“Cortes!”

Cheng’s voice rang out into the still air. But it was already too late. The boy slipped down to his knees, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Dahlia crouched down and put her arms around him.

Wayan stood behind them. He felt a shudder run through his body. They weren’t supposed to lose Cortes like this.

----

Cortes thought he heard Cheng shout his name. Had he imagined it? Even as he strained to catch and hold onto that faint sound, his body accelerated, and every sound was snatched away in the roar of rushing air.

He was falling. His stomach felt as if it was up in his throat. He knew he was spinning through the air but he couldn’t tell which way was up or down, something that seemed like it should’ve been easy when he was plummeting. Even with the blindfold on, Cortes squeezed his eyes shut. He was stuck between the fear, and a strange sense of calm. As seconds ticked by, seconds that seemed like minutes or hours, the fear almost disappeared. In the darkness and the white noise, Cortes almost felt peaceful.

A part of him still knew that peacefulness would soon be shattered, just like every bone in his body when he finally smashed into a chunk of loose earth.

Why haven’t I hit anything!? Anger and fear came rushing back. He just wanted this to be over. He wrested at the tie around his wrists, but that only made it cut in, and his body spun through the air even more.

His shoulder smacked into something briefly. A clank like metal. Had he hit some sky debris? His heart rate increased further; he was now sure his impact with some object was imminent.

He smacked into something again, hard. Cortes felt pain jolt up his spine. The roar of rushing air cut out as he impacted a half dozen more times, before coming to rest on his side. It was quiet except for the ragged sound of his own breathing as he gasped to pull in oxygen snatched away by either the movement of air or his own fear. Pain tugged at some misaligned nerve in his back, but it had lost its initial sharp edge and was somewhat bearable. He should’ve smashed everything in his body, why didn’t it hurt more!? Was his body just in too much shock? Cortes couldn’t see where he was. He couldn’t move, both from the awkward position and tied wrists, and the fact he was shaking so much.

What the hell was happening to him now?

----

Mahad slammed the Hyperion’s throttle into the neutral position. The ship slowed its rapid descent, and eventually levelled out. Before everything had completely stabilised, Mahad had already jerked the lever which caused the pilots seat to drop down into the Hyperion’s hold.

The boy’s heart thumped in his chest as he stumbled over the edge of one of the benches, and dashed into the tight machine room. He was sure he’d lined up the entry hatch perfectly… but he was unsure about the speed at which he’d let the ship fall. He thought he had felt the impact jolt the ship all the way from the cockpit, though that may have only been his frayed nerves.

Mahad rounded the corner, and skidded to a halt on the smooth metal floor. He’d almost been scared there would be no one there. In reality, he knew he had lined the ship up true. Cortes lay on his side in the bottom of the Hyperion’s hold.

Mahad drew in a quick breath. Was he okay? He didn’t trust his voice for the moment, and stepped over. The man was visibly shaking. Mahad knelt, and swallowed quickly. “Cortes…” he touched a hand to the man’s shoulder.

Cortes’ body jerked under the touch, and Mahad almost got kicked in the leg. “Ma… had?” Cortes’ voice was shaking almost as much as he was.

“Yeah… are you okay?”

“I… can’t see anything…”

Mahad pulled the blindfold from around Cortes’ face. “Here…”

Cortes blinked, and tried to push himself up off the ground. It didn’t work so well with his wrists tied. His face contorted and he let out a noise somewhat between a cry and a groan.

“Hang on…” Mahad turned away. Cortes sounded like he was in pain. Just seeing him lying on the ground like that unable to move… Mahad knew he’d done that to him. Cortes had saved his life. Look what he’d done to him!

Mahad bit his lip as he quickly searched through the pile of tools in the corner. He found a wire cutter, but didn’t turn back around until he’d forced the tears building behind his eyes back down. He stepped behind Cortes, cut his bonds, and then moved back around in front of him to help him up off the floor.

Cortes sat up a little stiffly, letting Mahad guide him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Mahad,” said Cortes, drawing in a sharp breathe.

This wasn’t true; Mahad could feel him shaking still. He looked pale and was sweating despite the cool air around them. “Cortes… I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, I swear! I just… I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you in the first place.”

“It’s okay…” said Cortes slowly. “You just saved my life…”

“Cortes!” Mahad could barely believe this. “I nearly got you killed! I made a stupid, stupid mistake! You should be yelling at me! You should be… heck there’s no one else here, you can hit me if you want! I probably deserve it!”

Cortes managed to focus on Mahad then, staring hard at him. “I am not going to hit you, Mahad.”

Mahad just stared back. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He felt the tears well behind his eyes again, but this time he couldn’t stop them. A sob racked his body, and he suddenly found himself grasping onto the front of Cortes’ jacket. He hadn’t realised how scared he’d been of losing him. He’d always taken Cortes for granted; always found himself annoyed at him for trying to tell him what to do, and just wishing he’d leave him be. But Cortes had nearly gotten himself killed just trying to save him. “I’m sorry…” Mahad clung to the Captain, knowing he was being childish, but not really caring.

Cortes held the teenager against himself for a brief moment. This would normally make him feel uncomfortable, but he was still so shaken from the fall that having someone close to him was a comfort. But this wasn’t about him, and eventually Cortes pushed Mahad back, forcing the boy to look at him again. “Look Mahad, it’s alright. Things worked out, and… I’m grateful you caught me, really I am. It doesn’t matter now, alright?”

Mahad blinked rapidly as he fought to clear his eyes. “What do you mean it worked out? You nearly got killed. Other people probably got killed because of what I did…”

Cortes sighed. “I don’t know whether those Sphere ships would’ve turned on the bloc if you hadn’t attacked them, Mahad. You never know with the Sphere. But, yeah, I was pretty sure we could very easily get ourselves in trouble with Catherine. Look, all I want from you is…” he paused and drew in another deep breath. He was still trying to pull himself together. “I don’t know how to get through to you, lad. Mahad, you need to listen to me; I’m not just trying to stop you having fun, I’m stopping you for a reason. I want you to just try and listen to me? Please?”

“Yeah… okay…” Mahad nodded again. Cortes had nearly given his life; surely he could at least try to do this? It didn’t escape him that Cortes had been trying to get him to listen to him for quite some time. It had nearly taken the Captain getting himself killed to make him realise the gravity that was actually behind the request.

“… I really don’t want to go through that again,” said Cortes, his voice barely a whisper.

Mahad looked down at the ground, again ashamed.

“I’m grounding you and the Hyperion until further notice,” Cortes said, clearing his throat. “You don’t go anywhere without a direct order or my express permission. Alright?”

Mahad nodded. He had no choice but to accept the punishment. He could have got much worse. “You need a hand getting up?” he eventually asked.

Cortes nodded, and let Mahad get an arm around his back, letting him help take his body’s weight. The muscles in his back still twinged every time he moved. Cortes grunted.

“You’re hurt?”

“It’s okay; it’s just my back… I’m fine.”

Mahad wasn’t entirely sure he should believe him. Again, he felt bad. “Cortes… thanks for saving my life,” he said, a little guiltily. “I didn’t deserve it. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to. And I’d do it again.”

“If I can get this right, and start listening to you, you won’t have to.”

----

They had to wait a few hours. It took this long for the Saint Nazaire to leave Catherine’s bloc, and get out of their sensor range. It would be best not to tempt fate by returning to the ship too soon.

Cortes had sat down in the passenger seat up in the cockpit, and eventually dozed off. Mahad let him be, until they got close enough to safely make contact with the Saint Nazaire.

“Hey, Cortes…” Mahad reached across the cockpit and gently shook the man’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” Cortes blinked himself awake, and looked sleepily over at Mahad.

“We’re nearly at the Saint Nazaire… you want to call them?” He smiled slightly. “I think they might want to hear your voice.”

Cortes seemed to think for a moment, or perhaps he was still waking up. “You call them,” he said eventually. “My voice out of the blue may be a bit of a shock…” He trailed off as it occurred to him that his crew probably thought he was dead.

Mahad activated the radio. “Saint Nazaire… this is Mahad.” He paused. “Permission to dock?”

Eventually, there was a response. “We were wondering when you were going to turn back up.” It was Dahlia. Her reply wasn’t cold; she simply sounded tired, and perhaps actually glad he’d returned. “Dock’s ready for you.”

Mahad paused again, glancing at Cortes. “I’ve… got someone here you guys might want to talk to…”

Cortes leaned forward, suddenly not sure exactly what to say. “Mind if I come aboard?” he eventually said.

Within seconds the radio let out a burst of noise. It almost sounded like static, except it wasn’t. It was many voices crowded around one receiver and talking at the same time.

“Cortes, are you okay!? I thought you were… gone…” The radio had quietened down, and Cheng’s voice eventually became clear through what had previously been a buzz of grey noise.

“Yeah, I’m fine, lad. Don’t worry. I’ll be on the Saint Nazaire in a minute.” A faint smiled tugged at Cortes’ lips, the first since he’d crashed into the bottom of the Hyperion a couple hours ago.

Even with the feeling of guilt still weighing upon him, Mahad couldn’t help smiling as well.

----

It was inevitable, but months later the news came to Catherine’s bloc that the Captain of the Saint Nazaire was alive and well. Catherine may have expressed doubts about the success of the rebellion, but they were making enough of a difference that people knew who Cortes was.

Catherine scowled, making the woman in uniform standing across from her feel uncomfortable.

“What do we do…?” the woman eventually asked. “He’s avoided our laws. And you’re always saying they must be upheld no matter what…”

“What can we do? Outside our bloc we have no jurisdiction…” Catherine frowned. “Although… we did throw him off the bloc; that’s all the law specified…”

“Perhaps if the law is so easily avoided… it needs to be changed?”

“No! The law does not change. Perhaps they’ll come back, and then we can ensure justice is done. Until then… well…” she shrugged. “We did throw him off the bloc.”