Author's Note: I am so bad. I am really, really bad, but despite the fact I have so many stories going, I just can't stop starting new ones. The idea just hit me, and it was filling my head, and I knew I'd never get any rest until I typed it out, so here it goes…

Summary- Stockholm Syndrome-"describes the behavior of victims who, over time, become sympathetic to their captors." Starling has been defeated and taken to Cyclonia, but as hard as she fights back, no one is prepared for what happens there...DA/S. Is written from Starling's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Storm Hawks. Enjoy!


I sped through the air, blasts of energy scorching the air right and left of my skimmer, but I couldn't help but feel satisfied with my impromptu raid on Terra Bogatron.

Yes, I know—Starling and impromptu, two things that you'd never guess would go together. Just like Starling and irresponsible, or Starling and happy, or Starling and fun, or Starling and carefree.

I'm a very different person than I was five years ago. It was just five years, five years to the day, when I was sixteen, fresh out of the Sky Knight Academy, and chosen by the Interceptors. It took less than a year for them to become more than just friends--my family. Less than a year for the disgusting mutants called Raptors to rip them away from me. I only survived because I was tough, tough and lucky.

So for five years I had lived on my own, and ignored the offers of help from other Sky Knight squadrons. Even the Storm Hawks, who reminded me of myself when I was younger, I turned down—it was just too hard to let anyone get close to my already bleeding heart. I became cool and logical, a revered fighter, and utterly obsessed with ridding Atmos of evil. No one should have to go through what I had gone through. No one deserves to be orphaned at age three because of Cyclonians, and then, when you truly start to open up again for the first time, have everyone dear to you ripped away again. It was easier to be bitter than to risk such pain.

Today was the day that my dreams came true, before the dreams were turned into a nightmare, so today was the day I hated Repton the most.

Thus the impromptu raid on Terra Bogatron. I was flying, and I was hit by the brilliant idea. It was stupid, it was irresponsible, and it was fun.

I guess I still was a kid underneath. Life had twisted me, made me hard, but I was just a little girl. Well, little girls can still kick and scream, I thought grimly, violet energy coursing through me as I zapped down one of Repton's gang with my nunckucks. Oh, yeah, I was enjoying every second of this.

A blast of red light hit my skimmer, bringing me back to the present. One of the spineless turds must have called for backup, as a bunch of Talons were in front of me. I laughed, surprising even myself, then twisted, dodging more blows and flew straight at them.

Did I have a death wish today or what? I mean, raiding an enemy Terra and now a suicidal frontal assault on these Talons.

Deep down, I think a part of me died on that fateful day, when I watched them die, helpless to intervene. I've been living for five years on borrowed time. If today is the day I go down, at least they can say I went out with a bang.

Once I decided that I was, after all, going to die, it was a lot easier to face the Talons. I shot a few down, then, not bothering to pull up, whipped through their tight formations before coming out behind them. The Raptors, who lacked my aerial finesse, crashed right into their Cyclonian allies.

Starling 1, Cyclonians, 0. Take that, you nasty, evil—WHAM! Another blast of red energy hit my skimmer, and my wing started smoking. Biting my lip, I flew towards another three Talons, one stroking his mustache. They didn't move their skimmers. Big mistake.

KABOOM! I leapt off my skimmer at the last second, landing on another Cyclonian's wing, as my sky ride crashed on and took down all three of the idiots who had been too confident to move. I quickly pushed the Talon off, sending him screaming down towards the Wasteland with his companions, until their parachutes kicked in.

I turned the skimmer around, grinning. This one was heavier and responded less than what I was used to, so I made a mental note. The huge force of Cyclonians looked a lot less cocky about fighting me now.

"Ssstupid humans! She's just a little girl," Repton hissed.

"Oh, really?" I taunted. "Then come take me yourself!" Revenge, sweet revenge. Today was my lucky day.

I shot a few blasts of purple light at him, which he dodged and deflected easily. Our skimmers began circling one another, our eyes locked. We were both predators, hunting for the kill.

He threw his glowing knife and it whipped around like a boomerang, towards my heart. I yanked the skimmer to the side but the controls were slower than I was used to, and the weapon slit my arm. Stupid mental note, this is where you're supposed to come in handy!

I jumped up, timing it so I did my 'special move' on Repton just as he was reaching to catch his knife, and was thus distracted. It worked, throwing him off his skimmer as he flew unconscious through the air. Now all I needed was one more blow to his helpless, unconscious form, and…

The Talons were reforming around him, protecting him from me, and his gang grabbed him and whisked him off. My arm was bleeding fairly heavily, now, but I was angry. I would stop myself from blacking out with sheer willpower.

Two Talons stupidly got too close to me, and my nunchucks whipped out, a whirl of purple crystals, destroying their skimmers. The rest of the Talons stared uncertainly at me. I must have been quite a sight, blood dripping from my arm, a desperate and probably maniacal gleam in my eye, I imagine quite an evil smile. They were being intimidated, by me, of all people, when there was almost no fight left in me. Ha.

There was a hum, signifying more skimmers approaching. Seriously, was calling for help the only thing these guys were good for? I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. More to bring down with me.

I launched myself into them, whirling, slashing, trying to stay alive, and losing all rational thought. I'm not sure how long I was like that. I'm not sure how many of them I took down, before I heard that voice.

"Give it up, kid."

I whirled, whipping my nunchucks down in a potentially-fatal blow which he easily deflected with his red energy-blade. Our bodies locked as we strained against each other. I stared into his merciless crimson eyes, refusing to be intimidated. "I never lose. So that mean's you're going to, sweetheart."

"You never lose? Oh, I suppose all those fights with Aerrow don't count," I said in a syrupy voice. His eyes narrowed. I, on the other hand, smiled, enjoying his anger. "And I have a name. It's Starling of the Interceptors."

"Oh, yes, Star-girl of the dead squadron, who hasn't heard of you?" I gritted my teeth, ignoring him and his insults. The only thing that mattered was this fight.

In the end, he proved stronger, hurling me backwards onto the nose of his skimmer. I jumped back to my feet, blinking sweat out of my eye. Reaching a hand up, I discovered that it wasn't sweat, it was blood. I spat at him, whirling my weapon and looking for an opening.

"Look, give up now, Star-girl, and I won't have to hurt your pretty little face," he taunted. I ignored him, watching carefully, waiting—NOW! I darted it, whipping my weapon back up, but he was too fast, and blocked it easily. "You'll have to do better than that," he laughed.

I tried to kick out his knee, but only succeeded in disrupting my own balance and hurting my foot. He laughed, pushing me back lightly. I stumbled, and fell on my back again, but this time, I couldn't leap up. This time, his red energy blade crackled at my throat.

"You're brave, I'll give you that. Brave, determined, or incredibly stupid. Most likely a mix of the three. You'll make a good Cyclonian Talon, if the process doesn't kill you."


So what do you think? Is it hopeless, or should I start writing the next chappie so it's ready to post tomorrow? You're the judge! Just hit that Review Chapter/Story button. It's that easy!