Occupational Differences
It had been a long, stressful day for Sasha Phyronix. After being elected as Mayor of Metropolis, she quickly discovered that she could barely have a spare moment to herself, instead finding that she was constantly drowning in her work. While this was to be expected as a politician, she found it was now very difficult to maintain a relationship. She had been involved with Ratchet, a young lombax of 20, for the last ten months, but the last time she was seeing him for more extended periods of time was more than three months ago, before she got elected.
Ratchet was busy too. During Sasha's campaign, she had assigned Ratchet as captain of her old ship, the Starship Phoenix, the pride and joy of the Galactic Fleet. Given that he had almost single-handedly defeated Dr. Nefarious, it seemed that he was the strongest candidate for this role. He gladly accepted the title, and was working almost constantly, like Sasha. After all, a ship doesn't run itself, but at least he had Clank and Al up on the bridge with him, which made their long days more bearable.
The only time the couple saw each other was at night. Sasha would come aboard the Phoenix, Ratchet from the bridge, to meet up in their private quarters. They would make dinner, chat about their days, and then go to bed. And for the last three months, their lives together would consist of the dinner-chat-bed routine, with little variation. Sasha didn't think it was a bad relationship by any means, but the lack of progression was what made this hard for her. She really liked Ratchet: he was smart, kind, funny, handsome, everything she had ever wanted. Who was she kidding? Sasha's feelings were stronger than that. She had fallen in love with him, and she had fallen hard. She had thought long and hard about the prospect of marriage and kids, and they had talked about it in passing for the first time four months ago, strongly suggesting that it was on the table for the lombax. However, they only saw each other in the evenings. How could you maintain a relationship and raise kids during the evening hours?
"You can't," Sasha mumbled to herself as she lowered her ship onto the landing pad on the Phoenix. Home. She opened the cockpit and clambered out, rehearsing what she planned to say to the unsuspecting lombax. She couldn't believe she was actually going to do this. She looked down the deck, which was brightly lit up, and had the odd Galactic Ranger wandering about. At the top of the stairs located at the end of the deck, Ratchet emerged from the transport vessel that led to the bridge. Upon eyeing the cazar, his face lit up.
Seeing Sasha was the best part of Ratchet's day. Although brief, there wasn't a single moment he would change. He loved cooking with Sasha, and the occasional food fights they would have, where Ratchet would playfully rub flour onto Sasha's face, causing her to laugh and throw flour in his direction, only for them to embrace and share a passionate, floury kiss. He could hardly wait to hear about the various people Sasha got to meet during the day, the colourful characters and their crazy stories. He also took great pride in reporting how well he was running her old ship too. And their nights together started off as frantic, and then fell into a peaceful lull before they drifted off to sleep. In Ratchet's mind, they were perfect. He felt they got along so well, with no friction between the pair. With the exception of one person springing to mind, he couldn't imagine anyone else making him feel this happy, this good about himself. But even then, she was a thing of the past and there was no way he would ever see her again. He didn't think he would ever step foot in the Bogan Galaxy again and that old relationship was over, irreparable, distant. Although Ratchet admitted to himself that it was a callous way of viewing it, she didn't matter anymore.
Sure, he'd like to see Sasha more, but there would be plenty of time to figure out what they would do when they wanted to settle down. Maybe they would find a place in Metropolis, where Ratchet would open his own garage, spending his day tinkering with and servicing various ships while Sasha was in office. It was a possibility, but he knew they would figure it all out. It would be perfect.
"Hey," Ratchet greeted the cazar as he neared the bottom of the stairs, planting a kiss on her cheek as he pulled her into an embrace. "Are you hungry?" he asked, taking her hand and leading her to their private quarters, a fair-sized room, consisting of a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom, which Ratchet was assigned to when the Tyhrranoid threat was in full swing. He had made these quarters his new home, and didn't dare venture into the captain's cabin. He liked everything the way it was now and didn't feel the need to upgrade to a different room. Besides, he always felt like the captain's cabin was still Sasha's room, even though she wasn't a member of the Galactic Fleet anymore. It felt intrusive, as if it was still her space.
"Absolutely," she replied with a small smile, and followed the lombax. Though he didn't dare question it, Ratchet could have sworn he saw Sasha's eyes glaze over for a split second. Something seemed off tonight, and he could feel it. But what?
Maybe I'm just being paranoid, he thought, trying to shake the uneasy feeling he got from the cazar. Feeling the apprehension subside, Ratchet continued with his evening. He led her into the kitchen, and gently let go of her hand. He looked at her, his gaze lingering for a split second longer than most people would hold their gaze, and felt a warm fuzzy feeling rise inside of him. "I love you," he said warmly, with a happy smile accompanying it.
"I love you too," she replied, feigning happiness. Ratchet could have sworn that for a split-second Sasha hesitated, which was unusual for her. Normally her response was automatic, immediately rolling off the tongue. This lombax wasn't buying her act. Unless...
Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe we're both tired, he concluded before moving to the fridge, opening the door and peering inside. "I was thinking of making pizza tonight, sound good?" he called from the fridge, scanning the ingredients contained within, while having an ear cocked, listening to her response. Instead, he heard the scraping of a chair against the floor, and the sound of a single sniff, like...
Is she crying?
He quickly zipped out of the fridge, gave the door a swift kick to close it, and dashed across the room to the dining table, where Sasha had pulled out a chair and sat down. Wet tear tracks glistened on her face, matting her fur. He dropped to his knees beside her, looking up at her distraught face.
"What's wrong?" he asked, taking her hands in his, face filled with concern. She didn't answer, avoiding eye contact, so he asked again. Finally, she looked him dead straight in the eye.
"We need to talk."
"Uh... okay," he said, picking himself up and grabbing the other chair. He positioned it beside Sasha and sat down. "About what?"
Sasha sighed deeply, preparing herself to deliver the awful news. "What do you want out of this relationship?"
Ratchet was taken aback by the question and took a few moments to think of an answer. "Well, I suppose I've always wanted kids. And we could get married eventually." He leaned forward in his seat. "But I mentioned this ages ago. It was one time, but we talked about this."
"But we only see each other during evenings like this. Do you honestly think we could raise a family like this?" she asked with a disheartened expression, one that tore at Ratchet's heart.
"Well, no," he replied. "But I figured we would settle down properly before we did all that stuff."
Sasha felt her stomach knot up. That was the biggest problem in her mind - would they actually be able to settle down? Sasha had only just started her four-year term as mayor and had always intended to run for a second term if things fared well. As far as she was concerned, those eight years had already been decided upon. She expressed this decision to Ratchet, whose face turned dark with anger.
"I appreciate that you're ambitious and career-driven," he said flatly, "but this is the sort of thing we discuss together. Eight years Sash, that's not something to be taken lightly. You don't just say you're going to do something and then you'll do it, you have to see where it fits in with us." Unable to process what he was hearing, he stood up and stormed away from her, heading towards the door leaving their private quarters. Before exiting, Ratchet spun on his heel. "We're supposed to be a team, Sasha!" he yelled from the doorway, his voice cracking. "We're supposed to discuss things and decide what we want to do together!"
Sasha spoke very softly, though Ratchet's delicate hearing was able to pick up her barely audible utterance, one that shattered the lombax's heart: "Maybe we shouldn't be a team."
As she looked up at him, she could tell from his face that he had heard.
He didn't know how to respond, so he left without saying another word.
She found him on the bridge, sat in the large seat that overlooked the entire room. It was filled with computers running along the windows, each paired with a large, padded seat. In the centre of the room was a large monitor that was used for communications. It remained dark, displaying a faint reflection of the room on its screen. Sasha leaned against the safety rail beside his seat. She leaned forward and rotated his chair around so he would face her. He was sat in a slumped position, with one leg bent with the foot resting on the seat, the other leg hanging limply. He propped his head up with his hand, which was leaning on the knee of his raised leg. Under his eyes were small tracks of damp fur which had been matted by tears.
"What do you want?" he asked dully. It was evident from the way he held himself that he had been hurt badly.
"To talk," she replied, guilt creeping up within her.
"That's all I wanted before," Ratchet murmured, refusing to look at her. "We talk things through and decide what we want to do and when we can do it."
Sasha fell silent, the guilt-inspired knot in her stomach tightening even further. "Not that kind of talk," she mustered weakly.
"Oh."
"I understand that I should have talked to you about a second term. You're absolutely right, it was selfish of me to decide on something without at least mentioning it to you, especially since you've run everything past me. And for that I'm sorry." She paused, noticing Ratchet still wasn't looking up at her. Little did she know, he was bracing himself for the terminal line. She continued. "If you ignore the prospect of a second term, I've still got four years in this position. That's four years of evenings like this." She leaned forward, using a hand to clasp beneath Ratchet's jaw, raising his face to look at hers.
She uttered a single phrase that made the lombax feel nauseated, yet deep down he knew she was right: "We can't keep doing this."
"I know."
"Besides, I'm technically supposed to be living on Kerwan as part of my position."
"And I have to stay on the Phoenix."
"Uh-huh."
"And take care of her."
"Yeah."
Unable to withstand the soured atmosphere, the cazar stood up and turned to leave. The lombax's razor-sharp hearing caught another utterance; "I'm so sorry." As the large automated doors closed behind her, Ratchet felt his world go dark. He had lost another important woman in his life so soon after the first. A cold shiver crept up his back and into his chest as the realisation of what had happened began to sink in.
He was alone.
The tiny robot, designated with the serial number B5429671, found the lombax curled up in the chair, asleep. He cocked his head, unsure why Ratchet was here instead of his personal quarters. He knew the reason wasn't good. He walked up to Ratchet, who didn't even stir.
"Ratchet?"
"... whuh?"
"What are you doing here?" Clank asked gently as his friend slowly woke up. Despite being Captain of the Phoenix, Ratchet could never reach the bridge before Clank. The warbot defect had a knack for being incredibly punctual. Seeing the lombax as he entered was a rather unusual and unnerving sight for the tiny robot.
Ratchet rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wiped the trail of drool from the side of his mouth before answering. "Sasha and I broke up," he said flatly, trying to mask any emotion in his voice. The usual twinkle in his emerald eyes was absent and Clank detected this, his databases indicating that the lombax was emotionally distraught, yet his facial features were neutral.
Clank could tell he was trying hard to mask his emotions and noticed his jaw was clenched shut, his muscles tensed.
"I believe I saw Sasha by her ship," Clank informed Ratchet, "though I was not aware of the separation. Judging from the quantity of luggage she had, it may be possible that she is leaving the Phoenix."
Ratchet felt his heart sink even further. "I know she's going, pal," he said softly. Clank detected hints of sadness in his long-time friend's voice and concluded that he knew Sasha would be leaving in the near future. The slight facial tic Clank spotted, what one may call wincing, suggested Ratchet hadn't anticipated that it would be this soon. Recalling how things had been left - abandoned - with Angela Cross, Clank decided his next suggestion would be a reasonable one.
"Perhaps it may be best if you say goodbye to Sasha," he offered, his optics trained hard on Ratchet's face. He shook his head in response.
"I don't think she'll want to see me."
"I think it will be best Ratchet," Clank replied, "considering you now have the time and the choice to say goodbye."
"I don't think so," Ratchet murmured, his ears drooping slightly. He didn't want to head down the deck. Parting with Sasha the night before had been painful and to relive the experience would be unbearable. The verbal confirmation that he would never be able to hold her, to kiss her, to be a part of her was too much to bear. Ratchet had faced a lot of difficult and challenging experiences in his life and conquered; this wasn't one of them.
The large mechanical doors to the bridge whirred open automatically, causing robot and lombax to look up at their guest.
"Sasha," Ratchet said, springing to his feet. He walked towards her, his heart breaking. Unsure of what to say, he felt his heart come out of his mouth; "Please don't do this. I don't want you to leave."
"I don't want to go either," she said, locking her sapphire eyes on Ratchet's tear-filled emerald ones and felt the sickening pang of regret.
"Then don't," Ratchet strained, his voice cracking. He fought back his tears with every ounce of strength, but it was futile. They poured down his face, soaking into his yellow fur.
"Goodbye Ratchet," she mustered. She leaned forward, placed a quick kiss on his cheek, and left. That was the last time Ratchet saw Sasha Phyronix and he couldn't stop himself from sobbing uncontrollably.
So I finally wrote it. It certainly took a while, but I'm happy with it. If you've stumbled across this and you haven't read my other stuff, this is a prequel to Reflection. You can find it on my profile. If you liked this, you can check that, and its sequel The Father And The Daughter, out too. If you also liked it, favourite, review, whatever you'd like to do, it's all awesome and I really appreciate it.
Also, as a little bonus thing - are there any artists out there? If any of you incredibly talented people have been artistically inspired from my stuff and felt like creating artwork based around it, let me know! I'm looking to update my story covers with better artwork instead of a quick Google Images search, but I am severely artistically challenged. If you've created anything and would like to nominate yourself please step forward - I don't bite!
So yeah, until next time, peace!
~Subtle
