“Are you okay?” said Addy, laughing as she approached and crouched down to help him.

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine,” he said, despite the fact that his foot was throbbing in his boot. “Are you okay?” he asked without thinking, wincing as he lifted the box with his arms and discarded it back onto the pile.

Addy laughed again. “I’m a little jet-lagged, but I’m okay.”

Luckily, it was then that Fiearius and Corra purposely moved away, leaving them alone, or as alone as they could be at the base of the bustling cargo bay.

“That’s good,” he said blankly, brushing his dirt-streaked palms together. “The okay part I mean. Not the jet-lag, that’s bad. I didn’t mean–” Abruptly, he cut himself off because he was babbling like an idiot. He could talk to her just fine over the COMM, why was he so terribly bad at talking to her face to face?

Just pretend it’s like before, he told himself and finally managed to sound at least a little normal when he asked, “So are you here long?”

“Actually, I’m not sure. Corra just decided at the last minute that we should come here.”

So probably not long then, Cyrus realized, his heart sinking slightly. Then this might be his only chance. He’d been kicking himself for not having the guts to ask her out the last time the Beacon had been around and that was well over a month ago. Wasn’t the last month supposed to teach him something? If he could help bring down Society bases and strongholds and ships? Surely he could ask Adrasteia Atelier for a date.

So before he even had the opportunity to second guess himself, before he could talk himself out of it, he decided to have courage. “Well since you’re here, how about that dinner I promised?” he asked suddenly and then added, “I mean, unless you have plans already.” A little courage anyway.

Addy’s smile softened, but not out of any sort of displeasure. “No. I don’t have plans.”

Relief flooded through him at once. “Yeah?” he asked, failing to mask his excitement. “That’s–well, great. Then–” But then the familiar dread of panic came back. He had no idea where to go. He didn’t know this planet at all. He barely even knew which planet they were on.

“I–I didn’t know you were coming,” he told her hastily, “So I didn’t have time to really plan or do any research on what’s around here or what’s good or–”

“That’s okay!” said Addy, waving him off. She supplied him another smile that made his heart flip over in his chest. “Let’s just go exploring, how about that?”

———————–

Corra had never imagined that she might actually be nervous to talk to Leta. Nervous? To talk to her best friend? It was nonsense. But as she approached the infirmary, nervous was exactly what she felt. For the moment, Leta stood at the counter, scrolling through a console screen, her brow furrowed with concentration. Corra hovered in the doorway, and for a few seconds, Leta had no idea she had a visitor.

Corra swallowed her nerves. It was true: things between them hadn’t been the same recently. The Beacon and the Dionysian had very effectively gone their separate ways and Leta had become more than just physically distant because of it. It was easy to guess why. She probably saw the Beacon’s lack of assistance as being unfaithful in spite of their actual logic behind the decision. Corra could only hope that this impromptu visit might serve to mend things a little.

Fighting back her nerves, it was with her usual cheerful enthusiasm that Corra said, “Whatcha workin’ on, Doctor Adler?”

At once, Leta dropped her hand from the screen and turned around, shocked. “Corra? What’re you doing here?” But it wasn’t an unpleasant shock in her face

Without waiting for an invitation, Corra lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Leta. “I missed you,” she declared, squeezing her head against her chest before she was unable to stop herself from looking up at her and begging, “Please stop hating me.”

“You — what?” Leta let out an uncertain laugh, pressing her chin over Corra’s shoulder. “Hate you? I don’t — “

“You do, I can tell you do,” Corra insisted, releasing her and taking a step back. “You never call me anymore and when I call you, you always sound like you’d rather be doing something else and you never tell me what you’re up to and I know it’s because we’re not helping you fight the Society, I know, but please don’t hate me for it, please.”

“Corra, I don’t hate you. Of course I don’t. We’ve just had a really crazy few weeks around here. All these raids.” She smiled sadly. “I swear I’m not ignoring you.”

Corra felt her panic subside a little. But all she managed was, “Really?”

“Of course really!”

“So you’re…not mad that we’re not helping out?”

Leta heaved a sigh. “It sucks, but I understand. And I’m not ignoring you, there’s just — a lot going on. And on top of it all, Fiear’s been really sick lately.”

Leta leaned back against the counter, folding her arms. Across from her, Corra sat on the edge of an exam bench, dangling her feet toward the floor, and they both settled into the normal rhythms of their long talks.

“I thought Fiear looked a little under the weather,” Corra muttered. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s had the flu off and on for a month. And he’s exhausted. It could be stress, honestly, with all of these raids … “

“Could be,” Corra agreed. “He’s not really known for taking the best care of himself.”

“No kidding.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, though. It’ll pass eventually,” Corra assured her. “And if it doesn’t and you get sick of him coughing on you, you’re still welcome on the Beacon y’know,” she added cheerfully. “Daelen’s a good doctor and all, but Finn has this bad habit of getting beat up so we could probably use another.”

Leta smiled thinly. “I’ll keep the offer in mind. Hey — how are things with Finn, anyway? Do you two get along okay?”

“Turns out we make a pretty good team,” Corra told her, grinning. “He does all the charming and I do all the shooting.” She formed her fingers into a gun shape and pretended to fire it, making Leta laugh. “Works out great.”

“So you’re like, friends now?” Leta looked amused. “I thought you used to hate him.”

“I never hated him,” she defended. “Just didn’t like him. I mean, he’s still cocky and arrogant and annoying, but after spending all this time with him, I guess I just ‘get him’ more, y’know? He’s an alright guy deep down.”

“Well, that’s good.” Leta paused, and suddenly her expression shifted with sudden amusement. Or maybe it was disgust.

“Hang on. You’re not like — you two, you and Finn, you’re not — you’re not — “

“What?!” Corra cried laughing incredulously and internally wondering if she had done something to hint at the more intimate side of her relationship with her co-captain or if Leta just knew her too well. “Of course not!” And with a sly smirk, she added, “I know better than to get involved with a captain.”

“Fair enough,” said Leta, but she still look unconvinced. “I just happened to hear that you two happened to get a little close before…”

Corra groaned. “Is Niki still telling people about that? I’m gonna kill that kid.” She shook the thought from her head and met Leta’s stare squarely. “Yes, we made out that one time on Paraven, no, it wasn’t a big deal, okay?”

Leta laughed and shrugged. “Alright, alright. It’s just not fair, you know everything about my love life and lately you’ve told me next to nothing about yours.”

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Corra lied. “Trust me, you’d be the first to know.”

————

“So after we got the ship back,” Finn was saying, taking a pull from his beer and then lowering the glass to the bar counter, “Corra just goes up to the guy. And I think he was expecting her to just shout at him or I don’t know what, but she goes up to him, just lifts her fist and decks him across the face.”

Fiearius laughed. “Sounds like our princess alright. She’s something, that girl.” He tilted his beer towards his lips.

“Got that right.” Finn snorted, letting his gaze wander around the crowded pub. It’d been months since he’d sat down for a beer with someone for anything but business reasons. While Corra was running her ‘personal errand,’ Finn had quickly taken the opportunity to spend a few hours with his own friend.

But unless Finn was very much mistaken (he was sure he wasn’t), Fiearius was not completely at ease this evening, even as they ordered another round and relaxed at the bar. Finn glanced sideways at him. “So that about catches you up on our exciting adventures,” he mused. “What’s going on with you? Besides attacking the Society. How’re things with the lady?”

Fiearius’ expression flickered. “Good,” he said at last. “They’re good. Things are good.”

“Oh yeah? Really?” Finn lifted a brow expectantly, but Fiearius averted his eyes.

“No. No, she’s great. Things are great.”

Finn waited a beat, simply letting the happy chatter of the bar fill in for him. Then, Fiearius said abruptly, “Can I tell you something? Something you won’t repeat to anyone else.”

For a moment, he simply squinted at her through the steam. Then he said, “You alright?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“You didn’t get hurt or something on the raid, did you?”

“No, I’m okay.”

His face was still darkened with concern, however, so Leta stepped closer, raised herself to tip-toe and brushed her lips against his softly. It was only then she felt him relax, and then Leta nodded her head toward the shower playfully. “You look awful. Don’t suppose you want to get in there with me?”

Fiearius cracked a lopsided smirk. “Well, if you insist.”

When they emerged a half-hour later, Leta felt better — decidedly better. Lighter. She even snorted a laugh when Fiearius shook his hand in his hair and sent water spraying all over the bathroom like a wet dog.

But still, when she was wrapping a towel around her middle, she couldn’t help but ask suddenly, “We can trust Quin, right? With helping us?”

“Quin?” Fiearius repeated. “Yeah, of course.” He vigorously rubbed a towel over his head, making his hair stick up at all angles.

“She just seems so … bloodthirsty. I want revenge, Fiearius, but I won’t hurt innocent people.”

“I know that.” He threw the towel to the floor and shrugged. “She’s a little excitable, but not bloodthirsty. More…power-hungry. But she’ll listen. Those agents will get home safely.”

“They better.” Leta frowned. “You two have known each other for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Few years, yeah. I was stuck working with a bunch of Archetian shitheads at the time, which was getting me nowhere, so I forced a job out of her instead.”

“Forced?”

“Well, she refused to see me the first nine times I dropped by looking for work.” He grinned proudly. “So the tenth time, I busted into her most secure warehouse, neutralized half her staff, stole the most valuable crate in the whole place and then brought it back to her the next day.”

“And that worked?”

“Not exactly. Her second, Aeneas, tied me to a chair and very nearly killed me, but it did get her attention. And her respect. We came up with a pretty good deal and she’s been my most reliable associate ever since. Best work, consistent pay, good trust. We like working together.”

“And sleeping together,” Leta prompted. Fiearius stared at her, stunned, and Leta went on quickly, “Right? The first time I visited Archeti on the Dionysian, you told Cyrus you were sleeping with her.”

Fiearius’ expression shifted with alarm. “Leta, I haven’t — ” He took a step closer. “Yeah, okay, we used to, but not since–” He gestured between the two of them. “Us. Is that what this is about? Because I haven’t. You seriously think I’d–”

“No. No, I don’t think that. Not really. I’m not accusing you of still sleeping with her.” She took a deep breath, shaking her head. “But something’s going on with you, Fiear. The last few months or so. You’re acting differently.”

Fiearius tilted his head at her. “Differently how? I mean, yeah, I haven’t been feeling that great lately, ‘cause of the cold and all, but–”

“It’s not just that. You’ve barely been sleeping. You’re completely distracted. Something’s been going on with you.”

He regarded her with interest, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to feel amused. “So you thought I was being unfaithful?”

“No, not exactly.” She paused, and in a worried rush, she said, “But I can read you and you’re hiding something from me so please just tell me what it is.”

Fiearius opened his mouth. She thought he would deny it, but then, to her surprise, he closed his mouth tightly again. The mirth faded from his hazel eyes as he searched her over, and for one moment Leta thought he was about to make a confession.

But then he couldn’t. On the other side of the bathroom door, the console began to beep loudly, and it kept on beeping without pause.

Leta cast Fiearius a look of distress. “That’s Corra, she always calls after we finish raids. Just one second,” she said, hurrying to tighten the towel around her chest. “It’s a video-call, so put some clothes on, would you?” she added over her shoulder.

Fiearius grunted, but reluctantly wrapped a towel around his waist as Leta sat down at the console and without glancing at the screen, accepted the call.

“Corra, hi, sorry, can I — “

But it wasn’t Corra staring back at her on the screen. It was Ren. There was no denying those crooked glasses, soft kind eyes, angular jaw, and now, the look of absolute horror on his face.

“Is this — er– a bad time?” he muttered uneasily, and Leta realized how this looked: half-dressed, with sopping wet hair and a shirtless Fiearius standing behind her. With his bed and shower in full view. Leta actually closed her eyes in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Ren.” She gritted her teeth, feeling her face burn red. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else calling. Is everything alright?”

“I’ll make it quick,” he promised. Then he spared Fiearius a quick, searching look, and Leta realized this moment — this horrible moment — was the first time he and Fiearius had ever truly met.

For a moment, stiff silence enveloped the room. Then Ren said, “Well, hey there, captain. You, er, look a little different than in the posters.”

“Posters?” said Leta and Fiearius together.

“Oh, you haven’t seen them?” Ren looked bitterly amused. “Ah. Well, they’re the Society’s new preferred form of propaganda. All over the span — photo of your likeness, with the words ‘Beware the Rogue Verdant.”

Fiearius lifted his brow mildly. “Huh. Posters. That’s new.”

“Anyway — I wanted to ask.” He looked back to Leta. “Have you heard anything from Vescent recently? Are you in contact with anyone there?”

Leta shook her head. “Only Daelen, but he fled months ago. So no. I’m not. I’d be putting people there in danger.”

Ren pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, at this point, they may be in more danger than you.”

Leta slid a glance toward Fiearius. “What do you mean?”

“Something strange is happening on Vescent,” said Ren. “I can’t exactly say what, but–it’s odd. After you destroyed Blackwater, the Society’s been sending out agents from all over to fight the Carthians, Vescent included. And the fleet coming out of Vescent is–different. Their strategic behavior doesn’t match anything the rest of the fleets are doing and the prisoners Carthis has taken? They’re just off.

“Off how?”

“The agents off Vescent … their behavior is erratic. And it’s difficult to explain and we’ve no idea why. That’s the worse part. All of the people Carthis has planted in the city have dropped out of contact all of a sudden. You remember my friends from university? They’ve been keeping me updated on the state of things since I got out, but now? Nothing.” Ren furrowed his brow. “No response from any of them.”

Leta pressed her mouth to her hands. “I hope they’re okay.”

“Me too. Anyway, I’m sorry to have bothered you. I was just hoping maybe someone had some information. I’m getting worried. We all knew the Society was growing there, but I think something bigger than even we imagined has happened.”

“I suppose being on the same ship is kind of awkward. But what about your brother and Leta? They make it work, clearly.”

“True, but Leta’s not a captain. If something happened between them, she would probably just leave, as unfortunate as that is, and the awkwardness would pass,” Cyrus pointed out. “But if something happens between both your captains? Then what?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t seem that bad of an — “

“Awkwardness, Addy,” Cyrus interrupted, his voice menacing. “Think of the awkwardness.”

Addy laughed. “You’d know about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Hey…”

“Oh, I’m kidding.”

“No you’re not,” Cyrus grumbled and then went on, “I don’t know, as long as they’re happy I guess. Just shipboard romances can be weird I think.”

“That’s true.” Addy paused, and then said, “Maybe it’s better to be in a romance on different ships?” in a sly voice that made Cyrus go suddenly red.

“You think so?” he said, flustered. “So is that what–” But before he could finish, a much less welcome voice cut in over the speakers.

“Cy, we’re closing in on the bridge, what’s it looking like?” said Fiearius, his voice crackling through the static.

“–this is?” Cyrus finished lamely, swinging his feet off the console and looking down at the monitor, confused.

“What is?” Fiearius said impatiently.

“Hey is everything o–” Addy began.

“Wait, you’re seriously on the COMM with your girlfriend right now? In the middle of a raid?”

At this point, Cyrus was certainly as red as he was capable of being. “N-no, I–”

“Not as if we have more important things to do or anything,” Fiearius went on.

Cyrus dragged his hand down his face. “Addy, I’ll call you back later.” He hung up the call and added to Fiearius, “You are such an ass.”

“And you are such a bad lookout,” Fiearius countered. “Status report, let’s go.”

Cyrus heaved a troubled sigh. “Alright. There’s only one red dot in the bridge. It’s all yours.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Relax,” Leta hissed, giving the rope a tough tug. “Don’t move.”

The ship’s captain did as she was told: wide-eyed and fearful, the woman sat trembling against the wall of the bridge as Leta tied her wrists to the pipe above her head.

“Please — ” the captain breathed, “don’t hurt the crew — “

She was so petrified that Leta felt the fleeting impulse to set her free. But the sight of the librera stitched into her jacket stiffened her resolve.

“We won’t,” Leta muttered sharply. “We’re just taking the ship. Now hold still.”

The woman flinched when Leta pulled her long knife out from her hip, but it was only to quickly slice off the rope. It was the same knife she’d stolen from Ophelia, the knife she’d used to stab her in the leg and save her own life. Now, Leta always kept the blade close by, like a talisman. “Guess this is yours now, eh?” Fiearius had said a few nights ago when he’d found it lying on his nightstand in his room. And Leta decided he was right.

Still, she didn’t plan to use it for violence. Holding the knife in her teeth, she quickly tied off the knot then got to her feet and stood back, satisfied.

Behind her, Fiearius was at the helm of the ship, speaking into the communications console to its sister ships. Leta turned around just as Fiearius grunted, “Quin, we’re not dumping them on Eyyam.”

“Why not?” said Quin’s disbelieving voice over the speaker. “You don’t want me shootin’ ‘em, what’s wrong with just leavin’ ‘em someplace? It’s a nice little moon, it’s close by–”

“It’s a barren desert with no civilization save a few remote tribes of junkies,” Fiearius groaned. “It’d be more humane to shoot them at that point.”

“Well then,” Quin concluded simply.

Fiearius rolled his eyes. “We’ll take them back to Archeti, put them on a passenger ship and send them home, simple as that.”

Silence filled the line for a moment before she replied, “You’re damn lucky I like you, sweetheart, that’s all I gotta say.”

“I count my blessings every day,” Fiearius muttered, exchanging a dull look with Leta. Before they could leave, another voice broke out from the third ship over the COMM.

“Soliveré! Did you–have ya seen this ship?! This–I’ve never seen anythin’ like it, it’s–geezus is that a–holy lord above–”

Fiearius threw a hand to his forehead, impatient. “Everything alright, Rax?”

Rax was an arms trader from a backwater planet on the very edge of Synechdan. He wasn’t the brightest ally to have, but he’d cornered the market in a very needy area and he had the manpower to back it up. Plus, when Fiearius had asked if he was interested in joining their raiding party against the Society of all people, he was one of the few who hadn’t laughed in his face.

“Alright?! “ Rax repeated. “God, Soliveré, this is–Have I thanked you for bringing me in on this?”

“You have, Rax,” Fiearius assured him.

“Well I’m doin’ it again, I — “

“Let’s all meet at the rendezvous point in an hour. See you then.” And just as Rax went to answer, Fiearius hit ‘disconnect.’

Just then, Eve came pounding into the room, her rifle angled over her shoulder in a proud march. “We did it, cap’n! Whole ship is ours!”

“Sure is,” said Fiearius, “now let’s get the hell out of here.”

Fiearius crossed toward the door, but not without throwing his forearm in front of his mouth and hacking a terrible cough.

Eve’s face flickered with concern. “You alright, cap’n? You don’t look so hot, you’re all pale and gross-lookin’ — “

“Thanks,” Fiearius muttered dismissively, but Leta lingered in the doorway, blocking him from leaving.

“You’re still feeling ill?” she said in disbelief, searching him over.

“I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

“Colds usually last a week. You’ve been getting this on and off for over a month.”

“Well it’s a particularly bad cold,” he said, squinting his eyes as he held off another cough. He veered around her into the hallway, but Leta followed on his heels.

“Please just let me do some tests when we get back to the ship,” she pleaded. “Just to see if it’s a virus or — “

Fiearius cast her a dark look. “Thought you decided you weren’t my doctor anymore,” he pointed out. “It’s unethical or something, right?”

“Fiear, let me — “

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, relax,” he said and coughed again just as he was adding, “I’m fine. It’ll pass.”

“She could be right, Fiearius,” put in Dez suddenly from across the hallway. “It seems to be getting worse again. Perhaps you should take something for it.”

Fiearius glared at him and then said, “Dez, fly the ship to the rendezvous. Harper, keep an eye on our guests.” He gestured to the captain and the other Society agents locked on the lower deck. To Leta, he said, “Stop worrying about me. I promise you. I’ll be fine.”

– – – – – –

Hours later, after they’d all successfully returned to the Dionysian, the crew began to riotously celebrate. They’d gained another victory against the Society, after all, so laughter, music and the clanking of liquor bottles filled the crew lounge in a happy din.

But Leta didn’t feel like celebrating. Something — and she wasn’t sure what — was  quietly nagging at her. So she’d finished only half a bottle of beer before retreating up to Fiearius’ bedroom and closing the bathroom door behind her to take a hot shower.

The water was on, making clouds of steam fill the room, when there was a low knock on the door. Leta was wrapped only in a towel, but she knew it was Fiearius and was unsurprised when he slipped his lanky frame inside, gently closing the door behind him.

Early the next morning, Fiearius did not hesitate. Quietly as he could, he slid his arms away from Leta’s sleeping figure and dressed quickly in the dark. Seconds later, he was descending the staircase to the lowest deck, his feet pounding down the metal steps. Even at this early hour, he guessed the observation deck would not be empty, and sure enough …

Dez was in upon the bench facing the great black window, reading a book. Fiearius approached, dropped his hand into his pocket and tossed the bottle of pills into his lap.

“Here,” he said abruptly. “I’m not taking these anymore. You can keep ‘em.”

He turned on his heel to leave but Dez spoke up, sounding curious.

“Can I ask why?”

Fiearius turned back, frowning. There was a multitude of reasons to refuse Flush, especially after last night. The burn of Leta’s green eyes flashed through his mind.

But all he said was, “Because I don’t need it anymore. My legs are fully healed.”

“Do you not remember the last time you went cold turkey?”

He meant the withdrawals. Of course Fiearius remembered. He’d been bedridden in excruciating pain for nearly a month. Aela had been forced to restrain him to keep him from injuring himself. Flush on its own hit hard and he’d seen first hand that its withdrawal hit harder.

But that didn’t change his decision.

“Thanks for the concern, but I’ll manage,” he said briskly as he moved toward the door. He’d have to manage. And hope to the gods it wouldn’t be so agonizing this time.

“Perhaps,” Dez mused with a shrug. “What about today?”

For the second time, Fiearius froze on the edge of the doorway. “What about today?”

“Will you manage today?” Dez asked as though it were the most mundane question in the Span. When Fiearius said nothing, he went on, “I cared for him too. Whether you’d like to believe that or not.”

Fiearius slowly turned around, shocked. But of course, Dez had been a part of Denarian’s life. A most unlikely babysitter, but the kid had been fond of him. It was something Fiearius had long forgotten. He had a hard enough time holding onto his own memories of Denarian, let alone memories of Denarian and a very different Desophyles than the one that stood before him now.

“For what little it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened to him,” Dez continued as Fiearius fixed his stare on him. “I’m not sure I ever had the chance to say it. But I’m sorry. He was a good person. He didn’t deserve such a cruel fate.”

Fiearius moved his eyes past Dez. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze. “No,” was all he managed. “No he didn’t.”

“I won’t soon forget the day I first met him. Barely three days old. Tiny and fragile and a funny shade of pink.” Dez frowned. “He then proceeded to piss on me.”

At that, Fiearius couldn’t hold back a pained laugh. “He always was a good judge of character.”

“Especially for someone so very small,” Dez agreed.

“D’ya remember Architan?” Fiearius asked suddenly.

“Was that the vile monkey toy you bought him? That made the screeching noise?”

“That’s the one. Y’know he only liked that stupid monkey because you told him you hated it so much.”

Dez raised his brows with interest. “Like father like son I suppose.”

Fiearius shrugged a shoulder, feeling his spirits lighten. He’d never been able to speak to anyone about Denarian quite like this. Not since he’d passed. No one on the Dionysian had ever known him. They weren’t a part of that chapter of his life and today of all days, there was something incredibly relieving to be found in the company of someone who had been.

But as relieved as he may have been, the seed of doubt started to sprout when Dez asked, “Have you decided what you intend to do next?”

Fiearius’ jaw tightened. “I have,” was all he said.

“And?”

But before Fiearius would give him the benefit of an answer, he had to know. He stepped forward, full of steel.

“First, tell me why. Why you want to–I don’t know, what are you trying to do? Get supporters? Start a rebellion against the Society or something? Why?”

Dez lowered the book in his lap and sat up straighter. “You of all people, who would have his son by his side today were it not for the Society, have to ask me that?”

Anger struck him, but Fiearius’ voice was even when he said, “You don’t want a rebellion for my son.”

“Not only for your son, no,” said Dez. “But you weren’t the only one to lose someone to the Society.”

At that, Fiearius bit the inside of his mouth and went coldly quiet.

It was too easy to forget about Dez’s family. They too had paid debts to the Society in blood. Dez had four brothers. Two of them had been killed in action as Internal Affairs agents. A third had been taken out by one of their Internal coworkers for accidentally leaking information. As far as Fiearius knew, only Dez’s youngest sibling and his mother survived.

But it still didn’t add up. “You were the most loyal agent out there for years,” said Fiearius sharply. “Since you joined. Through all the deaths. What changed?”

“I was shown the right path,” said Dez simply.

Fiearius groaned and put his hand over his eyes. “Oh not this again. So that’s the answer? The dov’ha told you to do it?”

“Just because you’ve strayed from your faith doesn’t mean you should insult mine.”

“Didn’t have much faith to stray from,” Fiearius muttered, but Dez had already went on.

“The dov’ha told me nothing, but they made clear to me the path that we are on. The path we have always been on. When I saw you under the effects of the ARC treatment, I understood. All the lives that we have taken, the deaths we have claimed, the deaths we have caused. Don’t you see? Everything has lead us to this moment. Losing Denarian, losing my brothers, losing our power, it was all inevitable. And now is our moment to mend what we have broken.”

“So it’s vengeance,” Fiearius said bluntly. “You could just say you want vengeance, y’know.”

“It’s more than vengeance, Fiearius. It’s justice. It’s our divine calling. You can try to swerve away from the path as much as you like, but you’ll always come back to it. You’ll complete the circle eventually.”

Fiearius just shook his head. “Good to know you’re still nuts. At least some things never change,” he muttered. “But I’m not looking to overthrow anything. Nor am I going to ‘rally’ anybody. Or start anything. And it’s sure as hell not any circle. But.” He took a deep breath. “I have decided we’ll be moving forward with this attacking the Society thing.” At Dez’s satisfied smirk, he snapped, “But only because we have no other choice.”

“Of course,” Dez admitted, his tone laced with innocence. “Whatever lie you need to tell yourself to complete the dov’ha’s will. However. If you intend to continue on this path, you’ll need this back.”

He stood up and held out the small pill bottle.

“No,” Fiearius said simply. “No, I really won’t.”

“You’re better on it Fiearius and you know it. You’ll be at a disadvantage if you’re not.”

“No. I won’t.”

“If you don’t take it, you won’t have the focus to complete this.”

“Don’t care.”

He thrust it at him again. “You must take it, Fiearius.” But Fiearius knocked it out of his hand. As the bottle fell to the floor with a clatter, Dez observed him skeptically.

And then, his voice colder than ice, he asked, “It’s because of her isn’t it?”

Fiearius’ body went very still. “Excuse me?” he asked, daring him to go on.

Dez leveled him a steady, knowing stare. “It’s because of the girl. Your little mistake. You’re afraid it’ll upset her.”

Fiearius took a step closer to him. “If I were you,” he growled, “I’d watch what I–”

“She’s leading you in the wrong direction, Fiearius. She’s weak. She can’t do what needs to be done. You and I are on this path because we’re prepared for it. She is not. She will slow you down and trip you up again and again.”

“She’s not weak,” Fiearius spat, his fist twitching at his side. A few more words and Fiearius knew it would have been his job to plant it in Dez’s face. “Why don’t you just–”

“She’s drawn you in with empty promises of love and affection, but if she truly knew you, she would leave in a heartbeat. You keep yourself from her and you know it. You hide your darker edges,” he gestured towards the Flush on the floor, “because you know she’d turn her back on you if she knew.”

With a growl, Fiearius stepped forward and seized Dez’s collar, tugging him towards him. “You best mind your words, Dez — ”

“Yes,” Dez agreed, unphased by the physical contact. “And you best mind your nature.”

With another growl, Fiearius released him and pushed him away. He could think of nothing left to do but turn on his heel and stalk from the room, his mind racing.