Aria, I did it because I more than just care. I love you.

You betrayed me, Rye. I don't see how I can ever forgive you for that. I won't ever forget that...

I want you to know, I'll always care for you. I'll always be there when you need me.

Hope against hope,
Feel when not felt,
Love to Love.

The room had couches, tables, chairs, plants, people....and stars. Glass composed half the wall of this large room, and allowed for a brilliant 180 degree view of the welkin outside the station. There was no air pollution, no atmosphere to obscure the view, and she stared for almost thirty seconds before her feet began to move of their own accord, and she found herself at the wall of glass, looking out.

Vertigo seized her for a moment, but she put a hand lightly on Gabe's arm and it passed. Her next impulse was to press herself against the curved glass to see if she could see any further, but she fought that down as well.

There had been no windows in Battle School. None at all. All the walls were far too thick. There had been an observatory on the transport ship that brought them here, but that had all been fake, a holographic mock-up that gave the visual illusion of open space, but no more than that. It was better than an enclosed space, of course, but although his eyes told him they had been looking at the stars, his sense of spatial awareness, of what was around them, told him that he was just as closed in as always.

This place, though -- this was different. They truly were staring out into an infinite void.

Gabe could feel it, calling him, beckoning him. A thousand, a million, a billion stars all calling him, pulling at him. He could see a new one every day and never visit them all. He could explore them his entire life and never have to think about Earth or the crash or his father again. All those skeletons in his closet -- he could leave them all behind.

Sol looked at him, her face stuck in an expression of awe. He smiled back at her, but something in his smile must not have translated, because her expression became a little more reserved, as though she'd been forgetting herself, and now remembered to hide. But when she looked back to the stars, her expression fell right back to the awed wonder.

Gabe tore his eyes away long enough to survey the room. Unfortunately, it was occupied by several other groups of students. Apparently this was a regular hang out for the students here at Command School. Shame. This might have been a wonderful place for their chess games. But it lacked the comfortable solitude they were looking for, the cozy seclusion that they'd had back in their classroom in Battle School. For their games, they needed a place where they wouldn't be bothered. They needed a place where no one else existed if they didn't want anyone to. This observatory was nice, and Gabe suspected that they would visit it often in the next four years, but it wasn't quite right for their needs.

His voice was quiet, but the intensity was there, and now she could see he was as struck by the display as she was. That in itself would have been enough to make her awed, if the stars hadn't taken care of that first. The conviction in those seven words made her supress a shiver, and she brushed his hand with hers, but did not take it.

She knew how he'd meant it; they were going to spend their lives out here exploring the stars. It wasn't anything sinister. She understood, but there was an echo of mortality in the seriousness he put into those words, and it made her a little unhappy for the space of a moment or two.

Swede opened her eyes only twice during their long time relaxing. Once when a pair of students appeared, memory stirring faintly as she recognized them as being former Fox soldiers. Names evaded her, however, and she shrugged it off and returned to her lazy lounging. Rye's eyes were closed and she didn't bother to disturb him to ask, just sighed quietly and settled into the couch once more.

He got the last of what he needed and grinned at her as she looked up from the plotting screen. "C'mon, pilot, I'm tired," he said, and held a hand out to her to lead her over to one of the couches. He waited until they were settled before he tried to talk. He really did want to talk to her. He just had no idea how to say what he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure what that was, and he frowned to himself.

"So...uh...aside from this Nathan stuff, are you ok?"

Helen stared at him for a second not sure how to respond. Was everything okay? Did he want to know about her having the dream? She really didn't want to have to tell him, save him from it. Besides, it was Nathan's fault she'd had it anyway. She was afraid because of him. Afraid she'd loose cas like she'd lost David. So that would go in the 'aside from Nathan' catagory wouldn't it?

But nothing had happened with Nathan, and she was begining to think that nothing would. Besides, she couldn't sit awake all night, every night, for the rest of her life, worrying if something would happen. Everything would work out alright, she was sure of it.

She scooted a little closer to cas and leaned her head on his shoulder. As she did it she sensed something from him, maybe a little bit of surprise? or was it something else. She curled up next to him and sighed. She was there with him and it felt like there was an invisible sheild around them, like nothing could hurt him or even herself. Not even Nathan. Nothing.

Yesterday had gone well. He'd been waiting outside her Quad when she came out after lights on, and he'd walked her to breakfast and then to class. He was waiting outside her last class, and he'd walked her to lunch, back to class, and when her last class of the day was out, she'd only been in the Commons a few minutes before he joined her for the rest of the evening.

It felt good to be loved.

Today he'd asked to meet her in the Observatory after classes were done. She hadn't been in here before, and the view was spectacular. So many stars. It was as close as she could get to looking at fire, but it was just a dim reflection after the dazzling display the interrogator had given her.

A little of her good feeling wilted as she thought about him. Somehow, she was going to find him and hurt him, someday. He'd burned her, hit her, taunted her with the flare and destruction of her two dearest loves, fire and Jordan, and someday he was going to pay for that...but not today.

She was recovering. She still tired far too easily, but her limp was nearly noticeable now, and her cheeks that had been so black yesterday were now just a faded blue-green, as if she were wearing some sort of strange blush makeup. Her head ached badly every now and then, but she didn't think anything was permanently damaged.

He breathed a silent sigh of relief and slight irritation at himself. After that little incident two days ago, he'd sworn that he wouldn't leave her unattended for more than five minutes. He didn't want her alone. He didn't want her at the mercy of Mode or that interrogator. Jor just wanted her safe.

But his class had been let out late this morning, and he'd hurried through the hallways, unwilling to risk any sort trouble if he could help it. Now, though, he could relax. She was with him once more, and Jor smiled slightly as he approached. A whisper as he moved to slide gracefully into the seat beside her, arm coiling around her waist and tugging her toward him as he planted a gentle kiss on her temple. "Mmmm spark... miss me?"

Stars. It was amazing. As if the entire universe was opened there for him. Don't be dumb, Dal, he told himself. It wasn't nothing of that sort. It was probably fake, anyhow. But he couldn't lose that feeling. In a way, it reminded him of the Memorial Garden in Battle School. There, too, he was relaxed often. But he could barely remember the place now. It reminded him a bit of the sea near Beirut - but he didn't want to remember Beirut. Not now.

Too late he caught on er hand. She seemed already offended there. He didn't know what to say. He dind't know what to do. "Erm, I'm Dal," he finally said. He shifted his gaze between her and the window. "It's hypnotic," he finally said.

Erm, I'm Dal.........It's hypnotic." She glanced out of the window, she'd never exactly thought of it like that, but then again, she never really thought about it at all. "You've been here a while?"

But all these thoughts, they weren't answering Sue at all, weren't they? He looked back at her. "I've arrived today," he said finally. He could see on her face it sounded weird to her - of course, he was older. At 17, most students have been ot the School for a year or so. His arriving late was not the ordinary thing. "I...They had some problems on Earth.. Kept me in some ground School there," he justified himself. Why am I doing this? He immediately asked himself. Why am I justifying myself to a complete stranger? As if it'd help! Saying he had to be in a ground School without saying why - it'd just make her more suspicious.

"Okay," he said finally. He looked for a moment at the stars again, and then looked back at her. "Have any certain place in mind to begin with?.." he then thought some more. "Or are the places here similar to Battle School as well, just like the system?" It killed him. The system being so much like Battle Scjhool. dividing into armies. Or "Quads", as they were called here. Twisting the minds of the students against each other. For crying out loud! While being able to see some sort of a justification for that on Battle School - the kids needed to be trained as soldiers, after all - there were no reaosn to do this on Command School. They were just twisting everyone's mind. Brainwashing them against each other. Creating stupid, false, twisted groups. He couldn't get it.

"Excuse me, " she began. She smiled her most charming smile" I am Geneva, you two looked like you could cheer a girl up."

The administration was fucking around with them again, and he was exhausted with it. Two female greens, one of them underage, had been dumped on his Quad without any warning at all. At least Helen could fly. Raven was completely useless, no sim training at all, and every argument he'd ever heard that justified females in the military was defeated as she'd stood practically quaking in her boots and crying when he told her she had to practice or he'd transfer her out.

Soldiers take orders. Soldiers follow orders. Soldiers don't fucking cry.

And now Parade Review, with no prior notification. He had thirty minutes before his Quad was supposed to be assembled, and he just wanted to ignore the world until he had to go back and look at pathetic little Raven and try not to scream in frustration. Woe to the Panther who was late for this one.

He was halfway to the windows when he stopped as his eyes ran over Geneva Brooke.

Now there was a woman who belonged in the military.

She was as far from that puling brat Raven as it was possible for someone to be and still have tits. Sasha had only met her a few weeks ago, but she'd left a strong impression. She'd been hanging out with Jack, the commander from Hydra, and he'd brought her to a card game. Sasha had been absolutely livid for the first fifteen minutes, until she'd won two hands in a row. She didn't simper about it, she didn't act cute or roll her eyes. She just gave a predatory grin and dealt the next hand.

Geneva Brooke gloated like a man.

He approached her slowly. She was talking to a pair of greens, but he didn't pay much attention to them. He needed distraction.

She remembered him from the card game. He exuded a hostility about him that she had not quite figured out. She didn’t trust those who she had not figured out. She liked to be able to read those she interacted with, it gave her the advantage.

But no, he had Helen and Raven. Helen was still a kid, though Cas didn't seem to mind. Raven was as worthless a soldier as he'd ever imagined a girl could be, and thin as a reed besides. Who wanted that?

The second, evening the scales, was how devoted Jordan was to her.

He'd come into an IA interrogation, broken into the Detention Center to take her back, taking a very real risk of punishment and expulsion and possibly even death to do so. That obvious devotion was the only thing keeping her from separating herself from him completely, immediately, while there was still some slim chance of self-regeneration.

That, and the fact that she loved him.

He grinned at her, and she grinned back automatically, but she wanted some time alone to think, and Jor wasn't likely to give it to her. She didn't like being corralled, even for her own safety, but she still felt too indebted to him to be sufficiently angry, and that made her...angry.

Always something.

He knew the thoughts that went along with that stare, too. Two years together had taught him more than he ever imagined he could know about Wick. There were still some small gaps in his understanding, but he'd seen that flash in her glacier eyes before. She wanted solitude.

Part of him understood. He was relishing their closeness over the past few days, enjoying her nearly constant presence, secure in the knowledge that nothing would touch or harm her unless it went through him. But protecting her was one thing. Trapping her was another. A faraway, dim part of him wished for only that; was stubbornly refusing to leave her side for even a single moment, afraid that she would be in danger.

That was the part of him that Wick was rebelling against.

And so he sighed, knowing he couldn't possibly contradict her request to be alone. Well, he could, but he didn't want to face the consequences. Better to let her go than risk another fight between them. After coming so close to losing her just two nights before, that was not a possibility that Jor was willing to entertain.

"Okay. But if I find out you went and saw Nathan, I think I'll have to beat you myself." His tone was jocular, but there was a hint of nearly silent truth woven in. He didn't want her anywhere near Nathan, ever again. And he sincerely hoped she'd learned his lesson before. Jor tried all he could to keep Wick safe, but there were times when she threw his protection back in his face and seemed to attempt to find all the danger she could. His spark loved to play with fire. He only hoped she didn't get herself burned again.

With a reluctant sigh, he tilted his chin up for a kiss, smiling tiredly as he settled back into the couch. She would go, and he would stay here and try to think clearly enough to plan a use for the fletchette pistol and riot gear hidden beneath his bed. "See you at dinner, spark."

His eyes traced her figure as she nodded and limped from the observatory.

Stars. So many stars. Too many to count, too many to ever see. Kat paused and stared, wide eyes softening to muted jade, and before long she found herself hiding in a far corner of the room, curled on a couch and mesmerized by the vast display of emptiness.

Her eyes closed and she thought of Jax.

Have you ever wondered what happens when we die, my Kitten? I don't think it's just an end, final. Maybe... maybe it's kind of like space. Endless. Empty. But out there, if you can find them, are little stars. I think my parents are stars, and your mother... and someday, we will be too. Just floating out there, waiting for other stars to join us. It's awfully lonely in space. Think you'll be next to me to keep me company?

No, she thought wearily. I can never leave him to be beside you. Never again.

Katera, do you think your mother watches you? Sometimes I feel like my parents do, somehow. I used to go around school and look at all the other parents who came to pick their children up, thinking maybe, one of them might be mine. I think they watch me to make sure I'm safe, like parents are supposed to. Sometimes I wonder if they're proud of me... do you think your mother would be proud of you?

Not proud; no mother would want a child like me. A sixteen year old murderess who breaks everything she touches. I'm not even proud of myself anymore. Just tired, resigned, weary and sick of feeling as if I always have blood on my hands.

No. You're not going back there, Kat, never. If we have to kill them to keep you here, then we will. I love you, Kat. I won't let them take you away from me, I promise.

And I love you, Mode. More than I ever loved Jax. More than I'll ever love anyone else again. I know, even if you don't. I know because as much as I would have sacrificed my life to keep my mother alive, I would die now to keep you safe.

If we kill him then he'll always be yours, just like Jax...

No.

Why do you torture yourself like this?

For once, Kat didn't know.

Her breath left in a ragged sigh, and when she opened her eyes, they were brilliant serpentine green with unshed tears. She couldn't stand to be here any longer. She needed to do something, anything... but not near Mode. Not where she might hurt him. Solace in pain was what she needed now. Perhaps later she'd go back to the barracks, back to him... and maybe by healing him, she could protect him from what she knew she'd try to do all too soon.

Fool. That's as ridiculous as killing yourself to keep from ending him.

His steps had taken him to a familiar corridor of the school... his mind that usually recorded everything had been stilled in a reverie. It was a rare, unsettling feeling to find himself in the Observatory and not have any idea of how he'd gotten there. Yet all this died away when he glanced around... when his eyes rested on the slim girl standing alone at the window. Her flowing black hair fell gently across her elegant shoulders, and though her back was to him, he knew the beautiful green of those eyes that gazed out at this expanse of eternal night. Pallas. Kevo felt an unaccustomed stab of longing in his heart... suddenly it seemed he had been missing her for a lifetime.

She hadn't seen him yet. Kevo experienced the slightest moment of hesitancy... he didn't want her to see him in this way. What way, he rebuked himself. I feel goddamned fine.

He never used to lie to himself before now.

She liked to watch the stars because it helped put everything back into perspective again. Sometimes she lost sight of her real goal, and would become mired down in the everyday trivialities. Things would focus too closely on her schoolwork, on her training, on the battles and studying that took up so much of her time these days. The pace of her instruction had only increased in the past few months, after she'd been assigned to the Support AIT, but she viewed it all as a welcome distraction, and struggled onward. Sometimes, though, she'd distract herself too much, and at those times, it was here she came to remember.

She came to remember Mode.

Two years had passed. It was nearly unbelieveable, and there were moments when she had to remind herself that he wouldn't be waiting in her cell when she returned from class. During the day, it was easier to forget just how long he'd been away, but at night it was impossible. Whoever had said that time heals all wounds had never experienced the bloody nightmares she had, and the two more years until she graduated from this school seemed more like two thousand. Kat still did not like to sleep, for she dreamed of Mode, and waking to find that the only arms holding her were her own did not make for peace.

Yet life continued, and she just grit her teeth and clawed her way through. She had technician courses during the morning, firearms practice in the afternoons, and battles whenever Commander Mercé decided it was time she emerged from her room and interact with her quad again. Her social catatonia had lessened somewhat, but she rarely talked to anyone, simply because there was no need. Gabe and Sol and Ryan Jayde were figments from her past, and they factored little into the future she was planning.

But sometimes her father would visit, and as much as she would have liked to disregard him the same way she did everyone else, it was not an option. She wasn't sure if his presence was positive or negative; every once in a while he would appear, talk sternly to her teachers, and leave again. She knew she was being groomed to work for him. He had told her that the first time he came to visit, right after Mode was taken away, and if she didn't like it, she did accept it. There was little she could do, if she had wanted to. It was unimportant.

Work was necessary to succeed. When she graduated, she would be free from the school and her father. When she was free, she could find Mode. And when she found Mode...

Then my life will be complete.

Once in awhile she wondered if he missed her as much as she did him. Did he still remember what it was like to kiss her? Could he still recall the feel of her curls, the scent of her skin, the sting of her nails? She could still remember everything about him; it was these thoughts that kept her sane, kept her breathing and moving. When she could dream of them together in peace, on that day in the barracks when they had loved one another completely, it was hard to believe that he wouldn't remember.

It was all ridiculous worrying, and she knew it. Of course he missed her. He loved her, as much as she loved him, and when they were free they would find one another. It was unfathomable to think that they might be kept apart forever. Not even death could do that.

Kat sighed and settled deeper into her seat, wide green-gold eyes reflecting the stars that twinkled before her. Somewhere, in that vast eternity of night, Mode was alive. It was only a matter of time. Maybe he was in a similar place, staring at the stars. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, he'd be able to hear her.

She closed her eyes and wished upon a star. I miss you, love. Find me soon.

Her watch alarm interrupted her thoughts, and it was with one final, longing glance that she left.

Class was dragging, and she'd tuned the instructor out ten minutes into the session. How could anyone who was in an AIT that required this class not know about hypergolics? The idiot had spent all morning babbling on about safety precautions and lab regulations, and now it looked like even the real class material itself was going to be deadly dull today. Wick cast a covert longing glance at the line of storage units along one wall that held the substances they would eventually be working with. He had opened one of them just before class to retrieve some examples of the basic lab equipment they would be using, and she'd caught a glimpse inside.

Most of the containers were opaque, with liquid hazard symbols on them, but a few had been made of clear durable polycarbon to allow an observer to see the state of the material inside. Before he shut the door, Wick had spotted a box of small silver bars that had sparked an affectionate flare of recognition. Magnesium. She wondered how well-guarded the cabinets really were. They wouldn't miss one little bar, would they?

Wonderful stuff, that. There was no way a little laboratory this size was going to allow them to use full bars in any kind of real experiment. They would have to grind it into powder. There was no real reason for them to have bars at all, really; powder would have been just as easy to ship, and more space-efficient. Interesting.

"...answer that for us, Callenstrom?"

Wick slowly looked back towards the instructor with a carefully blank expression. He'd obviously noticed she wasn't paying attention, and she didn't want to let him see her jump. "I don't know, sir," she said flatly, irritated at being interrupted in her musing and caught off-guard.

The instructor sneered. "That's hardly surprising, Callenstrom. Maybe if you paid a little more attention you might have a chance of passing this course. Daniels! Maybe you can answer the question she seems to be having so much trouble with. What is the first rule of etiquette when dealing with explosives?" Wick moved her gaze from the instructor to the indicated student expressionlessly. A sandy-haired boy with eyes a little too blue to be hazel straightened slightly, but didn't bother to hide his slight smile when he replied.

"Focus, sir," he said guilelessly, and the instructor made a small sound of satisfied agreement and cast a hard look at Wick. "Focus. This profession doesn't allow second chances. It only takes one slip to kill you, and learning that the hard way isn't an option." He finally looked away and continued the lecture, and Wick remained externally blank and quietly seethed inside. She'd been handling dangerously flammable material since she was five; admittedly, most of it was household substances that could be obtained easily, but she'd begun to get slightly more sophisticated before she left for BattleSchool. She wasn't stupid. She had researched things thoroughly before she'd tried anything, and she'd always been careful. Wick respected nothing like she respected fire. Fire destroyed everything it had to in order to survive. Fire respected nothing but death, and she understood that. The instructor was fearful of it. Wick merely recognized an equal.

Daniels was smiling at her.

She looked in his direction, and he allowed her to see his mean little smile for almost a full second before he looked away. Wick forced her mouth to stay closed instead of falling open in shocked fury. Classroom rivalry was one thing, but that had been an intentionally inflammatory look. The boy was obviously looking for a fight. Wick resolved with some difficulty to simply ignore him, and the rest of the class crept by as she studiously ignored him. Her effort was wasted. He didn't look her way again.

The tone sounded, and she picked up her desk and rose, leaving the classroom almost too quickly to avoid notice.

The anger was still there when she met Jorry in the Observatory after classes, but it was much diminished. Since her promise to him nearly two years ago, she had been learning to channel her anger and frustration that inevitably accrued from the loss of her scheming outlet into other things. Her studies were moving excellently, and she was proficient in all the newest weapons the IF had recently released training for. She had taken up more indepth research into the demolitions field, and she probably knew more than the instructor about most of the compounds they would be working with. Anything that she could use to distract her mind, she had.

That didn't make it any easier.

She joined him silently on one of the couches in the Observatory and was about to open her desk when she spotted Daniels across the room, sitting and talking with three other vets and looking her way. He smirked again, but it was colder than it had been before, and she saw his eyes touch on Jor briefly before he went back to his conversation.

Angry delight blossomed, and Wick set her desk aside and crawled into Jor's lap, cuddling against his chest. She looked up and met his emerald gaze, and he looked down at her in tolerant amusement, strong arm fitting around her automatically. She wasn't usually very affectionate in public, but she'd done worse, and when she kissed him a bit roughly he responded perfectly. "Hiya, match," she said in a low voice, a small flickering smile curving her lips as she looked up into his beautiful eyes. "How was your day?"

"Hiya, match," she said quietly, and he smiled indulgently and hugged her a little closer. There was very little her pleasure to see him couldn't cure, and despite the two years that had passed since their last battle, her love was still a very precious commodity. It had taken Jor four incredibly long years to fully appreciate what he'd been given, and to fully trust Wick as he so desperately wanted to, but now it seemed that everything was right. He'd secured her promise to stop her scheming, and she'd honored it completely. Now secure in their love, Jor was more than willing to release her from that oath. As long as it made her happy.

He was about to kiss her again when she smirked and spoke. "How was your day?"

It had been a long day, and he was tired, but he didn't care to admit it. Since his appointment into the Tactical AIT, life had been grueling. Everything was a constant barrage of classes and tests and battles and more tests, and Jor was exhausted with the effort of trying to keep pace. While Wick seemed to have no trouble whatsoever with learning her extensive coursework, Jor worried that he was exactly the opposite, and it gave him no end to his concerns.

But he shouldn't worry. Everything always turned out alright for him in the end. Hadn't he defeated all his enemies and claimed Wick? Hard work was not something Jordan Windhaven was afraid of, but losing Wick was, and it gave him more than sufficient motivation to struggle his way through his AIT and do the best he possibly could. Soon enough, he and Wick would graduate, and then he could take her home and ask her to mar--

His eyes shimmered jade for a moment, and he immediately quelled that train of thought. Wouldn't do to daydream when she was curled in his lap and quite willing to receive all the love he felt like lavishing upon her. So he grinned broadly, ran his fingertips along her lips, and leaned in to whisper hot breath into her ear. "Better now that you're here, spark."

Someone was watching them.

Jor didn't pull away from Wick, but cradled her closer, as if by holding her he could somehow shield her from whoever this man was. The boy was seated across the room with a few other vets that Jor vaguely recognized, but he was watching them with a sharp gaze, and as their eyes met the boy grinned. No. He didn't just grin. He smirked that knowing man-to-man smirk as if he knew more than he ever should about Wick. When his pointed glance fell upon Wick's back, Jor's eyes turned to serpentine, and he fought the urge to take Wick and leave now.

I'd like to see you try something, fool. She's mine.

He broke the glare and kissed her again, this time rough with possessive anger, and when they finally separated to catch their breath, Jor narrowed his eyes at the boy and smiled back with dangerous calm.

He hadn't liked Callenstrom from the first. She was too proud, too contemptuous of her betters, and too goddamn pale. He'd been happy for the chance to take her down a few notches, and today in class had been perfect. He'd gotten to enjoy watching her look idiotic, and she'd been absolutely silent the rest of the period instead of looking arrogant and bored. It wasn't something he'd spent much time thinking about, either before or after, but it had made his afternoon a little more entertaining.

But there she was, over it and wasting time crawling in the lap of some overgrown vet and obviously trying to piss him off. What, did she think he was jealous? That's what made him the angriest, her presumption that he could possibly be interested in her. He hated that, the little bitch assuming that he was at all like the muscled moron she was practically laying on, that the only reason he had bothered putting her in her place was that he wanted sex.

Trevor had better taste.

Her friend looked over at him then, and he grinned at him just the way Callenstrom would have expected him to. She really had her claws in that one; he glared at Trevor like he was three seconds shy of a meltdown and then spent the next minute or two proving to Trevor and the rest of the room that the girl was unquestionably his. Trevor wondered if the man's cave Earthside had as many clubs as he suspected it did. The whole scene could have been scripted, and the only thing that surprised him was how easily she submitted to it. How enthusiastically. Callenstrom seemed more like the cold fish type. Apparently not.

That's what I thought.

He wasn't sure whether he should ask if she knew the boy, or just ignore it and reassure himself without telling her. He hated letting her know when he was feeling jealous, because she inevitably found some way to mock him, and it only made him angrier than before. The last time they'd really fought, she had taunted him about Bianca, and he'd beaten her... but since their complete reconciliation that last night in the infirmary, he hadn't become provoked enough to hurt her. Peace was a good thing, but the small possessive part of him missed their violence, and with the added irritation of that boy over there, Jor was feeling the need to do some damage.

It would certainly be fun to take out that anger on Wick. He loved seeing his own bitemarks on her slender throat, the bruises he'd given her around her wrists, and the way that feral fire lit behind her glacier eyes whenever he loved her. Jor grinned at the thought and pressed his lips to the side of her neck for a quick nip at her skin. She smiled, and with one swift motion he swept her up and landed her on her feet next to him, before wrapped his fingers around hers and leading her toward the door.

"Let's go, spark. I missed you."

Bryo stole a glance at his captain. There were hard angles in the man's face, unbendingly commanding and strong, that fought the relaxed atmosphere of the room so forcefully that this atmosphere was what seemed to be unusual, not he. His stride emanated authority; his eyes flashed power so intense that they could lower eyelids with the mere coercion of a glance. In recent weeks, he'd rarely even had to voice his commands to his brothers. This was only during training sessions; otherwise, he didn't interact with them at all. Determined like stone to be their captain, he was a brilliant one at this and nothing else; not even their brother. And yet even Ryan was not one of the ones who were most changed. It still disturbed Bryo how ever more Formic-like the brothers had become. He would have wanted to shudder, but he'd forgotten how to shudder - as did many of the others - the day they'd found out that Kat Quistin (a female a maniac, none in potential) and Mode had killed their brother Zion. This, undoubtedly, was what made Ryan enroll them for early enlistment into the IF Command Post. And this, more than any other transfer, provoked the most military growth in the Jaydes, pushed their skills, sanities and bonds to their limits and determined that they would be gone from this school within the next three months. Zion had not needed to be alive for them to feel his immortal energy, to feed from his eternal mastery. From the grave, he had had the life to push them as far as this and further.

The Jaydes had filed into the Observatory in a line. A line! Goddamnit, this is what those two years had done to them. Bryo broke off and sprawled onto a couch, disgusted. They - even he, for a few moments - had forgotten what it was to be at ease, hadn't they? Well to hell with that - they were on vacation. It would only last for a week; Bryo would juice it for all it was worth. He wasn't sixteen anymore, afraid of the teachers and what the older veterans might do to him if he was ever caught outside the proximity of his brothers. He was nineteen, a man beyond all doubts. And more than ever, he was aware that he and his brothers were the IF's jewels; they could steal ten Talons and kill Katera Quistin for all they cared, and still the Jaydes could do no wrong. Not that there was much immature wrong that Bryo felt like doing any longer. This place, once he got used to the grueling training, was getting too small for his visions. He was bored.

The others, some casting looks at Ryan to ensure that they had permission, some not bothering, followed their lieutenant's example and began to wander freely throughout the Observatory. Mika and Davn came and eased down on the couch next to Bryo. Not a word was spoken between them. There was an aura of reflection lacing each man's face; the stars reflected in their eyes as they watched each brother go about his individual way as he had not had the chance to do in so long. Ryan ambled away and stood by the window, lost in his own thoughts and the vaccum of space that was his only companion these days.

Liex, standing next to Oris, Erik and Tony at a holovid display, did not seem quite as monstrously huge in contrast to them as he had years before. He hadn't shrunken; they had grown, in height and in strength. Erik's russet head was less than an inch below the crown of Liex's; Bryo knew that his was, too. He watched silently as the four conflicted over which diskette to watch. Tony and Erik began to argue heatedly on the subject until Tony grabbed the diskette and jammed it into the holovid, a look of triumphant challenge on his face. They didn't break out the fists now as they would have two years ago, but there was an amusing stare-down in which Bryo could see Tony's satisfaction rise at the unobscure fury in Erik's face. Oris, very matter-of-fact and sedately, went around to the back and pulled the holovid's wires. Liex snorted and grabbed the back of Erik's collar as he dived; at Tony or Oris, Bryo couldn't tell. Some things never changed; these "men" were epithets of boyhood years no matter how old they became. Even Tony, whose mind was ancient and more corrupt than any of the rest, found immaturity subtle and irresistible to succumb to. Still, during the sessions of their regimen when they were made to undergo vigorous physical training simply to maintain their body's endurance, those times when fast, crucial thought and monomentality literally meant life or death (well, injury, at the very least), they were all men. Men in a soldiers' world, Erik and Tony no less than any other. Oris and Liex were markedly important in this aspect.

Adam was posted at another holovid, an absorbed expression scrawled on his pale face. He beckoned Mika to himself and the two of brothers examined the image together. These had changed, also... time was apparent in their manner, their stance, the way their IF uniforms and Jayde patches fitted them like skin fits a newborn. Mika was still witty, sarcastic; Adam would always be steady, loyal... but in their eyes was a vague fire, a touch of driving fear instilled that Bryo knew not the cause of. Only knew that this fire was also visible in his own.

Still, no one shone this flame the way Kevo did. So laid-back he was at first glance, reclined solitarily on his couch across the Observatory, doing nothing but resting his eyes. How could anyone who'd only seen him come in understand what it was to fight by his side, to win every possible battle scenario, to see that light so bright in his victory that you'd forget his eyes were almost black? Kevo was brilliant, more now than ever. The man thrived in pressure, keeping his cool in the tensest of situations. His strategical genius was brought to flourish during the past two years. These, along with the rest, had been positive changes. But losses compensated; apparently the loss of Zion had not been enough of a price for the Fates. There was Davn, and the way he no longer grew that depth of gaze when he watched his brothers interact. Somewhere along the way, the brother's empathy had pained him to near insanity so that he'd gotten rid of it. How could he have done that and kept loving us at the same time...? Bryo wondered, not without apprehension of the answer. Davn was the - not the heart of the Jaydes, for that was Ryan and the the memory of Zion - but it as if Davn was an impervious vault for the safekeeping of all their souls. Bryo chuckled at the whimsicality of this, if only to ignore the fact that if this were true, Davn had betrayed himself and them thus. What had become of their souls?

The lieutenant turned away abruptly as his attentions swiveled to Ryan stalking out the Observatory doors. So suddenly. Bryo had little doubt as to where he was going, and almost instinctively, he turned to Davn for confirmation. Davn gave him none. Bryo wanted to hit him.

Moments later, the doors breathed open again. Familiar faces poured in, characteristic to the disorderly order of Tyrel Malcolm's jeesh. The Jeesh was one of the few other teams also undergoing training for the post. Sometimes they were allied with the Jaydes during sessions, in which occasion they were very useful, however different their styles were from the brothers'. On other occasions, the two teams were set against each other, in which case the battle was always real, always intense, and the Jeesh were worthy enough adversaries to have beaten the Jaydes nearly often as the Jaydes had beaten them. Almost. Tyrel's jeesh did have a certain one-up on them, though - and one of them was walking towards Bryo right at that moment.

"Christo. You're not in a line, Jayde. Do I need to tell El Lobo to get his pack in check?" Selena Katarez approached the couch with a fluid grace that walking could not quite describe what her movements paralleled. Her brow was slightly cocked in her cool manner of humor; her voice was the same melodious Spanish gold of her eyes. She was a few years younger than Bryo, a beauty whose like was rare in a place such as this.

"As long as you ain't pouncing buggas in your Talon you don't scare me, Moon Lady." Bryo smiled and stood up to embrace the girl whose height scarcely reached his shoulder. "How ya been, Selena?"

"Well, I was going to commit suicide to get off this kaka training regimen, but now that I've seen you, I'm already in heaven." she smiled up at him, tossing raven waves from her face. "Dav? Hola, chulo... Mai wanted to see you, she's-"

"I know where she is." Davn interrupted and walked calmly from the observatory. Before the doors cut off his view, he gazed back with his old eyes, tender and honest, to where Mai Li Zhiyuan watched him with a clarity that rivaled his own. Mai's violet, voyant eyes... Bryo hadn't been used to their omniscience when they were children in Battle School; he still wasn't used to them now. He would have wanted to ask Selena what was the matter, but that business belonged to Davn.

"And you? Have you seen Tony?"

She answered tacitly, "Yes, I've seen him. We practice together, no?"

Bryo let it go. Tyrel came to greet him then, and despite all rivalry and the Jaydes' trademark unenthusiasm for males who were not their brothers, Bryo welcomed him. Tyrel was genuine, strong, modest to the point of not knowing how utterly talented he was; his being able to achieve nearly anything was a tired life song, unnecessary to sing. He was reminiscent of Zion, and perhaps it was in that that Bryo loved him as he loved his brothers. Veronique Rameses, Tyrel's opal-eyed, spidersilk-haired, mulatta dominatrix of a half-sister, was his lieutenant. Bryo had had a sister. Visions of a bundled baby swam through his mind; suddenly it occurred to him that his sister would not be a baby anymore. Briefly he wondered... would be she as gorgeous as Veronique? If she were here, would he have had to beat off Tony with the butt of a flashgun?

Over to one side, Jasmine Nirvani, another of Tyrel's troop, was talking in undertones with Oris. Bryo saw them both cast subtle glances in Aras Tlaloc's direction, and not for the first time, he noticed how much the two men resembled one another. What Oris would have given for eyes like Aras's, Bryo knew. Red, veined with black. Hair streaked with grey. Their look was the same, though. The same dark expression.

Two others - Rafael Tristan and Logan Xavier - joined Tyrel, Bryo and Selena at the couch. Liex ambled over amiably, and Bryo thought vaguely that if Rafe and Liex had both turned around, he would not be able to tell them apart. Similar impressive build, muscle upon muscle; same height, same crew cut. But where there was focused candidness on Liex's face, there was focused predatory calm on Rafe's. Intimidation without need of verification. Bryo looked him in the face and tensed; there was a glint, a nocturnal silver in his expression. Instead he turned his attentions to the sleeves and cuffs of Logan's uniform. The soldier's arms and legs were bionic, the originals had been lost in a Battle School accident. The new ones, however, gave him the reflexes of a falcon. Cheating, in Bryo's eyes. But if you have to have metal legs...

"So. Where's your captain at? Ryan still using his vacation time for killing buggas?"

She pushed the fact of Seth sitting there out of her mind, maybe she was just hallucinating his behavior and his distancing kyle from her. It was entirely possible. She vaulted over the back of the sofa and plopped on the cushion next to Kyle's and on the side opposite to Seth. She giggled slightly at the startled expression on Kyles face, but didn't even glance over at Seth.

"Of course. Seth and I were... uh... just talking and we sort of ended up here when I came to meet you."

It felt like he hadn't seen her in days or talked to her in weeks. He felt bad about bringing Seth but when the man wanted to talk, someone was going to listen. And as had been the case for over two years, that someone was Kyle. He glanced back toward his friend, he face had gone expressionless again, giving away as much as as stone. He always did that when they weren't alone. Exspecially when Sue was around. Holding back a sigh he turned back to Sue.

She sunk into the couch only a few inches away from Kyle, a grin on her face as she wrote out their fairy tale in her head. She could have swore that Seth was probably glaring at her, or at least watching her in distaste, but she wasn't about to look up to make sure. Would he be the evil villian in her fairy tale. She pondered it for a second and dismissed the fact, Seth didn't have the ambition to do anything like he did at battleschool. Her fairy tale was safe. A happy ending would most definitely be in order.

None of her soldiers were with her. Rox was not by her side, nor was Swede or Mik. She didn't have a companion, for once, and without someone to talk to or just be silent with, she almost didn't know what to do with herself.

Time went altogether too quickly, and altogether too slowly. Funny how that worked. When she had been with Donovan it seemed as if each day were only a mere hour long... and now the days stretched endlessly, seeming to go on forever. But being a quad commander kept her busy, and she was grateful for the hectic pace. It kept her mind occupied with other, less painful thoughts. Thoughts that didn't involve Donovan and how much she missed him.

It was frightening to think of how many years had passed without him. Soon it would be three, and then the administrators might let her graduate early, but what of it? Mitch and Lem, and her few other older companions from Battleschool days, had already graduated. Rox and Mik were up for their departure to IFC in less than six months. Even if any of them were at the command post when she arrived, how long could that possibly last? Even Nicolai would be receiving his pilots commission soon. Everyone was leaving, and Dante had very little doubt that these next few months would be the last times she'd ever spend with her friends.

That thought made her sad, in a faraway detached sort of way. Nothing like friendships had meant much to her since Donovan had been taken away. Everything and everyone was just slightly unreal, just a little unimportant. Everything paled in comparison to what she'd had before, because now, despite her rank and her achievements, she had nothing, for she did not have him.

Dante sighed, and stepped into the observatory. There were always soldiers here. Never alone, indeed. But she didn't recognize anyone immediately, and no one recognized her, and she was both pleased and a little saddened. Maybe she wouldn't stay here long, and she could seek out Rox. They spent nearly all their free time together, for misery loves company, and having lost their twins drew them closer together. Rox had other obligations, however, and Dante had her quad to command, and when circumstance kept them apart for even a day, she found herself morose. No one understood her melancholy, save Rox. She sighed again.

I miss you, mon amour. I miss you so much.

Nodding to the chair across from her he asked, "May I?"

Taking her silent stare for a yes he slowly sat down. In all of his dreams of this moment he had always known what to do, known exactly what to say. Now, all he could feel was rage. Hate for the people who did this to such a beautiful person.

"May I?" He asked politely, and she was still a little too unnerved by his intense gaze to reply. He obviously took her silence for confirmation, and slowly slid into the space beside her. Her eyes focused on him for a long, silent moment as she searched his face, trying to place him. Seth. It was Seth.

It was easy to mistake him for someone else. After all, it had been two years since they'd last spoken. She remembered his first day at Command School, when he'd arrived and found her in the mess hall, with Donovan... Donovan. Dante's eyes softened for the briefest flicker, but the ice reclaimed them before her weakness could be discovered, and she was about to say something when he spoke.

"Hi, my name is Seth."

Dante gave him a veiled curious glance, and nodded. She knew. Of course she knew. Her voice was liquid accented ice when she finally smiled with as much friendliness as her glacier demeanor would allow and replied quietly.

"I know, Commander Taylor."

Seth closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to look at her. Into her eyes. They were violet once. Her smile, touched her eyes once. I made her smile once. Laugh even, once. UNTIL HE, THEY...DAMNIT. He found himself struggling to keep the quivering from his voice.

"Commander Iddantél. Dante. It has been a long time. How has life been treating you?"

But she answered, despite these thoughts, in a tired tone. "Pas aussi puits."

His expression altered, and she realized he didn't understand. Probably better that way, given what she'd said. Dante glanced down at the commander's patch upon her shoulder, looked up toward her reflection, and tried to remind herself that she would have power someday, power and rank, and maybe, just maybe, she could find Donovan.

Releasing his grip when he noticed a slight taste of blood he said, "Fine, I guess."

Seth shot a quick glance back towards the couch where Kyle and Sue were sitting. The love birds were still huddled together talking. He was sure there was something going on there that they kept secret. There had to be. For some reason Kyle didn't want him to know about it and he sure as hell wasn't asking Sue. She got on his nerves. She could get in the way later.

Shaking his head he turned back towards Dante. What could he say to her? Telling her how he felt never worked out right in his dreams. Holding back a sigh he added, "I've seen you around quite often but... you were never alone. Finally you are, heh, just wanted to say hi."