There were few things Cyclonis did not see through to the end. Stubborn, determined, and laser-focused were all words that had been used to describe her by allies and foes alike. Once she decided that something was worth doing, she did it, usually with devastating efficiency. That was why Ace was surprised that she was struggling with the book Piper had fetched for her nearly two weeks later.

It was three days after the book exchanged hands when he first noticed that something was amiss. She never took longer than a day or two to get through a book of that size, no matter how esoteric the subject matter. That she had barely made a dent in her reading after so long was unlike her. His curiosity piqued, he watched her as she read the book in fits and starts during their precious little downtime.

The first thing he noticed was how animated she was in her displeasure of the mysterious text. She would often sneer and scoff until she'd worked herself into such a temper that she'd snap the book closed, burying it in the depths of her locker as if she were done with it for good, only to unearth it again an hour or a day later. He'd made the mistake of trying to read over her shoulder during one of those episodes to see for himself what had earned her ire. She had immediately slammed the book shut, glaring at him with teeth bared, her eyes clearly expressing her desire to shove the book down his throat and kill two birds with one stone. He'd backed off and not made the mistake of letting his eyes linger too long upon the pages again.

Other times there'd be no scornful noises or angry mutterings. Just a deathly, oppressive silence as she read with a bleak expression. In those moments, he was reminded of their trial and the guilt that would occasionally flit across her face before being ruthlessly stamped out. More than once, he'd notice her go ten, fifteen, even twenty minutes without turning the page. She'd just stare down at the open book, unseeing, lost in thought, until something jolted her back to reality.

But worst of all was the moodiness that had bled into every interaction. She became increasingly sullen and withdrawn during meals and downright tetchy during their work detail. It was wearing thin, and he'd had enough. So when, as he passed her cell after dinner one night, he saw her lost in thought with that damned book in her hands, he strode over to her and snatched it away.

She was on her feet in an instant. "Ace!" she ground out warningly, making a grab for the book. He simply raised his arm, holding it out of her reach. She jumped for it, but he was head and shoulders taller than her, with an arm span to match. All she accomplished was making herself look foolish. She knew it, too, if her angry, embarrassed flush was any indication.

"Give me the book," she ordered, holding her hand out commandingly.

"Not until you tell me why you insist on torturing yourself with it. Masochism clearly doesn't suit you."

"I'm trying to understand something. Someone. It's," she hesitated a moment before continuing, "challenging."

"So I've noticed. Would talking about it make it less challenging?"

He watched the desire to open up war with her natural reticence in the depths of her eyes. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, he was caught off guard by the question she asked.

"Why did you defect?"

"What?" he asked, lowering his arm. She didn't waste her opportunity. Deftly, she plucked the book out of his hand, whirling around to shove it under her pillow before spinning back around to face him once more.

"Why did you come to Cyclonia?" she pressed.

"You know I don't talk about that."

"Why not? You're one of Cyclonia's great heroes. Without you…."

She trailed off. The rest didn't need to be said. In the aftermath of her son's death, it was as if Anarchis Cyclonis had lost her mind, succumbing to a bloodthirsty rage. The war between Cyclonia and the Free Atmos, more cold than hot in those days, flared back to life with a vengeance. The Empire had its sights set on total conquest once more, and it didn't take long for the Free Atmos to realize that its response needed to be swift and decisive if they were to have any hope of stopping it. They were losing a terra a week to Cyclonia, and they couldn't afford half measures. It was Lightning Strike who had come up with the plan, a full-scale assault on Terra Cyclonia meant to cripple the Empire for a generation or better.

And it had been Ace who had thrown a spanner in the works. He massacred his own squadron and cut the head off the snake when he struck down Lightning Strike. He provided Anarchis with advanced warning of Atmos' offensive so that she could recall her forces in time to meet them. And he had led those forces to victory. A crippling blow had been struck that day. To Atmosia. And while Cyclonia had suffered significant losses, too, it was not nearly on the scale that Lightning Strike and the Sky Knight Council had hoped. It hadn't taken them a generation or longer to threaten the Free Atmos once again. It had barely taken a decade.

Silence stretched between them, and she spoke again when it became clear that he wouldn't. "I'm just curious. I've been able to piece together enough of your former life to know that it wasn't a bad one. You had money, noble blood, and served as squire to the Sky Knight of Atmos' premier squadron; you were well on your way to becoming a Sky Knight in your own right. Why give that up?"

He sighed. What the hell, it wasn't like his reputation mattered anymore, anyway.

"I wasn't."

He watched her brow scrunch in confusion. "Wasn't what?"

"I wasn't well on my way to becoming a Sky Knight. Lightning Strike wasn't going to recommend me for knighthood."

"What?"

"I overheard him talking about me not long before I defected. He didn't think I was Sky Knight material."

"That's ridiculous. Your prowess on the battlefield is unquestionable."

"Yes, well, it seems he believed that I liked fighting, that I liked hurting people a little too much."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly, and he smiled. "That's why I defected to Cyclonia. You don't understand. Neither did your grandmother. She saw the same darkness within me that Lightning did, but where he saw it as a flaw, she saw it as strength. He was going to ground me, she put me in charge of her armies."

"So coming to us was just a means to an end?" she asked, and there was an undercurrent of disappointment in her tone. That was why he had never told her this before. He knew that, on the surface, his story made him look bad. It made him look petty and selfish.

"At first," he agreed.

"Do you regret it now? There are worse things than being denied the knighthood and living out the rest of your life on your family's estate in comfort."

"Like being thrown in prison for the rest of my life?" he asked, getting a faint eyebrow twitch of assent from her. "No, I don't regret coming to Cyclonia."

"Why not?"

"Because when I crossed over that border for the first time, when I finally saw the red skies of Cyclonia stretched out before me, it didn't feel like I was leaving something behind. It felt like I was coming home."

"How incredibly maudlin," she said derisively but couldn't hide her slight, pleased smile.

"Which is why I don't like talking about it," he smirked. "No one else needs to know how sappy I am."

She nodded in agreement, "It would ruin you." Her smile slowly faded, replaced by a pensive frown. "Do you think we did the right thing? Or should I have sought a peaceful solution to our conflict with the Free Atmos?"

"No peaceful solution was going to get you what you wanted."

For a moment, it looked like she wanted to say something else, but in the end, she just sighed with a half shrug. He was struck again with the urge to ask about the book, but she spoke before he could. "I'm going to make it an early night." It was as polite a 'get out' as any. He nodded and left, no closer to understanding what was bothering her than he had been before.

Cyclonis lay on her cot, one arm draped over her closed eyes to help block out the light that hadn't been turned out for the night yet. While a part of her wished she could have discussed her ancestor's book and the influence it had held over her father with Ace, another part of her knew that he wouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, understand.

She felt stupid enough even asking him if he thought there had been a peaceful solution to their war. Of course he wouldn't think so. She knew that even before he told her of the catalyst that had led to his defection. She'd said as much to Piper all those months ago. He was a warrior who lived for the thrill of battle. And sure, there would always be a fight to be found, even in peacetime. There'd always be rebels and pirates and rogues to deal with. But would that have been enough for him? She wasn't sure.

What she was sure of was that he would scorn her if she ever confessed to him that she regretted her conquest of the Atmos. After everything she'd heard at the trial, after listening to Piper, to Swift, even to Ravess of all people, it had gotten harder and harder to deny. After remembering what had happened the night before her father's death, and after working her way bit by painful bit through most of her great-grand uncle's memoir, it was nearly impossible to pretend that she had been in the right.

She hated being wrong. She hated her grandmother for the things she had done. She hated her for turning her into the perfect weapon to unleash upon the rest of the Atmos. And she hated herself for letting her. She'd never questioned anything her grandmother had taught her, never doubted a word she said, never strayed too far from the path she had set for her. She was so full of hatred that she was suffocating on it. She tugged on her already loosened collar, the gesture offering no relief.

Giving up on sleep, she pulled the book out from beneath her pillow and forced herself to finish it. The Storm Hawks would be visiting tomorrow, and she wanted the damn thing out of her sight.

Piper studied Cyclonis as she returned the books she had borrowed, assessing her mood. Going into today's visit, she had fully expected Cyclonis to be a pain in the neck. She just wasn't sure what form her anger would take. Would the Cyclonis they confronted today be the one all coiled up, tense and defensive, taking every little thing they said or did as a personal attack until she felt backed far enough into a corner to lash out in a rage? Or would she be openly snide and aggressive from the get-go, trying to hurt them before they could hurt her?

Whichever Cyclonis they got, she was prepared. She'd set herself up for success that morning, waking up early to get in a good workout, followed by a nice long shower before the boys had the chance to use up all the hot water. Moving to the kitchen, she made herself a cup of tea and helped herself to a bowl of Finn's favourite sugary cereal as a treat. Then it was back to her room for a meditation session until Aerrow called everyone into the kitchen for a proper breakfast.

She was calm, she was cool, she was collected. And she wasn't going to let Cyclonis drag her into a fight. If the other girl wanted to pitch a fit, she'd just sit there and weather the storm until she tired herself out or the guards stepped in.

She'd filled Aerrow in on the situation after their last visit, summarizing the book to him, and he was just as certain as she was that this visit would be a miserable one. He was also as determined as she was to put up a stony front in the face of Cyclonis' anger.

Now, as they sat side by side across from Cyclonis, they couldn't help but exchange slightly bewildered glances.

She couldn't read even the hint of a fight brewing within Cyclonis. All of her tells were noticeably lacking. There was no stormy anger roiling in the depths of her eyes. No tension in the set of her shoulders or jaw. Her tone lacked any of the sarcasm that she liked to wield as a weapon to provoke a reaction. She just looked tired. Not just physically tired, like she hadn't been sleeping well, although she certainly did look as if she hadn't been sleeping well. No, this tired cut deeper than that. She didn't need to ask her if she had actually read the book. She knew she had.

She briefly toyed with the idea of asking her what she thought of it but decided against it. Just like she wasn't going to let herself get drawn into a fight, she wasn't going to pick one, either. Aerrow, who liked wielding sarcasm as if it were a stick to poke a caged cloud bear with as much as Cyclonis did, remained silent as well.

With all of them seemingly on the same page for once, the visit ended up being the quietest one yet. Hardly a word was spoken as she checked the cuffs, and after finding no signs of tampering, she and Aerrow left.

Their next visit, two weeks later, went much the same way.

When the visit after that looked to be headed in the same direction, she decided enough was enough, and it was time to have a conversation. Unfortunately, Cyclonis didn't agree. She deflected or outright ignored Piper's questions. Even when Piper began trying to goad her into a response, she gave her nothing to work with beyond a tensing of her shoulders and a tightening of her mouth. But the look in her eyes that accompanied those tiny gestures wasn't so much anger as sadness. It made Piper feel even more determined than before.

But when next they met, Cyclonis brought the Dark Ace along with her, using him as a shield against her prying. At the end of the visit, she cornered Ace and tried to get his take on Cyclonis' behaviour. He merely scoffed and pushed past her without a word.

The Dark Ace became a regular fixture of their visits after that, gamely going along with being the one doing most of the talking for the Cyclonian side of the table, deftly antagonizing Aerrow and sometimes even her to derail the conversation whenever it started going somewhere Cyclonis didn't want it to go. It would have been funny if it wasn't so frustrating. Until it wasn't.

She hadn't started the visit in the best of moods. No one had. It was only mid-spring, but you would have thought it was the height of summer. The temperature on Zartacla was pushing 38, and it wasn't even noon yet. It was a sticky heat that rolled in right on the heels of a thunderstorm, and nobody wanted to be there. Not them, not the guards, and certainly not the inmates.

After a bit of the usual song and dance between them, she got fed up. "So we're just never going to talk about the book, huh?" she snapped, voice raised more than she had intended. She wasn't sorry.

Cyclonis looked at Dark Ace, and she lost it. "No! Stop hiding behind him! I don't want to talk to him! I want to talk to you!"

The conversation, if it could even be called that, rapidly devolved from there. Dark Ace had said something unflattering to her in response, which had raised Aerrow's hackles. With everyone's tempers already piqued from the miserable weather, the barbs that were thrown back and forth between Aerrow and Dark Ace lacked even the barest hint of the humour that usually kept things from getting entirely out of hand.

Then the Dark Ace had said something downright cruel about Lightning Strike, and thank the stars they were required to leave their weapons onboard the Condor because Aerrow launched himself across the table in response.

The visiting room guards had to call for backup in order to gather enough men to successfully drag the two of them off of each other. The Dark Ace and Cyclonis were taken back to their cells while she and Aerrow ended up in the warden's office getting dressed down by Mr. Moss, who eventually let them go with a declaration that it was too damn hot to deal with this bullshit right now and that the Sky Knight Council would be hearing from him about the incident.

Aerrow's face was a thundercloud as they double-timed it back to the Condor. Once aboard, he scrubbed his hands through his sweaty hair, making it stick up every which way. Coupled with the blood that trickled from a cut near the corner of his eye, it made him look half feral. "I hate them!" he said vehemently. "I wish the Council would find some other crystal mage to take over! Let someone else make sure they rot on this godsforsaken terra!"

She didn't have a response for him. She just took him gently by the wrist and led him to the kitchen, sitting him down before liberating a couple of bottles of pop from the fridge. Taking her own seat, she slid one across the table to him.

They sat in silence until they had both finished their drinks. "You should go get cleaned up," she suggested. "You'll feel better after a shower."

He hummed noncommittally but stood, tossing his empty bottle into the trash before disappearing down the hall toward the bathroom. Sighing, she slouched forward and put her head in her hands. Maybe Aerrow was right. Maybe someone else did need to take over this assignment. It wasn't fair to him, dragging him over and over again to this place to meet with these people. And who was she kidding, anyway? Cyclonis was never going to change. It was stupid of her to hope for that, to ever believe that they might actually become real friends.

She must have gotten lost in her own ruminations for longer than she thought because she was startled when Aerrow's voice cut through her dark thoughts.

"Hey."

She looked up at him. She had been right about the shower. He looked better, lighter since he'd had the chance to cool down, both physically and emotionally. He smiled sheepishly when their eyes met.

"Hey," she greeted back.

"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier," he said. "I got a little...I shouldn't have let him get to me like that."

"He shouldn't have said what he did."

He shrugged in response as if to ask, 'What can you do?'

"I'm sorry, too," she told him. "You were right. We can't keep doing this. I'll speak with the Council, we'll find someone else who can monitor Cyclonis."

"No, I know this is important to you."

"It's not."

"Yeah, it is."

"It's really not. I've been so naïve..."

"Piper, it's fine. It was one bad day. If we always quit after one bad day, Atmos would look a lot different than it does right now."

"That's an understatement," she smiled.

"Besides, there's no one I trust more with this than you. If you want to quit, I won't stop you. But if you're just saying you want to, for my sake, I really don't want you to do that. So? What're we doing?"

She just stared for a moment, affection for him flooding through her, making her feel warm from the inside out. He somehow always knew the right thing to say. She wished she knew how he did that.

"Piper? You okay? You're looking at me kinda funny," he said, blushing faintly as he grinned at her.

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I just," she hesitated as an idea came to her. "Let me get back to you on this, okay? There's someone I want to talk to first once we get back to Atmosia."

"The Council?"

"No, not the Council."

Ace was livid.

Cyclonis hadn't said a word the entire way back to the cell block. Truth be told, she'd barely said anything to anyone in weeks. Since their brief conversation where he'd told her why he'd come to Cyclonia, she'd been nothing but tight-lipped and withdrawn.

When she asked him to start attending her bimonthly visits with the Storm Hawks again, to act as a buffer and a distraction, it was the most words she had strung together in well over a month. He'd been more than happy to run interference for her at the time, though he'd have been happier if she'd told him why. But even without knowing the reason, getting to annoy the Storm Hawks was a nice break from the monotony.

For a while.

But it was getting old now. More specifically, Cyclonis' lack of communication and trust in him was getting old. He knew it all came back to that accursed book, but that's where his knowledge ended, and he was tired of it. He'd just gotten into a fight over a book! It was ridiculous. He deserved to know the whole story.

So, when she broke away from him to disappear into her own cell, without so much as an acknowledgment of how far he'd gone to do her bidding, let alone a thank you, he acted without thinking.

Snagging her by the collar, he pulled her back to his side before quickly readjusting his hold, gripping the back of her neck. "We need to talk," he said, squeezing lightly to emphasize his words.

"Release me. Now," she ordered through her teeth.

His only response was to start walking, towing her along with him. They only got a few steps before an oblivious Snipe came up to them.

"Hey guys, I..." Snipe trailed off as he took in the murderous look on his face and his hand gripping the scruff of Cyclonis' neck, his eyes widening in panic. "l, uh, you…you look busy. Never mind," he said, backing away. So, he wasn't a complete oaf, after all.

He marched Cyclonis to one of the empty cells at the far end of the cellblock, where he hoped they'd have a modicum of privacy, before releasing her with a small shove toward the unmade cot. "Sit."

Unsurprisingly, she did not sit. Instead, she whirled on him, her eyes blazing with a combination of outrage and poorly disguised shame. "You-"

"Embarrassed you in front of Snipe? Good! Now then," he said, taking a menacing step into her personal space. "Are you going to sit down, Lark, or am I going to have to help you?"

A year ago, he would have been signing his own death warrant doing this. It wouldn't have mattered how much of a soft spot she had for him as the closest thing to both friend and family she had left. Mere sentiment wouldn't have saved him.

What did save him were those cuffs around her wrists. For the first (and probably only) time, he was grateful for them. She glared up at him, full of rage and defiance, but they both knew that glaring was all she could do to him as things stood now. Not once had she ever won one of their sparring matches without crystals at her disposal.

With a careless shrug, he moved as if to grab her again, and she scuttled backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the thin mattress, dropping gracelessly onto the cot.

"You're going to tell me what's been bothering you."

"I don't have to do anything," she shot back.

"Neither do I," he said, and she blinked in surprise. "If you want my continued cooperation, I'm going to need yours in return."

A sneer replaced the shock on her face. "Are you really this upset over a fight with Aerrow? Can't say I blame you. It did look like you were losing before the guards separated you. I guess you really struck a nerve."

He clenched his fists but forced himself to relax. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly before reacting. "Nice try, but your attempt at deflection is painfully transparent."

She frowned but stubbornly remained silent.

"I know this all has something to do with that book. What deep, dark secrets were hidden within those pages?"

Still, more silence greeted him.

"Does it have to do with the war? Is that why you asked me if I thought you did the right thing?"

She didn't answer, but her gaze cut to the side for a split second before returning to him. "That's it, isn't it? You think you did the wrong thing, and you're afraid I'll judge you for it," he realized. "I think I deserve the chance to form my own opinions rather than have you assume them for me."

She didn't like that. Standing, she moved toward the door. "I have nothing to discuss with you."

He moved to block her path. "If that's true, then that's it. You're on your own. Don't ask me for my help again."

He thought that might get through to her, but he was wrong. She merely straightened her shoulders and stepped around him, leaving him the one blinking in surprise this time.

True to his word, Mr. Moss did contact the Council about what had happened during their last visit. They discovered that when they returned to Atmosia and were immediately summoned to the Council Hall.

When they got there, however, they weren't led before the full Sky Knight Council as they had expected. Instead, they were brought to the antechamber before the Chairman's office, where they were told to have a seat and that the Chairman would be with them shortly.

After a few minutes, the office door swung open, and the Chairman himself stepped out into the antechamber. They both stood, and he shook his head. "I'd like to speak to Piper first," he said, and they exchanged a look before Aerrow hesitantly retook his seat.

Piper followed the Chairman into his office, waiting until he had settled into his seat behind his desk before blurting out, "Aerrow didn't do anything wrong!"

The Chairman merely raised an eyebrow in response, and she could feel herself blush. "I mean…obviously, that's not entirely…okay, fine. What happened shouldn't have happened, but he was provoked."

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" the Chairman suggested, the barest hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. She took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension ebb out of her, and started at the beginning.

Once she was finished, the Chairman thanked her and had her go wait out in the antechamber while he called Aerrow in to get his side of the story. A short while later, she was called back in. The Chairman studied them for a moment before speaking. "I only have one more question, and I want an honest answer."

They both nodded.

"Do you think you're capable of continuing with this assignment? Actually, let me rephrase that. Do you want to continue this assignment?"

They looked at each other. This was it. Their chance…her chance, really, since Aerrow had left it up to her to decide…to back out of this. To wash their hands of the Cyclonians and focus solely on their duties as Atmosia's Sky Knight squadron. Aerrow tilted his head, reiterating that it was her decision and he would support her either way. She nodded back to him before refocusing on the Chairman.

"We do," she said.

The Chairman's gaze swung to Aerrow, who said, "What Piper said. And I swear that nothing like this will ever happen again."

The corner of the Chairman's mouth twitched once, then again, and then he burst into laughter. She exchanged another bemused look with Aerrow. The Chairman shook his head, removing his glasses to wipe at his eyes as he reined in his laughter.

"Don't make promises you aren't certain you can keep. I've known Ignatius since he was a boy. He's always been, how can I put this diplomatically? Tactless. Joining the Cyclonian cause seems to have done nothing to change that."

The rest of the tension drained out of her, and beside her, she could practically feel Aerrow relax as well.

"There's only one thing left to do, then," the Chairman said, fully composed once more. "Aerrow, hold out your hand."

Confused, Aerrow did as instructed, and the Chairman plucked a file folder from a stack piled on the corner of his desk before whacking Aerrow's hand with it. Aerrow's face scrunched with even more confusion, and she couldn't help but laugh. "What was that?" he asked.

"A slap on the wrist. I will contact Warden Moss and let him know that you have been appropriately disciplined. This matter is closed."

"Thank you, Chairman."

"No need to thank me, Aerrow. All I ask is that you try to keep the promise you made here."

Aerrow nodded, and they were dismissed.

"So," Aerrow said as they walked back out into the Atmosian sunlight. It was the perfect spring day, with clear skies and temperatures that hovered around 18 degrees. A far cry from the unseasonably hot weather on Zartacla. "Wanna go grab some ice cream?"

"I'd like that, but maybe later? I have something else I need to do first, and Finn will pitch a fit if he finds out we got ice cream without him," she grinned.

Aerrow's smile looked a little forced as he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he agreed. "Right, we'd never hear the end of it. Okay, later then."

She looked at him quizzically. "Are you okay?"

Aerrow blushed. "I'm fine," he answered quickly. "Go do your thing, and I'll see you later." He gave her a more natural smile this time, and she smiled back, nodding.

They went their separate ways; Aerrow back to the Condor, her to catch transport to the Stockade. Once there, she spoke with the guards stationed at the entrance, stated her reason for being there, and was escorted to where she wanted to go. Stopping outside a trio of offices, the guard raised his hand to knock on one of the doors just as she was struck with a sudden case of nerves. What had seemed like a good idea when she thought of it now seemed a bit silly. "Wait," she told the guard as his fist hovered mere centimetres from the door. "On second thought, I'm sure he's busy with more important things. Forget it, I don't want to interrupt him."

The guard frowned, looking a little annoyed, but the door opened before he could respond. Captain Swift stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, the other clutching a stack of files. He looked from the guard to her, then back to the guard. "Perfect timing," he said. "Vogel, do you have time to run a few errands, or are you needed downstairs?" Once Vogel had confirmed that the others could manage without him for a bit, Swift continued. "Good. Piper, why don't you go in and have a seat? I'll be with you in a minute."

Too late to turn back now, she did as she was told, surprised that he so easily remembered her name. Sure, they'd interacted a few times, but those occasions had been months ago now. And with his job, he must interact with a bunch of people, new and old, every day. The familiarity did nothing to soothe her nerves. Anxiously, her eyes cast around his office as she waited for him to finish his impromptu meeting with Vogel. It wasn't much to look at. The only thing of any note was a picture frame on his desk. Curiously, she turned it around to look at it. It turned out to be a cute photo of what she assumed was his family. She smiled a little, then felt her face heat up when Swift cleared his throat as he rounded his desk and sat, facing her. She quickly returned the frame to its place and leaned back.

"Sorry."

"It's alright," he assured her with a peculiar little smile as he adjusted the frame to his liking. "What can I do for you?"

A million thoughts ran through her head. 'Well, you see, Cyclonis has been acting strange ever since I gave her a book that may or may not have shattered her entire worldview. A book that she asked me to find for her, so she has no one to blame but herself, really! But anyway, she refuses to talk about it, which can't be healthy, right? Something like that should be talked about, shouldn't it? She's definitely acting like she should. But of course, she isn't. Because that would be too easy! And when is anything ever easy with her? I've tried everything, every trick in the book I know to get a rise out of her and get her talking, but I think she's caught onto my tactics, and they aren't working anymore. So then I thought, well, if she won't talk to me, who will she talk to? Maybe the Dark Ace? But trying to talk to him was a non-starter. He wouldn't even hear me out. Then I thought of you because she seems to, I don't know, respect you. At least she didn't kill you when she could have the night she and the Dark Ace tried to escape after the verdict reading. And she does not hesitate when it comes to trying to kill people. Believe me, I know. So that was, wow. Unexpected. So I thought maybe if you talked to her, maybe we'd get somewhere.'

"Piper?"

She blinked and focused on Captain Swift.

"Are you okay? You're staring into space."

"Sorry! I'm fine. I just…it's about Cyclonis."

"I had a sneaking suspicion. What has she done this time?"

"It's not like that," she assured him before launching into the explanation for why she was there.

Ace refused to acknowledge her presence. He wouldn't talk to her. He wouldn't even work with her. The Monday after his attempt to confront her, he had paired off with Snipe, leaving her and Ravess stuck with each other. Ravess had been apoplectic, railing against him, demanding they switch back, threatening not to do any work until they did. It was an empty threat. They all knew it. Ace stuck to his guns, and soon enough, Ravess knuckled under, angrily grabbing a shovel and getting to work.

He was crazy if he thought such childish attempts to get back at her were going to work, just as he had been crazy to think that he could bully her into talking to him after their disastrous meeting with the Storm Hawks. Even if she wanted to talk to him about everything that was bothering her (she didn't), even if she thought he would understand (he wouldn't), she wasn't about to acquiesce to his demands when he approached her with such arrogance and aggression. She'd had to swallow her pride too often with too many people. She wasn't going to tolerate his disrespect, too.

Still, as the days wore on, she had to admit to herself that she was growing lonelier. Ravess would only speak to her when necessary. The guards who remained sympathetic to her, while still willing to do her little favours when they thought they could get away with it, were scared of being accused of loyalty to her by Mr. Moss. Since the escape attempt, they had taken to treating her with the same level of coldness that the guards who hated her did. She understood intellectually, but it still made her feel like a pariah, especially now that she'd lost Ace. The only person who was still talking to her was Snipe, and he wasn't exactly scintillating company.

Her resolve began to crack when she realized that this was what she had sought to avoid in the first place. She had been so worried that she'd lose his respect and his companionship if she told him the truth that her refusal to do so had led to that exact same outcome. And he hadn't been wrong when he said he deserved to form his own opinions. She realized that now. He'd just gone about it the wrong way. Maybe if he came to her and apologized for his behaviour, she'd finally be willing to confide in him. It would have to be a convincing apology.

But after two weeks, no apology had been forthcoming, and it was time to meet with the Storm Hawks again. She sighed. Having Ace with her at these meetings had served a dual purpose. Not only was he adept at distracting the Storm Hawks and redirecting the conversation, but his presence strengthened her resolve not to give in to Piper's constant cajoling. That was becoming increasingly difficult as time went on. A treasonous part of her balked at disappointing Piper. Always had if she were being honest with herself. It was ridiculous, and she'd die before ever admitting it to anyone.

Today's meeting was going to be a difficult one.

She was led into the visitation room and was surprised to find Captain Swift waiting for her, alone. Suspiciously, she sat down across from him. "Don't tell me Piper's roped you into one of her schemes."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm here for a surprise inspection of the prison and wanted to see how you're doing," he said with an entirely unconvincing smile.

"Tired and sore. Mr. Moss has us spending practically our every waking hour during the week out in the sun filling sandbags, and I can't help but feel like you're behind it somehow."

He shook his head with a laugh. "I thought you looked less deathly pale than usual. I may have mentioned that he should find something productive for you to do. I should have known he'd take it to the extreme. Try cold showers if you haven't already. It'll help a little with the soreness. But that's not what I meant when I asked you how you are."

"So you are here at Piper's behest."

To his credit, he dropped the pretense. "She's worried about you."

It was her turn to laugh. "You buy that? She just desperately wants me to tell her she's right. It'd be the highlight of her sad little life."

He gave her a disappointed look that had her lowering her eyes in spite of herself. He didn't reply, just let her stew in her own thoughts as he let the silence stretch. If this conversation was to continue, she would have to be the one to continue it, his silence said.

To her dismay, it worked. Her resolve, cracked but intact in the face of badgering, bullying, and passive-aggressive shunning, shattered. "Do you remember when you accused me of being just another brainwashed Cyclonian?" she asked quietly, chancing a glance back up at him.

He gave her a small but encouraging smile. "I remember. Have you reevaluated the stance you took during that conversation?"

Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth in protest of what she was about to admit. It took her a moment to force out the words. "I have." His smile didn't change. It didn't turn smug or mocking or even pitying. It remained encouraging, and he gave a little nod to prompt her to continue. She did. She told him everything, the words coming easier now that the hardest part was out of the way. It was a relief to get them out, to finally share this burden. It helped that it was Swift. He was trustworthy in a way she wasn't used to. He'd already seen her at her lowest, and it hadn't changed how he treated her. He'd never used her moments of weakness against her, to hurt or humiliate or blackmail her.

He listened intently, his face a study of compassion as she stumbled over some of the more difficult parts of the story, like what had happened to her father. He kept his interjections to a minimum, not wanting to interrupt the flow of her words, probably afraid that she'd shut down entirely given half the chance. When she was done, he sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, processing his thoughts.

"I'm sorry that you felt you needed to keep all that bottled up for months," he finally said. "I wish it wasn't so hard for you to accept that there are a few people out there who care about you and want to help."

"Like Piper?" she said sarcastically, every instinct driving her to dismiss his words as mere platitudes.

"Like Piper," he agreed, choosing to ignore her skepticism. "And me. And the Dark Ace."

"A whole three people."

"Considering how you push people away like it's your full-time job, three is nothing to scoff at," he gently teased her. "I know you haven't asked me for any advice, but I'm going to give you some, anyway. Extend an olive branch and tell Piper what you told me. She just wants to be your friend. I don't think you fully appreciate how remarkable that is, given your history. Granted, I don't know all the details, but I can speculate based on how both of you sound when talking about the other. There are a lot of big emotions there. I think she can help you if you let her."

"Help me how?"

"Help you figure out what you want to do with this revelation."

She frowned. What did he mean do with it?

She must have broadcast her thoughts as surely as she had spoken them aloud because he went on. "What do you think your father would want you to do? Sit around wallowing in your anger and guilt and self-pity? Or put that sharp mind of yours to work trying to rectify some of the damage you've done?"

"How do you suggest I do that?"

"I'm sure you can come up with something if you and Piper put your heads together."

She was surprised to find that she wasn't opposed to the idea. Her family would always be tainted by the blood they had spilled. That was set in stone the moment Cyclonia fell. The Cyclonis dynasty had lived by the sword, and it had died by the sword, and that was how history would remember it. She'd spent every day since her defeat operating under that assumption. But maybe it didn't have to be that way. She couldn't change the past, but it wasn't too late for her to do some good in this world. It might not right the wrongs she had committed, but it would perhaps balance the scales enough so that, by the time the end came, she could look at herself in the mirror and see her father's legacy instead of her grandmother's vengeance. A spark of hope, of excitement even, flared to life within her. Ideas were already taking shape. But they would have to wait a little longer.

"I can't talk to her about this yet."

"Why not?"

"There's something I have to do first."

"May I come in?" she asked, standing in the doorway of Ace's cell. He was lounging on his cot, one arm pillowing the back of his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He glanced over at her briefly before looking back to the ceiling, a silent denial of her request.

She rolled her eyes, sighing in frustration as she stalked back to her cell. She paced there for a few minutes before stalking back to his door, grinding her teeth as she worked out what to say next. "How long do you intend to keep this up?"

No answer.

She thought of her resolution to be a better person and tried again. "I'm sorry you took such offence to my not wanting to talk. If you're ready to apologize for your own abhorrent behaviour, I'm ready to have that conversation now."

He snorted but sat up, giving a slight head tilt of invitation. She hesitated at the door, waiting to see if he'd offer up the requested apology. When none was forthcoming, she realized that she'd once again have to be the bigger person if they were to get anywhere. Making a conscious effort to smooth her features so that her irritation didn't show, she stepped into his cell.

She paced back and forth a few times, trying to decide the best way to go about things, finally settling on the ripping-off-an-adhesive-bandage approach. "You were right," she confessed, facing him once more. "I have come to the conclusion that I-that my attempt to conquer the Atmos was w-wro…" She stopped to clear her throat and try again but didn't make it much further the second time.

"Wrong?" he supplied, taking pity on her or perhaps just growing tired of listening to her stutter and stumble over the offending word. She gave a curt nod, a small shudder of distaste running down her spine. She crossed her arms, awaiting the judgment that was sure to follow.

"What prompted this?" he asked instead.

As succinctly as she could, she told him about the book before moving on to conversations she'd had with Piper and Captain Swift and the feelings of doubt and even guilt that had plagued her at times throughout their trial. She touched on some of the things she had been taught growing up by her grandmother and various tutors and how foolish she felt for never questioning their version of reality even when she was presented with conflicting evidence. She left out the part about her father and grandmother. A part of her felt like it was wrong, somehow, to speak ill of the woman to someone who had known her and who credited her with the success and notoriety he had enjoyed as Cyclonia's champion.

"And how can you be sure you're not just falling for Atmosian propaganda, now?"

"Ace," she sighed, sounding tired even to her own ears.

"No. There's nothing inherently wrong with the goal you were pursuing. There's strength and stability in unity."

"And that could have been achieved through an alliance with the Free Atmos."

"That wouldn't have been the same, and you know it. The main thing holding the Free Atmos' terras together is their shared hatred of Cyclonia. Take that away, and what have you got? There are no other common interests binding them together. No shared culture. They aren't like the Empire. They don't understand loyalty the way we do."

"Are you saying that because it's true, or are you saying that because you still feel betrayed by Lightning Strike?"

His jaw tightened in anger. "The two don't have to be mutually exclusive."

She bowed her head, part concession of the point, part apology. That had been a low blow on her part. She shouldn't have brought up the old Storm Hawks.

"Assuming you're right, so what?"

"So what?"

"Yes, so what? What's so bad about the Free Atmos not being as rigid as Cyclonia? Let's say a few terras didn't like that the rest were allying with us and decided to break off and form their own coalition. The Free Atmos barely managed to eke out a win against us when they were united. What threat could any splinter group pose to us?"

"If your grandmother heard y-"

"I don't care what my grandmother would think!"

He blinked, taken aback by the vehemence of her outburst. "That's new," he said, his surprise giving way to shrewd understanding. "It seems I'm not the only one here who's felt the sting of betrayal. What did she do?"

So much for holding back.

"She had my father killed."

Ace didn't look surprised, and she felt the familiar, bitter chill of suspicion settle in the pit of her stomach. Before she could say anything, he held up his hands in an appeasing gesture. "No, I didn't know," he said as if reading her mind. "That was before my time, remember? I merely wouldn't put it past her. If he started speaking the way you are now, she'd do what she felt was necessary to protect Cyclonia's interests."

"That's a very pragmatic take," she said, feeling a bit irked at his dispassionate response.

"Can you honestly say you wouldn't do the same in her position?"

She frowned. "I like to think I'd draw the line at filicide," she said, but her frown deepened as she began to doubt herself. Would she have done the same? Not with the same cold calculation, certainly. She felt confident about that. But when she was angry? She could admit that she had sometimes acted without thinking. It wasn't something she was proud of. "I hope I wouldn't."

He studied her as if reassessing everything he knew about her, and it was a challenge not to squirm under the weight of his gaze. "You're disappointed. I knew you would be."

"I'm not."

"You don't have to lie."

"I'm not," he reiterated more firmly. "I'm just surprised. All this," he waved a hand, encompassing all that had happened since the fall of Cyclonia. "It's changed you."

"Into a disappointment."

"Or maybe it's just revealed who you've always been deep down."

"So now I've always been a disappointment."

"I'll tell you what you aren't, half as funny as you think you are."

She felt some of the tension drain out of her. That he was still talking to her, being playful even, was a good sign that her confession hadn't irrevocably broken their relationship.

He went on. "I'm not going to pretend that I agree with you. I think too much time spent listening to Swift and your precious little Piper has addled your brain. But it hardly matters anymore, does it?"

"And if it did? If I had come to you with this a year ago?"

"I would have had the court physician secretly examine you for any signs of mind control. And if he found none, I would have tried to make you listen to reason. And if that didn't work, I would have carried out your orders as I always have. Maybe someone would've tried to stick a knife in your back over it, but it wouldn't have been me."

"Really?"

"Have I ever given you cause to doubt me?"

She raised a finger, about to start ticking off the (admittedly few) times he'd pushed the boundaries of her tolerance.

"You never let anything go, do you?"

She let her hands fall back down to her sides. "Thank you," she said, uncomfortably aware of how foreign it felt.

"You're welcome."

Starling topped off her coffee, stirring cream and sugar into her mug as Piper sat across from her with her own cup of tea sitting untouched in front of her. She wasn't usually a cream-and-sugar person, but she needed the extra little boost this morning. Piper was quite animated as she engaged her in a mostly one-sided conversation. She didn't usually mind the high energy most of the Storm Hawks brought to the table, but it was still a bit early for her taste.

She liked getting up before everyone else on the days she stayed onboard the Condor. Usually, she could get in a good hour of quiet solitude before any of the kids woke up. It helped her ground herself and mentally prepare for the day. But today, she had barely finished brewing a pot of coffee before Piper came padding into the kitchen. She had immediately launched into conversation, giving her no time to retreat to a different part of the ship without being rude. Cornered, she'd merely sunk into the nearest chair, clutching her mug close. Might as well get comfortable.

She sipped her drink, listening just closely enough to make appropriate noises in response. Every now and then, something would stand out enough to warrant a more detailed comment. Other times, she had to bite her tongue to avoid commenting.

Like now.

"Captain Swift said she'll talk to me when she's ready, but c'mon, this is Cyclonis we're talking about! 'When she's ready' could be 'never', as stubborn as she is."

Starling took a sip to hide her smirk. It wasn't that Piper was wrong; Cyclonis was stubborn. But Piper could definitely give her a run for her money in that department.

"What do you think?"

Damn.

She sifted through the bits and pieces that had stuck with her over the past few minutes. Satisfied that she had enough context to work with, she said, "I think you should let it go."

"Let it go?" Piper responded incredulously. "When we're this close to a breakthrough?"

She shook her head. "You're not her therapist. Nor is she your latest experiment."

Piper blushed faintly. "I know that."

"And from the sound of it, she has talked about it. She just hasn't talked about it to you."

Piper's blush became more pronounced, and she looked legitimately hurt. "But why not?"

She sighed internally. She didn't mean for that to sound as harsh as it did. Her brain went into fix-it mode, thinking up how to spin things in a way that would make her feel better. Piper always seemed to thrive when given something to be indignant about. She'd try playing off of that. "There could be any number of reasons. But the most likely is that she's toying with you, denying you what she knows you want. So if you act like you don't want it anymore, you take away her fun, and then she might be inclined to talk to you."

Piper didn't launch into an impassioned rant as she had expected, though. Instead, she heaved a sad, almost wistful sigh. "You really think this is just a game to her? Every time I think there's a chance we might actually be starting to get along..."

Oh. Ohhhhh! Starling took another long sip of her coffee, studying Piper speculatively over the rim of her mug. Piper could be tricky to understand sometimes. She tended to be emotionally open and physically affectionate with people, even ones she had just met. She remembered her own early interactions with the Storm Hawks and the awkward puppy crush/hero worship she'd been on the receiving end of. Thankfully that hadn't lasted long.

She was also apparently a bit of a natural flirt. She'd learned that after one of her and Aerrow's sparring matches. She had playfully asked him when he was going to get up the nerve to ask Piper out on a real date. She'd noticed the way the two of them danced around each other. She even had a friendly bet going with Stork about it, not that she told Aerrow that. He had laughed it off, claiming Piper acted that way around everyone, and it didn't mean anything.

Except she'd certainly never seen Piper act that way around any of the other Storm Hawks. A fact she had pointed out to him, only to have him blush and stammer that he meant other people.

All that to say that it could be difficult to decipher Piper's signals and distinguish when her interest was platonic versus possibly something more. Like now. She hoped that she was reading too much into Piper's reaction. Because if she wasn't, well, that was unfortunate. And not just because she had a bet to win.

"It's also possible that she just doesn't want to admit to you that she was wrong, and the more you try to force it, the harder she's going to dig in her heels."

"So just let it go," Piper repeated, in begrudging agreement this time.

She held out her mug to cheer with, and Piper picked up her own, clinking it against hers before taking a sip, grimacing. "Tea's cold."

It took several more meetings for them to make any progress.

Piper very conspicuously didn't pressure her to talk about the book or her thoughts on it. Curiosity and her own desire to not have to confess to a third person (and fourth, since Aerrow was there) that she had regrets caused her not to volunteer any information. Would Piper actually go an entire meeting without bringing it up?

To her surprise, Piper did go the entire meeting without mentioning it. And the second. By the end of the third, she decided Piper must have actually decided to drop the matter. That was both good and bad. Good for the obvious reasons, bad because ignoring the issue wasn't leading to the outcome she had begun to hope for when she spoke with Captain Swift: the opportunity to start making amends.

She had had plenty of time during the mind-numbing hours of busy work to consider how she might go about that, and one way stood out above the others. So, before the third meeting could end, she casually broached the subject, not wanting to sound too eager.

"So, how's your work with my notebooks coming along?"

Piper immediately perked up but quickly tried to hide her enthusiasm behind a veneer of indifference. "Why do you care? You never did anything with that one project I asked for your help with."

That confirmed what she had already suspected. The guards had thrown out her work instead of giving it to Piper. She should've known from the start that that would happen.

Rather than correct Piper's assumption, though, she shrugged. "It was a dead end, anyway."

"Well, I've been really focused on my own projects lately. It's been a while since I've given yours any thought."

"Too complex for you, are they?"

"Hardly. They just aren't as interesting once you delve into them as they seemed at first glance."

"So you wouldn't be interested in choosing another one for me to work on for you?"

"So it can disappear, too, never to be seen again?"

"If my ideas are so boring, why would it matter if one disappeared or not? But if you're so afraid of that happening, we can always just work on it together."

"Hmm. We'll see."

Piper waited until they were outside and out of sight before punching the air, practically doing a little dance in her excitement.

"She wants to work with me!"

Aerrow nodded, slowly recovering from the secondhand embarrassment he had suffered during their conversation. Watching Piper and Cyclonis try to outcool each other with their fake indifference had been next-level awkward.

"What're you thinking?" Piper asked, looking over at him curiously when he didn't say anything.

"I'm thinking about what dorks you both are," he teased her, prompting her to punch him on the arm.

"You're not exactly Mr. Cool Guy all the time, yourself," she shot back, and he grinned. Touché. "I can't help it that I'm excited! I've told you before how amazing some of the ideas in those notebooks are, but a lot of them have me stumped. And obviously, they stumped her, too. But now that we can collaborate, we might actually make progress. We could change the world!"

He smiled. "I know you've been hoping for this for a while."

"And best of all, she suggested it! This is the first real peace offering I've ever gotten from her! Do you know what this means?"

"You were right?"

"I was right," she grinned, practically radiating smugness.

Things started promisingly enough. At their first meeting, they wasted no time zeroing in on one simpler, more achievable-seeming ideas and had spent the rest of the visit brainstorming design ideas.

She spent the next two weeks working on the practical side of things, building and testing their first prototype. It hadn't worked. Cyclonis had been irritated at the news, but Piper had taken her attitude in stride. She was irritated, too. They both knew that failure was all part of the process, but that didn't mean they had to like it.

On the third visit, when she once again had to announce her lack of success, Cyclonis' mood was even worse. She was downright mean a few times, especially when she caught an error in Piper's mathematics as they ran through the numbers again. Fuming at how she was being treated, Piper packed up her things and stormed out.

Still, she kept working until she had a breakthrough and was able to announce at the start of their fourth meeting that she had built a working prototype. She had thought that would get Cyclonis to lighten up. She had been wrong. While she wasn't as cruel as she had been during their previous visit, she still wasn't fun to work with. Her suspicions about what Cyclonis' problem was grew throughout the visit until she finally snapped. She told her that she was sorry if Cyclonis was upset that she didn't get to participate in the practical side of things, but that that wasn't her fault, so stop taking it out on her. She told her that she couldn't treat people the way she did, and if she didn't stop, then she could consider their partnership over. Because that's what this was, a partnership, and she wasn't going to tolerate being talked down to and treated like a lackey. She ended the visit by again storming out before Cyclonis could respond.

Cyclonis started out the next meeting tense and quiet. For her part, Piper pretended like she hadn't handed her an ultimatum last time, and soon enough, Cyclonis relaxed. She never apologized, but she did become a whole lot more tolerable to be around. So, she could treat people with basic respect when she wanted to, huh? Good to know.

They fell into a comfortable routine. Piper would get the cuff check out of the way first thing, freeing up the rest of the time for her to report on her triumphs and setbacks, for them to bounce ideas off of one another, or for them to just talk. Cyclonis liked chatting about current events, and to her surprise, she was only occasionally horrified by her take on things. Even more surprising, Cyclonis didn't seem to mind much when the conversation turned more personal. It was actually kind of fun to talk to her, in a morbid kind of way. If she wanted (usually) good advice, she would continue to go to Aerrow or Starling or Suzy Lu. But if she just wanted to vent and have her feelings validated, Cyclonis was quickly becoming her go-to. None of her other friends would suggest parachute sabotage as a valid form of conflict resolution, even as a joke. At least, she chose to believe Cyclonis was joking.

Things got briefly awkward again during the visit preceding the one-year anniversary of the fall of Cyclonia. Current events suddenly became a hot-button issue when the news was filled with nothing but retrospectives. And she couldn't talk about her upcoming plans when said plans were filled with the festivities that were scheduled to take place throughout the Free Atmos in the next week. She left the meeting feeling strangely melancholic, and that melancholy followed her over the next couple of days until Aerrow took it upon himself to snap her out of it.

He stole her newspaper right out of her hands one morning when she was in the middle of reading an article headlined: One Year After the Fall of Cyclonia, Instability Still Plagues the Region. Before she could take it back, he handed it off to Radarr, who scurried off to parts unknown with it. "C'mon, Piper, we're going to go have fun today."

"I have been having fun," she argued.

"Attending mandatory state functions isn't having fun."

"That's not true. Dinner the other night was some of the best food I've ever had."

"Not according to Finn, who swears by the barbecue plate at the carnival. We should check it out and see for ourselves."

"Is that the same barbecue plate he threw back up while riding the Tilt-A-Whirl?"

Aerrow made a face but didn't comment on that. "Come on, Piper. Junko and Finn have already been twice, and we haven't even gone once."

"And I'm sure they're going again today. Nothing's stopping you from joining them."

"They are, and I could. But it doesn't feel right, going without you."

"Okay," she conceded and allowed him to drag her to the carnival.

They spent the entire day at the carnival, only leaving once it shut down for the night, and she had to admit, she did have a good time. The next day, they flew to Mesa to hang out with Starling and catch the first day of a three-day music festival being hosted there. They went on to attend what the Zeroes called a block party, but that encompassed all of Blizzaris. And then, they visited Xerxxes for the first time after getting a personal invite from Azar. The celebration there had little to do with the defeat of Cyclonia. It just so happened that their annual festival commemorating the start of summer coincided. It was a joyous occasion filled with colour, dancing, and more food than they could reasonably eat. They even managed to fill Junko up, which was no easy feat. At one point, a wizened woman Azar introduced as their grandmother offered him another plate. He had politely declined, but the woman looked so stricken that he immediately apologized and told her that he'd love to take it to go. If anything, that made things worse. "Do you think I would send you away empty-handed?" she asked, sounding deeply offended. Azar stepped in to smooth things over, and soon enough, the woman and Junko were all smiles again. The highlight of the day was a truly epic water balloon fight that began at the height of the afternoon heat and left everyone drenched and laughing.

They returned to Atmosia for the final day of the celebration. There were speeches, a parade, and another early state dinner. They got back to the Condor just before dark, grabbed some blankets, and congregated on the deck of the ship. Spreading out the blankets, they laid down to watch a fireworks show. She shifted closer to Aerrow as the first of the fireworks went off. He extended his arm, allowing her to scooch even closer and rest her head on his shoulder, making it easier to talk over the booming explosions going off above them. "I've had a lot of fun this week," she confessed, smiling at him.

"Toldja," he grinned back.

"Ewww, if you two are gonna cuddle, get a room!"

Aerrow blushed as she felt her own face go red. "Shut up, Finn!" they said in tandem.

"-have any idea how hard it is to plan a surprise party for someone as nosey as Finn?" Piper exclaimed.

Cyclonis, sitting slouched with her cheek resting on her fist, eyes probably glazed over, made a small noise of negation.

She had hoped to get more work on their current project done today, but the conversation had been hijacked within minutes by Piper agonizing over their annoying little blond friend's perfect 16th birthday party. Apparently, he was the last of the Storm Hawks to turn sixteen, and it was A Big Deal. She didn't get it. Her grandmother had never made much of a fuss over birthdays. Her sixteenth would have been important, but for reasons that didn't matter now. If anything, she was relieved. She hadn't been looking forward to turning sixteen.

"You're not being very helpful," Piper complained.

With a sigh, she sat up straighter. "Why does it have to be a surprise?"

"Because Finn likes surprises."

"Is he somehow unaware of when his birthday is?"

Aerrow, sitting with his own chin propped on his fist, stifled a laugh, like he begrudged finding something she said funny.

"Don't you start," Piper said, shooting him a look.

"I've already pointed that out," he told her, ignoring Piper's warning. "We all got a party; he knows he's getting one, too."

"Not if we all pretend that we forgot it was his birthday."

"He's brought it up every day since July started. There's no way he's going to buy that excuse. Besides, we can't keep Junko in the dark, and the moment we tell Junko, it's all over. Finn will get the truth out of him in no time."

"Well, we have to think of something. This is important!"

She scoffed, unable to keep her disdain for all this birthday nonsense hidden any longer, and Piper crossed her arms. "Don't tell me you're too cool for birthdays?"

"I just don't see the point of celebrating the day you were born. It's not your accomplishment. You didn't do anything."

"You're just bitter."

"Am not."

"So if everything that's happened in the past year hadn't happened, you wouldn't have had a birthday party for your sixteenth?" Piper asked skeptically.

"Well," she hedged.

"I knew it!"

"Alright, yes, but only for my sixteenth, and only because it's protocol."

"Protocol. Wow. Cyclonians really do know how to suck the fun out of everything," Aerrow chimed in.

Piper nudged him before asking her. "When is your birthday, anyway?"

"Why?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"I'm just curious. Not everything has to be some closely guarded secret, you know. Besides, I could just look it up."

"So look it up," she shrugged. Piper pinned her with an unimpressed look, and she relented with a sigh. "August 22nd. Are you happy now?"

"I am, thank you," Piper smirked. "So you're the oldest out of all of us, huh? That's funny, for some reason, I always figured you were just a little bit younger than me. Not really sure why I thought that."

She hesitated just a moment before nodding. If Piper thought she had turned sixteen last year, she was happy to let her continue to do so. She didn't even notice the pause.

But someone had.

"No way!" Aerrow said as he grinned incredulously. "You're not sixteen yet, are you?"

She frowned at him, feeling oddly insulted by his tone. "So?" she asked, not bothering to deny it.

"So," he drawled, his grin turning cheeky as he looked expectantly at Piper, waiting for her to catch up.

"No way!" Piper exclaimed with the same level of incredulity as Aerrow. "You're younger than Finn! How are you younger than Finn? Finn's Finn! And you're you!"

"What an astute observation," she bit out.

"What I mean is that I never would have guessed it," Piper grinned. "You're way less immature than him."

Her frown deepened into a scowl. Piper's choice of words wasn't lost on her. Nor was it meant to be if Piper's widening grin at her reaction was any indication.

"So tell us more about what was supposed to happen on your sixteenth birthday."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I thought we were supposed to be talking about your idiot archer's birthday."

"Well, that was clearly boring you, so we've moved on."

"This subject bores me, too, so let's move on again."

"I bet it would have involved some kind of archaic rite of passage," Piper guessed, sounding only half serious.

"Something like that," she agreed.

"Like what? Hunting and killing a sky shark armed with nothing but a primitive harpoon?" Aerrow smirked, looking suspiciously like he was picturing all the ways such a hunt might go horribly wrong.

"Consuming the still beating heart of my greatest enemy," she deadpanned, leaning forward towards him.

"All joking aside," Piper began, and she interrupted her.

"What makes you think I'm joking?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "I know when you're joking. Most of the time, anyway."

She gave a short laugh. "Fine. Sixteen is when members of my family have their betrothal formally announced."

"What?" Piper frowned, looking surprised. "That's really young to be thinking about marriage."

She shrugged. "The actual wedding wouldn't happen for another two years, at the earliest. And it's better than the old tradition."

"Which was?"

"Marriages used to be arranged as early as infancy."

"Gross," Aerrow said.

"It helped secure savvy political matches."

"How can you sound so casual about that? What if that's how things still worked? You'd have just gone along with it?" Piper asked.

"Yes."

Was that really such a surprise? She'd unflinchingly walked the path her grandmother laid out before her in every other regard until the Storm Hawks blew it up. Why would they think that this would be any different?

"What if you got paired off with Snipe?" Aerrow suggested, sounding like he instantly regretted putting that image into his own head.

"That would never have happened," she said, easily dismissing such an absurd idea.

"How do you know?"

"His family's terras have been solidly allied with mine forever. And while they do…did enjoy particularly high standing within the Empire, Ravess was the first-born and inherited much more than Snipe did. Because of all that, I would have had nothing to gain from a union with him, so my family would never have pursued one."

"Gross," Aerrow reiterated. "You still could have ended up with someone just as bad."

"Perhaps. But as I said, that was an old tradition. We have more of a say over who we marry nowadays."

"So, who would you have chosen?" Piper asked. "Anyone we know?"

She shrugged.

"Come on, you had to have had someone in mind! You only had like a year left to figure it out when…." She trailed off with an almost apologetic grimace.

"Yeah. So whether I had someone in mind or not, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

The truth was that she hadn't had anyone in mind. Not really. It wasn't for lack of options. There were several young Cyclonian noblemen with whom she could have struck a suitable match. And some who were not so young but still (or once again) single. The problem was that she felt nothing for any of them. Not that feelings really mattered. Finding a spouse was, first and foremost, a business transaction. A means of securing the next generation of the family, at the very least. Still, she thought feelings would be nice to have. She knew that her parents had been lucky enough to love each other. And while finding someone to love had felt increasingly unlikely to her, she hoped she could at least find someone she could be friends with. But as it turned out, she wasn't very good at making friends, either.

She had come up with a backup plan, though. Had she won the war and had she still not found a prospective partner by this late hour, she would have propositioned Ace. That likely would have raised a few eyebrows among the staunch traditionalists, given that he wasn't from one of the old Cyclonian families. Nor would a union between them strengthen ties between Cyclonia and any other terras, which would have made up for his lack of Cyclonian blood. Still, he was nobility and held significant rank and status on Cyclonia, so while there might have been some grumbling, she was sure there wouldn't have been any outright opposition. Plus, she liked his company, he was intelligent and capable, and he wasn't unappealing to look at. And she did not doubt that they'd produce exceptional children. She was confident that she would have found an arrangement between them to be tolerable.

"I guess it doesn't," Piper conceded. "I'm sorry," she said, sounding sad, like it hadn't occurred to her before that there was more than just world domination and crystal experimentation that Cyclonis would miss out on by being stuck in here. Like a husband. A family.

"I'm not," she said. That was the truth. So why, as she sat here looking into Piper's sorrowful eyes, did it feel like a lie?

The maybe-lie stuck with her, intrusive thoughts popping into her head at random hours of the day, refusing to leave her alone, like an itch she couldn't scratch. It was particularly bad during her visitations with the Storm Hawks, Piper's presence a reminder of her claim that she wasn't sorry that she'd never get to start a family.

By the time her birthday rolled around, she was starting to think that she had been wrong. Maybe she did crave a level of companionship that the few platonic relationships she had just didn't satisfy. That was a problem. This place didn't afford her many options or opportunities to pursue a romantic relationship.

Except she did still have her backup plan. And it was a quiet evening.

Snipe was already asleep in his cell, Ravess was playing her violin, and the guards had just completed rounds and settled down to play some cards. They wouldn't come back around again until it was time for the count and to lock them in for the night.

She made her way next door to Ace's cell, determined to discover just how viable this backup plan of hers was. She shoved her hands into her pockets to hide their slight tremble. She felt jittery and too hot, but she could chalk that up to the evening heat. Zartaclan summers were miserable. The sun was oppressive, and the nights weren't much better. The cacophony of thousands of cicadas plagued their days, their buzzing reminding her of malfunctioning energy crystals. It set her teeth on edge, the irrational part of her brain bracing against an explosion that never came. Then the sun would set, the cicadas would quiet, and bloodthirsty mosquitoes would emerge from the woods. Luckily they were usually finished with their work by that point. But sometimes, when the midday sun was particularly punishing, they'd hide in the shade cast by the half-finished sandbag wall and wait for the worst of it to pass. On those days, they'd be out past nightfall, and the biting insects would make a meal of them.

Ace sat on his cot, barefoot and shirtless. He had the top of his jumpsuit pulled down, the sleeves tied around his waist. They'd all taken to wearing their uniforms like that at least some of the time. It was one of the only measures they could take against the summer heat, and while it was technically a dress code violation, most of the guards didn't bother to issue citations over it. Still, she was ambivalent toward wearing hers that way. It made her think of whipping posts and leather straps. Most of the time, she settled for undoing the top couple of buttons of her jumpsuit and rolling up her sleeves. It wasn't as cool, but she could breathe easier, so it was a wash. She only resorted to the other style on the hottest, stillest days.

When Ace saw her, he dragged his discarded undershirt toward himself and pulled it on before nodding an invitation. Stepping into his cell, she couldn't help but smirk just a little. "I've seen you without your shirt before."

"Better to avoid accusations of impropriety," he shrugged.

He wasn't wrong. Fraternization was one of the highest-level nonviolent rule violations in the handbook. If caught, it would land you in solitary. If a guard was involved, it was grounds for dismissal. But what was she even here for, if not to engage in a little impropriety? A quick glance out the door confirmed that the guards were still absorbed in their game and Ravess in her music.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she strode over to him until she was so close that she had to stand straddling his legs. Grabbing a fistful of his undershirt, she leaned in and kissed him. She wasn't sure she was doing it right. It was rough and lacked finesse, and he wasn't kissing her back, but all she cared about was seeing if this would finally quiet all the nagging thoughts in her head. Then it ended as abruptly as it began when he jerked to his feet, causing her to stumble backwards. In the second it took her to regain her balance, he had put more distance between them and was standing with his hand outstretched as if warding her off.

"What-" he spluttered. "You…what were you thinking…you don't even…." She took a step towards him, and the fingers of his outstretched hand curled into a fist until only his pointer finger remained upright, which he jabbed in her direction. "No!" he said between his teeth, keeping his voice low to not draw unwanted attention from the guards.

He stalked over to the door, poking his head out to glance in both directions before turning back to her. "What the hell, Lark?" he said, voice still quiet but demanding an answer.

She wasn't sure how she had expected him to react to the kiss, but this wasn't it. He was shocked, which she supposed made sense. But he was also clearly appalled, which stung. The vehemence of his rejection made her burn to the tips of her ears. "Let's just pretend that didn't happen. Good night." She gestured for him to remove himself from the doorway so she could make as dignified an exit as possible.

He just stared at her incredulously, not moving. "No," he said after a moment. "I'm not going to pretend that you didn't just pull the most wildly inappropriate-"

"Wildly inappropriate," she muttered with a humourless laugh. One kiss? Why? Because it was technically against the rules?

"Wildly. Inappropriate. Stunt. I know that you're used to taking what you want, but there are times when that is not the right approach. And getting handsy with someone is one of them."

She sighed, some of the hurt and frustration ebbing out of her, though the embarrassment remained. She understood now why he was upset. She had acted without thinking, blindsiding him in the process. There should have been a conversation first. Maybe they would have been on the same page, and the results would have been different.

"You're right, I should have talked to you first."

He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Are you willing to try just one more time? Because-"

"No."

"You're not listening. I need us to try one more time because I didn't feel anything the first time."

"Neither did I."

"Because you weren't reciprocating."

"My not reciprocating isn't why neither of us felt anything. What is this even about?"

"Do you remember where we were supposed to be tonight? Right now? Home, on Cyclonia, attending what would no doubt have been a ridiculously overwrought birthday party. And at the end of the night, I was supposed to announce to the entire world who the future prince consort of the Cyclonian Empire would be."

"I remember. I thought you were dreading that."

"I was," she sighed. "But I know that I shouldn't have been. What's wrong with me?"

He sighed, too, and walked back to the cot, sitting. Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together and nodded to the spot next to him in invitation. She sat, mirroring his posture.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said firmly. "And I still don't understand what this has to do with you kissing me."

For a moment, she considered not answering. Or lying. But as she glanced at him, she decided he deserved the truth. "I thought it could be you."

"Me?" he asked, the incredulity back in full force. "You were going to ask me to marry you?"

She laughed self-consciously. "Why not? I needed a husband, and you were really the only guy who I could stand the thought of in that role."

"I wouldn't have said yes."

"You wouldn't have said no," she scoffed.

"You say that with far too much confidence. I absolutely would have. I'm too old for you."

"Seriously? That's your reasoning? There have been much wider age gaps between the Master of Cyclonia and their consort before, trust me. No one would care."

"I'd care. I've known you since you were four! You're like my baby sister."

She made a face at that. When he put it that way, it did sound pretty gross. Still…

"You really would have said no? You'd make me choose some boy I barely know, who would probably be stupider, uglier, shorter, and a much worse fighter than you because you couldn't get past a little age difference? Pathetic. We wouldn't even have gotten married right away. We could have waited until I was in my mid-twenties."

"Are you trying to simultaneously flatter and bully me into telling you that I would have said yes?"

"Is it working?"

"No."

"Unbelievable. Do you know how much power you could have wielded as prince consort?"

"Bribery won't work, either, but I commend your efforts."

"You're just saying this because it's irrelevant now. You wouldn't have let me down."

"What I would have done was remind you that you were the Master of Cyclonia and that, as such, you made the rules. If you didn't want a husband, you didn't have to have one. You could have simply adopted an heir. In fact, I remember suggesting all this to you once already, back when it wasn't irrelevant."

"But I do want one. At least, I think I do. I've given this matter a lot of consideration lately, and I feel this…I don't know…longing? For something. Something more than just this," she said, gesturing between them. "That's why I kissed you. I was hoping that it would make the feeling that something's missing go away."

"But it didn't."

"No," she said, growling in frustration. "You say there's nothing wrong with me, but how can that be? You're my oldest and best friend. If I can't make myself love you, then that's it, right? I'm obviously incapable of loving anyone." A faint tremble had crept into her voice, and she paused, swallowing against the lump in her throat. "I'm broken."

He regarded her seriously for what felt like an uncomfortably long time before sighing. "Anarchis really did a number on you."

"I don't think I can blame her for this," she said, even though it would make her feel better about herself if she could.

He shook his head, a slightly bewildered look on his face. "For two years now, I've been dropping hints to let you know that you can confide in me whenever you're ready, thinking that you were just being coy about your proclivities, and all this time, you've actually had no idea. Subtlety clearly hasn't worked, so I'll just spell it out." He turned to face her fully, sitting cross-legged on the cot. "Look at me."

She turned so that she was facing him, frowning slightly over his claim that she needed something 'spelled out' for her. It was an insult to her intelligence. He read the look and smirked.

"You're very smart here, no one can deny that," he said, pointing to his temple. "Here?" he continued, pressing his hand to his chest. "Could use some work."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm leaving," she said unseriously, making a half-hearted attempt to stand. He caught her by the sleeve, pulling her back.

"You're not broken," he told her once she was settled. "And you're not incapable of love. You just haven't been looking for it in the right place. Do you remember that friend you had until you were around five or six?"
She'd never had many friends, so it was easy to remember the few she did have throughout the years, and one in particular stuck out above the rest. She'd been quite taken with Prinia, the daughter of the governor of Terra Bluff, right from the start. Prinia's grandmother, Adelaide, was a close confidante of Anarchis', and a frequent visitor to Cyclonia. Shortly after her father's death, Anarchis suggested that she bring her granddaughter along during their next visit. It would keep her occupied so that the adults could talk in peace. Adelaide had obliged, and she and Prinia had hit it off immediately.

In the few years that their relationship had been allowed to blossom, she came to think of Prinia as her best friend. She was funny and smart and a little bit of a daredevil. And very pretty. She'd told her so once and got a matter-of-fact "Thank you, I know" in return. Her dark hair, which she claimed had never been cut, was kept tamed by a braid that reached all the way down to her waist by the time of their last visit. Her skin practically glowed in the light, like honey, and her eyes were cartoon ice blue. But what she remembered most was how excited she felt every time her grandmother told her she was coming to visit and how happy she was to see her once she got there. That was especially true in those early days when the loss of her father was still raw and before she'd warmed up to Ace and him to her. There weren't many things that made her happy back then. But Prinia did.

So, of course, it couldn't last.

They had been playing one day when, apropos of nothing, her six-year-old brain decided that she needed to prove to Prinia that she was her absolute best friend forever and always. So naturally, she asked her to marry her. Prinia had grinned her biggest grin and said she thought she'd never ask. They agreed they were too young to get married right then, so they'd wait until they were thirteen. They'd sealed the deal with a pinky promise.

"What's all this, then?" Adelaide's voice cut in right as they were completing their promise, and they turned to see their grandmothers, who, unbeknownst to them, had watched the entire scene play out. Smiles and light laughter accompanied the retelling of the event, and Adelaide had even playfully rebuked her for not asking Prinia's parents for their blessing but followed it up by saying that she suspected they'd forgive her since it meant their daughter would be marrying into royalty.

But then Adelaide looked to Anarchis, and her smile faltered, and she spoke as if responding to a comment that Anarchis hadn't made. "They're children. It doesn't mean anything." Anarchis' answering smile didn't reach her eyes. But then, her smiles rarely ever did. Adelaide looked back down to Prinia, "We're leaving, say your goodbyes."

Prinia threw her arms around her in a tight hug, and she hugged her back. Then, boldly, she kissed her on the cheek. They were betrothed now, after all. Prinia's giggle almost drowned out Adelaide's sigh. When they broke apart, she noticed that her grandmother wasn't smiling anymore, and Adelaide's smile looked sad. Adelaide chucked her under the chin, wished them both a good evening, then took Prinia by the hand and led her off to the hangar bays.

"You're all dusty," Anarchis said once they were out of sight. "What in the world did you two get up to this afternoon? Go get cleaned up, then meet me in the throne room."

She did as she was told, then went to meet her grandmother. Anarchis, never one to beat around the bush, cut straight to the chase. "I do hope that all that back there with Prinia was the two of you playing make-believe."

She frowned in confusion. "When I asked her to marry me? That part was real."

Her grandmother pursed her lips in disapproval. "You're not going to marry Prinia, Lark."

"Why not?"

"Because you're both girls."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing if you're a commoner, which you are not. You have responsibilities. You have to marry someone with whom you can have children. Our bloodline is precariously close to dying out, and that must not be allowed to happen."

"Why can't I have children with Prinia?"

That gave her grandmother pause. "Well, that," she began before clearing her throat, "is a good question, and we will discuss it further when you're older. For now, trust that what I am telling you is true."

"But we pinky swore! Prinia says that's the most seriousest of promises."

"Well then, it sounds like someone needs to be more thoughtful about the promises they make going forward, doesn't it? You're too young to be worrying about such things, anyway. When the time comes, we'll find you a nice boy who I'm sure you'll like so much more than Prinia."

"A boy?" she exclaimed in horror and disgust. "Boys are gross! I'm never going to like a boy more than Prinia! She's the best person in all the Atmos, and I love her, and I'm going to marry her!"

Anarchis stood abruptly from her throne, radiating the same dangerous aura that had cowed countless people who had found themselves on the receiving end of it before. Coming closer, she frowned down at her. "You love her?" she said derisively. "You don't even know what that means yet. And even were that true, it doesn't matter. I don't care if you love the man you marry or not. It's irrelevant. You have a duty to this family and to the Empire, and you will fulfill it. That is all that matters."

"No! I don't care about any of that!"

Anarchis' hand shot out, striking her across the face. She'd never hit her before (nor would she again), and the shock of it left her stupefied. Anarchis grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at her. "I would suggest you start caring," she stated coldly before releasing her and retaking her seat. "You've left me no choice. You will not see that girl again. I will be sending word to Adelaide, Prinia is no longer welcome here. We'll simply have to find you a more suitable playmate."

"You can't!" she sobbed. The shock had worn off, and the tears had begun.

"I'm sorry," Anarchis said, not sounding sorry at all. "If you cannot make good choices, good choices will have to be made for you." That just made her cry harder, which caused her grandmother to frown. "Compose yourself. You're unharmed, and this is no way to comport yourself in public." When that didn't work, she sighed. "Go to your room. I'll come to collect you for dinner once you've calmed yourself."

She had run all the way back to her room, slammed the door, and refused to come out for dinner.

Her grandmother had been true to her word. She hadn't seen Prinia again, at least not for many years. She'd caught sight of her at Anarchis' funeral but had neither the time nor the inclination to try talking to her then. She had seen her once more after she became Master Cyclonis during a visit to Terra Bluff to conduct some business with her father. She had spoken with her then, briefly. But whatever they once had just wasn't there anymore. Too much time had passed, and they were different people. She was a different person. That was fine. She hadn't any time for friends, anyway. She had a world to conquer.

In the years between losing Prinia and losing her grandmother, a small handful of 'friends' had come and gone. Most of them, unsurprisingly, had been boys. The prevailing emotion she had felt toward all of them had been indifference. At first, she was content enough to wile away an afternoon with them. But as she got older and more into her crystals and her experiments, she lost interest in spending time with them. She just never connected with anyone like she had Prinia. Not until….

She shook her head, pulling herself out of her reverie.

"Prinia, yes, I remember. What about her?"

"You had quite the crush on her, as I recall," Ace said.

She snorted. "We were children. It didn't mean anything."

"Didn't it? You were inconsolable for days when your grandmother broke off the friendship."

"I was a dramatic kid," she shrugged. "I didn't love her, I know that now."

"Of course not, you were six. Prinia's not the point. She was just your first crush. But she wasn't your last."

She narrowed her eyes. "I haven't had any crushes since then."

He outright laughed at that. "Be honest with yourself."

"I don't like girls."

"Who said anything about your second crush being a girl?"

"I know what you're implying! Or rather, who you're implying."

"Your grandmother is dead. You're not the Master of Cyclonia anymore. You have nothing left to prove. It's okay to be yourself, you know."

"I know that," she said irritably.

"Do you?"

She frowned. Her liking girls would explain a lot. Still….

"But a Storm Hawk?" she exclaimed. "After everything they've done to us, you think I have a crush on a Storm Hawk? It's preposterous. She's the whole reason we're in here!"

"Has that stopped you from befriending her?"

"We're not friends."

"Of course, my mistake. Has that stopped you from working with her in a professional capacity that doesn't veer into friendship territory at all?"

"Now you're just making fun."

"A little, but you deserve it when you say ridiculous things that we both know are lies. I know this is hard for you because you like things to fit into nice, neat, logical little boxes. But the heart is not a rational thing."

"What am I supposed to do with this information? Even if I did like Piper, and I'm not saying I do, what's the point? We can't pursue anything. So why are you even making me think about this?"

"Because I want you to understand that you're not broken."

She smiled a little.

"And now we can pretend like that kiss never happened."

Her smile turned wry, and she nodded. "Deal."

"What's this?" she asked as Piper slid a small, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper across the table toward her.

"A slightly belated birthday present."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to get you something."

"Why?"

"Because that's what friends do."

"You think we're friends?"

"I think we could be. Don't you?"

Hesitantly, she picked up the package. "I can't exactly reciprocate, you know," she pointed out.

"That's okay. I accept people being nice to me in lieu of gifts," Piper smirked.

Carefully, she unwrapped the package to reveal a book. She glanced at the title, then back up at Piper with a sardonically raised eyebrow. "Poetry?"

"Yeah, I know, you're not a fiction fan. But you're gonna like this, trust me. There's nothing silly or frivolous in there. It's not a collection of love sonnets. It's actually pretty cool and experimental. A lot of the poems make you sit with them and really dig through layers of subtext to figure out their meaning. And some are just downright dark. It's right up your alley."

"Thanks," she said, meaning it. Leave it to Piper to track down the most mentally stimulating book of poetry she could find.

"Don't thank her until after the pop quiz," Aerrow quipped, surprising her. Aerrow's jokes, when he made them at all, almost always targeted her, not Piper. Was he actually starting to loosen up?

"Me trying to engage someone in conversation only feels like a pop quiz when they didn't actually read the book they said they did," Piper jabbed back good-naturedly.

Aerrow held up his hands with a kid-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar grin as the guard by the door walked over and beckoned for her to hand over the book. She did so, and he rifled through the pages. "We're the last people who are gonna try slipping her a tiny rock pick in a hollowed-out book," Aerrow pointed out.

The guard smirked. "Protocol," he said, handing her back the book. "Anyway, time's up."

The Storm Hawks left, and she went back to her cell. As she passed by Ace, he noticed the book and smirked. "Did your girlfriend give you that?"

"Are you planning on being this insufferable all the time from now on?"

"Not really. Just curious how it feels hearing it."

She rolled her eyes and continued to her cell without answering him. Sitting, she leaned back against the wall, hugging the book to her chest as she mulled over his question. How did it feel to hear him call Piper her girlfriend? Honestly? It felt nice. It didn't feel true, of course, because it could never be true. But it did feel nice.

That first year of incarceration, she discovered, was the worst. The bitter taste of her defeat had been fresh in her mouth. The truths she had learned about herself, her family, and her people had been hard to accept. With her connection to crystals so brutally and effectively severed, the strict routine that was not her own, the power struggle Mr. Moss had manufactured between them just so he could wear her down, the early awkwardness of having to meet regularly with the Storm Hawks, the chronic boredom, the meaningless manual labour she was forced to engage in…each new and humiliating experience further drove home just how powerless she had become. She may not have physically scratched tally marks onto the walls of her cell to count the days, but each one was still indelibly etched into her mind. It had been torture, no rack or thumb screws needed.

Then, sometime in the middle of the second year, she realized that everything had started to feel…normal. She'd adjusted to life without the crystals she had begun to over-rely on. Mr. Moss had grown bored of antagonizing her, and while their relationship wasn't friendly, it was no longer tainted by a constant undercurrent of animosity. The manual labour was still pointless, and she wished Mr. Moss would relent and give them something actually meaningful to do, but it no longer felt as hard as it once had. What had started out taking them ten, sometimes even twelve hours to complete now consistently took them only eight. She could admit (if still only to herself) that she enjoyed Piper's company during their bimonthly visits, as well as the work that they were accomplishing together. And shortly after her sixteenth birthday, she'd finally, tentatively, sent a letter to Captain Swift via the Storm Hawks, like he had encouraged her to do all those months ago. She didn't write to vent about Mr. Moss or the conditions on Zartacla, however. She just put down her thoughts about current events that she didn't feel like sharing with Ace or Piper. She was still a frequent listener of Gwen Peck's show, which reaired each day's episode in the evenings so she could usually catch it during the free time they had between dinner and lights out. And most of the unit guards were happy enough to let her have a look at the daily newspaper once they were done with it. So she kept well apprised of what was going on out in the world. Then, at the end of the letter, she'd inquired about his family to be polite. She'd felt stupid after sending it off. He didn't really want to hear from her. What was she thinking? But he'd written her back, and they had ended up being penpals ever since.

Life was, if not good, then at least not all bad.

It was after Piper finished telling her about how big a success the full-scale prototype of their vapour mill had been on Terra Mesa and how much interest it had drummed up amongst other arid terras throughout the Atmos that she suggested they start working on one of the more ambitious projects.

"Which one did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe the one in notebook three that looks like the Storm Engine?"

"You mean the one you labelled 'The Anti-Storm Engine'?" Piper grinned.

"I'm not creative when it comes to naming things, alright? But yes, that one."

"It is an intriguing idea. A machine that can offer an entire terra the same level of elemental protection as the Aurora Stone itself! Ambitious is putting it lightly. How do we even begin to power such a thing?"

"I don't know yet, that's what we need to figure out. Or are you not up to the challenge?"

"Oh, I'm always up to the challenge," Piper said, and they grinned at each other.

Thus began the most rigorous and intensive research and development project either of them had ever undertaken. It was months before they had a conceptually sound crystal combo that could be used to power their machine, which is when they ran into an even bigger snag. Funding. Their Anti-Storm Engine prototype (they really needed to work on that name) was going to be very expensive to build.

Piper, undeterred, had set out to write a grant proposal, submitting it to the few foundations throughout the Atmos she thought would show the most interest in the project. About a month later, she announced the good news.

"The Atmosian Academy of Crystal Tech wants me to come in and give a presentation on the ASE! If it passes proof of concept, they're willing to build the prototype!"

"That's great," she said, but one thought kept bothering her throughout the visit. When it was time for the Storm Hawks to go, she asked Piper to hang back for a minute while Aerrow went on ahead.

"When you give your presentation, keep my name out of it."

"What happened to 'I'm not interested in helping if you're just going to steal my ideas and take all the credit'?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was angry when I said that."

"I know. But you weren't wrong. This started as your idea, and we've both put a lot of time and effort into getting it this far. I can't take all the credit for it."

"Yes, you can, and you will if you want our idea to go any further. No one is going to touch something like this if it has my name attached to it."

"You're being ridiculous. This is a good idea, one that can help a lot of people. Terras that are too inhospitable for people to live on can be completely transformed. There are still refugees languishing in camps who can finally have a real home again! Do you really think anyone would be so petty as to refuse to build this thing just because they know you were involved in its development?"

"Honestly? Yes, I do."

"Well, I don't."

She couldn't quite look Cyclonis in the eye as she was led into the visiting room.

"So," she began as Cyclonis sat, "we've had a slight setback."

"Please tell me you didn't do what I specifically asked you not to do."

"Well…."

"Piper!"

"Before you say 'I told you so', they didn't cite that as the specific reason for rejecting our proposal."

"Of course, they didn't! What excuse did they give you?"

"They said it didn't meet their standards to pass the POC."

"That is such a blatant lie. If someone came to me and gave the presentation you did, I'd fund their project in a heartbeat," Cyclonis said before her eyebrows drew down in a thoughtful frown.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." But now it was Cyclonis who couldn't quite seem to look her in the eye. Before she could question her further, she continued. "Have you heard back from any of the other foundations?"

"Rejection letters from two, radio silence from the third."

Cyclonis sighed and was really quiet for the rest of the visit. As it got closer to the end of their time, she seemed to reach some kind of decision. "I need you to do something, and I need you not to ask any questions."

"That sounds ominous."

"There's a crystal I need you to recreate. Assuming you don't already have the original?"

"What's it look like?"

"Cylindrical, red, etched with the Cyclonian raven on one end and a 'C' on the other."

"That doesn't sound familiar."

"I didn't think it would, or else you would have asked me about it already. I can write down the formulae for you. You'll need to bring it and a needle to me at our next visit."

Alarm bells went off in her head. "You want me to bring you a crystal? What does it do?"

"I specifically asked you not to ask any questions."

"And I said that sounds ominous."

"Yeah, you can't be serious. We're not doing that," Aerrow chimed in.

Cyclonis sighed. "The crystal doesn't do anything dangerous and won't help me escape."

"We need more to go on than that."

"It will help us get the ASE built, that's all you need to know. I just need to activate it, then I'll give it right back to you. You'll take it, along with a note I give you, to The Colonel. He'll take care of the rest."

"This is all sounding very illegal," Aerrow said.

"It's not illegal. And it will be well worth your efforts."

"If it's not illegal, why are you being so secretive?" she asked.

"You're really bad at not asking questions. Do you want to build ASE or not?"

"Fine. Write down the formulae."

"Burn this after you're done with it," Cyclonis said as she jotted down the formulae. "And don't mention it to anyone else. Ever."

What the hell had she just agreed to?

"This crystal doesn't do anything. And it doesn't look like how you described it." Indeed, the only resemblance the crystal she held bore to the description Cyclonis had given her was that they were both cylindrical. "Are you sure the formulae you gave me was correct?"

"It's correct," Cyclois confirmed, holding her hand out for the crystal.

"Try anything, and you'll wish you hadn't," Aerrow warned Cyclonis.

"What could I possibly do with an inert crystal?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put anything past you."

With some trepidation, she handed the crystal to Cyclonis.

"Did you bring the needle I asked for?"

She held up the needle. Cyclonis reached for it, but she pulled it away. With a sigh, Cyclonis held her pointer finger out to her. She pricked the offered finger, assuming that that was what she was supposed to do. If it wasn't, then maybe a throbbing finger would teach Cyclonis not to be so cryptic in the future.

A bead of blood welled up from the tiny puncture wound, and Cyclonis smeared it on one end of the crystal before massaging a second bead of blood out of her finger and smearing it on the other end. Then she set the crystal down on the table between them.

Piper watched carefully, ready to step in and shut things down if this all turned out to be some sort of trap. She'd feel really stupid for going along with this if it was. After all, if someone had told her two years ago that she'd one day help Cyclonis perform an arcane blood ritual, she'd have called them crazy. She just hoped she wasn't the crazy one for trusting the other girl now.

Cyclonis' blood seemed to seep into the crystal itself, spiderweb-thin tendrils creeping into its very core. There was a dull flash, and the crystal began to glow red. The tendrils, a darker red than the crystal's glow, withdrew back to the ends of the crystal, coming together to form symbols. On one end, the Cyclonian raven. On the other, an ornate 'C'.

Cyclonis pulled a sealed letter out of her pocket and passed it over to her. "Take that and the crystal to The Colonel, then follow whatever instructions he gives you."

"What's the letter say?"

"You're asking questions again."

"Ugh, fine. But you'd better not be sending us on a wild goose chase."

"Fun as that sounds, I promise you I'm not."

"Storm Hawks. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" the Colonel asked with a sharp-toothed smile. Aerrow frowned. He didn't like any of this. He didn't trust Cyclonis nearly as much as Piper seemed to. Yeah, it seemed like she was trying to be better, but was she really? It was still way too early to be sure, as far as he was concerned. As for the Colonel, he didn't trust him at all. The only reason he was going along with this was for Piper.

"We're here on business," Aerrow answered as Piper held out the crystal and letter. The Colonel's eyes widened, and his smile turned speculative as he took them.

"Fascinating. Where did you get this?" he asked, holding up the crystal.

"The letter should explain everything," Piper told him.

He opened the letter and read through it, chuckling by the time he reached the end. "What an unexpected benefactor for ones such as yourselves."

"Benefactor?"

The Colonel tilted his head in affirmation. "Assuming, of course, that this is legitimate. I will have to authenticate the crystal and the letter before we can proceed. Please, make yourselves at home. I will return shortly."

The Colonel disappeared somewhere deeper into the compound as he and Piper sat on a sofa to wait. Two of the Colonel's goons stood nearby, watching them. The other two had gone with their boss.

"I don't like this," he told Piper.

"Aren't you at least a little curious to find out where this is going?"

"Well, yeah. But I still don't like it."

"It'll be fine," Piper said, but she didn't sound certain of that at all.

The Colonel returned a little while later. "The crystal is a replica. A very good one, but a replica all the same…"

"I know," Piper confessed. "I helped Cy-"

"Tch, tch, tch, my clients and I prefer not to name any names," the Colonel interrupted.

"Seriously?" he asked. "I mean, didn't the crystal make it kinda obvious who the 'client' is?"

"Which is why we don't need to involve any names," the Colonel replied smoothly.

"Okay, well, your client and I had to make a new one," Piper said.

"And why is that?"

"The original was lost…to the place…during the thing," Piper told the Colonel with a wink. "I think I'm getting the hang of this," she said to Aerrow as she leaned in closer to him.

"Lost to the Wastelands during the Fall of Cyclonia, yes, so the letter stated."

"What?" Piper exclaimed. "Are we supposed to talk in code here or not?"

"That isn't necessary. Luckily for you, I was able to verify that the letter, at least, is authentic. And your stories match."

The Colonel held out a new sealed letter. "You will deliver this letter for me. But you can't go dressed like that."

"Why not?" he asked suspiciously.

"If you go looking like Sky Knights, you'll never find the place you are looking for."

"What about The Condor? It's pretty recognizable no matter what we're wearing."

"You'll take one of my ships. The Condor will remain here. A little insurance policy to make sure you return with everything you are supposed to return with."

"This is really sketchy," he told Piper after pulling her aside. "What has she roped us into? Stork is gonna lose his mind when he hears this plan."

"Your pilot, along with the rest of your squadron, will remain here as well. The letter only names the two of you, so you are the only ones who will be going."

"Neither of us has a pilot's license."

"You're in luck. Giovani here will pilot the ship," the Colonel said, motioning to one of his men. "He'll also find you more appropriate attire before you go."

Four hours later, they were sitting in a corner booth, in a bar, on some dusty terra whose name no one could seem to agree upon. They were dressed like a couple of the Colonel's flunkies, and golden spider medallions hung around their necks. He felt incredibly self-conscious.

About ten minutes after their arrival, someone slid into the booth with them. He was a small, mousy-looking man who wouldn't get a second glance from anyone out on the streets.

"Get a load of you two," he laughed. "You look like a coupla kids playing dress-up outta your favourite uncle's closet."

"Look, we don't mean to be rude, but we're waiting for someone."

"I figured. Can I buy you a drink while you wait?"

Oh. Right. Giovani had told them what phrase to listen for and how to respond when he'd directed them where to go.

"It's not even five o'clock?" he answered uncertainly.

"You sure about that, kid?" the man asked, checking his watch. It was gold with a spider emblem etched onto the face. "Well, whaddya know? You're right. Why don't you tuck those away now and follow me."

They hid their medallions under their shirts and followed the man through twisting streets. That was until they were grabbed from behind, and bags were flung over their heads. He struggled against his captor as he grated out, "Piper…if we survive this, I'm gonna kill her!"

"If you wanna survive, stop struggling," a gruff voice told him as something sharp was pressed against his lower back.

He was guided onto a skimmer before his captor settled in behind him and started it up. The drive was deliberately disorienting, with lots of twists and turns he couldn't keep track of, though he tried. Finally, they stopped. He was helped off of the skimmer, and after a short walk, the bag was pulled off of his head. They were in what appeared to be an abandoned building, judging by its derelict condition and the boarded-up windows.

"Okay, none of this feels like it's not illegal!" Piper blurted out as the bag was removed from her head, which drew a chorus of snickers from their assailants. In addition to their guide, they were now accompanied by a brawny man with an electric blue buzzcut and a tall, wiry female from Bogaton.

"So what have you got for us?"

Aerrow fished the sealed envelope out of his pocket and handed it to the mousy guy. The man opened and read the letter before letting out a long, low whistle. The other two crowded around him to read the letter over his shoulder, and their eyes widened, too. "Just who are you guys?" the man asked before shaking his head and backtracking. "Sorry, I know better than to ask. Don't tell him I asked! Or her. Don't tell anybody I asked!"

"We won't, so long as this goes how it's supposed to," Piper answered for them.

"Okay, sure, yeah. No problem. I'll be right back," the man answered before running off somewhere.

A half hour's worth of awkward small talk later, the man was back, handing them yet another sealed envelope. "Take that back with you, and don't lose it! You lose it, we're gonna find out who you are, we're gonna track you down, and we're gonna kill you. Okay?"

Aerrow's first instinct was to tell them that they were welcome to try. But he was smart enough to squash that urge. "Okay," he said instead.

"Great!" the man said with a smile. He nodded, and the bags were tossed back over their heads.

Hours later, they were back at the Colonel's compound, handing over the envelope. The Colonel opened it and smiled at whatever he found inside. "Excellent, excellent. You did well, Storm Hawks. You may take your ship and go."

"Wait a minute! Aren't we supposed to get something in return?"

"Your ship and your crew, yes. I have already given it."

He gawked at the Colonel, who maintained his composure just long enough for Aerrow to start getting really pissed off before bursting into laughter. "Relax. This thing you have asked for cannot be done in a day. When do you see your benefactor next?"

"You keep calling her that, but I don't see anything beneficial about-"

Piper cut him off with an elbow to the ribs and answered. "Almost two weeks."

"Very good. That's more than enough time to make the proper arrangements. You'll find what you seek at your next meeting. And please do send her my regards." He studied them a moment longer before shaking his head with another chuckle. "Strange times really do make for strange bedfellows, do they not? Now go."

"Y'know, I'd feel a lot better about this if we knew what we were seeking," Piper said as they walked back to the Condor.

"I wouldn't. And I'm still gonna kill her."

"Aerrow!"

"What? That definitely qualified as a wild goose chase!"

Cyclonis grinned when she saw Piper and Aerrow. Piper had one of her stern frowns plastered on her face while Aerrow flat-out glared at her. She wished she could have watched them flounder their way through their interaction with the Colonel and his men. He made taking out a withdrawal quite the experience, or so she'd been told. She'd never gone herself. But she'd heard stories from the proxies she had sent on the rare occasions she had had to dip into her family's sizable emergency fund.

"You seem upset," she said lightly as she sat.

"Upset is putting it mildly," Aerrow began. He must really be riled. He was rarely ever the first of them to talk, usually deferring to Piper to lead the conversation. "We were kidnapped, and we don't even have anything to show for it…I'm glad you think this is funny!"

"Don't be so dramatic," she laughed. "You weren't kidnapped. And you didn't walk away empty-handed." She offered him an envelope.

"Uh-uh, nope, no more sealed envelopes. I'm done with this."

She smirked, offering the envelope to Piper instead, who took it. She was about to open it when she paused and fixed her with a suspicious frown. "Where'd you get this?"

"Unimportant," she said. They really were terribly innocent if they didn't realize that the Colonel could smuggle just about anything anywhere he wanted.

Still frowning, Piper opened the envelope and withdrew its contents: a chit and instructions on where and how to cash it in. Her hand flew to her mouth when she read the amount. She looked up at her, then back down to the chit before holding it out to Aerrow so he could see.

He looked shocked, but that quickly turned to suspicion. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"It's not a joke," she assured him.

"Yeah, right! You expect us to believe you have access to this kind of cash? All your assets were seized when you were convicted."

And there it was, the reason she had been hesitant to go through with this plan when she first thought of it. Because the Sky Knight Council had only seized the assets that they knew about. It had felt like a victory at the time, knowing that much of her family's fortune had been kept out of their greedy, grasping hands. It still felt like a victory, if she was being honest. But she knew that Piper wouldn't see it that way. She would see it as selfish and wasteful. She'd say that if she was truly trying to change, she'd surrender her hidden funds to the Council so that it could go towards reparations like it was meant to.

As if all that money would actually be given to that goal. Some of it would, certainly. But she didn't believe for a second that the Council wouldn't line its own pockets first.

This was better. She could control how her money was spent this way. She could make sure it was actually being used to benefit the people who needed it most. She was doing good. That made her feel less guilty when she looked at Piper, and she covered what little guilt remained with sarcasm.

"Pesky punitive fines. If only there was some way to anticipate the possibility of such a catastrophic loss and safeguard yourself against it," she said with exaggerated wistfulness. "But I wouldn't know anything about that. Good thing there are still people out there in the wider Atmos who owe me favours."

"This is one heck of a favour," Piper said with a hint of sarcasm, recovering from her initial shock. "This is enough to fully fund our project! More than enough. What's this extra? To cover taxes or something?"

"You won't be taxed if you know how to keep your mouth shut."

"But the bank-"

"Knows how to be discreet."

"Discreet, huh? You're sure there's nothing illegal about all this?" Piper's sarcasm was back to full force.

She hand waved away Piper's concern about legality. "Consider it your payment for doing all the legwork on this. It must have been very traumatic, getting kidnapped and all." She smirked at Aerrow.

Aerrow glanced back at the chit, his mouth moving silently as he mentally calculated how much was left over after the project's expenses were accounted for. "This is more than the Council pays us in a year."

"Good. Maybe you can get that junk heap you call a ship retrofitted."

"We like the Condor the way it is," Aerrow was quick to defend his ship. "It's not a junk heap."

"If you say so. Do whatever you want with the money, then. It's yours. By the way, the bank will also give you back the crystal you gave The Colonel. I'd like you to hold onto that for me if you don't mind."

"Just how much more money are you hiding from the Council?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. The Council already took it all, remember? I just need you to keep the crystal in case we ever need to call upon the Colonel's assistance again."

"We?" Aerrow said. "There's no 'we' here. This is all really shady, and I don't want to be a part of it."

"That was hurtful. Here I thought we had finally warmed up to each other," she teased him.

"Stop, I'm being serious. We don't want anything to do with your dirty money."

"I'll just take it back, then," she said, holding out her hand.

Piper drew the chit closer to her chest. "Hang on. Let's not forget what this money is for, Aerrow. We can save lives with this."

"And it can still be used to save lives if it's handed over to the Council. The money, the crystal, and any information we can provide the authorities about the Colonel's side business."

"It could," she interrupted them. "But assuming the authorities were to successfully raid the Colonel's operations, which they won't, you'd be making an enemy of him. Not to mention all of his clients."

"We're not afraid of the Colonel!"

She gave him a look that she hoped properly conveyed just how stupid she found that statement.

"Okay, we're a little afraid of him. But we've faced more powerful enemies than him before and won."

"Aerrow, why don't we discuss this later."

"Yeah, Aerrow, let Piper talk some sense into you."

"Shut up, Cyclonis, you're not helping."

She held her hands up in surrender. "Shutting up. I'm sure you'll make the right choice."

"We will," they said in tandem before giving each other uncertain looks. Not long ago, she would have been thrilled to sow seeds of dissent between them, but that really wasn't her intent now. They'd be idiots if they gave that money to the Council, and unfortunately, she knew that they absolutely were that level of idiotic. She had to smooth things over.

"Listen-"

"We thought you were shutting up."

"I lied. Really stop and think about this. I promise you that no amount of digging into the Colonel's business is going to turn up anything that can be used against him. He's too smart for that. If you hand this money over to the Council, all you'll be doing is robbing yourselves. The ASE? Dead in the sky. Your ship retrofit? Never happening."

"We're not retrofitting the Condor."

"Whatever. The point is, I really want you to use this money to finance our project. Do whatever you want with your share. Donate it to whatever charity you like if you really can't stomach the thought of spending it on yourselves. I trust you far more than I trust the Council to use it well."

"Wow. That's the most heartfelt thing I've ever heard you say," Aerrow said.

She shrugged. "Yeah, well…."

"Fine. I'll consider it."

Piper fist pumped, already assured of her victory. "We should stop at Terra Saharr on our way back to Atmosia. They'll have the crystal converters I'll need to get started on the ASE. Then I'll need to consult my maps to find the perfect terra to build and test the prototype on."

She smiled slightly as she listened to Piper go on about her ever-growing To Do list. It was kind of adorable how excited she could get when talking about her work. Judging by the way Aerrow's expression softened as Piper continued to talk, he thought so, too.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. She wondered if she could convince Piper that Aerrow didn't need to tag along with her to every visit. She understood why he had been concerned early on. But now? It wasn't like Piper needed him to protect her here. She didn't need him to protect her at all, for that matter. Piper was more than capable of defending herself.

"You okay?" Piper asked, breaking her train of thought.

"Huh? Yeah."

"Sorry, I got a little carried away. We're almost out of time, and I still need to check the cuffs." She almost sounded apologetic about that last part.

Once that business was taken care of, Piper came around to her side of the table and hugged her. This time, although it was just as unexpected as the last, she had the wherewithal to hug her back. It had been so long since she'd really hugged anyone. She had forgotten how it felt. She was even pretty sure Piper wasn't trying to steal her DNA this time, which made it even better.

"Hey," the guard at the door said warningly.

Piper sighed and stepped away. "We're gonna make this prototype work, and we're gonna change the lives of thousands of people while we're at it," she promised.

"All while making the Atmosian Academy of Crystal Tech rue the day they rejected your proposal," she agreed, and Piper pushed her playfully.

"That's not what this is about."

"I know. But it's a nice bonus."

"I thought we were going to talk about what we were doing with that money," Aerrow said once they were back onboard the Condor. They were right outside her room, and she invited him in, closing the door behind them.

"You seemed pretty on board with keeping it after what Cyclonis said."

"I said I'd think about it."

"Which, for you, is practically the same thing as saying yes. I know you hate admitting that she could be right about something, but she's right about this. The authorities have been trying to nail the Colonel to the wall for years. Decades, probably! Nothing ever sticks."

"So, what?" he asked. He was annoyed, and he didn't even know why. Scratch that, he knew why, he just didn't want to think about it. "We do nothing? Piper, Cyclonis just gave us an obscene amount of money. She gave it away like it was nothing and implied there was more where that came from. She's obviously sitting on a mountain of cash, and for what? It's not like she's doing anything with it. How is that fair?"

"But she is doing something, isn't she? She's funding our build!"

"So if it gets us what we want, it's okay to compromise our morals?"

"When what we want is to help people, and we are, I'm not sure what morals you think are being compromised."

"That money belongs to the Atmosian people. That was part of her punishment! She shouldn't get to sit there and brag about how she pulled one over on the Council."

"Is she not being punished enough already? Aerrow, I get it. She never should have kept that money hidden from the Council in the first place. It was sneaky and wrong of her. But what's done is done. I'm more interested in what's happening now, and that's her choosing to use it to help people. Think about it; we wouldn't even know about the money if she hadn't decided that using it to do good was more important than hiding it from us. That's a huge step!"

"Those people wouldn't even need help if not for her! And do we even know that doing good is her actual motivation? She never told us that! She never told us anything! I know you think you're influencing her to be a better person here, but what if all this time, she's just been influencing you to be worse?"

"Aerrow! Do you really believe that me taking this money makes me a bad person?" she asked in a small, hurt voice.

He immediately felt terrible. "No, of course I don't think you're a bad person," he reassured her gently.

"Then what's this about? What's really bothering you?"

"I don't like the way she looks at you!" he blurted out, feeling stupid now that he had said it out loud. But it was true. It gave him a weird stomach ache just thinking about it.

There was shocked silence between them for a moment, and then-

"You mean the same way you look at me?" she asked with a small smile he couldn't quite decipher the emotion behind.

"I…what?" he said, too flustered to give her a more intelligent response.

"I've noticed."

"Uhhh…"

She looked at him expectantly. He could only stare back with what he hoped wasn't too stupid an expression.

"Does it mean what I think it means?"

"Uhhh…"

She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, her face coming closer to his, and he put a hand up to block her. "Wait, no!"

She blinked and stepped back, her cheeks darkening with embarrassment. "Oh," she said with a nervous laugh. "Sorry. I guess I really misread things."

"You didn't, I just…I kinda wanted to be the one to do that."

He stepped forward and rested his hands on her waist, pulling her closer and lowering his lips to hers. She kissed him back, a gentle press of her lips against his. It was nice. Finn had gone on and on one night about some girl he had met and made out with during one of their trips to Terra Neon. He had talked a lot about teeth and tongues, and it had conjured up gross mental images of Finn trying to eat that poor girl's face. It didn't sound great. But this? This was definitely nice. The butterflies in his stomach doubled, and his heart beat faster.

She broke the kiss, but they stayed close, foreheads pressed together. "I'm not sure that was a good idea," he confessed. That wasn't what he had meant to say, but it was too late to take it back now.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, you're my best friend."

"That doesn't sound like a problem."

"But in the movies, someone's always warning the main character not to get involved with their best friend."

"Did you just call yourself the main character?" she grinned.

"I-no! I mean, I guess I did, but I didn't mean…"

"I'm teasing you," she smiled. "I didn't think you were actually paying attention when we watched those kinds of movies."

"They're not that bad. Junko likes them, too."

She laughed. "I think Junko likes them more than I do, actually. What's your other concern?"

"I'm your Sky Knight."

"Yeah you are," she said, and the way she said it made him laugh.

"What I mean is that I'm technically your commanding officer."

She pulled away from him then so she could look at him fully but kept a hand on his arm. "Yeah, I can understand how that could complicate things. But it's not like we aren't already a family, right? You, me and Finn? Junko? Stork? Radarr? Everyone on this ship already loves you, and that doesn't get in the way of us following your orders."

"It's not the same."

"You don't know that."

"It's not," he insisted. They were quiet for a minute, and then he spoke again. "And then there's the way Cyclonis looks at you."

Piper gave a frustrated half-growl, half-groan and pulled away from him completely. "You can't be serious."

"You said it yourself, you've noticed it, too."

"I'm just not convinced it really means anything. It's not like she's shy about going after what she wants. If that was me, I think we'd know it."

"Now you're the one who can't be serious. She's been after you since the day she met you."

"Not like that. She just wants a friend. Someone her own age who appreciates the same things she does."

He shook his head. He loved Piper, but she was being really thick about this. "I'm not saying you're wrong about that, but also, she definitely has a crush on you." But that wasn't what bothered him. He could handle other people having crushes on Piper. Who wouldn't? She was amazing. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"The way you look back at her sometimes…"

"Are you asking me if I have a crush on Cyclonis?"

"Do you? I mean, you have a lot of the same interests. And she's smart. You like smart people."

"You're smart."

"Not in the same way. And she's cute, I guess. Not my type, but I can appreciate that she's, y'know, good-looking."

"I guess," she said with a shrug, affecting disinterest, but he wasn't fooled.

"Piper, I've seen you check out other girls before. I know when you find one of them attractive."

"Alright, yes, I think she's pretty. When she's not being all smirking and insufferable, anyway."

"Which she's been working on lately," he pointed out. He could give people credit where credit was due.

"She's definitely making an effort."

"So you can see where I'm coming from here, right? There's mutual attraction and common interests, and you guys have been getting along really well lately. Half the time, I feel like I'm invisible during these visits."

"I can't believe we're even having this conversation. I can't believe you think you need to be jealous of Cyclonis. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for you to kiss me?" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"Really?" he perked up.

"Yes! And now you're ruining it by talking about her!"

"I'm sorry! I just really like you. A lot."

"I really like you, too. As for Cyclonis…" She sighed, looking away to gather her thoughts. "Maybe there's a parallel universe out there somewhere where alternate versions of ourselves met under drastically different circumstances. Or a universe that's not that different from ours but where one of us made drastically different choices. Could those people end up together? I'm not going to stand here and pretend it's not possible. But in this universe? With how everything played out? It's a miracle we're even kinda friends now if you think about it. Also, there's the small matter of her being in prison for the rest of her natural life. So no, you really don't have anything to worry about there. Assuming..." she trailed off, looking back at him with an anticipatory smile.

"Assuming?"

"Assuming you want the two of us to be more than just friends."

"Oh! Right! Yes, that is where I was trying to go with all this. So, uhh, when we get back to Atmosia, would you be interested in going out to dinner with me? Just the two of us?"

"Like a date?"

"Like a date," he nodded, grinning.

"I'd like that."

Starling met them upon their return to Atmosia, and they all spent a low-key afternoon together, playing board games and chatting. She let everyone in on the good news that production of the ASE was moving forward, thanks to a private donor who wished to remain anonymous stepping up to fund the project. Starling pinned her with a long, penetrating stare at that news. She just smiled back, determined not to break and spill their secret.

"Congratulations," Starling said once it was clear that Piper wasn't going to say any more on the subject. "That is a very generous donor." She just nodded her agreement.

Evening fell, and Finn piped up. "I'm starving, dudes. What're we doing for dinner?"

"Actually," Aerrow said, "Piper and I already have plans for dinner."

She was watching the others for their reactions, which is the only reason she noticed the surreptitious look that passed between Starling and Stork.

"Cool. Like, you're gonna cook?" Finn asked, not getting it immediately.

"No, like, we're going out. Just the two of us. You guys are on your own for dinner."

"Like a date?" Junko exclaimed, practically clapping his hands in excitement. At their nods of affirmation, he actually did clap.

Starling grinned triumphantly and held out her hand, palm up, toward Stork. Grumbling, Stork dug a wad of cash out of his pocket and started counting out bills. He paused what he was doing to fix her and Aerrow with an intense gaze. "Wait! Who asked who?"

"I asked," Aerrow said.

Smirking, Stork took back a couple of the bills before passing the money over to Starling, who pocketed it.

"Seriously, guys? You're going to do that right in front of us?"

"Yes," Starling said shamelessly. "We've been waiting quite a while to settle that bet."

Finn just looked bewildered.

"Wait, you guys weren't already dating?"

During their next trip to Zartacla, when Cyclonis and Piper got so wrapped up in their conversation that he started feeling like he was disappearing into the background again, he made his move.

When Piper rested her hand on the table, he reached out his own to lay atop it. She turned her palm up, lacing her fingers with his and giving his hand a squeeze. He didn't say a word. There was no break in the conversation. But still, the message was sent.

The corners of Cyclonis' mouth twitched downward briefly as she glanced at their intertwined hands. Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and he grinned at her. She held eye contact with him for just a moment longer before looking back to Piper. She leaned back in her chair as she did so, and there was a subtle but almost immediate shift in her demeanour. Her tone became a bit more professional, the look in her eyes a touch less familiar.

Message received.