To The Future
Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction.
Not sure how far in the future this one is set; far enough that the current GF players haven't played in quite a while (but they aren't ancient either).
There was nothing when Sinedd woke up to signal that this day would be different from any other. It was just another night of business at Club Nostalgia and not even a particularly interesting one- tonight's match was some former Cyclops (Sinedd organised everything but even he couldn't keep Cyclops players straight or remember their names) and a virtual unknown from Wambas who had been stuck on the reserve team for most of his career. Not every match could be as exciting as last night's- Kernor vs. his former team-mate Fulmugus; they had both been great players and Sinedd wasn't the only one who remembered how Kernor used to be Queen of the Sphere back when they had played Netherball. Still, if he didn't rotate who got to play people would lose interest, and he needed the patronage of lesser-known players as well as the greats.
After all, this wasn't Netherball. This was his Empire, his idea, his club- he was the one pulling the strings from the back room. He played himself occasionally (played and won) but most of the time it was enough just to listen to the crowd, baying for blood. This was Netherball as it should have been. See this was permanent, an untouchable establishment on a planet that was more of a backwater even than Akillian- he wasn't foolish enough go anywhere near Genesis, there the slightest whiff of illegality got sniffed out pretty quickly. Shady dealings didn't really draw much attention here and the fact that most of the players were has-beens helped to keep things that way. After all, only players past their prime had use for the holo-Sphere, a device that allowed them to relive playing like they had in their youth, if only for a brief amount of time. It was that inability to let go of the past that kept them all coming back. For what was more addictive than violence and nostalgia?
Sinedd had set this place up months ago and slowly, as word got around, players had started to trickle in. Now it was packed every night and making Sinedd a ton of cash; all in all it was a pretty sweet set up for him. Matches weren't the only attraction, the place also doubled as a night club, but they were the main one.
But that night was different, Sinedd just didn't know it yet.
The match was well underway and the crowd were enthusiastic as ever. Sinedd was keeping an eye on things, surprised to spot a familiar face in the crowd. He had never expected to see him here. He had to really look to check he wasn't hallucinating but it really was him, his face hadn't changed much at all.
Now it wasn't that he never saw players he knew, he saw them every day, it was that he rarely saw ex-Snow Kids- they were much too 'pure' to get mixed up in this, even now. Mei had come once, her hair had been shorter and there was a butterfly tattoo on her arm that hadn't been there previously, but it was definitely her. She didn't stay long, didn't come again, she went to clubs to forget and this place was all about remembering, living in the past. Not ever wanting to see Sinedd's face again may also have been a factor that kept her away.
But there he was.
Sinedd put on his best smirk and ambled over to where he was standing, tapping him casually on the shoulder.
"Rocket. I didn't expect to see you here." Sinedd takes in Rocket's suit in amusement- he's dressed rather formally for any club, and entirely unsuitably for this one in particular.
Rocket pressed his lips together, grimly. "I should have known you'd be involved somehow."
"Here to sign on for a match?"
"I'm here on business, Sinedd, I've no interest in playing this game." He paused, briefly flashing back to his Netherball days. "Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?"
Sinedd rolled his eyes and finally said: "We can go into the back room, follow me."
He might as well be civil, whilst he found out what he wanted, besides- it might be fun trying to tempt Rocket back into his old ways, it would be a great spectacle if he managed to convince him to play in the holo-Sphere.
Rocket followed him and they sat in silence for a moment listening to the screams of the crowd outside, like background music.
"You run this place?" Rocket asked, stiffly.
"I own it, yes," Sinedd replies, emphasising the word 'own'.
Rocket nods and writes something down.
"So if you're not here to play, what are you doing here?"
Rocket sighed. "I'm here on official business- to investigate this place." He handed an ID card over to Sinedd.
Sinedd took it and scanned it quickly.
"So you're glorified health and safety?" he smirked, he wasn't worried about Rocket shutting him down, not really.
Rocket tensed. "Call me that if you like but at least I'm making an honest living. Now you can make this as easy or difficult as you like."
'How cliché, asking me whether I want to do things the hard way or the easy way, doesn't he know I'd take the hard way any day of the week?' Sinedd thought, trying not to let his amusement show on his face, he's let Rocket believe that he truly thought that his establishment was in danger.
"Be honest, Sinedd, who's really behind this place?"
"I've told you, I run it, I own it. This isn't Netherball, Rocket, there isn't anyone pulling my strings."
Rocket looked unconvinced. "Where did you get the money? The technology?"
"Wasn't the money I got from the Shadows enough? But as it turns out I was written into dear old Artegor's will, guess he felt guilty about abandoning the Shadows," he answered, flippantly. It was true enough though, the old bastard had died of a heart attack (there was something vaguely ironic about that) a few years back, and he'd left plenty of money to go around.
"I see and the tech?"
"It's a holo-trainer that's been slightly modified to make it seem like our old friend, the Sphere; it's not that hard to get hold of."
"Just how similar to the Sphere is it, exactly?"
"Similar enough; it doesn't collect flux though, if that's what you mean."
"I'll take your word for it; that's enough for now, I'll be back for some more visits later," Rocket said, getting up and starting to walk out the door.
"Oh and Rocket," Sinedd said, waiting for him to turn around before continuing. "Sorry about the divorce."
Rocket's fist clenched, briefly, before he visibly relaxed and continued to walk out. It was obvious from Sinedd's tone that he was not in the slightest bit sorry. It hadn't been that long since he and Tia had officially separating, and honestly that was why he had gotten this job in the first place - to fill the empty days, to take his mind off it. It was strange seeing Sinedd again; strange because Sinedd seemed satisfied enough with his life and Rocket was a failure; after all, it had always been the other way round.
He walked back to his hotel room, mentally exhausted already, and flopped on the bed. Seeing Sinedd just reminded him of his youth and how everything had turned out differently to what he had expected. He fished the photo-album out of the nightstand and stared at the first photo of his and Tia's wedding day; they looked so happy back then that it almost killed Rocket to look at it, knowing that it was all his fault that they fell apart.
At the sound of the door opening, Rocket quickly stashed the album under his pillow; he didn't want to look like he hadn't moved on (even if it was true). But it was only a robot come to clean his room.
He sighed and wished that he hadn't been given this assignment; it wouldn't be the last time he wished that either.
The next morning he was up, bright and early, knocking on the door of Sinedd's establishment loud enough to rouse Sinedd from sleep (he always slept in the Club- he had a fold-out bed in the backroom). Wondering what could possibly be making such a racket at such an early hour, Sinedd hauled himself out of bed, opening the door to find Rocket standing there.
"I wanted to see the place when it was a little quieter."
Sinedd gestured him in, not as mocking as he could have been had he had more sleep; he'd become somewhat nocturnal, the last time he actually got up this early was back when he played for the Shadows.
Rocket entered the room, scoping it out; inspecting all of the equipment, taking a photo of the occasional thing, all the time keeping his expression strictly neutral. Sinedd just hung back and let him get on with it; he didn't have anything to hide. Besides, ex-football stars tended to have connections- he knew enough people to feel reasonably secure (although you never could fully trust anybody).
"I'll be going now," Rocket announced, after about half an hour.
"So soon?" Sinedd replied, although truth be told, he was bored about five minutes into the session.
"Yes, well, I think I've got everything that I need for now."
"How about a drink? It could give us a chance to catch up," Sinedd said, teasingly, seeing as he was up so early he might as well put the time to good use (and giving Rocket a bit of a hard time was a good use- besides, he was curious).
"A drink?"
"As in coffee. Unless you'd prefer something stronger?"
"Coffee it is," Rocket relented, still not sure that this was a good idea, it beat moping around in his hotel room though.
A short walk later and they were seated in a typical coffee shop, fairly deserted due to the absolutely terrible coffee they served.
"You know, I never would have guessed that law enforcement was your calling."
"It's not, it's just a job," Rocket replied, shrugging.
"Right…so how did you get into it?"
"D'jok offered me the position and I accepted."
Sinedd threw his head back and laughed. "He must have loved that, being your boss, getting to give you orders- almost makes up for you getting the Captaincy of the Snow Kids back."
"It wasn't like that; he just wanted to help a friend. Besides, I never exactly pegged you for a club owner either."
"I'm a footballer; I'll do anything to keep playing, wouldn't you?"
"Not anything; I wouldn't cross that line again."
"You're wasting your potential; you should play in my holo-Sphere, at least to try it out."
"I'm not interested." He spoke far too quickly for it to be sincere.
"What have you got to lose? There's no obligation to play again and besides, surely it's necessary to experience some things for your self- I'd hate for your investigation to be incomplete." He'd learned to become persuasive over the years, he'd learned from the best (Bleylock, Harris, Artegor and many others that had taken advantage of him) and he knew Rocket well enough to know where his weaknesses were.
"My answer is no," he said, not sounding entirely convinced.
"Fine." Sinedd dropped the subject, knowing he'd return to it later. "So what happened with Tia?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Rumour is she had an affair," Sinedd persisted, keeping the tone casual.
Rocket saw red; he couldn't believe Sinedd's audacity, that he would smear Tia so. He clenched his jaw, using every fibre of self control to stop himself from slugging Sinedd right there and then.
"She didn't," he finally managed to say.
"You did," Sinedd stated, making an accurate guess. "I suppose you have something in common with Uncle Aarch, after all."
"I'm leaving, this was a mistake," Rocket said, cold fury in his voice.
As he walked away, Sinedd called out after him. "See you tonight."
He wasn't scared by violence that was oh-so apparently still in Rocket, underneath the surface; in fact he was encouraged by it.
He'd be back; he was sure of that.
And sure enough, there he was; hands in his pockets, looking entirely lost. This was what winning felt like.
"Back for another health and safety inspection?" he asked, walking over to him, confident of Rocket's response.
"Why me?" Rocket asked, despairingly. It seemed like more of a general question to the universe than to Sinedd in particular.
Still he'd answer the best way he could.
"Because you have nothing to lose."
The problem was that it was true; it was all true and just once more Rocket would like to feel like he had- to feel strong again. To forget everything in the moment and just feel.
"I'll play tomorrow, on one condition."
"And what would that be?" Sinedd asked, raising an eyebrow. He was pleased that Rocket had come around to playing but it was him who set the rules around here, not Rocket.
"That you'll be my opponent. Come on, Sinedd, it'll be just like Netherball."
He didn't even really have to consider it; he'd been itching to play Rocket again ever since he had first showed up.
"I'll watch my ankles then," Sinedd quipped.
"Tomorrow night then," Rocket stated, the expression on his face far more serious than Sinedd's, striding out dramatically.
"He hasn't changed," Sinedd muttered to himself, already buzzing in anticipation of tomorrow's match. After all, it wasn't often he got to play someone who was almost his equal. He was certain that this time he could win.
The time passed slowly for the both of them. Sinedd went about his business but his mind wasn't on it, it was on the match, and everything he had to prove.
It was even worse for Rocket, he spent the day alone in his hotel room; trying to watch tv or read a book without success. He just kept wondering whether he was making a mistake by playing Sinedd; despite reminding himself that it wasn't a betrayal (he didn't have anyone to betray anymore) it still felt like one. But the match seemed inevitable somehow and as Sinedd had told him, he didn't have anything to lose. This job meant nothing to him; this existence meant nothing.
He kept checking the clock, willing time to speed up, to get it over with- one way or another.
After an eternity, it was finally time and as he made his way down to Sinedd's club, he felt like he was walking to his fate. It felt like his last chance.
Sinedd was waiting for him, looking smug as though he had won already, he had in some ways.
They entered the holo-Sphere in eerie silence, lacking entirely in boasts or the usual verbal jousting. The crowd was excited though; many amongst them had seen that fateful Netherball match all those years ago, the prospect of a rematch was almost too much.
Rocket looked down as his fingers, feeling distinctly odd. He'd known before hand that this holo-Sphere would restore you to your former youth, but he'd never really believed he could feel this way again.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Sinedd asked, breaking the silence.
Rocket nodded, trying to concentrate, waiting for the ball to be released.
The match got under way and it felt familiar and unusual both at the same time. It was just as violent as Netherball had been; Rocket could feel all the tension leaving his body, the pain and anger providing the perfect escape from all the thoughts in his head.
He would barely remember it afterwards; it was all a blur, such a rush. It wasn't just a game, it never was just a game, it was personal and only one of them could win.
Or neither of them would.
The match ended in a draw, 3-3.
That was the problem with a draw- it left you nowhere, solved nothing, and favoured no-one. Rocket had gone into the match hoping for some clarity but he now found none, it was just another thing to feel guilty about.
He left the holo-Sphere and ran all the way back to his hotel, the aching in his muscles acting as a punishment for losing control again. Playing that match had taken a toll on him physically but he had a feeling that it was going to trouble him mentally for a lot longer (that always seemed to be the way).
As soon as he returned to the hotel, he started to pack. After all, wasn't running away what he did best. He'd report back to D'jok (he wasn't sure what he was going to tell him), quit his job, and then find a planet where no-one would know him and stay there for good.
His speed packing was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. He went to open it, expecting to see the robot (no doubt choosing the most inopportune moment to clean again) but instead he found Sinedd.
"Leaving so soon?"
"Haven't you done enough? Just leave me alone."
"No," Sinedd retorted, forcing his way into Rocket's hotel room.
"Why won't you leave me alone? Everything is your fault, if you had never introduced me to Netherball then…"
"Then what? You would never hurt Tia? You did that yourself."
"You always seem so willing to drag me into the darkness; why?"
Sinedd gave his trademark smirk, getting closer and closer to Rocket until they were mere inches away.
"Because I want you."
"What?"
"I had you once before, remember?"
It had all been so long ago that Rocket had almost forgotten all of that, lost in the haze of Netherball; it seemed like a lifetime ago, like it had happened to someone else.
"You think it'll be that easy to convince me?"
Sinedd shook his head, laughing. Rocket still didn't get it, there wouldn't be any point to all this if he just did as Sinedd told him, the fight was the fun part. He grabbed Rocket by the shoulder, taking him by surprise, pulling him down into a lip-lock.
"Leave," Rocket ordered, after breaking away.
"I believe that's your speciality- leaving."
"So what?"
"So, you should stay, help me run the club. You could be my business partner," he said, putting particular emphasis on the word 'partner'.
"I've seen what kind of business you run; I'm far from impressed."
"It's better than working law enforcement; you're a footballer, you belong here."
"Money's not the only thing you inherited from Artegor, then. You sound exactly like him, talking to Aarch."
"Well, history does repeat itself." Sinedd kept his tone light, although frankly, it was an insult to be compared to Artegor.
"How pessimistic," he said, smiling despite himself, the first real smile for a long time. The whole situation just seemed ridiculous; just so farfetched. He never would have believed that a simple assignment would have led him down this path.
"Or you could thwart fate and stay here with me."
It might be temporary insanity but Sinedd's offer was starting to sound tempting to Rocket. But he couldn't possibly…could he?
He sighed, knowing that he was cracking.
"I have a job."
The lamest of possible excuse there was.
"Quit."
Rocket paused. "I'll call D'jok; tell him I need to stay another week to get the info he needs. I'll need to see what it would be like living here after all."
"It's a deal then," Sinedd replied, knowing that Rocket would end up staying a lot longer than a week. Normally a deal would have been settled with a handshake but Sinedd chose to seal it with a kiss instead.
That's it for this fic! I hope my characterisation was okay, Rocket/Sinedd isn't really strongest point but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. I guess I have the excuse that they are older and lots of other stuff has happened, which is bound to change someone, even if just slightly. Review please!