have made one hell of a Sky Knight. Jay wondered if the boy knew at all. Maybe he did. There was a smart head on his shoulders, but he remembered how young the newest recruit was. Too young.

This morning he talked to the Sky Knight of the Rex Guardians over the radio, and their conversation wasn't hopeful. His old friend from the Academy was training a new squadron leader for the past four months. When Jay shouted what the hell Montagu was doing with an apprentice, a wave of panic rose so quickly in his chest that he had to fight for his breath just to remain calm.

"He's my nephew's friend. A young kid named Harrier."

"What's he like?" Jay tried to ignore the tone of desperation in his friend's voice.

"Really young, almost like your kid Ace there, but maybe a year or two older. He's a little too strict with the books, but I know he can take over. He'll be working with the team once I leave for my next mission."

Jay remained quiet for some time.

"So, you're actually going to Cyclonia?"

"Yeah. Orders from the Council." The redhead closed his eyes and damned the old men who ran the organization. That assignment was a one-way trip. The change in the Rex Guardian was drastic and fatalistic. It was unlike him and very much like a desperate man.

"Jay?"

"Hey, man."

"I want you to meet Harrier and his crew. You know I'm not going alone, so there's new positions' opening up."

"I understand."

"And Jay?"

"Yes."

"Stay in touch with the Interceptors."

"Sure will."

"And hey- do me one last favour, man."

"What is it, Montagu?"

"You know there's going to be a war. The guys on the news are just bullshitting us." The man on the other line started to get agitated, and his voice got louder in volume until his conversation partner reminded him the rest of the Storm Hawks were still asleep. "My time is over, Jay." The pain in those words hurt. "I've done everything I could for the Council, and they still put her on the blacklist. This is it, man. I'm done."

"Montagu-" The redhead interjected his comrade's soliloquy before he started saying words that he would soon regret; or worse, unhinge his already frazzled brain. But the Rex Guardian was beyond help at this point in time; before he cut the line, he gave the captain one last piece of advice.

"Get married, Jay. It's been nice working with you."

- - -

In the rare silence of the Condor, in the beauty and the solitude of the empty cockpit, Jay felt a piece of himself break away and disintegrate. Like a jigsaw puzzle, made up of hundreds or thousands of different portions – all given and taken away from the people he'd met over the years.

"Jay?"

The redhead blinked; his brows came together as Ace repeated his name to break him out of his reverie. He smiled and asked the boy what he wanted.

"How old are you?"

"Thirty."

Where to go? Atmosia or Cyclonia? Which life was better, which one was worthwhile? How is it possible, in the span of thirty years, for one group of people to hate another?

The number of assignments for the Storm Hawks double-tripled in volume soon the day after Ace found his squadron leader alone on the upper decks. The team hardly visited the other squadrons, many of them were no longer at home, and they had to dock at seaside stations or unpopulated terras. The seasons were changing, it was quickly becoming autumn and flying during consecutive evenings of thunderstorms was too dangerous.

In his red eyes, the precious squadrons of Atmosia were becoming exiles, just like the Storm Hawks – one by one. Captains bought each other drinks in hopes of filtering information, navigators whispered rumours regarding which teams to trust and which ones to be wary of. Former members of the Sky Knight organization had two choices. Either they contacted their ex-mates and declare their loyalty to Atmosia or risk being blacklisted. And once you were blacklisted, it was hard work to get the trust of the Sky Council back.

Those who refused to give their loyalty under pretense of fear weren't arrested. They were usually the ones who left the service for private hire. Their business was legitimate of course, and it was none of the Council's concern to interrogate the motive of their customers. Since no restrictions could be imposed on that sector of the economy, they were discredited instead.

Someone who stayed neutral was obviously not a true Atmosian. Only true Atmosians could understand that the ways of Terra Cyclonia were outdated and dangerous. Master Cyclonis was born into his status, he didn't deserve it. The world was coming to a close – everyone was suffering from inflation. Why would you risk a journey to that hard-boiled piece of blackened rock instead of building a home under the protection and the insurance of Atmos? Cyclonia didn't have Sky Knights. Atmosia did.

Words know how to hurt and the Cyclonian-born Storm Hawk hated it all. As the weeks whipped by he grew bitter, distanced himself from his old schoolmates from the Academy who had their own personal demons to content with. Ibis and Manny stood up for him, not that he couldn't stand up for himself. He wanted to shout more, write less in his journal, and give those stupid newspapers a piece of his angry mind.

What kind of reporters did this land have anyway? Just because graduates of the Academy were excellent fliers didn't make all Cyclonian graduates living examples of Master Cyclonis's breeding program. Bullshit about eugenics. There was no secret cult that revolved around the name and title of 'Master Cyclonis' – there were no sacrificial virgins sent to the lava beasts to ensure a good crystal harvest that season.

He started to think all sentience was overrated. Human beings in general, were stupid.

Ace distanced himself from his team, just as the team started to move away from each other. If he wasn't familiar with their temperaments before life changed, he might have thought it was just another argument, and most of the time it was. But if he took a step back and analyze the bigger picture, he could draw large, looping circles with all the gaps. Those gaps expanded beyond the Storm Hawks and involved the rest of the squadrons - beyond that were the terras.

The Rebel Ducks announced their support of the Sky Council while Terra Glockenheime decided not to renew their Sky Knight squadron. The Rebel Ducks had their own reasons and beliefs. The engineers who worked on Glockenheime said they had to stay neutral. The Timepulse worked for everyone, not just Atmosia.

Sarcasm was easily mistaken for prejudice and even the most well-meaning of hugs could be misinterpreted for something sinister. Loyalty and friendship aboard the Condor became so precious it exceeded the price of commodity and Robin was willing to sell some of her personal belonging if it meant getting the engine crystals they needed. Luckily, they didn't have to.

What was once their weakness – their lack of a terra to protect – became their greatest asset. They were a family regardless of personal vendettas; they chose to work and live together. Although they each remembered a land they once called home, the Storm Hawks were fortunate not to receive the same amount of pressure from the Sky Council to conform. Pitta anticipated the opposite effect, their exile status would put them on the blacklist but the Sky Council must have passed an eye over them.

It didn't matter now, they were safe.

It was hard not to feel disenchanted. Ace had been a member long enough. He was earning his keep; he sent money back to his parents while carefully managing the rest of his savings for the unknown future. He had possessions – a skimmer to call his own. He was an adult now. The boy finally shed his childhood and immersed himself into the uniform of a man.

Just how many people lived in the Atmos? How many uncharted terras? Somewhere, there had to be a better place and a better way to life instead of watching this world tear itself apart as one nation turned away from their neighbour. What everyone needed was order, not the chaos looming above their heads under the guise of a cheery, atmospheric dome. There were deadly storms hidden in that blue cloud cover.

And for the first time, the black-haired youth wanted to do something memorable aside from his personal fantasies of fame and glory. He wanted to do something epic, something with a higher purpose. He didn't want to change history, he wanted to create it.

Robin got a call from one of her other friends. They were all preparing for movie night, a tradition everyone on board enjoyed, when the doctor passed the cockpit and noticed the red flashing signal. Picking up the communicator, he spoke into the mouthpiece and put the caller on hold.

He was already there with the two women. Tonight's film was supposed to be mindless entertainment, as summarized by Ibis, with lots of adventure and archaeological finds and rolling balls of stone. Ace wasn't a movie buff, but judging from everyone else's faces he discerned they were mostly watching it for the main character – well, the leader actor.

For once, the mechanic didn't have a trace of grease on her and her monkey suit wasn't staining the well-worn couch. She was listening intently to the microwave in the kitchen while trying to keep up with Ibis's chattering. The smell of popcorn wafted in from the adjacent room and as soon as the rest of the squadron gathered in the galley minus Manakin, Robin popped up from the couch to grab two large bowls for the snack food.

"What are you reading?" He asked as he followed her into the kitchen and noticed the magazine she laid down on the counter. She pushed back her bangs with the heel of her hand, opened the microwave door, and shook the steaming bag. She smiled.

"The latest issue of Engine Plus. I was looking for some new parts for this old bird. What do you think about replacing the Crystal Converters?"

He held one of the large aluminum bowls ready as she tore open the top of the package and turned it upside-down. They had just eaten dinner less than two hours before, and yet the smell of hot butter made his mouth salivate.

"Manny won't like this," Robin continued as she whirled around and threw another bag of instant popcorn into the machine. "I said I would add spice, but it's just not the same without butter."

"Then add spice," he answered with a sly grin. "He can't argue that you didn't."

She laughed and pushed back the hair from her face again. "Ace, I like your thinking."

He returned to the galley with one aluminum bowl full of fresh popcorn. Immediately, the rest of the team jumped on the scent of hot butter and grabbed handfuls out of the container before he finally reached the couch.

"What's taking Robin so long? The film's about to start." Ibis stated impatiently.

"Easy, there. It's just the previews – they're not important."

"If you're the film company it is. That's where they get their revenue."

Manny entered the galley with a look of urgency on his face. Scanning the room, he stared at Jay just a little bit longer before turning towards the couch – and the empty spot between Ibis and Ace.

"Where is she?" They all knew whom he referred to, and they all pointed towards the kitchen. The doctor stalked over there while the rest of the patient movie-watchers stared at each other with silly looks on their faces. The carrier pilot yawned and rubbed at his eyes while their captain leaned over on his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. Robin appeared with Manny in tow. Without looking at any of them, she answered their unmentioned questions.

"You can start the movie without me, but tell me what happened. Popcorn's on the counter. I put spice. I'll be back."

Ten minutes into the film and already three heads had been taken off. Ace wondered just what kind of movie Ibis like to watch as she tucked her legs under her body and enjoyed the show. It was definitely entertaining, but he was curious how long it took for a phone call. So he leaned over the arm of the couch and muttered his question to the redhead in low tones so he wouldn't disturb everybody else.

The older man shrugged his shoulders and gave such a look that said, "Old friends. They have to catch up."

Thirty minutes. Almost one-third of the film and still the mechanic didn't reappear. While the three men closest to the screen were engrossed in the adventures of the main character and his feisty damsel in distress, the warrior woman and the Sky Knight gave each other uneasy glances as the muscles in their legs tingled in idleness. The woman spoke first.

"Who called, Manny?"

"Not sure. From her terra they said, someone she graduated with." The blonde, stocky man leaned back in his chair more and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm going to check on her." And Ibis left.

Less than five minutes later she returned. With a stern expression on her face, she crept up behind the doctor and tapped him on the shoulder. No words were spoken during this silent exchange, but Ace knew something wasn't right.

They left.

He started to worry; the movie wasn't as exciting anymore. Even the carrier pilot and the poker guy were distracted by the real life commotion and tore their eyes long enough from the screen to question the whereabouts of the rest of the team. It was movie night, it was tradition, and spiced popcorn was already cold.

Ibis returned again, her olive complexion harboured a permanent scowl as she locked eyes with the couch and rummaged through the cushions for something in particular.

"What's wrong?" he jumped up when the woman shooed him off the furniture.

"Robin." She answered hastily as she waved everyone away from her and tore the couch apart. "It wasn't a happy call." Her head snapped up and she made a beeline for the kitchen. The remaining boys stayed in the galley. When Ibis returned they stared at the box of tissues in one hand and the forgotten Engine Plus magazine in the other.

Someone who was not Ace had the courage to ask. "Who is it?"

The reply was strained; tight. "I don't know. They just graduated together."

- - -

The movie forgotten, the popcorn left to go stale – nobody could go to bed without passing the cockpit which currently was off-bounds. They hovered on the bridge, paced back and forth; anywhere where they were out view but within earshot. And yet, they pretended not to hear the mumble of voices coming from the room.

It was courtesy not to look when someone was sad. Even the Storm Hawks, a group of strangers who grew into an adopted family, had the politeness not to walk in on a crying woman. But now that they knew the situation, Ace's stomach twisted in anxiety when he become conscious a part of him wanted to run away. He cursed his keen hearing and his curiousity. He wished the phone call had been delayed for just one day. Tonight was supposed to be fun; they were supposed to immerse their minds in fantasy.

Just one day to forget about work, and life couldn't give them that.

She didn't really know him, the guy – the subject of the phone call - and yet she cried. She hadn't talked to him in over a year, and updates on old acquaintances usually came in the form of gossip with former schoolmates. It didn't matter; he was still someone's son. Someone's lover. Someone's friend.

Ace wondered if he would feel the same way about his own.

Probably not.

He distanced himself too far to become intimate with any of them. In his quest to become the top student, he left them all behind.

The boy looked at the Sky Knight. He looked back. Red eyes met green and a feeling, an almost tangible connection of friendship and camaraderie renewed between them. Words hurt, but they also soothed. So what if they were Atmosian? They were friends. No, closer than that.

Family. They were a family.

Jay's footsteps made more noise on the bridge than he intended to, but the redhead kept walking on. The black-haired youth watched his back as the other man approached the cockpit, and snuck a peek inside the brightly lit room and the three people inside.

The Sky Knight kneeled in front of the woman, and the tilt of his head indicated he said a few words to her. Then Robin's arms came up around his neck, a crumpled tissue clenched between the fingers of her pale hands – and they hugged.

Jay picked her up easily, like a teenager that weighed almost nothing, and carried her towards her room.

Her best friend followed. Her best friend's lover stood up and rubbed his face with both palms. He looked tired in the bright light in comparison to the dimness of the galley where the movie continued playing for no one. Manakin looked angry. Worn. And the doctor said,

"Show's over, nothing to see here."

Logic was more reliable than emotion. Logic could be trusted, but emotions swayed a person's actions.

When was the last time he cried? When was the last time he truly felt the loss of someone? It was almost seven years ago when his grandfather passed away. Yes, that must have been it.

When he graduated from the Academy, he didn't cry either. Didn't feel very sad at all. He had no reason to with no one to celebrate for him. It wasn't productive to show an emotional face in front of professionals, and despite shows of affection between parents and children, he was almost glad his parents weren't present at the ceremony. Their presence would have marked their status as foreigners even more – Cyclonians.

He kept his promise to Ibis. He didn't engage in brawls with former classmates positioned in other squadrons, not that there was much time to. If a mission called for a joint team, then it was done. More calls came in, and every time the radio light came on the carrier pilot reached into the cooler underneath his seat and wondered whether another member of the organization fell. The chances were increasing alarmingly high.

There was an overflow of emotions in this world that Ace decided to join, and yet hardly a peep about his homeland. A mention here and there in the news. His radio conversations with his parents became his main source of information, and even that grew scarce. Atmosian technology was improving. They had to be careful not to get flagged.

"How are you doing?" They asked.

"Fine."

He felt chaos growing in his bones like cancer. Terra Cyclonia suffered as well. They didn't want to go to war, they didn't want to give up their children, but if political and economic strain continued into the New Year it was inevitable.

"Master Cyclonis gave an announcement yesterday."

"And?"

"His wife is going to have a child."

He wrote in his journal more than ever. They were jumbled words; phrases of fragments of conversations, moments of each Storm Hawk members that made him question whether they trusted him or not. Ibis stopped seeing other men, Jay started to become serious. The carrier pilot was drinking more than ever. He suspected someone on the Condor had connections with a Rum Runner or else there Pitta was very adept at stealing and storing booze on the airship.

He had to keep his eyes open.

Where did he belong? If he defined himself as a Storm Hawk, then he followed the Codes of Conduct given by the Sky Knight organization, who were governed by the Sky Council. Therefore, he was Atmosian.

But it would be dishonourable to forget his parents' sacrifice and the final days of his grandfather. He passed through four years of prejudice during his Academy days. Natural talent made him a good student, while motivation made him excel beyond comparison. If something happened to him during one of their missions, would his classmates get concerned? How would they remember him?

Fed up with everything, he gripped his pen and carved the following words into his journal.

I'm proud to be Cyclonian. I'm proud to be who I am.

There were no more letters. No more photographs. Just the rare phone call.

The Condor was flagged down and given a warning for using illegal radio communication. There were conspiracies. All terras, including Cyclonia, were switching from paper to messenger crystals, which were easier to produce and keep track of.

When questioned whom they kept in contact with, Pitta made the mistake of looking down at his feet. That was his death sentence. The patrol officers requested the Sky Knight to take his carrier pilot aside and Jay had to relent. He returned two hours later with a hanged head. He was blacklisted.

The salaries of every squadron increased, almost a dollar higher since the last time their wages changed. While the doctor described it as the "first good fucking idea" since who knows when, all hard-earned earnings went towards better food and artillery. The Sky Knight wasn't the only one who carried a specialized weapon anymore.

Everyone kept quiet when the next assignment arrived. They were going into Cyclonian territory to relieve a small village-like terra from Talon invasion.

The Storm Hawks couldn't look at their youngest member in the eye.

There was a Cyclonian amongst them.

He thought he belonged to no one and that there was no place for him. His childhood dream of living on the Condor became just that – a dream. Regardless of how others treated him, he knew he was an adult - perhaps younger in years and experience, but an adult nonetheless. The transition from boyhood to manhood coincided with the changing of the world, from one of uncertainty to war. No textbook, no instructor could have warned him for this, and even if they did, they wouldn't understand. He was the minority. They wanted to be the victors.

On his break he went down to the kitchen. It was almost midnight and it was his turn to pilot the airship through an otherwise, calm night. Digging his teeth securely into the ball of sticky rice, he climbed up the rungs of the ladder and took a bite once his feet touched the floor of the bridge. He heard voices, whispery ones. The alarm in his chest went off immediately and he hid in an adjacent corridor before the others suspected their privacy was compromised. There was a male voice, ("If things turned out different…") closely followed by a female sigh. ("That won't work on me, Manny.")

Red eyes spied the doctor and the mechanic together; the former with his back leaning against the walls and the latter with her arms hanging by her sides. Jay's words resurfaced ("Old friends. They have to catch up.") and echoed loudly in the space of his mind. For a brief moment, he hated them. The doctor rested his forehead on hers. He smiled. Ace's heartbeat sped up and he felt another layer of subversion rest upon his soul. Here was another secret with many different interpretations.

"I love Ibis."

"I know."

"Our carrier pilot's going to need someone to watch his back. I'll volunteer to go with him." Silence. A beat. He was in the presence of another heart breaking again. "Robin Quelea, bear the children that I can't have."

And then the New Year arrived and with it, snow and a whirlwind marriage. He wasn't the only one who thought the timing was ill-received, but it was done. Initially it was supposed to be formal, with approximately eighty guests who would have been a mixture of family and friends, and Ace would have had the chance to meet them all.

But less than two weeks before the wedding came the war.

She wore white while he wore his best military uniform. Ace looked at the couple, bright and optimistic and just a little bit older. He was happy for them, there were no doubt they were meant to be together. The eighty guests trickled down to a mere fifteen, and they were all members of squadrons. The Storm Hawks had just completed a mission with The Rebel Ducks from Terra Gale, and the Cyclonian was reunited with the pretty black-haired girl from the Academy.

Columbine hardly recognized him.

The newlywed couple hoped to take the Condor for their honeymoon, but with the drastic change of plans it seemed unlikely. The squadron needed to be on alert should the Sky Council hail them for an emergency retaliation on the Talons, and both teams would be hard-pressed if one of their captains were absent.

But luck was with them that day. The Sky Knight of Terra Gale offered to harbour Jay's squadron for the two days of his honeymoon, and promised to hail him over the radios should anything go amiss. It was a risky call, but then again, what wasn't? If they didn't go now, they never would. They still had to enjoy life a little.

Then the honeymoon was over and before the first fatality of the fledgling war was announced, Robin was pregnant. He counted back to the night the child was possibly conceived, and then in his mind, it became a race.

There was Master Cyclonis's child - the next heir to the Cyclonian throne. The last he heard from his parents they told him it was supposed to be a girl. Then there was Jay and Robin's unborn child, gender unknown as of yet, but judging from the hair colour of the parents he knew the baby's hair would be a bright red.

It's a fact the future is held in the hands of the children. Now he just had to decide which child to protect.

Such a shame she had to be the mechanic. As the woman's stomach grew larger, the more the Sky Knight worried. The hisses and the leaks in the engine room made his hair turn gray, and he kept persuading her to get out of there as fast as she could. But it was her job, she protested, she was being careful. Ace took the initiative to stay around her, one part genuine concern and the other part curiosity. He had been thinking about leaving the Storm Hawks for quite some time now, almost a full month, but the idea of going into private hire wasn't so appealing yet.

He would wait until the child grew some more. Maybe Robin would have a miscarriage; maybe she would discover some horrible disease in her womb which meant she had to abort the baby. Either way, Ace wanted to wait.

And he prayed for a little more time.

The baby survived. One of the Storm Hawks did not. Eventually, the auburn-haired woman had to leave the ship due to safety precautions. It was only one child, but the unborn meant so much to the Sky Knight that he ordered his wife to leave the Condor and return home to her mother. They fought. She yelled. Ibis was forbidden from entering her best friend's room until she had cooled down. The Blue Jay had a breakdown.

Missions were too risky, and despite her necessary skills, one well-placed bomb from an attacking ship could mean the loss of his son. Everything was a threat now, and he couldn't risk it. The cockpit was deathly quiet and for the first time, Ace felt genuine danger in the presence of the Sky Knight. In a fit of anguish, the captain yanked back the pilot's seat and kicked at the cooler underneath. Aluminum cans of beer and chilled coolers rolled out on the floor, clinking and clanking everywhere.

The redhead picked one frosted glass up to his face and stared hard at it. Ace held his breath.

Jay slammed his foot down in fury. An aluminum can exploded and the floor smelled of beer.

They lost Hihi. The strange, quiet poker-playing man from the southern quadrants never came back from one of his recon missions. They waited for a week, then a month, but then they had to stop on orders from the Sky Council.

The end of the Storm Hawks grew closer and closer, and the Cyclonian preferred to have the days whiz past him in an angry blur. Master Cyclonis's child was born. His sorceress wife had a vision which proved true – the child was a girl. Robin's child was a boy. A redhead, he heard, just like his father with light eyes that one day, might turn green.

By this time, he hated the warrior woman, Ibis. He refused to openly discuss the bitterness and the anger against her, only that he hated her unyielding belief in the Sky Council. She killed a Cyclonian – she killed a Talon – notwithstanding her pleas of self-defense, he couldn't forgive her.

Ace was alone now. Everybody was. Never had the Storm Hawks been so close together and yet so far apart. With one woman on maternity leave, another missing and presumably dead, morale had reached an all-time low. Their carrier pilot was still on the blacklist, and for the first time, their Sky Knight had to define the boundaries between personal and professional. He wasn't just a leader now. He was a father.

The team hadn't seen Robin since she gave birth. She was still back at home, but there was no doubt the doctor and Ibis would be the godparents. Ace was almost relieved they didn't ask him – and yet he wished they did. It might have altered the future just enough; it just might have saved Jay's life.

And then it came. The betrayal. He wasn't even a Talon yet, and his parents had no idea his actions would help turn the tide in favour of Terra Cyclonia, but it was done. He remembered going into Wasteland territory with the Rex Guardians, recalled the Interceptors had to be hailed back to help another squadron – he could still smell the stink of ash and sulphur in the air as the airship neared the massive black citadel where Master Cyclonis made his empire.

The Storm Hawk stared at the complex. The building rose out of the mountains, like a monolith of black crystal that grew out of the ground. It was ugly, it was beautiful. It was everything he never thought it would be. His heart ached. He wanted to cry…

He was home.

Ibis yelled when the light in his red eyes changed. He didn't say a word and already she knew he turned. She was the first to go. He gutted her in the stomach just like he imagined she did to the unnamed Talon. There was a flash of sorrow for her, just a quick moment of pity and then it was gone. Engine roared all around him, and to his surprise Hihi arrived. He wasn't dead; he was detained by the Talons before the Screaming Queens bailed him out.

It happened quickly. It was a battle – what else was he supposed to say? The rebellion he felt when he yanked the double-bladed sword from his Sky Knight's sheath, the way he held it against his exposed neck? The look of horror in his green eyes?

All gone now. There was nothing left.

The Condor fell from the sky.

He met Master Cyclonis for the first time.

He went back home to his parents. He expected open arms. Instead, he received blank stares. That night, he gathered up his belongings into a single box and moved into the Master's citadel to train as a Talon. He didn't have to worry; he knew he'd rise in the ranks in no time. His parents were Atmosian sympathizers and until they learned the error of their ways, they were estranged.

It was all secondhand news, but two Cyclonian battleships snuck into Atmosian territory and razed a terra to the ground. Supposedly it was the Storm Hawk's adopted home, and the Talons in the galley cheered and hooted in their victory. Ace sat in his seat, drank some water from his cup and tore a piece of bread before he placed it inside his mouth.

They were wrong. The Sky Knight didn't have a terra, he never did. What they just destroyed was Robin's home. Talon commanders reported there were no survivors from the attack and even that piece of information he marked incorrect. He knew that was where the Sky Knight's fledgling family sought sanctuary – and although there was no evidence to support she escaped the raid, he was sure she survived. The mechanic and her son. All that was left of the Storm Hawks.

He never heard from her again. Not in mention, not in passing. As if she disappeared off the face of the planet, the auburn-haired woman took her child and went into refuge. As a Talon, he never sought her out. She was an exile, and as long as she didn't call herself a Storm Hawk he had no business with her and her son.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she was really dead. He never saw the child. And to think, all it had to take to spare her husband's life was to name the boy his godson.

Often he dreamt of a reunion with the woman who was a best friend and an older sister to him. He'd imagine her reaction, wonder what she would say when she had to face the man he had become. If he was bored or simply waiting for one of his Master's orders, he'd lounge about in his personal quarters and postulate her mysterious disappearance. It was more than a year now. He had given her up for dead.

He wasn't the type to hold regrets. Here, in Cyclonia, he learned how to use fear as a tactic instead of agreement. He knew what he had to do to get his subordinates in line. He was a high-ranking officer, but not the Master's champion yet. He could have no hesitations, he couldn't look back. What good did it do? He couldn't change the past.

But what he would miss was the feeling of a family he once had onboard the Condor. The messed-up, functional coordination of seven people who all lived and worked together: the androgynous pilot with a drinking problem, the unusual man that hailed from the south. The warrior woman and her lover.

Jay and his never-ending trust.

Robin and her love.

How much they cared for him. How much they believed in him, and how he repaid that love in turn.

"You'd never leave us, would you?"

No, he admitted. They never would.