"Setting an intercept course."

The voice emanating from the flight recorder was distorted and tinged with static every time energy weapons made the shields flare. But it was real enough, and it brought the situation home to her in a way no mere explanation could have. She shook her head once before she caught herself, wishing she could prevent the action already etched into the recorder's memory.

"Starboard thruster stress tolerance above maximum levels," the Zaal computer said calmly, its voice a calm counterpoint to the frantic intership chatter that echoed over the recorder.

"Acknowledged," his voice replied, and she could hear the concentration he was pouring into his pursuit of the renegade Barox ship.

"Port thruster stress tolerance above max--"

"Acknowledged!" He cut the computer off, and though the static was now less frequent she could hear in its place the whine of overstressed thrusters.

"Lissan to Zaal," Cestria's voice broke in. "My readings indicate a severe power loss to the Barox ship. It is doubtful that it retains any capacity to withstand the descent to the ocean floor."

She held her breath, though there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that told her what his reply must have been.

His voice confirmed her suspicion a moment later. "That's not good enough, Lissan. Another moment and it will be completely disabled."

*And so will you!* her mind cried. She desperately willed him to have listened to his teammate.

"Starboard thruster overload imminent," the Zaal computer interjected.

She flinched at the horrible metallic screech that proceeded that statement, escalating until it fell off abruptly in a tearing burst of static and the sound of his voice cursing softly. She could almost see his expression, feel his frustration like a ghost inhabiting this cockpit. A ghost that no one wanted her to see--a ghost of what had been.

"Delphinius!" Cestria's voice was sharp this time, and her eyes stung. Somehow, she knew it would do no good. No matter how much she yelled, she had never been able to change his mind either. "Abandon your pursuit!"

This time he did not answer, though the recorder proved beyond a doubt that his comm had been functioning perfectly well at that point. The next voice to overlap the fighter chatter was the computer's, sounding more urgent than before and with words that would send any sane pilot scrambling. "Proximity alert. Ventral approach exceeding recommended safety margin. Proximity--"

"Pull up!" Cestria shouted, and then there was nothing but the shriek of impact and the crushing sound of static as the shields overloaded and the comm failed abruptly. The static hissed loudly in the little cockpit for what seemed like an interminable time, until finally the recorder clicked off and she was left in the same unnerving silence that must have followed the crash.

She drew in a deep breath, only then realizing that she was trembling. She unclenched her fingers slowly, leaning her head against the back of the pilot's seat and trying not to see Zaal's crumpled hull again in her mind's eye.

"I suppose you will now have me demoted for insubordination."

His voice, calm and much closer than it had been over the flight recorder, startled her badly enough that she jumped. She turned, narrowing her eyes and wondering how he had managed to enter the cockpit without her noticing. "Why?" she demanded, her eyes flicking up and down just once to reassure herself that he was really there.

"Because I know you have been waiting for the opportunity," he answered, his dark grey gaze inscrutable.

She glared at him for deliberately misunderstanding. "Why did you *do* it?"

"I had to," he replied. His words were more maddeningly cryptic than his expression, and she turned away in disgust. Pressing her fingers together, she stared at the forward console and waited for him to go away.

"I have as much right as you to be here," he said mildly. "Zaal may like you better, but she is still my zord."

She frowned at the console, refusing to look at him. "She doesn't like me better."

"She does," he contradicted. "She has told me so."

"Then why did she tell you I was here?" she muttered, irritated that he had caught her listening to his flight recorder.

"She didn't." There was a brief hesitation, and the challenge was gone from his tone when he added more quietly, "Canthris did."

She frowned more fiercely, thinking dark thoughts about Aura's zord. "She would."

"After the number of times you and Aura have fought?" he suggested agreeably. "She certainly would."

When he said nothing more, she reached out to reset the flight recorder and climb to her feet. It was true that she had no real reason to be here, and she was still reeling from the panic that stupid recording had instilled in her. She couldn't deal with him right now.

When she turned to leave, though, he was right in front of her and he made no move to step aside. "You know why I did it," he said, searching her expression.

"Because you're stubborn and contrary and you think you're always right," she muttered, looking away. "Get out of my way before I change my mind about demoting you."

"Go ahead," he said. There was a resigned note in his voice this time. "It won't change anything."

She shot a look at him out of the corner of her eye. The same thing she heard in his voice was on his face, and it troubled her. At least it did until he caught her looking at him, and his look turned to one of irritation. "That ship was trying to take out the Command Center, Cetaci."

"Trying!" she shot back, provoked. "It never would have made it, and you know it!"

"That is easy to say now," he growled. "At the time I could not take that chance."

"You could have been killed! The chance wasn't worth your life!"

He stared at her for a moment, and she glared back at his solemn and unreadable expression. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and he said only, "It was to me."

*But it wasn't to me!* she cried, clamping her mouth shut to keep herself from uttering the words aloud. Instead she turned her head to the side, fighting to ignore his intensity and trying desperately to suppress the turmoil of her own emotions.

Any success she might have had was swept away the moment she felt his fingers brush her cheek. "Cetaci," he said softly, then stopped.

With a frustrated cry, she flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his shoulder. "I hate you," she choked, her fists clenching as he hugged her awkwardly in return.

"I know," he whispered. To her chagrin, he sounded almost... amused. He rested his head against hers and rubbed her back soothingly. "I hate you, too."