Chapter Summary:
The word of the day is 'Family'.
There'd been three civilian casualties in total, not counting the animals. Two adults who'd worked for the little freak show that'd been blown up this evening, and the teenage boy that had been pulled out of one of the wrecked cages.
None of them were the person he was looking for.
When they arrived back at Cyclonia, Dark Ace went straight to his office. It was back to the drawing board on trying to find her again.
Hours later, he was approached in the main hangar by Owler, the head doctor. The old man looked agitated, like he had better places to be. He probably did.
"That boy you brought here is asking for you."
"I'm busy," Dark Ace dismissed, turning his back to the head doctor and looking over the mission manifest he'd been given. "Kid can wait for an autograph, or whatever it is he wants."
He heard the man sigh, likely pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
"Let me rephrase that then. He's asking for Achilles."
Dark Ace about dropped his pen.
"He what?"
"He's asking for you," Owler said gruffly. "Go and talk to him. Soon. He's already bitten three other medics trying to leave the infirmary. And that lemur has crawled into the vents."
Stunned, Dark Ace didn't say anything for a moment.
"Give me ten minutes," he said eventually, "I'll talk to him as soon as I can."
"You'd better. You brought him here, he's your problem to take care of."
Why did this feel like when he'd brought Deo to Cyclonia?
"Alright, alright. Go tell him I'll see him soon. I need to make sure this is taken care of first."
"Tell him yourself. I'm not your errand boy."
Dark Ace rolled his eyes as Owler left the hangar, but the doctor's words troubled him. Hardly anyone remembered that name. Most who did were either dead or sworn to secrecy, only two people had any right to use it anymore. Three, at a push. Yet this random teenager from the freakshow not only knew it but asked for him by that name. He hadn't gotten a good look at the boy's face on the flight back. Who was he?
Red hair…
…Who was he…?
"And you are en route to return the pieces of the Aurora Stone?"
"Yes. I didn't manage to get all of them, but-."
"You didn't?"
Piper quailed, "No. But Knight Viola's cover is still intact so we can-."
"No. You've done enough, Piper. Get the pieces you do have to Atmosia, and go back to looking for your Sky Knight."
"Okay…Oh, um… father?"
"Yes?"
"…I love you."
"I love you too, Piper. Keep up the good work."
From his position at the helm, Stork was pretending not to listen to Piper's little conversation on the radio. It wasn't any of his business what sorts of conversations she had with the intimidating-sounding father she barely talked about. Besides, he had his own things to think about. Not getting back to Atmosia, he could do that blindfolded with his hands tied to his back.
Glowing eyes, clicking mouths. Stork could still feel his hands trembling with the panic of a dozen Nightcrawlers breaking into the Condor. He could still smell their chitinous stench in the walls, despite spending the last hour cleaning off the helm while the cruise controls were working for once. There was a dent in one of the folding chairs they owned from when Ciel had used it as a makeshift shield, and later a weapon. The archer had yet to buff that out, Stork would need to remind him of that.
…One of the Nightcrawlers had hesitated. Nightcrawlers never hesitated, but this one had gone so far as to order its fellows to stop. At the time, Stork hadn't thought much of it and just attacked them with his specialised bug spray, but now…
There was something unsettlingly familiar about that Nightcrawler in particular…
Dark Ace was starting to get a bit too used to waking up in the infirmary. How long had he been unconscious this time? At least he wasn't waking up to chaos and panic this time, the usual sounds of the hospital wing were hushed and muffled behind the curtain separating him from the rest of the patients. Footsteps, the murmur of doctors conferring with each other, Talons grumbling about their aches and pains, the scrape of paper pages being turned.
Slowly, he risked sitting up, only for a sharp pain in his skull to send him back down. So much for that idea.
"I was hoping you'd wake up soon."
Ah. He had company. Very familiar, frightening company at that. A chill ran down his limbs as he turned his head towards the voice.
"Hey, mom," he greeted, wincing when the words rasped against his throat.
Gail Gryphus looked down at him from where she was sat at his bedside, one eyebrow raised and red eyes narrowed in disappointment. She had a book tucked neatly into her lap, clearly she'd been waiting a while for him to wake up.
"Good morning," she said severely, and Dark Ace braced himself for the worst. "What were you thinking?"
"In my defence, the second blackout wasn't my fault."
"Achilles."
"It wasn't," he protested, practically whining.
"You got straight back to work after channelling the most powerful crystal in the Known Atmos. That has to be the most irresponsible thing I've heard you do in a while. And you've gotten into fights with Dawnrunners."
"I'm alive, aren't I?"
"That doesn't make it better," Gail retorted, and Dark Ace – Achilles – knew right away that he'd walked straight into that one. "You can't keep doing this."
"It's my job," Achilles said weakly, more out of habit than any real attempt to argue. He sighed, "I'm sorry."
Gail sighed, "I know." Leaning towards him, she gently ran a hand through his hair to neaten up the tangled bedhead he'd gotten. "But I still worry about you. That's my job."
"I know," he chuckled, an easy smile returning to his lips. "I really didn't mean to take it as far as I did. And that second time with the Storm Engine, I don't…"
He barely remembered anything past walking into the room and seeing that mage girl in the Storm Hawks uniform try gearing up for another fight. Just bright, blinding pain and a feeling like his lungs were being pulled out from under his ribs, the very breath stolen from within them.
"…Are the kids okay?" he asked.
"They're fine. Aerrow got a few bruises, but besides that you were the only one to take a hit. He's worried about you too."
Achilles rolled his eyes, "Of course he is. And the ones that broke into the citadel?"
His stepmother gave him a look, "You're trying to get a status report out of me."
Dammit.
"Mama," he said matter-of-factly, an air of theatrics to his tone, "A team of children managed to get further than any Sky Knight has in a decade. One of them hit me in the face with a sparkler crystal, and compromised a very dangerous machine that put me in danger. Don't I have a right to know what happened to them?"
"If I recall, you were doing very much the same thing at that age."
"I never broke into the Cyclonian citadel though," Achilles pointed out. "I just want to know what we're dealing with. I don't even need to leave the infirmary."
Gail sighed and shook her head. "You're not going to let up, are you?"
"It's that or I worry about it nonstop," he pointed out. "I'm not going to get hurt from reading a few reports, Mom."
"Alright, I get it. Just remember to let yourself rest."
"I will, I promise," Achilles assured her. "This is just to put my mind at ease."
Later, after a check-in from the ever-grumbling head doctor and a few more words with Gail, Dark Ace managed to talk one of the visiting officers into bringing him a report on the incident. Most of it was as he expected. Damage reports, blessedly minimal injuries, a surprisingly optimistic start to an alliance with Terra Xerxxes courtesy of Austry.
He frowned as he got to the part he was most anxious to read. The file wasn't nearly as heavy as the ones he'd received for other squadrons, and at a glance a shocking amount of the information contained within was speculative. He couldn't find a registry date, there was nothing about a Sky Knight, two of the members listed in front of him seemed to have just come out of nowhere. These 'new Storm Hawks' (the gall of the Free Atmos to try this again after what he'd done last time) were apparently an enigma, looking more like rogue operatives than a Sky Knight squadron. Yet somehow they'd pulled the boldest infiltration mission he'd seen in years, and escaped.
- Piper Aniara, 14 – presumed crystal mage. Recent graduate from the sky Knight academy's mage program. Prodigy, currently being scouted for the Raven program.
"I wasn't aware Knight Aniara had more kids," he remarked to the officer who'd brought him the report.
The poor brat, he almost felt bad for her. Almost. He wasn't about to forgive the sparkler to the face just because of a lousy childhood.
"According to the Raven Scouts he's kept her very… sheltered. The girl's been a tough nut to crack for the Fledgeling program."
- Finn Goldthrush, est. 14 – Sky Knight Academy student, no known family. Was sent to the Academy after being caught peddling stolen goods. Records show a gift for marksmanship and a Hawksight mutation. No further background information available
- Ciel Lupus, 14 – Sky Knight Academy student, archery class. Was sent to the Academy after being caught vandalising a public park on Terra Rex. Family could not be located
- Junko [?], 15 – Wallop. Bears a strong resemblance to the missing son of Chief Thragg from Wallop's Stonebreaker clan. Awaiting confirmation of identity.
- Stork [?], 18 – Merb. No official records found. Lieutenant Casaury claims to have recognised him as family.
Squadron has been confirmed to be travelling via the ship known as the Condor, previously believed to have been sunk to the Wastelands ten years ago. Ship was also the subject of numerous 'ghost ship' rumours on the outer ring.
The squadron is currently not registered in Sky Knight Council records and their Sky Knight is unknown. None of the three children who were enrolled in the Sky Knight Academy were part of the Knights programme and have not been recorded as participants in the yearly trials. It is possible that they are a rogue team taking up the mantle of a previously eliminated squadron, or one of the three Academy attendees intends to take part in the upcoming trials in two months.
Observations of this rogue element will continue.
The more he read, the deeper his frown got. He'd seen a lot over the years, but this was strange even by his standards.
"Is that really all there is on them?" he asked, and the officer nodded.
"So far, yes. Even the Academy graduates besides the girl were hard to get anything on."
"I see… Let me know if anything else comes up."
"Of course, sir."
When the officer left, he looked at the dossier pictures for a moment longer before setting the file down and looking up at the air vent above him.
"Get out of the vents, you two," he called out, noting with satisfaction the pair of frustrated chatters he got in response.
A few minutes later, Aerrow was stood at his bedside. Radarr was perched on his shoulder, sulking at being caught in the vents again despite attempts to stay absolutely silent. What could he say? He just had a sense for when two little shits were eavesdropping on him.
Aerrow spoke first. "How're you holding up?" he asked, in heavily accented Cyclonian.
"I'll live. You don't need to worry so much about me."
"I know."
Achilles didn't say anything else for a moment, looking Aerrow and his lemur companion over. The boy had a medical patch over one cheek and Radarr was clinging to him with that tell-tale protective tension that he always got whenever Aerrow was anxious over something.
"What about you?" he asked, "That mage didn't hit you too hard, did she?"
To his surprise, Aerrow scowled at the mention of that.
"No. I'm fine."
Well that was a short answer.
"Alright then," Achilles shrugged and went back to the report. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aerrow not so subtly lean in to look at it too.
"You're mad at them."
Aerrow jumped back in surprise.
"…They hurt you," he muttered.
"I'm sure it wasn't personal. Or even on purpose."
"Still."
"Don't make it personal, kid. That never ends well."
"I won't."
Too late, Achilles wanted to say. It was clear as day that it was already personal. He'd been angry at these faux Storm Hawks before the Storm Engine had gone haywire, he'd seen it in the tail-end of that fight with the girl. Aerrow had been sloppy, driven largely by his emotions.
Instead of pushing though, he offered the squadron file for the pair to read together. They took the in silence and perched in the nearby chair to pour over it.
Achilles left them to it. Dr Owler returned once more to adjust his dose of painkillers, and it wasn't long before the toll of his injuries started to catch up with him again. With Aerrow's muted chatter filling his head, he drifted into restless sleep.
A/N: Yep, this fic gives people parents! Only one each though.
Othello belongs to myself, and Gail is another character belonging to grimm_the_6th.