To observe a Crow walking through a crowd was always a fascinating sight.

It was an art of subtlety, a pure showing of psionic mastery that held no audience, because that was the purpose behind it.

Caelum watched, entranced, as the two Crows strode side by side, their gait never changing as people avoided them without even realizing they were doing it. Their gazes slid off of the Crows as if they weren't even there, subconsciously changing direction, stopping to look at their circlets, or brushing just a hair's breadth away past them. So many people, and not a single one of them noticed the living embodiments of death in their presence.

Caelum wondered if he would ever reach that point. If he'd ever be able to exert such an effortless wide-scale psychic manipulation. He was beginning to doubt it, as he and his fellow Sparrow Sorin were forced to weave between the crowd, earning a dirty look when Caelum accidentally bumped into someone while watching the Crows.

"Nice one." Sorin laughed, and Caelum felt his face go hot when his luggage tipped over behind him. Cursing as he bent down to right it, he hurriedly looked up to see that in that brief moment the Crows had already stepped onto an escalator leading to the spaceport's customs center.

Despite laughing at him, Sorin stayed with his fellow Sparrow, patiently waiting until Caelum had gotten his suitcase back on its wheels and hurriedly lengthened his stride to catch up to their mentors. Sorin followed at a more sedate pace, looking at all of the Union advertisements on the walls. His own suitcase glided smoothly on its wheels behind him, and as he stepped onto the escalator a few moments after his peer did he heard a beep on his circlet.

"Welcome to the Union of Stars!" A pleasant, female voice chimed in his ear. Sorin frowned, his good mood vanishing as he recognized the tell-tale cadence of an AI's speech pattern. "You are in the spaceport located just outside the orbit of Averon Three. Would you like recommendations for planets and star systems to visit while i-".

"No." Sorin snapped, and heard another beep.

"Then we hope you enjoy your time in the Union!" It said, unfazed, and the soft green light on his circlet blinked out of existence.

Sorin closed his eyes and tapped his fingers to his temple, then his heart, sending a silent prayer to the God Emperor to give him the patience not to purge every Union resident in this spaceport. He enjoyed their imported fashion as much as the next Imperial citizen, but he would never be able to understand how they could possibly forget about the Platinum Star.

He looked up and caught Caelum doing the same thing, glancing back at him, and they smiled at each other. The flash of anger he'd felt receded, and he resumed looking at the advertisements. There were some propaganda pieces among the adverts, but he decided to ignore them, instead letting his eyes linger on the sequel to a simfilm he'd seen during his last visit to the Union.

Caelum felt a tiny vibration from his circlet, reading the message scrolling across his vision.

Want to catch Promethon II? He looked back and saw Sorin glancing at an advertisement for a simfilm he didn't recognize. He shook his head, pursing his lips as he typed a message back.

We don't have time to catch a simfilm. In case you forgot, we're on a mission.

Sorin rolled his eyes, having expected it but still disappointed. Kiss ass. We've been chasing dead ends for over almost two years now. One simfilm won't hurt.

Caelum didn't bother with a response, which prompted Sorin to send a flurry of vulgar emoticons across his vision. He barely managed to stop himself from flipping him off, instead muting communication for the next few minutes. Caelum smiled in satisfaction when he heard Sorin's gasp of disbelief, glancing back to see him glaring up at him.

"I am so kicking your ass." Sorin grumbled, and Caelum shrugged.

"You're welcome to try. Remember how that went last spar session?" He retorted, and the two people in between them hide laughter behind coughs as Sorin tries and fails to respond to the taunt, eventually resorting to flipping him off.

The escalator ride came to a stop, the Sparrows forced once again to weave in between the crowd as the Crow's confident stride through the area and psionic manipulation resumed. Until finally, all four members of their party arrived at the customs desk, a woman with chrome augments in her fingers tapping away at a keyboard in the air only she could see.

She looked up, smiling at the Crows and their Sparrows. "Hello." She said pleasantly, her blue hair tight in its bun. "Arrivals from out of system?"

"Out of Union." Caelum's mentor clarified in his soothingly deep voice, his tone just as pleasant. "We're representatives from the Empire."

The service member nodded, though everyone present caught the slight twitch in her brow and the slip of her smile before it's plastered onto her face again. She resumed typing away, before gesturing to a side hallway that led to an arrivals room. "If I could have all of you please wait in the lobby through there, an ambassador will meet you shortly."

Everyone nodded, walking as a group down the hallway. "I can help the next person!" The service member called out.

When they exited the hallway, it had led them to a far quieter section of the spaceport, a few people sitting in plush lounge chairs looking up at them with mild curiosity before they resumed staring into the air at screens only visible to them. A man wearing the same uniform as the woman at the desk approached them, chrome seams along his neck revealing hidden augments and a somehow even faker smile stuck on his face.

"The Imperial arrivals?" He asked, and the group nodded once more. "If you could give me your checked luggage details, we'll have them brought to you momentarily. In the meantime, we have a separate room for you to meet with the ambassador."

They touched their circlets to the service member's one at a time, and he nodded while gesturing at a room to the right.

It wasn't until they're in the room, the door closed behind them and worn carpet underneath their shoes, that Sorin openly cursed.

"Why do they all feel like they've got a rod stuck up their ass?" He grumbled. "Just talk to us like we're normal people."

This earned him a glance from Caelum's mentor, which caused him to shrink back just a bit, and Caelum jabbed him in the ribcage once the Crow's attention slid away.

"Oh come now Kaliban." Sorin's mentor, Calix, admonished lightly. "We're all out of uniform, allow them a bit of informality."

Kaliban shook his head, his expression neutral. "In uniform or out, we are guests of the Union, Twelve. Formality is expected at all times." He said quietly, and Sorin glanced between Caelum's solemn nod and Kaliban's stoic features, and shook his head. They were so alike it was almost weird. "And I would ask you to address me by number when in an unsecured area."

Calix sighed, raising his hands in defeat. "If that is what you would prefer, Seventeen." He said, though flashed Sorin a wink as he sat down on one of the couches in the area. Sorin followed suit, and Caelum hesitated as he glanced between them and Seventeen, who was still standing. The Crow nodded his permission, his features almost imperceptibly softening the way only Caelum seemed to notice they could, and he sat down beside his peer.

They waited in silence, Sorin scrolling through the air as he navigated the apps on his circlet, Twelve humming a tune Caelum didn't recognize while smiling slightly, and Seventeen standing with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed. Caelum decided to pass the time with the memory exercise Seventeen often had him perform.

He closed his own eyes, recalling the layout of the spaceport they had walked through. Recreating the environment in his mind, he slowly began to fill it with key details. Advertisements hovering in the air in hologram form. Pristine white floors, walls, and ceilings, without any seams to separate them. The odor of people who had spent too much time in the port or on a ship intermingling with disinfectant. Those same people fill out the space, their chatter drifting through the air. He tried to recall their outfits, but it all started to blur into one same outfit with different colors, so he moved on.

The service member at the desk was next. The full dress suit she wore, uniformly blue and white, the same color as every other service member in the port. The pores on her face, the slight but still noticeable makeup, the individual strands of her blue hair pulled almost too tight into her bun. Then he moved on to his companions, Sorin with his loose travel clothes, though still casually fashionable with their design. His startlingly orange eyes and wavy brown hair, the same color as Twelve's. Twelve's powder blue dress shirt and darker navy dress pants, brown hair tied back into a loose ponytail. His perpetual smile, the glint in his grey eyes that slightly unnerved Caelum. His sleeves rolled up, revealing the three black armbands connected by a central bar on his right arm.

Until finally he arrived at Seventeen. His own black dress shirt and pants, rolled back to reveal his own three arm bands, the form their nano-armor took when not in active use. Blonde hair that fell past his shoulders, solemn green eyes, the same color as his own. They held a weight to them that Twelve's didn't, the same weight all of the old Crows had, no matter how young they looked. Resigned, weary of their duties but filled with grim purpose.

He wondered, when the position of Seventeen was eventually passed onto him, if his own green eyes would eventually carry that same weight.

The door clicked open, and Caelum opened his eyes as everyone stood and turned to look at the newest arrival, while the images in his mind faded away. What replaced them was a shorter man with a slight build walking into the room flanked by security detail, his face very slightly pale and just a hint of fear in his eyes. Which also had a chrome outline to them, more subtle and elegant in their design than the service workers but still very augmented.

Sorin sent another silent prayer to the God Emperor, only barely stopping the scowl from appearing on his face when he remembered Kaliban's silent admonishment. It must have been their reliance on AI that led to the Union's fascination with slicing up parts of their body to replace it with machinery.

"Hello, my name is Noel Smith. It is a pleasure to meet all of you." The ambassador tapped his heart and extended his hand outwards with a stiff bow, a crude but passable imitation of an Imperial greeting that the group returned far more naturally. The two parties stared at each other in silence for a few moments, the Sparrows catching the ambassador's gaze subtly flicker towards the Crow's black armbands. They noticed his face paled just the slightest bit more, his smile straining slightly.

"We ensure that your ravens were treated with the utmost care." He said a bit too hurriedly, the giveaway that led Sorin to realize the ambassador knew what they were. His back straightened almost subconsciously, pride flaring up inside of him as out of the corner of his eyes he saw Caelum's posture do the same.

"We thank you for that." Seventeen replied smoothly. "Have they been brought here?"

The ambassador cleared his throat, sending a glance behind him at one of his security detail, who shook their head slightly. It was hard to tell their sex with the majority of their frame and face being covered by lithe, glowing power armor.

"I regret to say that they have not. They're still being held in customs, as is your luggage. We detected some… contraband items inside of them. Namely, a small arms selection in all suitcases." The ambassador said, before gesturing toward the seats.

The Sparrows and Crows all packed onto one couch, though were still able to maintain a comfortable amount of space between them as Noel sat on the opposite couch, his security detail standing behind him. Sorin realized that the security's glowing visors were trained solely on their mentors, power rifles held loosely in their grip. He wrestled with the smirk fighting its way onto his face. If the Crows wished to deal death in this moment, it would take more than power rifles to stop them.

The ambassador held up a hand behind him, and a member of his security detail reached to their side before placing a pistol in his grip. He laid it on the table between the two of them, and Sorin recognized the sleek and elegant design of imperial craftsmanship. He bristled in indignation when he realized he recognized more than that.

That's my pistol! He complained through a message to Caelum, who ignored him as the ambassador began speaking.

"Before the Union decides whether to let you off of this station and return your personal effects, or politely ask that you return to the Empire, I must first ask you the purpose of your visit." The ambassador says politely, and to his credit there isn't the slightest tremble in his voice. "To ease your minds I shall inform you that the Union Official in charge of this star system has given me the highest level of clearance and authority to make this decision."

Both Seventeen and Twelve nod, though the latter's smile widens dangerously. Both Caelum and Sorin swallow as they feel the flash of intent from him in the air, and Seventeen sends him a warning glance before returning his attention to the ambassador, who looked no more aware that he had earned the ire of a Crow than he had before.

"Of course." Seventeen said, tapping his circlet and raising it as three separate images sprang to life. The first is a handsome man with pale skin, his darker ginger hair slicked back as he grins cockily at the camera that had taken the picture. The second picture is of a beautiful, darker skinned young woman with red eyes, smiling at the camera. The last is of a young boy, no older than three, held in the arms of the previous woman. His skin was considerably lighter than the woman's, though the most striking of his features are his violet colored eyes. Both Caelum and Sorin reflexively made a warding gesture, tapping their temples and their hearts.

The ambassador studied the pictures for a moment, before nodding at Seventeen to continue.

"Seventeen years ago, this man," He gestured towards the first picture, "was paid by an Earl of the Empire to smuggle the woman and the boy out of the Hurile Star System. It would appear that he was able to not only get them out of that system, but deviated from his original destination in the Uruline System to instead smuggle them into the Union. Trent Bailin is his name.``

The group noticed the slightest flicker of recognition in the ambassador's eyes. "Trent Bailin, you said?" He asked, and the two Crows looked between each other before returning their attention to him.

"You recognize the name?"

The ambassador nodded, clearly troubled. "Yes. Though before I divulge any information, is he your reason for coming here?"

Twelve answered before Seventeen could, his smile growing. "One of them." He replied leisurely. "Though our ultimate goal is to… recover the two refugees he transported."

The ambassador nodded, still somewhat troubled. "Can we expect… disposal?" He asked, and Seventeen nodded.

"Should such action be necessary, then yes."

The ambassador pursed his lips, his brows furrowed slightly. "Then I'm afraid I cannot allow you to pursue your mission in the Union. I apologize for the wasted trip, but-"

"He smuggled a Vicara. That's who the kid is." Sorin interrupted, earning him glances from the Crows and a furious glare from Caelum.

What the hell, Sorin!? That's classified! He messaged angrily, but Sorin only subtly nodded towards the ambassador. Caelum turned to see that his face had paled with fear, his eyes wide.

"Trent Bailin is here on the station. He goes by a different name now, Allen Roe." He said, his voice quivering. "We will give you his whereabouts, and your weapons, immediately."

-

The station itself was more akin to a small city than a satellite. He knew some people lived their entire lives in it, though most only stayed for a few years at a time. Shops, streets, small motor vehicles. Everything he would normally expect to find on a planetary city, he saw here as their group walked through the crowd.

They each had the nav open in the corner of their vision while they walked, while the Crows had resumed their passive psionic manipulation. Their luggage had been taken to a hotel, and the ambassador had sworn that they'd be handled with the utmost care. Firearms weren't allowed in open spaces, and as Caelum looked past the floating ultraviolet lamps in the air to the glass revolving around the station, the empty black void of space just beyond it, he felt he could understand why. Instead, he and his fellow Sparrow had their knives in a hidden sheath at their boots. The Crows, on the other hand, had elected to forgo their weapons entirely.

They had no need for them here.

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Instead, their ravens were perched on their shoulders. They looked around idly, Caelum seeing their hyper intelligent gaze scanning the area for would be threats. But there were none here. Gazes once again slid off of their mentors' presence like water off of hydrophobic tile, not even noticing the way they subtly avoided the Crows' path.

When they were finally approaching the bar that Trent owned, Caelum could see a buff man standing outside of it looking bored.

Now is as good of a time as any.

Caelum pushed his consciousness outside of him in a slow wave, feeling each burning mass of thought and feeling pass by his mind as the boundaries of his consciousness flowed over the crowd like a slow tide. This in itself was a complicated step in empathic training, one he had only become remotely adequate in a year ago.

What the hell are you doing? He barely registered Sorin's messaged question at the corner of his mind, pushing it out of focus to instead gather his strength.

The next step came as he finally drew close enough to feel the small universe of whirling thoughts, impulses, and emotions that signified everything the door guard to the bar was. He felt sweat beading on his brow, his brain heating with the strain of psionic power.

The next step was less complex, but far more dangerous, as he condensed the wave of his mind into a small stream, flowing towards the guard, before finally tethering to it. He nearly staggered as his senses doubled. He carefully maintained the small barrier between his mind and the guard's, a tiny bubble wrapped around his sense of self and identity that prevented him from fully experiencing everything the guard was. Without a strong enough mind or mastery of the technique, connecting with someone while unshielded had a high chance of leading to a brain aneurysm as he lost his own sense of identity to the person he was connected to.

Still, despite the shield in place around his mind, the senses were filtered through. Which was exactly what he needed to perform the trick.

Caelum was now sweating profusely, but he pressed on. They were only a street away now, not much time before the bouncer would see him and this would become a more herculean task. He gently nudged the guard's attention away from his presence, slightly altering his senses just enough that his mind tricked him into not even registering Caelum as part of the environment. Blurring his form, masking the colors of his clothes and blending it with everyone else present.

When their group finally approached the bar, the bouncer looked first at the Crows, then Sorin. Caelum almost cheered as the bouncer's eyes didn't so much as flicker in his direction. The ravens perched on the Crows' shoulders spread their wings, flying upwards to land on top of the building as they continued to scan the crowd below. The bouncer's eyes followed them curiously, before once again settling on the group.

"Cover charge is eleven credits per person. For three people, that'll be thirty three credits." The bouncer said gruffly, which caused Sorin to look at him in confusion. Three? What about… When he saw the sweat dripping down Caelum's face, he finally realized what the wave of Caelum's mind over his had been.

He fought down his jealousy at Caelum's feat, instead doing his best not to draw attention to his friend. He wouldn't ruin the illusion, even if he swore to himself that he'd be the one to do it next.

"Afraid we're not here for pleasure." Twelve said lightly, raising up the temporary but still very official badge the Ambassador had given the Crows. "We need to speak to the owner of the bar."

At this the bouncer looked troubled, giving their group a more assessing look this time. He looked down each side of the street. "Alright, just put the badge away." He mumbled, stepping aside. "Don't want you to scare away any customers. Second floor, down the hall."

Twelve nodded, and once they'd entered the bar Caelum let out a gasp of air, panting as he finally let the link drop. He staggered against the wall as Sorin looked at him with concern, about to speak before the Crows wheeled around and beat him to it.

"That was an unnecessary risk. Not only to you, but to the person you just linked with." Seventeen said severely, his normally neutral expression in an express state of disapproval.

"Loathe as I am to agree with Mr. Grump, he's right." Twelve agreed, his smile for once not on his face. They stepped aside as a couple of patrons walked out, chattering amongst themselves. "If you had suffered a psyche break… the Union doesn't have enough specialized doctors for psionic care as is, let alone on an orbital station. And that's for someone with status as important as yours. I dread to think of the care that would be available for a bouncer of a club."

Caelum nodded, his gaze lowering to his feet and his face burning with shame. It had been pure ego that drove him to test his ability. He'd only wanted to see if he could.

Sorin chewed his bottom lip as he watched his friend being scolded, hesitating before speaking up. "Still, Caelum performed something years ahead of where his training should be." He defended, then flinched as Seventeen turned a withering glare on him.

More people walked out, and Twelve sighed. A strained smile came back to his expression. "Defending your fellow Sparrow is noble, Sorin. But you've made the point for us. He did something years beyond his training, without proper guidance, in a populous center. In the Union. The last thing we need is a psionic incident when tensions are high as is."

Caelum didn't dare to look up, guiltily shuffling his feet in place. He knew it had been stupid. Even the small sense of pride in his chest was now another source of shame.

"Still…" Twelve continued, and both of the Sparrows looked up at him. His smile was a bit easier now, and there was just the tiniest bit of pride evident in his features as well. "I felt the link that you established. It was well formed, and your shield was passable." When Sorin started smiling, about to reach out to his friend, Twelve interrupted him. "I didn't say good. I said passable."

"Don't encourage it." Seventeen snapped, looking at Twelve before training his gaze back on Caelum. "You are not to be commended in the slightest for this."

Caelum lowered his gaze once again, and Twelve sighed in sympathy. "I understand, Seventeen. But look at him. He knows the mistake he's made. Besides…" A couple of patrons entered behind them, looking at them curiously as they walked past, and Twelve leaned in close to whisper. "Is this really the place to levy punishment? We still need to get to Trent."

Seventeen pursed his lips, then nodded, his expression returning to neutral. "This discussion isn't over." He warned Caelum, who nodded before looking up.

They're not too mad. If they were they would have told you to stay here. Sorin tried to reassure his friend with a message, and Caelum smiled tiredly at him once the two Crows had turned around and begun walking up the stairs. Hyper-modern Union rock was playing throughout the bar, conversation flowing easily in the air. But that was all muffled once they reached the second floor, replaced with quiet classical music drifting over them from just beyond the door at the end of the hall, where two more guards were posted at. These guards had pistols in leg holsters, small caliber or low-power but definitely still lethal.

Caelum paused as he recognized the music playing as Imperial, hit with a small wave of homesickness. He knew the piece. It came from his homeworld.

The group walked as one down the hallway, and one of the guards stepped forward with a hand on his holster. "Stop." He ordered, inspecting the group over. "Bar's downstairs. You're not supposed to be up here."

Seventeen stepped forward, raising his own badge. "We have business with the owner of this bar. Sanctioned by the Union Ambassador on station." He said, his tone soft but commanding. The guard inspected the badge, before giving Seventeen a slow look up and down.

"You have a warrant to prove that? Badge isn't enough. Bossman is pretty important." He drawled, his eyes narrowing.

Seventeen shook his head. "No. But give him a name, and he'll let us in. Trent Bailin."

The guard hesitated, before nodding back towards the guard at the door, who turned and whispered something into his circlet. The Sparrows strained their ears, before they finally heard a soft "Let them in."

The two guards stepped aside, and the group walked forward. When they opened the door, it revealed a luxurious office space. An earthy brown carpet took the center piece, with three lounge chairs set aside in the corner that were each occupied by more guards. They also had small caliber/low-power pistols, though theirs were set on a table between them. They eyed the group, but were ignored as the focus of the room was instead placed on a man sitting at a large, ornate desk. There was a radio set to the side, the source of the classical Imperial music.

The man was older than the picture they had, but it was no doubt him. His dark ginger hair had streaks of white through it, with a trimmed beard adding a sense of age to his appearance. But what Caelum noticed were his eyes. Ocean blue, just like his picture. And with the same weight to them as Seventeen's.

He studied the group, his gaze tired but wise.

"Hello, Trent." Seventeen said, and the man sighed as he looked at the guards sitting in the room and posted outside.

"I go by Allen, now. Will you let them leave?" He asked quietly, and Seventeen nodded.

"As long as they don't know anything."

Allen waved his hand. "You boys… take the rest of the day off. I won't need you for this." He said, and the guards hesitated.

"But sir-"

"Go." Allen ordered sternly, and they finally complied. "And close the door behind you."

When it was finally just the five of them left in the office, Twelve tapped both Sorin and Caelum on the shoulders, gesturing to the now vacant lounge chairs. "Sit down." He said quietly, his smile soft. "Seventeen likes to try diplomacy first. It can take a while."

The duo nodded, obediently sitting down at the lounge chairs while Twelve walked over to the far wall and leaned against it. Seventeen gestured towards one of the chairs opposite of the desk.

"May I?" He asked, and Allen nodded.

For a time neither of them said anything. Seventeen looked around the office, at its clear Imperial influence in style. Caelum thought that perhaps it wasn't just himself who might be homesick.

Allen's eyes never left Seventeen's figure, not until he gestured towards a portrait on the far wall. An Imperial citizen tradition, even if he lived in the Union now. It depicted Allen, smiling as he stood behind a woman sitting in a chair, a baby sucking its thumb held in her arms. The baby had the same dark red hair Allen did, though his brown eyes were clearly the woman's.

"Is that your family?" He asked, and Allen nodded. His gaze softened as he looked at the portrait.

"My wife, Bianca, and my son. He turned four last month." He said quietly. "Bianca's brother is actually my head of security. It's how we met." He paused for a few moments. "Thank you for letting them leave. I've known quite a few of them for nearly a decade now. They're good men."

Seventeen nodded, crossing his hands in his lap. "Do you know why I'm here, Allen?"

Allen smacked his lips, shrugging. "Could be anything. I did quite a few things that might earn the Empire's ire, back when I worked as a smuggler." He snorts a laugh. "From a smuggler of the Empire to a minister of trade for the Union. Who could have guessed?"

Seventeen smiled. "You'd be surprised about how much color people have to their lives." He reasoned, and Allen's own smile turned bitter.

"I guess so. Though your life's color is predominantly red, I'm assuming." He muttered, and both of the Sparrows bristled slightly at the disrespect in his tone. Twelve waved them down from his position on the wall, shaking his head.

"I suppose you could look at it that way." Seventeen said, his tone once again neutral. "Perhaps an even darker red than your son's hair."

This time it was Allen's turn to bristle, his nostrils flaring. "Are you threatening my son?" He snarled, and Seventeen shook his head.

"No, Allen. Your family is safe, no matter the outcome of our conversation." He promised, and Allen stared at him a few moments longer. Until finally he sighed, leaning back in his chair. His expression was weary, and he drew a hand through his beard.

"Do you have a child?" He whispered, and Seventeen paused. He glanced at Twelve, who shrugged before miming covering his ears with his hands.

"I do. He was born about eighteen years ago, now." Kaliban admitted quietly. He gazed at the portrait for a while. "Though I often wonder if he even views me as a father. Crows, I'm not sure if you've heard, are not permitted to have children. Those that do, are never allowed to see them."

Allen nodded, also staring at the portrait. "I once smuggled someone's son out of the Empire. Saved him as a job for an old man, then for myself when I learned why. A death sentence. And his only crime was being born to the wrong family." He finally said, his tone so very quiet as his gaze settled on Kaliban. "Is that why you're here?"

The Sparrows shifted uncomfortably in their seats, and Kaliban nodded.

"It is." Seventeen said. "All three of the things that you smuggled out of the Empire."

"Things." Allen scoffed. "Is that how you live with yourself, after? By calling them things?"

Seventeen's expression remained neutral. "Where did you take them, Allen?"

Allen tapped his fingers against the desk, his expression defiant. "You'll kill me regardless if I tell you or not, won't you? Why should I?" He challenged, and Seventeen's face flickered imperceptibly.

"I would really prefer that you just tell me." He said almost sorrowfully. "We're going to get the information from you. But rather than us talking like this, the other method is… unpleasant."

Allen clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing. "You can torture me all you'd like." He spat, glaring at the two Crows. "I'm not telling you where the boy or his mother is."

"Well, you heard him!" Twelve said cheerfully, kicking off of the wall as he walked towards the desk. Seventeen looked towards Twelve, before hurriedly turning back to Allen.

"Allen. Just tell us where they are." He urged, but Allen remained defiant, and Twelve shook his head.

"We tried your way, Seventeen. Now we do this my way." He said, tapping the bands on his arm. Black nanites flowed over his form like liquid, until his armor was fully formed. His raven feather cape fluttered down his back, the lenses of his mask glowing in the soft light of the room. He raised a hand, claws forming at the tips of his fingers.

Seventeen looked at Allen in one last silent plea, before he sighed. With a tap on his own bands, his armor is formed in mere moments, his cape waving just a hairs breadth above the ground. He turned to look at the Sparrows.

"Both of you wait outside." He ordered, his voice ominous through his Crow mask. The Sparrows hurriedly stood, unsure what was about to unfold and equally as unsure if they'd be able to stomach it. But Twelve turned, his lenses aglow.

"Not you, Sorin. You will stay here and learn what it means to be a Crow." He said jovially, and Sorin swallowed, freezing in place. He slowly turned, looking hesitantly between Seventeen and Twelve. Seventeen turned as well, grabbing Twelve's arm.

"He's young, Calix." He hissed. "Too young for this."

Calix's head tilted to the side, so like the birds their organization was named after. He pried Kaliban's hand from his arm, while Allen glared at the both of them hatefully. "Seventeen." He said, his tone chillingly joyful. " I would ask you to address me by number when in an unsecured area. And I was his age when I first got a taste of what our duties entailed. If you wish to pamper your own apprentice and shield him from the reality of what we do, that is up to you. I will mentor my own apprentice as I see fit."

They stared at each other a few moments more, their masks expressionless, until Seventeen whirled around bitterly.

Caelum gave a worried look between Sorin and his mentor. "Seventeen-" He began, but was cut off by the Crow shaking his head darkly.

"Sorin. Do as your mentor commands." He said, and Sorin swallowed thickly. His mouth dry, he walked towards his mentor, dread growing with every step. "Caelum, you wait outside." Caelum hesitated, at least wanting to stay and offer his friend solidarity. "Now." Seventeen snapped, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

And so, Caelum grudgingly turned around, equally grateful for his mentor's mercy as he was sorrowful for what Sorin was about to witness. He opened the door to the office as Twelve turned up the volume of the radio, Imperial music drowning out all other noise as he shut the door behind him.

At least, he had thought it would. He pressed his hands over ears, but still couldn't block out the screams that came through the door shortly after.

-

Caelum didn't know when the screaming stopped. He was huddled against the door, as small as he could make himself with his hands pressed tight against his ears. It had gone on for nearly an hour.

He hurriedly stood up as the door opened behind him, and only now did he realize that the music was gone. As were all other sounds, other than quiet humming coming from the room.

When he turned around, he saw Sorin walking out. His expression was haunted, the corners of his eyes puffy and red. "Are you ok-"

Sorin shook his head, cutting him off before he could finish the question. "I'm going back to the hotel." He said, his voice barely a whisper. Caelum watched his friend trudge down the hall, and then the stairs. He turned back and froze when he saw Twelve standing in the doorway, staring after Sorin. His armor was gone, compressed back into the three bands around his right forearm. His clothes were pristine, not a drop of blood on them. But he saw red smudges along his face.

Caelum felt a chill when he realized Twelve had taken off his mask during the interrogation.

Twelve reached out to pat Caelum's shoulder, and paused when he flinched away. His smile was still there though, unfazed.

"He'll be okay." He said, his tone reassuring but the effect was anything but. "It'll take time, but he'll understand the necessity behind this lesson. A lesson you'll also need, sooner or later."

Caelum stepped aside, a pit in his stomach as Twelve walked past him while humming a tune.

When the Crow had wandered out of sight, he turned to look into the room.

And then wished he hadn't.

Kaliban was standing beside the desk, his own armor compressed into their bands. He was looking down at… what could have once been called a person. Caelum gagged, barely swallowing down the bile in his throat before he walked into the office.

He steeled his nerve, inspecting Allen's mangled corpse. His eyes were gone, gaping sockets in their place and slits cut into the corners of his mouth that had torn open from his screams. His nails were broken, but the blood streaks and deep scratch marks in the wooden armrests underneath them suggested he'd done that himself. There were other wounds on his body, exposing flaps of skin and flesh underneath, but he didn't have the stomach to inspect them with any level of detail.

It wasn't until he was right beside his mentor that he heard very faint wheezing coming from Allen, ice flooding through his veins as he realized that he was still alive.

Kaliban looked up when he finally seemed to notice Caelum beside him. They said nothing, though hot tears sprang to Caelum's eyes. "Your knife." Kaliban said quietly, extending a hand. Caelum solemnly reached for the knife in his boot, handing it over.

Kaliban's fingers wrapped around the hilt, and faster than Caelum could see it was buried into Allen's jugular. Allen wheezed one last time, then with almost a quiet sigh his life was gone. They simultaneously touched their temple, then their hearts, sending a silent prayer to the God Emperor. It was the best they could do for him now.

Kaliban closed Allen's eyelids, covering the empty sockets.

"Sir…" Caelum said quietly before choking off, unsure of what he wanted to say. There was so much grief squeezing his heart tight, both for the life taken and the innocence Sorin had just lost. He couldn't explain any of this, but Kaliban nodded in understanding anyway.

"I know." He said quietly. "But it is up to a Crow how they mentor their Sparrow. I can only offer my guidance, and show him the right way we do things."

He looked up, noticing Kaliban looking at the portrait on the far side of the wall. At his smile. At the woman's. And finally, at the son. Suddenly, a hot surge of bitterness swelled within Caelum.

"Is there a right way to do what we do?" He muttered darkly, and Kaliban paused.

"I don't know. But there is a way to lessen the guilt." He eventually said, wiping the blade of Caelum's knife clean before handing it back to him.

"Take it." He ordered, and Caelum hesitated. "Take it." Kaliban insisted, and Caelum did so grudgingly.

"How do we do things the right way, then?" He asked, and Kaliban put a hand on his shoulder.

"We make it painless. If we can't do that, we inflict only the pain necessary." He said gravely. "And no matter what, we do not take pleasure in the pain we inflict." Caelum nodded, and Kaliban squeezed his shoulder. "When their final moments come, make them bearable. And remember that everything we do, we do for the Empire. For its people. As long as it is done this way, the Emperor will forgive us our sins."

Caelum nodded again, staring down at his feet. Kaliban raised his hand hesitantly, before lowering it to his side. He looked over Caelum's shoulder, at the portrait. At the boy in the mother's lap. Then carefully sets his expression back to neutral, turning around and walking away after leaving one last message between them.

"Get back to the hotel when you can. Tomorrow, we fly to Norio. Our mission is to secure Elias Vicha."