Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Meta-Knights were, understandably, suspicious upon Susie’s arrival.

It’s not as if she didn’t deserve it. She’d taken their fearless leader; a warrior who challenged impossible odds head on for the sake of chivalry and a desire to protect one’s friends. He held off the innumerable waves of Haltmann Works Enterprises ™  security long enough to allow his crew’s escape. She stunned him with a well-aimed shot and took him to the production room. She picked him out of the wreckage of his mangled battleship, recognized the sheer amount of noble dedication within, and immediately set about mass producing such admirable traits.

Now she stood at the entry dock of that same battleship, looking for a job. Apparently it was normal for one’s multi-million-dollar spacecraft to go up in flames. When she asked for directions to the Halberd, the natives rolled their eyes and jeered it was the fourth, fifth, sixth time it had been demolished. Once by the oh-so-great leader himself. He wanted to test his strength, so they said, and for a brief moment Susie wondered if that’s why the Mecha Knight prototype was so violent. It would explain the collateral damage.

The Halberd was truly a marvel of engineering. Nothing compared to the planetoid factory of Haltmann Works Enterprises ™ , but as she craned her head and squinted her eyes against the obnoxiously bright Popstar sun (Mr. Shine, that was its name, right?) she took note of the meticulously polished sidings, the compact yet efficient boarding dock, and- was that platinum?! She should’ve made him apart of the design team, not used him for the production line. The company was always in need for more bright and brilliant minds-

“A-hem. Miss Susie, why are you here?”

Susie blinked as she was jostled from her mechanical musings. Ah, right. Employment.

The figure in front of her stood with their arms crossed, their voice irritated, and a near imperceptible hint of fear. One of the Meta-Knights. A massive ball and chain sat next to their feet, purposefully close enough to be grabbed and used within a moment’s notice. Their armor was a deep purple hue. Three prongs stuck out the helmet and an electrical visor sat where the faceguard should be. Fascinating. Infrared, perhaps? Or maybe this one was visually impaired? The design was similar to glasses worn by drones whose eyes had been damaged in the assembly line, though it was clunkier than what she was used to.

“Well, sir,” (Were they a sir? No matter.) She put on her best secretary voice. A practiced tone of jovial energy and a go-getter attitude. “I was hoping to see if I could make myself of use here!” Her head tilted to the right and her hands clasped together in the perfect pose of maiden-like politeness. The angle of the sun would surely make her bright advertiser-worthy eyes sparkle, and the light sea breeze of Orange Ocean blew her bubblegum-pink hair in stylish angle to her left. Deeps breath now. It’s showtime.

Tilt head to the left, keeping eye contact with the customer.

“Battleship Halberd is, without a doubt, the most technically advanced structure in all of Planet Popstar!”

Gesture widely to the ship, gazing up at it to display interest in the subject at hand.

”With my decades of experience managing and designing complex machinery, my talents would be best utilized in furthering the advancement of this marvelous machine!”

Hold one finger up and wink, showing an air of a shared secret.

“With enough time and dedication, my skill set would allow for the Halberd’s status of ‘best space-faring vessel on Popstar’ to rise to that of the best in the Galaxy!”

Clasp hands again, eyes shut in a friendly manner. Go in for the kill.

“I hope to propose an alliance of our goals and wish to help your organization thrive with the help of our own!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

The silence was palpable.

Susie warily cracked one eye. Ah. The knight in front of her was… not amused as far as she could tell. Damnit, the electronic vizor made it difficult to read their expression! She took a breath, about to launch into another business proposal, when her customer(?) shifted.

“Let me get this straight,” they started, testing each word with an unseen tongue. “You want to work for us?”

“That is c-“

The knight cut her off. “You want to work for our Sir? Our Sir , who you kidnapped, took to your, to your mad science facility and did, unspeakable THINGS to ?” Their voice rose, trembling, as they took a step forward. “After everything you’ve done to him, you think you can just- just waltz up to our ship and demand us to take you in?”

 “Popstar is in ruins because of you!” They pointed at Susie, purple armor clinking as they shook from a barely controlled white hot rage. “Entire cities were destroyed! Orange Ocean is polluted beyond belief! Castle Dedede is in shambles! Ten percent of the population was mechanized! Kirby didn’t know it was him and he poisoned him and we had to rip out the-“ The knight cut themselves off in an aborted scream of frustration. “What in the stars is wrong with you?”

Well! That wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for, but it was the one she was expecting. Best to attempt damage control.

“I see that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, as they say,” Susie started, keeping the same saccharine tone of agreeableness. “Well, I can assure you that the past is in the past and you have my one hundred percent assurance that nothing of that sort will ever happen again, especially with my assistance as your organization’s sec-“

“Would you be quiet?” the knight snapped. “The answer is no, why would the answer ever not be no? You’d backstab us and make away with our ship the first moment you could get. We heard from Kirby, how you betrayed your precious company for your own gain.”

Susie flinched. “That was an exception, the situation was very chaotic and-“

“The situation was chaotic ? You nearly caused the destruction of Planet Popstar from what I heard.”

She bristled. “I did no such thing. In fact, it was me who supplied Kirby with the necessary means to combat the comet.”

“And we provided the Halberd after your company destroyed it and mechanized our leader!”

The air had a tension so dense it could be cut with a blade. Neither moved, doing their best to kill the other with glares alone.

“Listen. I don’t care if Kirby likes you,” they turned to the side and reached down, “because none of us Meta-Knights will ever let you within one meter of our Sir again.”

They grabbed the ball and chain and heaved it above their shoulder, wielding it like a mace.

“Now leave,” they snarled. “And never set foot near the Halberd again.”

Susie balked. The knight stood their ground. Susie straightened her spine, looking head on. The knight jingled the mace, winding back to throw the spiked ball in her direction. Susie recoiled, backing away slightly from the potential threat. She weighed her options, paused for a moment, then turned, running, running, running as fast as she could. A heavy thud sounded from behind her. She didn’t look back.

“And stay out!”

-

It was sunset by the time she reached her mech.

She parked it at the bottom of a secluded hillside, a fair walk away from the nearest town and next to a large forest. Whispy Woods, the natives called it. Susie vaguely remembered one of the technicians pratting about something called “Clanky Woods”, and promptly decided it would be a terrible idea to venture inside the tree line. Her spot was sheltered at least, and she could scrounge for apples on the outer edges of the woods. There was even a stream nearby, though the thought of drinking, ugh, native , untreated stream water made her gag.

She sighed and looked up at the mech. Corkscrew in shape, it allowed the user both flight and enhanced combat abilities. Hers was fairly plain, decorated with only pink and white paint alongside the Haltmann Works Company ™  logo. It made sense; her, being the president’s secretary, had a more average looking mech compared to the president's. His was encrusted with jewels and gold, an exorbitant and frankly obnoxious display of equally obnoxious wealth. He took over planet after planet, absorbing each and every one into the Haltmann Works Company ™ superconglomerate. The man was obsessed with both money and progress to seemingly no end. The mere thought of him made Susie’s expression sour.

She pushed that thought away and climbed on top of the machine. Pressing a button on her headset unlocked the mech, opening the hatch covering the cockpit with a small shwip . Inside was a seat, and below the seat was a small compartment. Susie reached in and unlocked the compartment, protruding a plastic water bottle stored inside. She cracked the bottle open and drank half the contents within a minute, all the while doing calculations in her mind.

I had 5 bottles when I first left. I bought 10 more when I reached the first town, but now they’re not accepting Haltmann dollars anymore. If I only have one a day, then that means-

A large purple bird flew out of the trees directly over Susie’s head, its loud Hoot! shocking her out of her thoughts. She choked, sputtering water out of her mouth. Susie coughed for a few minutes before finally composing herself. She grit her teeth and squeezed the plastic. The remaining liquid gushed onto the dirt, furthering her anger.

“DAMNIT!” she yelled, throwing the crumpled plastic past the tree line.

“Those stupid natives and this stupid planet! They think they can just reject me? I’m the most qualified person for space travel on this hunk of organic matter! They’re still stuck in the rocket age when we were already using antimatter engines! It’s like they want to stay inferior!” She put her head in her hands and screamed. This was a disaster. A star forsaken disaster.

“I don’t have enough supplies either,” she mumbled to herself. “I have, what, 5 days of water left? My money isn’t worth anything, and the only edible things in this place are stupid apples !” Upon saying the word “apple”, Susie grabbed one from the storage compartment, clenched it in her hand, and lobbed it away with all her might.

She glowered and leaned over the mech’s front console to examine the fuel gage. 10% left. Great. Just peachy. She was stuck here, and her last-ditch effort of begging the person she turned into a cyborg for a job blew up in her face. Or rather, a spiked ball was thrown at her face. Not to mention how hot this planet was. She knew this part of Planet Popstar was tropical, but it was one thing to see a weather forecast from the comfort of her air-conditioned desk and another to experience cloying humidity frizzing her hair and clinging to her skin. It was a sensory nightmare.

Susie pulled herself into a ball on top of her mech and sniffled, too caught up in her pent-up feelings to notice night fall. The chirp of cicadas and buzz of mosquitos filled the air, equally grating and unnerving. Some creature snapped a twig. The warped shadows of Whispy Woods stretched ever further, twisting and turning and trapping anything that made sense. And it was still muggy, even after the sun finished marching across the horizon. She couldn't even use her machine’s air conditioning with such little fuel left.

She hated heat. It reminded her of those years stuck in another dimension, surrounded by fire and lava and barely surviving by the skin of her teeth. Of the terrifying bird-like things that would swoop down and clip her hair as they tried to bite her. Of the loneliness, of the fear, of the overwhelming homesickness of just wanting to go home . Tears pricked at the edges of her vision.

It was stupid. It was so, star maddeningly stupid that all of this happened. Of course he didn’t recognize her when she got back home. Of course he cared more about money than her. Of course she had to become her own father’s secretary. Of course they had to find a planet with some pink black hole who sent everything they threw right back at them, and of course her dad was dead and he died and she had to watch as that damn machine erased his soul and that stupid pink ball wound up saving her life and she was stuck on a primitive planet with nowhere to go and the only person with the technology she needed to leave hated her and and and-

Susie wheezed, trying and failing to stop herself from hyperventilating as warm tears dripped down her cheeks and ugly noises bubbled from her throat. Her eyes went wide as she heard herself. An old, old memory, of watching some poor soul whimper and then be snatched by a shrieking sphere doomer flashed before her. She slammed her hands on her face, physically forcing the noises down. It was dark. She couldn't see them. They could be out there. She could be found. She’d never get back home if they got her.

In her panic-addled mind, Susie remembered the mech’s hatch. She jumped into the seat and slammed the button on her headset. A protective shell snapped over the cockpit, locking her inside. Her breathing slowed slightly. The tears didn’t stop, but at least she’d be safe here. They wouldn’t get her now. She hoped. She hoped they wouldn’t be able to hear her.

She took a shuddering breath and curled up in the cockpit. It was uncomfortable; the seat twinged her back and the console dug into her sides. Susie did her best to make herself secure, relegated to the fact she’d yet again cry herself to sleep.

It was ok. She knew how to do it quietly. She had years of practice.

Chapter Text

“…Three, two, one… and we’re done!”

Sir Meta Knight exhaled as Sword Knight finished the countdown, lowering his wing from its outstretched position above his head. Today consisted of wing exercises; physical therapy to repair the damage done by sharp metal and invasive wires. It wasn’t instantaneous, but progress was progress. A week prior he could barely flex the upper joints of his wing. Tendons at the limb’s base had been severely bruised. Bolts were shoddily screwed into bone to support superfluous rockets. The batlike paper-thin membrane was torn, and developing scar tissue littered his sides in screw-shaped pockmarks. But he was healing- healing faster than average due to his species’ naturally quick recovery rate.

While he couldn’t fly due to the holes in his wings, he could, at the very least, work towards rebuilding muscle. Each member of the Halberd volunteered to help their Sir get back on his feet, but Sword Knight was the only one whose schedule was free enough. Their loyalty was a precious treasure Meta Knight held close to his chest. Not only had his crew banded together to repair the Halberd after their failed assault, but they were by his side immediately after Kirby freed him from the clutches of Haltmann Works. His memories of the time were vague. Strange drugs and constant, near maddening shocks were applied to his body, forcing him to dance as if he were but a puppet on strings. In the haze of blurred shapes and confusing imagery, the only thing he recalled with absolute clarity was a sharp, bubblegum-pink pain. Yet the sight of Sailor Dee’s blubbering face as he regained consciousness was all the affirmation he needed to know he was safe. They truly were the best crew he could’ve ever hoped for.

“Sir? Is something the matter? You’re smiling,” Sword said softly. “I know you can handle pain better than most, but I still have to ask.”

Meta Knight blinked. Ah, right, he wasn’t wearing his mask, was he? It’s incredible how near-death experiences make one care less about their appearance. “I was simply reminiscing,” he replied, upper lip teasing the hint of a smile. “I thank you for your continued assistance in my recovery. My progress wouldn’t be nearly as fast without it.”

Sword let out a good-natured chuckle. “You took us in when we needed it, it’s only fair we’d return the favor. Now,” his tone took an ever-so firmer edge. “Your pain level?”

“Hmm… a three out of ten.”

“Better than yesterday!” Sword Knight turned around, setting down a clipboard containing the list of therapeutic exercises. He walked to the chamber’s exit, intending to give Meta Knight privacy as he donned his armor. “We should be done for today. Same time tomorrow, Sir?”

Meta Knight nodded. “Correct. Be seeing you, Sword.”

Sword Knight’s jade-colored armor shone in the hallway’s fluorescent lighting. He gave a two-fingered salute before exiting the room. The heavy iron door closed with a distinctive clunk. Now that he was alone, Meta Knight began to dress himself, pulling on his pauldrons and sliding the signature mask into place. It resting upon his face was familiar; the signal of his strength and stability, affirming his status of “Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy”. His wings jostled as he cinched the mask’s strap, provoking a hiss of pain. The title, admittedly, felt undeserving at the current moment. The Greatest Warrior shouldn’t be grounded. The wait to return to normalcy was agonizing. No matter. He’d be fully healed within a few months, though the wings would take considerably longer. Torn flight membrane was notoriously difficult to recover from.

“They’re worried about you.”

Galaxia’s echo was less a comment and more a declaration of fact. The sacred sword's words twinkled through his mind, tinny and sonorous, as if one’s voice were replaced with a chorus of bells.

“I am aware of that,” Meta Knight mumbled, fastening metallic purple boots to his feet. “It’s understandable, considering what we went through.” Galaxia had been taken from him during the mechanization process. He wasn’t sure how Axe Knight found the sacred sword, but Galaxia themselves refused to speak on the matter. They stayed silent, unnaturally so, in the first few days after their rescue. Whatever fate befell them was not a kind one.

“It would be wise to inform the rest of your improved condition. With their concerns abated, they would carry out their duties more efficiently.”

Meta Knight hummed an acknowledgement. While most of the weapon specialists (barring Sword Knight) were ordered to perform reconnaissance missions across Dreamland, Captain Vul and Sailor Dee should be manning the bridge. Sailor was visibly shaken by Meta Knight’s condition when they found him. Vul did his best to appear aloft, but he never was the best at hiding his emotions, instead choosing to turn his back, shielding his face with his cap as he wept tears of rage. The more he thought about it, the more reasonable Galaxia’s proposal sounded. Full recovery was a ways off, but seeing even a smidge of progress would put their deepest worries at ease.

He secured Galaxia’s scabbard and pushed the blast-proof door open. His wings were far too damaged to magically revert to a cape. “Alright, let us depart then.”

His footsteps echoed as Meta Knight clinked down the Halberd’s halls. Most of the floors were metal. Partially for practical reasons, mostly because the cost of installing hardwood, or, stars forbid, carpet in a ship with over a square kilometer of floorspace was nightmarishly expensive. He sighed. Given the ship’s penchant for exploding, it was best to keep maintenance as cheap as possible. Sailor’s defeated expression as he calculated the Halberd’s monthly budget was reason enough to exclude superfluous additions like flooring. Dedede’s royal treasury only provided so much for military defense.

Meta Knight’s eyes faded to an emerald green as let his thoughts wander. The walk to the bridge was long. It was an easier distance to cover these days, though approaching his second week of a forced training hiatus made him antsy. He flexed his fingers. Being the head of Dreamland’s residing battleship made him a busy man, and nothing relieved stress like going all out against a dangerous opponent, him and Galaxia in perfect synch to take down a powerful foe.

"Have you considered a hobby besides swordplay? A creative outlet helps with these types of emotions,” the sacred blade chimed in.

“Do you have to be so condescending?” Meta Knight muttered. He turned a corner. “I have hobbies. I visit the King, and Kirby is always willing to do something or other.”

If it were possible for a sword to groan, Galaxia did just that. “Those are not hobbies, my dear. You need something to do for yourself every now and then. I would suggest baking, but...,” they trailed off. “You did nearly burn down the castle.”

“I did no such thing.” Meta Knight’s tone indicated he very much did such a thing. He huffed and thought for a moment. “Reading is a fine pastime. Though one can only get so much out of consuming the stories of others’ exploits. Hmm. I suppose I enjoy design,” he mused. “The act of… planning. Creating the foundations of a project, measuring out each detail and recording it on a blueprint. It’s invigorating to take an idea and make it. Determining a goal and seeing it to its logical conclusion.” A prideful smile broke across his hidden face. “This ship is the culmination of that ‘hobby’, you know.”

Galaxia rang something resembling a hum. “Hm. That is better than nothing. I wish you good fortune speaking with your crew. They care for you deeply.”

They did. That, they certainly did.

-

By the time Galaxia’s presence faded from his mind, Meta Knight reached the imposing double-doors of the Halberd’s bridge. Nearly two meters tall and a quarter meter thick, they served as both an intimidating entryway and the last line of defense for anyone inside. Emblazoned on each was the battleship’s symbol: a silver stylized “M” with a spiked sword plunged through the center of the letter, deftly carved by Castle Dedede’s finest craftsmen. The design had undergone many revisions in the drawing room. He had Adeleine to thank for the finalized version. The artist gladly agreed to help when he promised a full tour of the battleship in return.

Steadying himself, he pushed the doors open. Sailor Dee and Captain Vul stood at the front of the room, next to the large, reinforced glass window overlooking the deck and main cannons. It was a brand-new day on Planet Popstar, promising clear weather and blue skies. The sun’s location indicated it was almost mid-morning. Rays of sunlight framed the two crewmates as they looked to the sound of their commander’s entrance.

“Hello Sir!”

“G’morning, Sir Meta Knight.”

Sailor Dee waved happily, ecstatic at his arrival. The captain was more subdued in his response, choosing instead to politely remove his hat as a sign of respect. The two of them were in charge of Halberd management; Sailor consulted finances, scheduling, and public relations; Captain Vul oversaw the technical duties of the ship, manning the controls and planning regular upkeep. The duo was a force to be reckoned with as the battleship’s administrative core. It was thanks to them the Halberd ran as smoothly as she did.

“Sailor,” he acknowledged, then turned to the other. “Captain. I see you two are doing well?”

Sailor Dee nodded with enthusiasm. “That we are, Sir! Captain Vul and I were just discussing the recovery missions we sent across Dreamland.” He gestured outside the bay window to the rest of Planet Popstar. “Lieutenants Axe Knight and Javelin Knight have already left with their divisions to assist those in Green Greens, and lieutenant Trident Knight’s group is set to depart alongside lieutenant Mace Knight’s tomorrow morning.”

The waddle dee motioned for Vul to speak. He conceded, acknowledging Sailor with a stiff nod before stepping forward to address their leader. “Lieutenants Sword Knight and Blade Knight will remain with us at the Halberd. Their men will assist in further repairs…,” he glanced at his figure, wincing. “… and the rebuilding of your strength.”

The remark wasn’t necessary, but it wasn’t undeserved either. After the cybernetic parts were removed, it took all of Meta Knight’s willpower to stand, let alone fight. As someone whose reputation relied heavily on combat capabilities, having his strength so severely hampered greatly affected the Halberd crew’s morale. The top general being out of commission would be enough to make any army doubtful of their ability.  Still, acknowledging how weak he was dealt a blow to his pride.

“Well, I can assure you my strength is returning,” Meta Knight replied, careful to keep his tone even. “Sword’s assistance is already having a noticeable impact on my physical capabilities. I estimate within a month I shall be fully recovered.” Well, his wings would take longer, but he could fight perfectly fine without flight. A small lie to alleviate their fears.

“Phew, that’s a relief.” Sailor wiped an imaginary sweat off his brow. “We were really worried about you Sir.”

“And I am only as well as I am thanks to your continued support.”

Sailor’s eyes lit up, pride twinkling his expression. Captain Vul, on the other hand, turned to the knight, new words on his beak.

“Oh, that reminds me, Sir Meta Knight. As I made my way to the bridge this morning, I passed by Mace Knight as they left their room. They looked pretty on edge and flinched when I walked by.” Vul tipped his head, “Could you find out what happened? They’re leaving tomorrow, and it wouldn’t be smart of us to send a warrior out in anything but tip-top shape.”

On edge? Hm, that wasn’t good. Mace Knight was usually a more put-together member of the crew, serving as a voice of reason whenever the others got too caught up in their own rowdiness. For something to bother them…

“I’ll see what I can do. Thank you for making me aware of the situation, Captain.”

“Think nothing of it, Sir. I’m sure Mace will be happy seeing you up on your feet,” Vul replied, breaking out in a jovial grin. “Now take care of yourself, y’hear? We don’t know if anyone from Haltmann’s botched business venture stuck around after Kirby gave them the one-two punch.”

Meta Knight laughed, eyes briefly tickled pink. “You have my word, Captain. Be seeing you two.”

“Goodbye Sir!” Sailor Dee waved.

The knight turned to leave the bridge, pausing for a moment to salute. It appeared they had everything under control, as per usual. They were truly dependable men. He stepped outside into the hallway and steadied himself. He had a knight to find.

-

Mace Knight was in the armory. Given their upcoming mission, the location was predictable.

The armory itself was massive and located in the lower half of the Halberd, just above the hangar. Had it been in flight, one would’ve been able to hear the hum of the central reactor a few floors above. Swords, axes, tridents, lances… weapons of every type and style lined the walls. They were neatly organized by the entryway and steadily became more and more cluttered as one pressed inward. Meta Knight was at his wits end at the mess, but he could only give so many orders for reorganization before they fell upon deaf ears. It was an uphill battle. Arming not only his lieutenants, but nearly every low-ranking soldier underneath them took a tremendous amount of time and resources. An army’s worth of weapons were stored here. It’s no wonder the room was so untidy.

Mace placed themselves at the armory’s on-site repair station, located near the center of the room. A single halogen lamp illuminated the workspace. A half empty bottle of polishing fluid rested upon the table besides them. They sat in silence, the only sound coming from the repetitive motions of oiled cloth on smoothed metal. Meta Knight slid in the shadows of overstuffed shelves. His yellow eyes glowed in the darkness as he observed the knight.

The ball and chain in their hands was spotless. It shone dimly in the soft light, Mace’s armor reflecting in its obscenely polished surface. From his vantage point Meta Knight could see their movements. Their hands were quick, almost frantic, and appeared to tremble slightly as they drew the cloth over the mace. Over each and every spike, the ball, the chain itself, then back again. Any rust previously dotting the weapon was scrubbed clean and then some. Its condition was immaculate.

Meta Knight narrowed his eyes. Vul’s assessment was correct. Mace Knight was on edge. Something clearly had happened, but what could’ve occurred in such a short timeframe? They should’ve been on patrol yesterday, and nothing abnormal was reported at the end of their shift. Was it an argument with another crewmember? Mace and Axe most commonly butted heads, but Axe Knight had already departed two days prior, and Mace’s current mood was a recent development.

He needed more information.

He coughed, alerting Mace to his presence. They jolted upwards and turned in his direction.

“O-oh, good morning Sir. What are you doing in the armory?”

“Simply checking in on my knights,” he said. “You and your subordinates will be departing to Raisin Ruins to assist in clearing the wreckage tomorrow, correct?”

“Uh, yeah- yes, we will be doing that,” they said, fidgeting with the interlocking chains of their weapon. “The desert fauna can be quite ferocious at times, so I’m making sure everything’s in good condition. The locals mentioned seeing some mechanized Cappies in the area, so…” Mace trailed off and gazed weakly at their leader. “We need to be prepared to assist them in any way we can.”

Ah, that could be why Mace Knight was so uneasy. They didn’t take Meta Knight’s defeat well; the treatment their Sir endured was something of a sore spot, even amongst the rest of the crew. Though… was it really that simple? Mace had been aware of the mission for a while, so why the sudden change in behavior? They were well aware that they would be providing aid for those affected by the invasion, mechanized or not. Or was there a different, unknown factor? Whatever prompted it likely happened the day prior, going by Vul’s account. Perhaps they did see something on patrol, but why wasn’t it mentioned in their report? Maybe there was another mechanized-

“Sir? Your eyes are doing that thing again. They’re uh, flashing green?”

Meta Knight blinked as he was pulled out of his musings. “Apologies. I was simply collecting my thoughts.”

“…”

“…”

Mace sighed. Their posture slumped and their voice was weary. “You don’t have to always be so vague, Sir. I’m doing fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just saw someone the other day.” They averted their gaze, instead continuing to polish their weapon. “She made some outrageous demands and left, nothing more, nothing less.”

She? And make outrageous demands? That didn’t make sense. The Halberd was on amicable terms with the rest of Dreamland at the current time. A few years prior he would’ve expected such sentiment (the side effects of an attempted coup d'etat), but he’d received no complaints in recent memory.

The only one he could think of who’d make “outrageous demands” was the King himself. He wasn’t demanding the entire kingdom’s food supply anymore, but Meta Knight couldn’t keep track of how many times he’d barged into his living quarters demanding an adventure. “Let off some steam Meta! Live a little and get out'a this o’le hunk’a junk!” he’d say. Really, as much as he enjoyed the occasional romp across Planet Popstar, he had a reputation to uphold. One that did not involve abandoning his post to chase after lost ship parts or steal a slice of shortcake.

The knight shook his head. As far as he was aware, the King was not going by “she”. Who did that leave? Adeleine was an agreeable young girl, if a bit passionate, and ChuChu generally stayed out of any business not related to her unrequited crush on Kirby. None of the waddle dees came to mind-

Oh.

Oh no.

“… Mace Knight,” he said, testing the words with his tongue. “Did you happen to meet Susanna Haltmann?”

Chapter Text

Kirby woke up to the mid-morning sun tickling his face. He scrunched his eyes shut, a vain attempt at telling Mr. Bright to go away! Let him have just a few more hours of sleep! Alas, the Sun did not listen, adamant in its goal to drag all but the heaviest of sleepers out of their nightly rest.

He begrudgingly pushed himself out of the plush quilt of his equally plush bed. Dedede gifted him the blanket several years ago. He called it an “olive branch” for some reason, insisting it was “a symbol to the end’of our rivalry Kirby. Now you’re officially registered as a true Dreamlandian citizen, King’s honor!” Kirby smiled at the memory. Dedede was funny like that. He went out of his way to make amends for allll the weird things he did in his younger years. Yeah stealing all the food from his kingdom was pretty stupid, but everyone had their off days. Sometimes your brain was bad and you did a bunch of dumb stuff because of it. If Kirby judged everyone when they were at their worst, none of his friends would’ve had the chance to become the people they were now. Except Bandana Dee. Kirby wasn’t sure if the dee had a bad bone in his body. He felt bad when stepping on a beetle for star’s sake!

Kirby yawned and plopped onto the carpet next to his bed. The soft surface tickled the bottom of his feet.

Today was a sleepy morning. A glance at the bright blue wall clock (another present from Dedede) confirmed it was around 10 in the morning. An hour or so later than his usual wake-up time. Unsurprising, considering how late he was out. Rick was a mean slap jack player and took no prisoners when it came to card games. And Kirby really thought he was gonna win that time! He had a lucky new deck of cards and everything! Whatever. It was time for breakfast anyways.

Kirby rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he wandered to the small dining table at the rear of his circular home. Atop of it was a basket, filled with an assortment of local Dreamland fruits and berries. Every few days he’d venture across the countryside and gather what he’d need for the upcoming week. While its contents differed from season to season, it was always stocked with enough food for a tasty start of the day. He reached inside. He didn’t want to have eat an entire watermelon right now, so it was apple time.

His stubby paw grabbed air.

Huh?

There were no more apples.

Seriously?

Oh, riiiight. He ate the rest of them last night while visiting Rick, didn’t he? Kirby puffed his cheeks. How annoying! Apples were the best breakfast food! Sure, eggs and pancakes were ok, but apples? The only fruit better than those were strawberries, but they were only in season for a few months of the year. Apples, on the other hand, were in season for twice the time, lasted waaaay longer after they were picked, and didn’t need any cooking to be extremely delicious. He could wake up, eat two or three, and be ready to start another fun day on Popstar. Plus, he could always count on Whispy giving a little extra. There were some perks to repeatedly saving the galaxy!

Speaking of Whispy, the tree mentioned he had difficulty removing all the scrap metal littering his forest. Prehensile roots could only lift so much, and a great deal of Whispy Woods was cluttered, making it difficult for the animal friends to go about their business. Rick lamented as much during their outing last night. Kirby should probably help with that. He didn’t like the taste of metal, but he might be able to inhale it and drop it off somewhere. Meta Knight constantly bemoaned the lack materials to repair his ship, so maybe he’d want scrap steel? At least Kirby thought it was steel. It kinda looked like it but the color was a bit off. Haltmann’s tech was so confusing.

Breakfast would have to wait. He tidied up the bed and set out, making sure to close the door as he left. The last time he forgot he spent 20 minutes dusting all the dirt that blew its way inside. Lacking anything to give himself the Clean ability, he instead had to clear it by hand. It was an awful experience he hoped to never repeat again. Kirby always kept a spare broom on hand after the incident.

He stepped outside and broke into a great big smile. Today was gonna be a great day!

-

A warm summer breeze blew as Kirby padded his way to Whispy Woods. The dirt path leading to the forest was littered with screws and the occasional metal sheet. They made it difficult to walk without accidentally stepping on a stray bolt and being forced to hobble for the next five minutes. The foliage along the road, though, was recovering. Haltmann’s rapid industrialization polluted the skies for nearly three months, acidic rains and residual smog choking the local flora and fauna. Two weeks prior the path looked dull, sickly, and decayed. Many plants and animals didn’t make it. Thankfully, nature rebounded as it usually did, and the structures leftover from the invasion were steadily overrun by grasses, shrubs, and flowers.

Kirby continued towards the forest, eager to both help a friend and help himself to breakfast. But… he really was hungry... It was getting close to noon, and he still hadn’t eaten! He stopped in his tracks, tapping a paw to his chin in thought. If he kept at this pace, it’d take forever to reach Whispy. And he really didn’t want to run all the way there on an empty stomach. Hmm… There was that other route he could take…

Kirby nodded to himself, set in his decision. It was time for a shortcut.

There was a large hill halfway between his house and Whispy Woods. It blocked the way to the forest, forcing the trail to wind around the structure rather than crossing straight above it. Its steep nature made it far too much of a hassle to climb normally. However, if one did choose to brave the hill, going straight over would reduce one’s travel time by a third. Luckily for him, Kirby didn’t have to scramble up on-foot.

Kirby composed himself and sucked up a small amount of air. His body inflated like a balloon. Then, significantly lighter, he flapped his short arms, slowly rising into the sky and across the obstacle. Yeah, this was waaay quicker than walking. He’d do it all the time if the process didn’t make it hard to breathe.

Speaking of breathing, Kirby quickly dropped on the top of the hill, heaving and taking deep breaths after holding it in for so long. That was way harder than it should be. Still, he was almost there. The wood’s entrance should be at the bottom if he remembered correctly. He surveyed the area below from his vantage point.

Huh? What was that?

Kirby squinted. There was something shiny next to the tree line. It looked like an upside-down pine tree, except made of metal and with a weird ball on top. The sides were painted pink and white, and he swore he saw something like it before. The view was pretty bad, but if he narrowed his eyes just right…

Woah!

That was Susie’s ship!

He smiled, relief warming his face. She was safe. Thank goodness. He was really worried when she stayed back in Haltmann’s office, especially after the planet-sized spaceship was hijacked by Star Dream. Based on what he saw, Susie escaped shortly after with her machine. He never saw it fly or anything, but it must’ve done something to allow her escape. But why was she here? Next to Whispy’s of all places? There was a town within walking distance, so why didn’t she go there? Then again, Susie didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d want to stay on Popstar anyway. Could she be… stranded?

Wait, did that mean Susie couldn’t go home? Kirby hadn’t considered it, but with Haltmann Works out of the picture there weren’t many ways off the planet. The only methods he could think of were his warpstar and Meta Knight’s battleship. The warpstar was out of the question. It took way too much energy to travel from one planet to another, and most couldn’t survive the vacuum of space like Kirby could. Meta Knight's ship was also unlikely given. Well. Everything. He supposed the Lor Starcutter could also work, but Magolor said he was building a theme park for some pyramid scheme and wouldn’t be visiting for several months.

So Susie survived, was stuck on Popstar, and camped next to Whispy Woods. What a strange series of events.

Kirby slid down the hill next to the construct. If she truly was stranded, she needed all the help she could get. Dreamland wasn’t too dangerous, but some forest beasts could easily catch one off-guard, especially if they weren’t used to the environment. Grizzos were known for charging at anyone foolish enough to wander into their territory. Plus, nobody deserved to sleep in the cold.

The mech’s damage was more obvious up close. Scorchmarks covered the backside, and small dents littered the entirety of the hull. Caked mud coated its bottom half alongside various stains obtained by Popstar’s natural greenery. It was a far cry from the pristine thing he did battle with. At the height of its power, Susie deftly piloted the machine to stop Kirby in his attempts of freeing Popstar from the grasp of Haltmann Works. Now, though, he could scarcely believe it put up as much of a fight as it did.

A golden shell rested on top of the pink and white vehicle. It covered where the cockpit would usually be, shining in the mid-day sun. If it was closed, that meant Susie was either somewhere else and left it locked, or she was inside. She probably slept there the night before. Still, he had to know for sure if she was in there before doing anything stupid. The material of the hatch was sturdy looking, and Susie would definitely be mad if he tried prying it open for an impromptu afternoon visit. Kirby frowned. If that were the case, he’d need to scout for information. There was only one way to confirm if she was in the area.

Kirby squashed himself and leaped upwards, achieving surprising height for one whose form was completely spherical. He soared through the air, aimed at his target, then landed squarely on the covering face-first. The impact rattled his brain as he was overcome with nausea. Though his body was squishy, he wasn’t immune to the side effects of blunt force trauma. Star danced in his eyes and Kirby very much regretted his decision. He really should learn how to land on his feet one of these days.

Kirby shook his head, clearing his vision. He collected himself and looked at the hatch below him. The material was hard, foreign, and a translucent, umber yellow. Hairline cracks and scuff marks littered the surface. He peered inside. Through the plastic-like covering Kirby could see the familiar console, and, resting within, the curled-up body of a certain former secretary. Her form rose and fell, softly breathing as she slept. She appeared almost at peace.

He grinned in triumph at his correct assessment. He was right! He didn’t need to go looking for Susie all across Popstar because she was right there! That saved a lot of time; Whispy Woods was extremely easy to get lost in and she could’ve been in hot water if Kirby didn’t find her in time. He was soooo smart for checking the mech first!

As Kirby reveled in his own achievement, he failed to notice movement in the seat below. The figure inside stirred, blearily rubbing sleep away from her eyes. She blinked, quietly shook her head, looked up, and froze. It was then that Kirby happened to glance downward and notice her staring. He gave a great big smile and waved hello.

For a moment, nothing happened. Blue eyes stared at blue and birds chirped in the warm sun of a Popstar afternoon.

Susie screamed.

The cockpit slid open, throwing Kirby out of his previous position of laying top of it. He stumbled backwards onto the upper rim of the mech- his stubby hands flailing uselessly as he tried to stop himself from falling off the edge. There was little time to react as Susie’s gloved fist slammed directly into his side. The force of the blow launched him off the machine, sending Kirby careening through the air to the grassy undergrowth below. His face hit the ground with a small plop .

Kirby groaned, laying on grass and a small pile of crushed foliage. His head was spinning for the second time that morning and pedals coated the roof of his mouth. He pushed himself on his feet, spitting out flowers as he did so. Bleh! Those flowers were disgusting! The taste was earthy and sour and stuck to his tongue even as he coughed them up. They were nothing like roses; roses he could infuse with water to make a nice refreshing drink for Dreamland’s tropical summers. These things tasted like dried leaves and regret! What even were they?

“Don’t you dare move, y-you NATIVE!”

Kirby spun around, suddenly facing the barrel of Susie’s ray gun. It was a small thing, barely the size of a conventional pistol, and twitched in her hands. She stood from atop her mech, glaring down at the puffball. Her breath was high pitched and rapid, and her disheveled pink hair falling in front of her face. Her body shook in a cocktail of terrified rage. Her professionally ironed miniskirt was crumpled and her blown-wide pupils betrayed an animal-like anxiety. Kirby could’ve sworn he saw a drop of sweat trickle down her brow. The girl was an overstrung bow ready to snap, and Kirby was directly in her sight line.

He stopped and stood as still as he possibly could. It was unlikely Susie could actually hurt him. Unfortunately, Haltmann tech was almost always more dangerous than it looked. Kirby was as sturdy as they came, but it was best to air on the side of caution, especially given how stressed she was. A properly aimed shot could take out his eye, and a poorly aimed one might hurt Susie herself. His face shifted into a determined expression. He needed to help her, fast.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, steadying the gun with her other hand. “How did you find me?”

Susie continued, not allowing Kirby to respond to her questions. “You shouldn’t be here! W- what, have you come here to gloat? To look at the charming Secretary Susie and see how far she’s fallen? Haven’t you taken enough from me?!”

She glared at him and screamed.

“You ruined my life, you stupid pink ball! ”

The two stood in a stalemate. Neither stirred. The insects of Dreamland hummed in the background, ambivalent to the heated emotions of one and the concerned air of another. Susie breathed heavily, high pitched and bordering on hyperventilation. Kirby gazed up at her with a face dripping from worry.

Something about his expression struck her. Maybe it was the lack of pity. Maybe it was the warmth that tinged its edges. Or maybe, just maybe, she knew from the bottom of her heart that the being in front of her could never be anything but genuine.

Susie slowly lowered the weapon. Her voice lost its intensity, instead cracking to a resigned acceptance. “You can’t even understand me, can you?” she choked. “Here I am, talking to some native that doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

Kirby inwardly sighed. He got why she thought he couldn’t understand her, but that didn’t make it any less insulting. He just didn’t talk much. It was more trouble than it was worth, and he got along perfectly fine not speaking as much as everyone else. Still, Susie was in desperate need of kind words and an eager ear; something Kirby would be happy to provide.

The woman in question had perched herself on the edge of her machine, ray gun besides her and palms pressed against her face. She mumbled something, but Kirby couldn't discern the topic of her muffled words. Her form was defeated and her back was hunched. May as well make a move.

Kirby softly floated next to Susie. She side-eyed him as he sat next to her but didn’t make a move for the weapon. Whatever adrenaline left in her system faded, steadily replaced with a sensation of defeated apathy. She looked away and ignored the puffball to instead stare at the crushed flowerbed.

Silence stretched between them. Birdsong returned, filling the air with cheerful notes. Susie snorted, though Kirby had no clue why.

He leaned into the former secretary and poked her side. She turned to him, annoyed.

“What do you want, Pinky.”

Kirby looked at her, brows pushed up and lips twinged down in an expression of deep concern. He placed a paw on her hand.

“You OK?”

The reaction was immediate. Susie balked, blinking rapidly at Kirby’s sudden vocalization. Word after word started and died in her throat. Her frazzled mind clambered itself together as it desperately attempted to formulate an appropriate response. She looked confused, as if Kirby’s interest in her well-being went against every single known law in the universe. From what little he knew of her, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was her exact train of thought. Susie seemed like someone so set in her ways that anything proving the contrary completely knocked her off balance. It reminded him of Meta Knight in his earlier years.

Finally, after many, many moments, she refound her voice.

“You can talk?” she whispered.

He nodded and tilted back to gaze up at the Popstar sun, leaving Susie to her baffled confusion. It was warm today, the rays tickling his face and beckoning him for a nap. His eyes fluttered. Sometimes you only needed someone to sit next to you while you figured yourself out. Kirby was used to being that someone. He was pretty good at it.

Susie stared at him, processing what the hell just happened. “I,” she began. “I assumed you didn’t understand me.”

Kirby shrugged. “'M just quiet.”

The sky was beautiful. Puffs of white dotted a clear blue canvas, no longer tainted by smokestacks and toxic fumes. If there was one thing Kirby couldn’t get enough of, it was Dreamland’s warm summer days. He couldn’t get them anywhere else. The spring breezes, the bubbly clouds… Ripple Star came close, but nothing could beat Popstar’s balmy climate. Afternoons like these only reinforced his desire to always protect his home, no matter how grim the assault.

Susie followed Kirby’s gaze upwards. She studied the sky, tension easing from her body as she took in the clouds; one floating by only to be replaced with another, over and over and over again. She let herself fall backwards and rested on top of the machine next to Kirby. He smiled. Popstar wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t bad at all. One only needed to take time and appreciate it.

They took it easy, softly counting cotton-white clouds as they drifted by, lounging in the afternoon sun. The faint trickle of a nearby creek sounded some ways away. Critters and creatures chirped and squeaked as they weaved through the tree line. Susie’s breaths slowed to a steady, even pace. All traces of earlier panic had washed away. Kirby closed his eyes. It was… nice.

Wait.

He’d forgotten something, hadn’t he?

Yeah, he definitely did.

He turned to Susie, gently tapping her to pull her out of her daze. She started before tilting her head to meet his face. Her eyebrow raised in an unspoken question.

“D’you wanna help me pick apples?” Kirby said.

The puffball stared at her. It was a longshot, but friendships always began with offering a new, fresh start. Nothing would happen if neither of them reached out. She remained quiet, contemplating. The silence stretched a long while. Long enough Kirby was about to rescind the offer and apologize. But before he could do so, Susie stirred. She raised herself from her supine position and drew her lower body close. She blinked a glacial pace, took a deep, exasperated breath, and sighed.

“Sure,” she said; defeat laced her tone, her eyes looked nowhere.

“Sure. Why not.”