FAMILY VALUES

Lucianna sat with her head bowed, legs chained, her arms completely removed, as Kristiel and Des's ship carried them through space. Destination: Scrapstar, where she would certainly meet her demise at the hands of the Scrapster King, Rivra's father.

Her cell was no more than a five by five-foot square. Plain, white walls and floors stared back at her as she gazed off into the distance. She tried to pull on that bond, the one she shared with Milo, but she found nothing, as if the rope between them had been sliced clean. She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh through her nose. Her back ached, and she shifted uncomfortably, grumbling underneath her breath. "Could've at least given me a pillow or something to sit on…"

She wanted to laugh at her own stupid joke, but couldn't find it in her. It reminded her of when Waylon had taken their gems. Before, she had been the one to zip around the ship, cracking jokes and laughing with all her crew. To see Rivra's stern face crack with laughter had filled her with pride and joy. Since then, Lucianna found it hard to make herself laugh, let alone anyone else.

But Milo…something about him, from day one, had given her a sense of hope.

"I'll admit. I mistook him for Waylon at first. Call me blinded by rage. But once I realized, I thought about it…why I'd turned so violent. Of course, I would've beat up Waylon, too. But what really got me was…I think I fell in love with him, with Milo, right then and there." She shook her head. "I never thought it'd happen. I called Waylon and Salopheia liars. I'd never…looked at anyone in that way before. And then I walked into that grocery store, took one look at his stupid face, and bam! My stomach is in knots and my chest feels like it's going to burst! How stupid! How sappy!"

For the first time since she had stepped into that cell, a grin curled at her lips.

"I…love him. That's why I didn't want him to get hurt. Not now, not ever. I can't lose him like how I lost Salopheia and Chana."

A banging came from the single door, parallel to her.

"Stuff it, will ya? I'm your guard, not you're therapist."

Lucianna stuck her tongue out. "I wasn't talking to you anyway, dead brain! Why don't you go lick gunk off my cousin's toes?"

The guard huffed, but turned so they could shoot a sneer at her through the slat in the door. "We'll see how much you run that mouth when your powers are stripped from you. Then we'll take our time killing you nice and slow. Captain Kristiel even said I can keep a souvenir, if I like."

A shiver rippled up Lucianna's back. "Gross. You're lucky I have people I care about, otherwise I'd just detonate this whole ship with my power."

"Ha. Would you really, though? Or is that just some big talk to scare me? It ain't gonna work either way. So keep it down or I'll come in there and show you what part I'm gonna keep when you're dead."

Lucianna closed her eyes. She tried to pull on that bond again, but it was like trying to pull on a broken fishing line. She reclined back against the wall, leaning her head to one side. His face appeared in her mind. That dumb, cute smile he wore that made her want to tease him. To kiss him. To do many other things to him.

Now, she would probably never see him again.

And what would she say if she did? After losing control of her power and nearly killing him, there were no words she felt could placate the trauma she undoubtedly inflicted on him.

In the end, when she found the one, that glorious person all Chueleans refer to as their Celestial Partner, their mate for life—she couldn't protect him, much like how she failed to protect everyone from Waylon.

A small chuckle escaped her lips.

"Milo, darling…it'd be best if you forgot about me."

***

Lucianna and Krol were reunited in the loading bay of Kristiel's ship. His hands and feet were chained with that special alloy from Coalwatch that rendered Scrapster's impenetrable skin useless. He regarded Lucianna with concern, but she couldn't meet his gaze. She said nothing to him, neither a greeting nor a response to him asking if she was okay. Krol shifted uncomfortably and opened his mouth to say something else.

"Will ya shut yer yap?" Lucianna's guard snapped. "God, what happened to captives moping and despairing? Everyone has to have a monologue nowadays, as if anyone gives a crap!"

Krol pursed his lips, but he couldn't stop looking over to Lucianna. He could tell something had changed between the start of the fight and now. His gaze dropped to the floor. He wondered if it was because he had been so inept at fighting—unable to properly back up Lucianna—that she ultimately surrendered. Sure, her power had gotten away from her, but Lucianna had seemed so proud before, with her head held tall and her personality cheery. Now she kept her eyes to ground, completely unresponsive to anyone, inclusinf Kristiel, who slung snide remarks and insults at her cousin. Krol wanted to badly to smash Kristiel's smug face, but he knew better. She was much more dangerous than Des, with a cool confidence in her eyes that sent shivers rippling along his back. He decided it was best to keep quiet until he could talk to his father.

The landing ramp whirred open, clanging against the ground. The guards butted Lucianna and Krol with their rifles, and they unloaded from the ship.

Of course, the sight of his home world always filled Krol with a swirling sense of pride and comfort: the beautiful, if a little misshapen, architecture formed from scraps of metal, glass, stone, structured into various jagged shapes. To outsiders, the skyline of Scrapstar looked like the bottom half of a shark's jaw, with rows of triangular roofs scraping the air, each building pitched in opposing directions. The air was heavy with oil and grease and acrid smoke from a nearby engine fire. Scrapsters of many massive shapes and sizes, of many shades of green and gray, bustled along the tightly-packed streets of Cizaroth, the capital of Scrapstar. To outsiders, the city looked like a chaotic ant colony, with everyone bustling about in many different directions, walking, running, or riding mechanical mounts of animalistic design. Two young Scrapsters zipped past overhead on the mechanical spider mounts as the group navigated the streets leading to the palace.

To Krol, it was home. And, normally, he would be thrilled to return. But today wasn't normal.

His eyes flicked to Lucianna, quiet and unseeing. Despite all the stimuli, all the noise and commotion and smells and people…Lucianna didn't react. As if she had been presented with a graveyard completely devoid of life. It was then Krol knew he needed to do something. He wasn't Rivra, but perhaps he could speak with his father.

An icy pit formed in his stomach at the thought.

He only hoped the Scrapster King wouldn't kill Lucianna on sight.

***

Through the winding, cramped streets of Cizaroth they traipsed, and eventually they came to a massive palace constructed in that signature, thrown-together style that Scrapsters were known for. The metal and glass of this structure possessed a shining quality, and Krol could see some servants hard at work polishing the panels atop their mechanical bird mounts, which squawked as one servant smacked them on the head to ascend higher so they could reach a particularly grimy spot. These servants circled around several jagged metal and glass spires that made up the outer walls of the palace. As they entered through the gates, they entered into a large courtyard bustling with activity. Scraspter soldiers trained and sparred, wielding giant axes and rifles that they unloaded into mechanical dummies, which were repaired by scrawny, young Scrapster warriors who hoped to build strength by hoisting the heavy fragments back up so that their mechanic next to them could weld the pieces back on. Most of the soldiers paid Krol and Lucianna no mind, but some of the higher-ranking warriors, faces Krol knew from his very youth, glanced at them with uneasy looks. Krol huffed, trying not to hold any of their gazes.

They were herded through an enormous archway of metal and glass, which funneled into a long hallway. Fewer people idled about, but with the quarters being much tighter, Krol couldn't help but make eye-contact with members of the Scrapster royal family. It didn't take long for the whispers to start, those insidious murmurs that always bubbled up like conspiracies all around Krol. He did his best to drown them out, to focus on their destination: a giant steel door at the very end of the hall. On the other side awaited the one man to decide their fate. Krol's eyes flicked over to Lucianna, but she continued to stare at her feet, that listless expression ever present on her face. Even when the Scrapster nobles would point and gawk at her, saying, "That's her! The Pirate Queen", "It's true. She lost her arms," "I bet I could take her!," Lucianna responded to none of it. Krol would normally envy her for being able to steel herself like that, but he knew better. This wasn't the iron resolve of the terrifyingly powerful Pirate Queen everyone had come to know. What stood before them all, marching toward her certain death, was a shell of a woman who had relinquished herself to the cards dealt by the universe. And what a cruel dealer the universe was.

Two massive guards who looked to be carved from mountains of emerald waited for them at the iron door. Des and Kristiel approached them. "We've come with Krol, prince of the Scrapsters, and Lucianna, the Pirate Queen, wanted across all the universe for her crimes."

The guards gave them a solemn nod. They turned and, with a heavy grunt, pushed the gigantic doors inward, a high-pitched shriek renting the air as the doors dragged along the ground. Krol clenched and unclenched his sweaty hands. His heart pounded against his chest as Des and Kristiel led them single-file into his father's throne room.

Krol peered up into the vaulted ceilings of the chamber, as if searching for some sign of escape, though he knew better. While Scrapster work seemed messy and haphazard, the tangle of metal, glass, and wires that made up most of the structure surrounding them were all placed with intent. Each piece, no matter how odd-looking or chaotic, had its place, and no room in all of Scrapster-kind exemplified that more than the Throne Room. Piles of scrap and parts formed mountains that covered at least half the throne room, but Krol could easily spot the organization, why his father out each piece in their respective pile, which pieces went on the bottom and which ended up at the top of the piles. Nobles, workers, and slaves milled about these massive mountains of scrap, inspecting parts, chatting, and drinking. The sharp and fruity sting of wine and ale wafted to his nose, and Krol raised a brow. For slaves and workers to be allowed to drink and be merry in his father's hall, it certainly meant his father was in a good mood. Taking a deep breath, Krol hoped and prayed this would mean he could convince his father to spare Lucianna. He had to, for he owed Milo at least that much.

They drew closer to the other side of the room, and there, upon a patchwork throne of metal and glass, sat a hulking figure with dark green skin. His eyes, deeply recessed in their sockets, peered at the approaching party. If the giant man felt any emotion, he did not show it. The King of the Scrapsters rose from his throne, towering over everyone in the room, even his own son, Krol, who stood at least five feet shorter. The mighty king rolled his shoulders, the pauldrons of metal and glass clinking as he stomped toward them, each step bringing with it a deep rumble that sent several pieces of metal on the scrap heaps sliding down the slopes. The King's nostrils flared and steam escaped his mouth as he exhaled. Krol's stomach tightened. He knew his father would never lay a hand on him, even if Krol was considered a traitor by many. But Krol's gaze drifted over to Lucianna, who still kept her head bowed.

The Scrapster King stopped before them and reached out a single hand, clamping it down on his son's shoulder.

"It is…good to see you, my son." He let his hand fall, and turned his attention to Des and Kristiel, the latter of whom had elected to hang back a bit. Des, on the other hand, puffed out her chest and strode toward the King.

"Your majesty," she said, performing a deep bow to the King. "It is my pleasure to present you with your son and the infamous Pirate Queen, Lucianna."

The King nodded, his eyes roving over to Lucianna, who refused to look up from the ground. He grunted. "This is the woman that the Federation fears? The one who, many years ago, convinced my flesh and blood, the heir to my throne, my dearly beloved Rivra, to run unattended across the stars?" He stooped down and with one of his meaty fingers, tilted Lucianna's chin up so he could look her in the face. Krol swallowed. "Do not worry, Krol," the King said. "I do not plan on killing her right now." His eyes darted to his son. "She has a lot to answer for before I do that. But I am curious…what is she to you, that your heart races? That you stink of sweat? As if she has some deep importance to you."

Krol shook his head. "I do value her as a…friend? Acquaintance? Anyway, I owe someone a debt. And keeping her alive is the only way I can make good on that debt."

The King's lips curled down, only slightly, but it was the first sign of emotion he had shown since they arrived. (Typical Father, always holding his cards close to his chest. If Rivra were here, it'd be so much easier…)

"Such a fool you are. Letting yourself be indebted to others." He let Lucianna's face droop down, and she resumed looking down at her feet. "That is why you never made a good warrior, Krol. You could never steel yourself for what needed to be done, even if that meant killing those who fail you."

In a flash, the King's giant arms lashed out, and he wrapped his powerful hands around Des. Krol's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Des screeched and thrashed in the King's grip.

"Wh-what is the meaning of this?! I brought you your son! I brought you the Pirate Queen! I deserve to be rewarded!"

The King drew her close to his face, and as he did, Des reared her head back, and Krol knew she was preparing to spit toxic venom in his father's face. He opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could even leave his tongue, the King clenched his hands. There was a wet crunch, and instead of poison, a mist of blood sprayed from Des's mouth, splattering everyone within a ten-foot radius. Her head hung limp, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. The King tossed her lifeless body, blood streaking across the floor as she skidded to a stop twenty feet away. A guard appeared and hauled her body off.

He turned on Kristiel, who simply stood there with a bit of a grin on her face. "You smile, even though you just saw what happened to your friend?"

"Friend?" she said, chuckling. "She was merely a pawn to get to Lucianna. I do apologize, though. Your daughter was much tougher than any of us could've anticipated. Even without her eyes."

At those last few words, the King's expression seemed to soften, but only for a split second, and the next moment his face hardened like steel again. He turned from Kristiel, back toward his throne. "Hmph. I had always intended to execute Des, anyway. When I received word that she had threatened my son's life…that was unacceptable." He peered over his shoulder, his gaze piercing Krol. "I value my family above all else. And soon, I will have my family reunited. And the criminal responsible…" He looked over at Lucianna, who was now looking up at him, burning hatred in her eyes. The King raised a brow. "Oh? What's this?"

"Can it with that family bullshit. You sound just like my folks," she said. "The only thing important to you is controlling your children."

"It is clear to me that my children cannot handle responsibility. Thus, I will re-educate them. But you, Pirate Queen…" He grinned, revealing rows of yellowed teeth, two metal fangs where his canines would be. "You will be less than a corpse once I am through with you."