"Or be deleted?"
"Yeees." N Gin sighed out, a tad smug as he turned away from the projector rift then wobbled awkwardly as he stepped down from the small platform. He looked over at the man in question who stared at him, and who probably had been for some time. The attention made him suddenly self conscious and doubtful, "Hehe, what's wrong with it?"
His question was ignored, "I liked the little flourish at the end..."
"Oh, thanks I..." He began bashfully then trailed off, realizing the compliment was merely sarcasm. His ears reddened and his brow creased in worry.
Had he said something stupid? Judging by the look given to him, he had. He supposed he had been a bit overeager, and nervous. Having an audience also may have given him a small encouragement to perform and try to show his prowess. But ultimately, it was his chance to earn his superior's favour. It felt like this was his last chance to redeem himself in Cortex's eyes, and it placed such a heavy burden on his shoulders. This was his chance to right his name and get away from his last miserable encounter.
The man before him offered no reply, rather a small smirk in silence, which only irritated him further. He repeated in his head what he'd said and naturally could find better alternatives in hindsight. His confidence wavered. No, you know what? It was a good closer, he'd worked hard on it. N Gin stared ahead, his eyes transfixed on his new associate.
Nefarious Tropy. So little was known of him, other than he was responsible for the Time Twister's creation, and was apparently an old friend of Uka Uka. Nefarious was arrogant, aloof, and seemed to have little interest in intermingling with his colleagues unless forced. There was a clear sense of superiority and his attitude could most kindly be addressed as haughty. As far as N Gin could recall, this was the longest he'd resided in the man's company outside of obligatory gatherings. Tropy rarely paid him time of day. A handful of words had been exchanged between them, and most of those involved how he liked his tea and how he expected it hot before their conferences. It was irritating, but he always complied and felt a small surge of glee when it was approved.
Today, Nefarious was in an especially foul mood. The week prior, he'd had his first actual encounter with Crash, and had his ass handed to him. His ego was clearly bruised and for days he was no where to be seen at all, only the remnants of his time suit lingered behind. There were murmurs around the base that he was dead. When he spontaneously showed up he seemed frazzled, almost shaken, and isolated himself to this little hub, his own personal refuge. He'd sulked around and would project his failure on anyone near him. In short, he was unapproachable, and very unpleasant to be around. Today was the first day he'd come out of his isolation, and only because N Gin needed assistance using the complicated machine. He'd done little to hide his annoyance at the interruption.
All day he'd been impatient, curt, snide. None of these were exactly out of the norm, but the others had drawn their distance. N Gin could not afford to be so selective, however. There was more to it than simply needing to use the rift portal. Cortex's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and naturally decided N Gin should be the mediator. Though he genuinely did need assistance to antagonize the bandicoots, it was, at its core, a ploy to try and observe him and report any oddities to Cortex.
"I'm to assume we're through here?" Tropy walked past him with disinterest, pushing him away slightly as his attention drawn entirely to his precious machine. N Gin hadn't realized he was so openly staring and cast his gaze to the ground. Though unfamiliar, he was, for the most part, level with Cortex in terms of power, and therefore respect. It provoked a feeling of hurt, and jealousy. Nefarious had just waltzed in here and was handed everything he could ever desire. N Gin had stood beside Cortex for years and had gained no ground, no favour. If anything, it had slipped since his last failure. The fact he now had two men looming over his shoulder, quite simply, pissed him off.
Though he supposed, when he thought about it, he was being generous allowing them to use such a delicate mechanism. He reasoned it was fair that Nefarious have a say over what they do with it. He wondered if Tropy was aware that Cortex was messing with the machine without his knowledge, but he didn't feel that would be appropriate information to share. He knew they had worked together to make modifications, or at least so he'd heard. Surely, Tropy was aware of the cloning station below his time reactor.
He looked around him. Everything was so sterile, pristine and polished to perfection. Numerous clocks hung around them, many baring unfamiliar symbols and numerical placements. Above them was, what he assumed to be, an illusionary night sky. The stars twinkled lazily, unchanging, unmoving. Distant lilac and indigo nebulae lingered and illuminated the darkness. It was such a contrast to everything else, and he wondered what had been the inspiration for such a serene design.
There were so many hundreds of mechanisms, switches, various gears and pulleys all working timelessly and seamlessly with one another. Massive raised columns of white and silver glowed with strips of pale orange and yellow. They radiated a faint, pleasant warmth and made the air around them tingle and spark. He could feel the energy pulsating from them as they quietly hummed in their low, soothing drone. This area was small, something of a hub, that was enmeshed to the larger time reactor that many of them, to Nefarious' annoyance, had taken to calling the Warp Room.
In short, it was a masterpiece. He had no idea how it worked, but he wanted to, so badly did he want to. This was his first time actually standing in it. He wished briefly that he and Nefarious were on better terms as colleagues so he could satisfy the endless array of questions whirling within his head. Selfishly, he wondered what events could be changed with such a machine as a small pain ran through his head, the missile constantly reminding him of its presence. N Gin grew aware in his silent reflections that Tropy had forgotten him entirely, absorbed in his work.
He quietly stood by and watched, resting his hands in his pockets while he swayed slightly. N Gin was so easily forgotten when not in plain sight. Despite his tics of laughter or giggling, he was relatively quiet and there had been numerous times Doctor Cortex had forgotten him entirely. The same seemed true for Nefarious as time continued to pass and he still had no idea of his presence. He had to be unaware, he couldn't imagine the doctor tolerating his open stares otherwise.
N Gin tapped his fingers together, at times standing on his tip toes to try and see what exactly Nefarious was doing with the numerous rows of buttons and screens, but making sure to keep a safe distance. He worked so easily, every motion fluid and harmonious. Tropy was, essentially, the polar opposite of N Gin. He was graceful, composed, witty... N Gin was none of these things, and never would be. It made him feel another pang of jealousy as and he averted his gaze from the man to again take admiration for the structure around him.
It was truly incredible, this machine. It was like something he had read about in comic books, and though he always dreamed about it he never thought time travel would actually be a real possibility. He'd had no experience with it yet. Cortex had other duties for him, so he spent most of his time alone working on his mech suit. It was the same one he'd used before, and failed miserably. Looking at it carried a stab of regret, of humiliation. His defeat had been so degrading and was still a source of laughter. The vessel was a constant, glaring reminder of his shortcomings, but he swallowed these feelings and worked. His anger, his desperation for approval and retribution, fueled him, and as a result he felt he had created something marvelous. He could always make it better, hit harder, move faster- and he did. Surely, this time, he would have the upper hand.
He would never say it, but part of him envied the bandicoots. Their lives were rich and exciting, full of adventure and new challenges. What made him more envious is they had the talents to not only face these challenges, but excel at them. They had no handicap hindering their movement, their function. Even Crash, according to Cortex, was technically mentally retarded, yet he flourished and continuously proved a foil to their plans. This knowledge made defeat even more humiliating. Neither of them seemed to carry anxiety or fear and everything came to them with such great ease. This, among other things, made N Gin loathe the pair. Between these thoughts, and watching Nefarious work so gracefully, it made him feel dejected about himself.
Now he was just making himself sad. N Gin sighed heavily and turned to continue watching Tropy. He started with an odd, nervous sound when he realized that intimidating gaze was fixated on him, possibly for some time. He wondered how long he'd held Tropy's attention. The expression on his face was difficult to place, but there was clearly irritation.
"May I help you?" He raised his eyebrows, his tone irritated, as he turned to face N Gin, rubbing the wrist of his metal arm then shaking it awkwardly. He flexed his fingers then let the arm drop to his side. N Gin tilted his head slightly, curious, as he stared at it. His vacant stare and lingering silence did little for the doctor's disposition. Nefarious sighed and pushed away from the console.
"I have more important tasks at hand than babysitting you. You're dismissed. Leave. Shoo." Tropy approached him, staring down at him with that contemptuous expression he so loved to tote about. He sounded so entitled as he waved him off like one would a stray cat. The doctor was not a patient man and N Gin was aware of this, but he was so fixated on the subtle, awkward movements of the mechanical hand he could not offer the proper response. It captured his attention entirely as he scrutinized it, watching the fingers twitch ever slightly and the wrist catch, unable to fully complete its rotation as he shooed him. He heard Nefarious draw in a breath to speak and he cut him off.
"What's wrong with your hand?"
"...What?" Tropy said, a bit delayed and clearly caught off guard by his question.
"It's catching." N Gin pointed out.
"No it's not." He said defensively, as though he were insulted.
"Yes it is." He challenged, "Let me look at it."
He took Tropy's hand in his own. There was some resistance but N Gin stubbornly pulled it back and began to examine it, and to his surprise the man actually allowed it. He rotated the wrist experimentally and felt some resistance, something was off and not allowing the motion to complete itself. He found his eyes wondering along the prosthetic. The craftsmanship was exquisite, so elegant and wonderfully molded. So unlike anything he had ever made, or ever would make. The material, too, was unfamiliar, which excited him at the possibilities of its uses, its adaptability, its potential to be weaponized...
What suddenly enticed him the most were the sensory pads on the tips of his fingers. He'd heard of them, but never actually seen them in person. They were spongy, but firm, and so wonderfully textured. They were supposedly more sensitive to touch than biological nerves, but there was still much debate in the science world of their advantages. He'd never seen ones quite like this and reasoned Nefarious must have made them himself. With the precise, delicate work he was involved in, he assumed they would be something of a necessity.
N Gin gently prodded one experimentally and delighted as they dipped slightly then quickly rose back to greet him again. A small giggle left him.
"Stop that." He quickly withdrew his hand and wiped it on his lab coat, offended. Nefarious lowered his brows and looked at the smaller man in scowling confusion. Naturally, he felt his face redden at the attention, but if he didn't know better he would swear the doctor looked a tad embarrassed, as well. Surely, he was wrong.
From what he'd gathered of Nefarious, he was very stoic and unfeeling. He found it ironic that he and Doctor Cortex had such contempt for one another, considering they were so very alike. They were foul tempered, dramatic, and possessed an ego so large it left little room for others. However, Nefarious was more... reserved, and therefore, to a very slight margin, more tolerable. He was mature, composed. Elegant, handsome...
He suddenly felt uncomfortable as heat spread up his neck. Handsome? He darted his eyes to the side, embarrassed by himself. It was a fair assessment to make, just one that had startled him. He looked at Tropy again. N Gin was now trapped in his awkward cycle of thoughts as he noticed other oddities about the man, such as the fringe of white around his temples and the occasional ivory streak intermingling with his black hair. His expression, though sour, was strangly alluring and there was something hypnotic about the man in his entirety.
Tropy moved with grace as he sighed and took a seat by the large row of monitors, each displaying a different era of time and the various levels of the time reactor. He could see the bandicoots on one, but it barely held his attention. He was very fixated on something else. N Gin stood in place a moment before slowly shuffling to stand near the doctor, but kept in mind to allow a healthy distance between them. His presence was, very obviously, unwelcome. This was punctuated as Nefarious swiveled in his chair to stare at him, his jaw set firm and eyes challenging. It was clear his patience, such a fragile thing already, was nearly worn.
He had never been this close to Nefarious, especially not at a level where he could clearly see his face. Often he was looming over him, but here they were nearly equal. N Gin let out a small, amused noise that most closely resembled a squeak. Tropy had freckles, dozens of them dotting his face. Why was this so cute to him? His heart skipped in his chest, and the sensation left him dazed. He swallowed hard and struggled to wrap his mind around these awkward thoughts playing in his mind. They were intrusive, bothersome, but oddly pleasant.
"What do you want?" Nefarious pulled him from his musing, his tone low and the question gritted out as more of a statement. Even in his frustration his tone was smooth. He was clearly exasperated by N Gin hanging around him like some bothersome fly. Tropy was a man of solitude, and he was infringing on that with his ever lingering presence. He couldn't exactly tell the truth, that he was counting the freckles on his face, and tried to think of something else.
"Uh... I'm sorry I'm just... assessing? Yes, assessing the damage." N Gin smiled uncomfortably in his embarrassment, "I'm-I'm... doing... um, maintenance."
"And?" He goaded him on after a lull of silence.
"Uh, hehe, well, Doctor Cortex wanted me to... check... on you, and... see how you were doing." His smile widened with his building anxiety, then added, "A-after what happened, of course..."
He raised a brow, intrigued, and skeptical, "Well you can assure Doctor Cortex that I'm fine and perfectly capable of caring for myself."
Another airy, squeaking sound left him as he thought aloud, "Hhn, well yes, but uh... it's just that... It's my job to maintain our machines."
"I think you'll notice that I'm not a machine."
"Your arm is." N Gin challenged, his tone bordering playful.
"I said I can do it myself." He was getting aggravated, perhaps even flustered.
N Gin gave him a skeptical look, smirking some and forgetting his place, "Then why haven't you?"
He lowered his brow more with a sneer. Tropy rolled his eyes and parted his lips to speak but no words came forth. N Gin chuckled inwardly, watching knowingly as he tried to salvage some excuse. To placate him, he added, "I'm just offering to help you out."
It was completely self serving. He didn't really care much about Nefarious' comfort or impairments, and Cortex's orders were distant in his mind. He really just wanted a closer look at that arm. Prying on Nefarious' work and gleaning information from him for his superior was just gravy.
"You could... watch the monitors and make your adjustments while I fix your hand, it should only take a minute. I-I have an idea what's interrupting its cycle..." He tapped his fingers together. Nefarious was still unconvinced. So badly did he want another look at that arm and have a better understanding of its inner-workings. N Gin pondered a moment then looked up at him hopefully. Nefarious was so impatient, so obsessed with every minute that slowly ticked by. He anxiously added, "J-just think of how much time you'd be saving if you let me help you while you're working."
Nefarious shot him a dubious look. Surely he had to know he was playing him, and for a moment he thought the doctor would throw him out. He stretched his arm out experimentally and N Gin flinched involuntarily, expecting the worst. But it never came. Tropy paused briefly in his motions, then relaxed his arm on the chair rest. He sighed, defeated, "Fine."
N Gin let out a low titter as he murmured to himself excitedly and withdrew the utility tool from his coat pocket. It was a multi-tool he'd made himself. He considered it a necessity and always carried it with him, as he never knew when he would need repairs of his own. He felt so delighted and bubbly as he stared down at the complex mechanism. Where would he start? Usually he began by completely dismantling something, but he didn't feel Nefarious would much appreciate this. A part of him really wanted it for his own to hoard and experiment on. The material was so unique and light, but sturdy, that the prospects of working with it were enticing. But what was it? The texture, the sheen, the faint metallic smell, all were unfamiliar. He realized that he was, again, staring and cast a worried glance up towards the taller man.
Nefarious had turned from him and was absorbed in one of the monitors. He glared at it in his concentration and paid N Gin no mind. With this he felt he had a free pass to take his time and indulge in his curiosities and admiration. Bronze plating and silver tubing intermingled on top of a heavy dark metal frame. Based on the thin build alone, he quickly reasoned it was fragile, and it better explained to him why he wore that bulky gauntlet. He would not readily admit to anyone that, for a while, he thought it was just a tacky watch to match his ensemble.
His fingers were so long and slender, so elegant, especially compared to his own small stubby hands. He found himself drawn to the sensory pads again and squeezed them. They were so wonderfully soft and spongy and it filled him with another wave of glee. It was like a stress relief ball, only much firmer. Another pleasantry is, unlike the rest of his arm, these held faint pulses of warmth. He prodded them again, and again.
Nefarious' fingers twitched in his hands and the man was staring down at him once more, "Why do you keep doing that?"
"To... test your... reflexes." He lied awkwardly and avoided the man's gaze, pretending to be very absorbed in his 'assessments', "E-everything looks good here..."
Nefarious narrowed his eyes, skeptical, "You're playing with them."
"Hehe what? No I'm not, don't be ridiculous..." He mumbled sheepishly and hurriedly began working on the task before him. His face flushed and he knew Tropy was still scrutinizing him, but he would not risk a glance. N Gin let out a small sigh of relief as the man turned from him, slowly, to resume his work. He resisted the urge to palpate his fingers again.
He hoped there were no sensations within the confines of his arm, otherwise this would be horrendously uncomfortable for the both of them. He used one of the thin extensions from his multi-tool and nestled it between the small gap created by the separation of his hand from its metal frame. In here he could catch a peek of the multitude of wires nestled closely to one another. As he'd thought, there was resistance and he flexed the man's wrist experimentally, feeling the slight, gradual pull of something within. He couldn't see what he was doing, so it would be tricky, but he didn't mind. It just allowed him more time to explore and learn. His stomach fluttered oddly as he realized he was holding Tropy's hand.
As he worked on the component he traced his fingers experimentally over the elegant curves, the dips, the thermal vents, and metal coils. He was enchanted by its design. A faint, glowing green could be seen through the crevices. It was placid, alluring. It was oddly exciting being so close to such a beautiful machine, even if it was just a prosthetic. It was the most complex item of its kind he'd ever seen, and he was so curious about it. N Gin could stare at it for hours, poking and prodding, taking it apart and putting it back together. He would love to find ways to modify it, perhaps install some sort of discreet weapons system...
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Nefarious asked dryly and stretched his fingers to test N Gin's handiwork. He gave an shrill giggle in response, startled at the attention and suddenly nervous. How embarrassing to be caught essentially fondling someone's arm.
He tried to play it off and so asked in genuine curiosity, "Ah I was just wondering... did you design this yourself?"
"Yes. I designed it, built it, and attached it."
"I-it's very nice..." He muttered in admiration as he wiggled the tool in his wrist, shifting it ever slightly to try and find the troublesome spot, "I've never seen one like it."
"And you?"
N Gin looked up at him questioningly and Nefarious motioned to his face casually. Yes, he supposed it was rather obvious, wasn't it? He briefly felt a strange sense of camaraderie in that they were both augmented, that they were cyborgs. It was silly, but it made him feel momentarily close, and possibly understood. But it was fleeting, as he remembered this was not the case, and likely never would be.
"Yes. There as an... accident, and I turned the missile into a life support system." It was vague, it was almost always vague. Though he was deeply proud of his accomplishment, it was tarnished with the trauma of the event and the implications that followed. His life had changed so drastically. N Gin suddenly felt anxious as he thought about it. He had gone from being a leader in defense, running his own labs, his own crew, to... this. His anxiety was compounded with guilt. He should be grateful to Cortex for the opportunity. N Gin creased his brow and glared at the hand before him as he worked, thankful that Nefarious could not see the hurt on his features.
There was an intrigued sound from the doctor as he sat up some. This simple statement had apparently ignited something. His voice was lighter, perhaps even bordering excited, "And just how did you do that?"
His stomach fluttered again. He never would have thought such a tone would be possible from someone like Nefarious, and much like his freckles, he found it strangely cute. As he mulled over the question he decided he didn't want to answer, and he didn't want to talk about it, "Hehe, i-it's too much to explain. I-I need to concentrate..."
Fear, angst, anger... these were not becoming feelings to have when talking to your superior. This man surely wouldn't interested in such a story, as his work was honestly mediocre compared to Tropy's accomplishments. He would just be embarrassing himself.
To his relief, Nefarious dropped it and allowed him to work in silence. After a time he'd found the troublesome spot and moved over the pesky wires that had been trapped between a cylinder. It was funny how something so small, so simple, could have such consequences on the system as a whole. It had been in such an awkward, delicate area that he didn't think the doctor would have ever reached it on his own, though N Gin was certain that he would find a way. He knew little about Tropy, but he knew he was persistent, and stubborn, based on the conversations between he and Cortex he'd eavesdropped on.
He flexed his wrist, finally able to complete one fluid motion, and stretched his fingers, seemingly pleased, "Not bad. It isn't perfect, but it isn't bad."
"Thank you, sir." He bobbed his head in approval with a smile to match. He would take the compliment to his work, and naturally it went to his head and filled it with warmth. N Gin was complacent, but it soon changed over into unease when he realized Nefarious was still staring at him. He met his gaze accidentally and could not look away. The little cyborg felt trapped under his scrutiny. It made him nervous and in turn he drummed his fingers together, willing himself to disappear. He knew how apparent his anxiety was and found himself holding his breath to repress any odd tics or sounds that would surely make his situation worse. Had he done something to displease him?
Tropy narrowed his eyes in a glare and N Gin withered under his gaze, drawing into himself and cowering some. Be it out of anger, or curiosity, it was still just as unnerving. After what felt like an eternity, it softened slightly, "You're very different from Cortex."
That was it? That was what he was so anxious about? He almost felt angry at Nefarious for getting him so worked up, but he couldn't help but give a small chuckle of relief. N Gin wasn't sure how to respond to the statement. He knew they were indeed very different. He was both his superior's anchor when he was becoming too unhinged, and his bane because of his own need for methodical planning and attention to detail.
When he offered no response, Tropy continued, "I'm just surprised, is all."
"What uh... what were you expecting?" N Gin asked curiously. That frightening flutter returned at the knowledge Nefarious had been thinking of him, even briefly.
"I suppose I was expecting you to be an incompetent, bumbling ass, much like the good 'doctor' himself..." It appeared as though he wanted to say more, so much more, but he held his silence and instead looked at N Gin expectingly.
He stood by uncomfortably. There was always much to say about Cortex, even he had been guilty of this. But with Tropy it felt different, there was such a strong, genuine, thread of animosity and it made him uncomfortable for two reasons. One is because this was his superior, and he would like to believe his friend. Cortex, though difficult to work with, had done much for him and been there at one of the most desperate times of his life. In turn, he felt a sense of dedication to the man. However, the second reason is because a very small part of him he kept buried deep within agreed with Nefarious.
He suddenly felt paranoid that Cortex could hear them and even knew his thoughts. It was a running fear of his in the back of his mind, and encouraged him to say little that could be construed as negative. Nefarious was so cocky to say such things, so openly as well, and he knew of several instances the two were purposefully antagonistic towards the other. It was mostly petty squabbling, but the emotions behind these arguments were real. N Gin pondered. Who was Nefarious to say such things? Was it not Cortex who was the right hand of Uka Uka, and who ultimately had the final say? His loyalty to his superior gave him a false sense of confidence. In all technicality, Tropy was under Cortex, and as such he wondered if he was jealous. N Gin wanted to call him on this, but any feeling of boldness wavered under that stare.
Instead he took a different approach, the words coming out awkwardly in a sheepish tone, "Have you tried maybe... getting to know him?"
Tropy tilted his head some in curiosity, narrowing his eyes, but offered no response. The lull of silence made him anxious, and compelled him to keep talking to fill it, "Doctor Cortex isn't... isn't that bad. He can be difficult but he knows what he's doing. Y-you... you know you should really show him more respect..."
A small, distant voice in the back of his mind implored him to shut up.
"I-I mean... he's technically your boss. B-but if you talk then maybe you would see you actually have a lot in common and, uh, hhn... " He trailed off with an awkward wheeze as Tropy was suddenly to his feet and towering over him. He quickly realized his mistake when he noticed the man's face was set in anger. He was very clearly pissed, and offended. N Gin gulped and slowly wrung his hands. He felt suddenly vulnerable under his scrutiny. Nefarious was twice his height and had a volatile temper with strength to match.
What was odd about this scenario was the silence between them. Nothing was happening. Nefarious was quick to anger and had no problem degrading and blaming those beneath him. So why was this situation suddenly different? Maybe he was being given grace for fixing his hand, but regardless as to the reason behind it he needed to leave this situation before he made it worse. He had spoken out of turn, and made such a grave mistake as a result.
"I-I should go." N Gin said quietly but found himself rooted in place under Nefarious' stare.
"Yes, you should." He replied coolly. Tropy took a step back and this seemed to break whatever hypnotic hold he had on the smaller man. N Gin continued to stare at him as he shuffled back, wary of his intentions. He could sense something simmering under the surface, but no action was being taken. He wasn't sure what aspect of this scenario made him more anxious, the knowledge that he'd incensed the man, or that he was purposefully restraining something. What was his motivation?
He didn't want to risk spoiling his good favour and quickly, ungracefully, shuffled off to the transporter that lead out of the hub. Nefarious was still staring at him, he was sure of it, but he would not chance a look behind him. The light around him was warm as it engulfed him. It was soothing and for a moment made him forget his stress, his worries, and the embarrassment he'd just put himself through. He wanted to stay in it forever, but naturally it could never last. Cold air rushed over him as he stood in the time reactor.
This place, too, was placid. An eternal sea stretching beneath it only accented by rows of billowing clouds. Stars dotted the sky and reflected on the still surface of the water. As he understood it, this place existed in its own pocket of time. He was curious of its origins, its whereabouts, and what lay beyond the expansive sea below, but he felt those were curiosities that would never be satisfied. N Gin sighed inwardly, lingering in the serene solitude another moment before leaving through the rift that would return him to his own timeline.
The air was much colder here and sent a shiver through him. It was their base, of sorts. It was makeshift, salvaged from the ruins of Cortex's destroyed space station. The body had been mangled and torn by a Brio's laser, but the main hub remained mostly intact upon impact. If it were not for this, and a convenient dwarf moon to catch them, both he and Cortex would probably be dead as a result. N Gin, himself, was particularly resilient but even he couldn't tolerate burning up in the earth's atmosphere.
It was not ideal, and was rather small, but it was familiar, secure, and had most of what they needed in one location. He looked out the massive observation window and could see earth before them. It was always strange, surreal, to look at it from such an angle. It was, in a way, humbling.
The small station would not be permanent, and they would have to abandon it soon due to gradually failing life support and lack of energy, but for now he took a solace in where he was. The low drone of the little hub was soothing and made him feel sleepy as he stared out the window at the expansive sea of stars. He had always loved space.
The lack of gravity on the moon's surface was another bonus. It allowed him to make modifications with such great ease to the giant vessel he was building. It was truly one of his greatest designs and he was immensely proud of it. Even Cortex had given him a wisp of an approval, which naturally inflated him with such jubilation it took him days to stop smiling from it. Even now as he thought of it his ears reddened, he grinned, and he felt such pride, such confidence, such a great sense of security that this would be his time to right himself.
"Find anything?" Cortex stood beside him, sharing a small moment of calm between them as he followed N Gin's gaze towards earth.
N Gin regarded him kindly, still smiling some as the residual praise clung to his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a small squeaking wheeze of uncertainty. His mind blanked. What had Cortex wanted? He stared dumbly before remembering what it was he'd originally gone for. Yes, he wanted information on Nefarious, and about the Time Twister. He wanted to know how it worked and how its power could be harnessed. Cortex craved this information because it could be applied to another long worked theory of his, something about inter-dimensional travel.
He realized that he had been successful at neither. Suddenly all that came to mind about Tropy was how many freckles he had, the stark white hair around his temples, how his fingers so carefully twitched as he concentrated on his work... These fleeting thoughts made his stomach knot and his mouth suddenly dry, "U-uh..."
Cortex stared at him with expecting eagerness. N Gin let out another oddly shrill, wavering sound, "I uh, I delivered the message you wanted me to..."
Seeing his superior's expression fall and brow furrow goaded him to quickly add, "I-I tried to talk to Doctor Tropy, but he's not very social."
"Then you'll have to find a way to make him be social."
"Have... you considered talking to him, sir?" N Gin had asked the same of Nefarious, so he felt it only fair to double his misery.
Cortex looked at him like he was stupid and chuckled lowly, "Oh, believe me I have tried... Find a way to talk to him, I want to know what I'm dealing with."
"Ah I don't... think that's going to happen." N Gin narrowed his eyes and chuckled some, conveniently leaving out the fact he had thoroughly pissed the man off. There was no way Tropy was going to want to talk with him and he considered himself lucky to have left the situation unscathed. He didn't want to play mediator between the two of them, "I think he wants to be left alone."
"It isn't a request." Cortex said simply and watched him, his curiosity apparent. His tone was teasing, almost playful, as he spoke, "You're hiding something. You know I don't like when you keep secrets..."
"No, it's..." He wasn't, or at least not really. The longer he thought of Tropy and their confrontation, the more jittery he felt inside. He knew he appeared anxious, he was so terrible at hiding his rapidly cycling emotions as it was, "I'm sorry, master Cortex. I'm... just distracted. I have a lot on my mind."
That much was true. He was excited to earn his superior's favour, his grace, but he was terrified of failure. Though he was so certain and confident of himself right now, his anxiety and the reminder of past events, past failures, spoiled this. His hands shook and he balled them into fists to hide his nervousness. Cortex knew what he was referring to, and seemed appeased, for now.
"Think of how humiliating it was the last time you went up against them. You were defeated by fruit..." He looked at him sympathetically, but it felt patronizing.
N Gin sneered, he was so tired of constantly being reminded of this, and it made him rapidly lose his composure. It always made him feel so desperate to explain and defend himself, "He-he crammed it into my exhaust system! And my ship overheated! I-I still don't understand how... he-he knew- and then t-the-the explosion-"
"I'm just saying..." Cortex interrupted him. He was quickly becoming hysterical, and it was clear his superior did not want to deal with that, "Let's not have a repeat of last time, hmm?"
Cortex gave him a confident look, but all it did was make him feel embarrassed and uncertain, it made his own excitement and confidence ebb into dread. He listened to the retreating steps of his superior and turned to look out the observation window again.
In the glass he could see his reflection, and it bothered him. He looked pitiful, hunched over and wringing his damn hands with a look of perpetual angst on his features. Again, he reflected on his life and the decisions he had made to get to this point. He dangerously wondered what it would be like had the accident never happened. Would Cortex be a client of his? At his prime, he had the best weapons on the planet, and the thought of Cortex working with him was enticing. But, he reminded himself he should be grateful for this opportunity. He was too unstable, too broken, to carry on the kind of life he had before now. Cortex had reassured him of that during his recovery, and he knew he was right. It did not ease the sting, however.
He glared at himself, hurt, but that changed over to curiosity as he peered closer at his reflection. A few of the screws holding on his face plate were a bit jutted, probably due to the sudden change in atmosphere. He sighed some and reached into his coat pocket then stopped. N Gin patted himself, checking the pockets of his slacks, and every inch of his lab coat. He stopped suddenly and sighed again, this time more of a low whine of frustration. N Gin rested his head against the cool glass in defeat. He had forgotten his multi-tool in the hub of the Time Twister, and left it with Nefarious.