Under a heavy metal net and trying desperately not to become tangled in it while holding a injured Dustin, Hunter Bradley stared daggers at the mechanical general known as Motodrone and considered the question he’d been asked.

He didn’t want his thoughts to go there. To this day, Hunter had occasional nightmares about it. But his mind’s eye flashed back to less than a year ago – back to the moment that made Hunter’s heart beat faster. Helpless. Strapped into a metal chair and having his energy being forcibly removed from his body.

Being killed slowly and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

He forced himself to focus and pushed those memories back into the dark recesses of his mind. Hunter’s eyes were a stormy blue as he snarled at Motodrone and tightened his grip on Dustin.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Motodrone said, sounding too superior. “I see you missed me in your eyes.” He walked toward his prey. “You know, I’ll take back what I said about your friend. He did distract you enough for me to catch you in that net. I saw how you dodged the attempt through my drone earlier today.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Dustin said between painful breaths. “You’re not getting him because of me.” Dustin’s mind was racing. He came to help and he was going to, one way or another. But that would be so much easier if he could just stand…

“If you were trying to catch Blake, why’d you almost kill him?” Hunter asked hotly. While interested in the answer, the Thunder was really hoping to buy a few more seconds of time before Motodrone was to the net.

Motodrone did, in fact, halt to gloat. “What? I thought you were the master strategist. You haven’t figured it out yet?”

Hunter paled as his eyes widened almost impossibly huge. His grip on Dustin was so strong that it hurt.

Dustin sucked it up. “What’s the plan?” He whispered as he glanced up at Hunter. When he saw his friend’s face, he was even more worried than before. “You okay?”

“Just hang on.” Hunter’s knees bent down just enough that his one free hand could touch the grass. Then his powerful legs kicked off from the ground.

“Impossible!” Motodrone yelled after the crimson streak zipping away. “The net is too heavy!”

But Hunter did something that he was known for, even if it tended to happen in social situations far more than battle. He defied expectations.

For about three seconds.

Motodrone began to cackle as he saw the crimson streak falter just at the edge of his inhuman sight and crash straight down into a wooded area. “That’s got to hurt!”

Dustin couldn’t believe Hunter had just pulled this off!

He wasn’t getting the height on the bounces like normal, but he was going pretty fast. With his free hand, Hunter was trying desperately to shake the net. Dustin was trying to help with that. However, with the net being made out of such a heavy and pliable metal… well, even though he and Hunter had done a great job of not becoming heavily entangled, the thing plastered itself to every contour of their bodies. It wasn’t going anywhere.

But they were! They were going to be okay. Dustin breathed a sigh of relief as the thought hit him. His mind wandered on a new sensation as his hands kept trying to pull the net off of them.

He’d never been the passenger on a streak before. He was always the one doing the streaking. But he was a little surprised at how much fun he was having “being along for the ride”. It was like riding a roller coaster, except better because he wasn’t strapped into a big, heavy car. This was more intimate and free with no track to limit the possibilities.

Marah and Kapri hadn’t gotten this far in their training yet. They did that teleport thing, and while Dustin was sure that was cool and all, it just couldn’t be as neat and breathtaking as a really great ninja streak, right? Maybe Marah’d like a ride with him. Maybe he could impress her and make her giggle that amazingly cute giggle with some fast moves. Maybe he could find someplace really beautiful. Maybe it would even be romanti –

“Dustin!” Hunter yelled over the rushing wind. It was way too loud to be heard normally in mid-streak. Which meant something was wrong.

Just like that, they were falling. Dustin was sure Hunter would’ve followed it up with instructions. The kind everyone says at times like these but don’t need to be said. Common survival stuff. So, he tried his best to hang on.

He realized that Hunter was shifting him around as they fell. Because of the stupid net, Dustin knew there was no way to manage any kind of landing except a painful one. Under normal circumstances, they could’ve pulled some moves and landed pretty gracefully. But there was no way to maneuver or to break the fall. Which meant they were going to hit hard. So Hunter was putting himself between Dustin and the ground to take the worst of the fall.

Dustin closed his eyes and whispered, “Man, this is gonna hurt.”

He had failed. Plain and simple. Hunter had tried his best and it wasn’t enough.

He’d at least do good by Dustin. He’d managed to get his friend above him. That was something.

Hunter felt his back hit something – he thought it was the ground – but then the “ground” broke. They fell a little further, barely slowed because the net was adding so much to their momentum. The same thing happened again and again. They’d fallen into a forest and were crashing through a thick canopy of tree branches.

His next thought might’ve been about how their fall was going to hurt, but Hunter just couldn’t stay conscious that long.

This morning’s early class had gone very well, if Shane did say so himself. His small group of air students all seemed in excellent moods as they began to dissipate. He wasn’t doing badly in that department now, either.

Because every student had achieved the first stage for Palm of the Cyclone. After the usual warm ups and an impromptu sparring session, Shane had demonstrated a technique he hoped they would be able to grasp before the class ended.

He had been sure his students were expecting something large and impressive when the words “Palm of the Cyclone” left his mouth. Shane had watched the excitement play across their faces as he had held out one hand, palm up, and instructed them to pay attention. Kapri had even made one of her small, thrilled squeaks as they all gathered round. As a small vortex slowly formed in the center of his palm and began to gather speed, Shane had seen disappointment on their faces.

He had looked right at Kapri, ready for her to say something that reflected the frustration on her face. But she didn’t. She was learning some real restraint and it had impressed him.

“This is the foundation of learning how to use your element in a new way,” Shane had said. “First, there must be control. If you cannot master this stage, you will never fully embrace your inner ninja.”

His students must have taken his words to heart because each and every one had summoned a vortex. None lasted long or were well formed, but the tiny tornadoes had swirled on command in the palm of each student. Shane had ended class on a high note.

His thoughts having caught up to the present, Shane noticed that Kapri was hurrying more than usual this morning. She was already on her way.

“Where are you off to so quickly?” Shane asked as he came up behind her.

“Oh, Sensei Shane!” She said too loudly as she spun around. She smiled nervously. “Hi! Uh, do you need something?”

“I wanted to say that I was…” Was what? Was he really going to say this to her? Then he thought of the times he would’ve killed for a positive word from a teacher when he’d been working his butt off to do better. “I wanted to say that I was pleasantly surprised at the restraint you showed in class today.”

Her smile was still nervous but less exaggerated. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I almost blurted out three times,” Kapri admitted as she played with her hair.

“But you didn’t,” Shane said. “Good job.”

He should’ve expected the tiny jump for joy but he was surprised when she all but exploded with happiness. “Thank you, Sensei!” She reigned herself in. “Thank you, Sensei.” She bowed.

Shane returned it.

“Ah, I have to go, though!” She stammered as she stood back up. “You know, go meet Marah. We need to talk about C-c-ah-clogging! Yeah!”

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Clogging?”

“Uh-huh! We love it! We picked it up as a new hobby last year. And I think we were starting to get really good at it, too! But Uncle made us stop pretty quickly. He said clog dancing was too loud and that Marah and I made enough noise without the shoes.”

Shane was struck speechless as his mind conjured up some odd visuals.

Kapri seized her chance for a clean escape and hurried off down the path, but spun back around after about thirty steps. “Thanks again! I really enjoyed the first stage of Palming a Cyclone!” Then she was gone.

As his mind replaced “clog dancing on a spaceship” to “did she just say palming”, Shane watched her go. He’d been around her long enough to know that she usually said things wrong because she was flustered, not because she didn’t know the information. Still, as he turned around to go meet up with Dustin and Tori, he couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to this time.