So, yep, chapter two. More action. Have fun!

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Gyro cleaned a glass, giving the impression of absentmindedness as he swiped away with his cloth. The air was thick with smoke and warm yellow light and the heavy drone of conversation. Weaver balanced a platter on one hand; it was overloaded with plates and glasses. She caught the sidewards glance that Gyro shot to the heavily swathed figure in the corner. Saw the emerald wink in return. So, Starling could manage a sense of humour.

There was the thick growl of sky-rides in the yard. More Talons? The tavern was crowded as it was. Then the atmosphere changed. The air froze; voices stumbled and stopped. The doorway framed two figures against the darkness. Weaver did not recognize them, but they wore Cyclonian colours and held themselves with an air of superiority. She risked a glance at Starling, and then decided it was better if she made herself inconspicuous. It was never wise to stop and stare at anyone across a tavern.

The woman had magenta hair and a fierce, golden stare. At her shoulder and barely fitting in the door way was a hulk of a man, with a hooked nose and dark hair. A few Talons scrambled towards them, throwing cautious salutes.

"Commander Ravess, Commander Snipe! Is there a problem?"

The woman- Commander Ravess- sneered, and placed a hand on her hip. "Sit down, man. If there was a problem you would certainly know about it. We," she flicked her other hand languidly over her shoulder, at Commander Snipe, "have merely come to enjoy a drink with the...troops." The last word echoed with distaste. Her tone was heavy with scorn. The Talons didn't buy it, and Weaver didn't buy it, but Ravess didn't seem one to question.

The pair glided into the room. Conversation stirred again, but it did not flow so freely; fearful glances were shot at the two Commanders as they settled at an empty table. So much, then, for mingling. But they were close to Starling. Very close. Weaver watched Ravess, as the woman lounged over a wooden stool. She gave the impression of nonchalance, except for her yellow eyes. They scanned the room, flicking rapidly across the face of every drinker. Settled on Weaver's own face. The girl caught the hiccup of tension in her throat. The platter was discarded onto the bar; a notepad whipped from her belt, a pencil from behind her ear. She was at the pair's table in moments.

Snipe's grin, wide, sharp, aimless, unsettled her. But not as much as the tiny, scornful smile at the corner of Ravess' mouth.

"Will you be having drinks tonight, Commander? I can offer you an Officer's discount?" Felt the hair prickle on her neck. Ravess shifted slightly. Weaver saw her eyes flicker. To the crystal blade in her hand. Pressed against Weavers side.

"There is a Sky Knight here, girl," hissed Ravess, quietly. "Shall you tell me where he is, or shall I force him to come rescue you? That is, if he does come rescue you..." The venom in her voice chilled Weaver to the bone. How did Ravess know? More importantly, what on all Atmos was Weaver supposed to do?

"I don't...know..." the words choked in Weaver's throat. She really didn't want to be stabbed. It didn't figure at all on her list of things to do. But she refused to betray Starling. It'd be betraying her father, the tavern...and yes, truth and freedom and justice and honour and all those wonderful things that Atmos signed her up for.

And, Weaver felt, with Starling, it was never a certain thing. Sure, protecting lives was the Sky Knight code, but...maybe, if, in the long run, not quite protecting one life meant protecting quite a few more...Starling probably wouldn't leap to Weaver's defence. Er, hopefully that wasn't the case.

"Perhaps you'd like to think again." Ravess said the words rhythmically, almost hypnotically. Weaver could feel the blade through her leather pants now. She swallowed, and shut her eyes. It'd hurt, but at least her scream would warn Gyro and Starling.

"Perhaps you'd like your face rearranged." It wasn't a question. It was an irascible threat, accompanied by the sound of a glass being smashed. Eyes still closed, Weaver winced. She had to return those- actually, considering the circumstances, it probably didn't matter.

It was Starling's voice, by her ear. Ah. She felt slightly bad about questioning the Sky Knight's moral integrity, really.

"Ah, the Interceptor!" Ravess' hiss was sheer delight. Weaver sensed rapid movement, heard at least twenty chairs scrape back. She risked a glance. Ravess was inches from Starling. With a much bigger energy blade, Weaver noted. Starling, for her part, had ditched the traditional jagged glass for nun-chucks with wicked looking purple crystals. Now seemed a pertinent time to extricate herself.

Weaver turned, and found herself facing a circle of Talons. They were brandishing blades, too, and sharky expressions.

"WEAVER!" The shout cut through the predatory atmosphere. So did her trusted metal pipe, dented veteran of many brawls. Gyro shot her a shaky grin, before darting out with his own makeshift weaponry- thick glass bottles- and clonking a Cyclonian.

She was behind an upturned table, clenching her fists around her trusted metal pipe. What series of events, exactly, had lead to her being there was rather hazy. Just a general blur of swinging her pipe and shouting and feeling many things hitting her. She risked a glance across the room. Starling was forcing her way through the Talons. Weaver winced at each kick and the thud of nun-chucks that sent Talons tumbling across the wooden floor. Snipe, hefting an immense mace, ploughed through his own men like a ship through waves with a stare that centred only on Starling. Ravess, Weaver assumed, was lying somewhere with concussion.

Gyro groaned and tried to reach to her. She could see his arm shaking and his forehead was slick with blood that glistened sickeningly in the dim tavern lights.

"You are so stupid, you know?" He only coughed and fluttered his eyelids in response. She needed to get out of this. Right out of this. No more Tavern Tarlk, as far as she could see.

"Right, papa, we've done this before. You just got to find the gap, get to the door...easy, right?"

Maybe. Maybe it was, when she was safe behind the bar right near the door and the brawlers were ignoring her because she wasn't the bloke who'd spilled that drink. Maybe, when she didn't have to worry about dragging her father with her and hoping that Starling made it out alive too.

But, unfortunately, circumstances change.

Starling moved like flames; flickering between movements, her movements barely visible. One minute she was spinning, lashing out with a kick that Snipe deflected with one swipe of his huge hands. Then she was running- running up the huge man- springing into the air, and lashing down with her nun-chucks. They flared violet, washing all other colours out of the room for a split second. And then Starling was on the ground, feet set apart and shoulders squared in a fighting pose. Snipe toppled to the floor with a soft thud.

The Talons were backing away. Staring at Starling. Leaderless.

Now.

Weaver hauled Gyro into her arms and lurched to her feet. He was heavy; she couldn't lift him completely off the ground. It didn't matter! She was stumbling across the room, shoving something out of the way with her shoulder. Out the door, into the black, chilled night. Starling was behind her, and the Sky Knight lifted Gyro easily out of Weaver's arm.

Her father's eyes jerked open. He tried a lopsided smile, first for Weaver, then for Starling. Weaver held in a sob, felt her body shudder.

"Now will you take her?"

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Next Chapteroo in around a week or so =]] that is, unless y'all hate it. But, I hope not.