Foreword:

So much for my being able to post one chapter a week, huh? :( That's what I get for thinking I'm almost done. When will I learn? I'm NEVER almost done! DX *sighs* Anyway, I should probably warn you guys that the next chapter is almost completely new content and I expect to have a little trouble getting it to fit in with all the pre-written content behind and ahead of it. I'll do my best to get it out in a timely manner, but I can't make any promises. Today is my usual day to write, and as it's my birthday, I'd rather not spend it doing work, even if it's fun work. :P

Muckrake [muhk-reyk] – to search for and expose real or alleged corruption, scandal, or the like.

« « « « « ж » » » » »

My body was tense as I slowly wired the detonator. If this thing blew up in my hands, Becky's wrath would be the least of my worries. The wire slid into place without incident, and I relaxed. Now I just needed to make five or six more of these. I screwed the device's outer casing into place and gently nestled it on the bottom of the crate I'd pillaged for its parts. The little disc-shaped machine was about as thick as my finger and could fit in the palm of my hand, but if my calculations were right, it could explode with enough force to do some serious damage. It was the first thing I'd ever built that I truly hoped I would never have to use.

Halfway through assembling the next one I heard the bay doors opening on the distant end of the room and went still and silent until the welcome sound of Becky's voice announced, "Hey, you two."

She sounded sad for some reason.

"Becky, we found something," I said excitedly, abandoning my project on the floor and rushing over to her.

Bob, still standing on the stool I'd set up for him over by the computer console, frowned and shrieked in protest.

"Okay, technically he found it," I admitted, earning a satisfied smile from the monkey.

Becky didn't even seem to notice me and just stared dejectedly at the console screen. Bob pointed to the list of communication logs and squeaked out his explanation.

"See?" I said as though I'd understood him. "Doesn't it seem strange that all of the ship's recent communications have been to and from the same space station?"

Becky considered this for a moment, then gave a sorrowful sigh. "Well, we are stopping at a space station before Lexicon."

"Yes but why would all of the communications be going to just that station? The crew has family and friends on Lexicon, don't they? If this was a legitimate mission that Lexicon commissioned, wouldn't at least one person on this ship be having direct contact with the planet?"

Becky sighed and bit her lip, looking thoughtful for a moment. I held my tongue and dared to hope that she was considering my point. Then, "It is a little strange, but… it still doesn't prove anything."

My fists clenched in frustration. "Oh, come on, Becky! Even the monk—I mean, even Bob agrees with me on this!"

Becky turned to her sidekick and asked, "Bob, do you think this is proof that there's something shady going on?"

Bob wilted a little, and shook his head.

I crossed my arms and snapped, "Traitor!"

"Tobey, don't be like that. There could be any number of legitimate reasons why they would restrict their communications to that space station. It could be a chain of command thing, or that station might just be their assigned contact point…"

I grumbled and looked away. Becky, on the other hand, flew up to me and put a tender hand on my shoulder. "Tobey, I know you don't want to be separated from me, and I'm touched by that, I really am… I'm just concerned that your attachment to me might be clouding your judgment. I think you may be interpreting everything you find in your investigation under the presupposition that Darix and his crew are up to something."

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to decide how I felt about what she was saying. As much as I hated her suggestion, it didn't sound ridiculous as I wished it did.

Bob squealed in confusion, and Becky solemnly explained, "A presupposition is something that you decide is true before you have all the information. So if Tobey was convinced that something shady was going on before he started to investigate, that would be his presupposition, and he might only look for evidence that he's right and ignore anything that suggests he might be wrong."

"That's not what I'm doing," I snapped. It wasn't, right? I wasn't so petty that I could convince myself of something that wasn't true just to get my way… was I?

Flashbacks from my years as a villain suddenly invaded my mind, and a chill ran down my spine.

"Tell you what," she cooed gently, "Why don't I ask Darix about the communication logs? I could tell him I stumbled upon it while I was trying to send a message to Earth and act like I'm just curious. I'm sure he has a reasonable explanation."

"I'm sure he does, too," I spat suspiciously, "But his explanation doesn't help us if he's lying."

"Why do you just assume he would be lying, Tobey? You're the one who said there might be a traitor on the crew, and if that's the case, I'm sure the Captain would want to—"

She halted mid-sentence and looked past me. "What's that?"

I followed her gaze to the open cargo container I was working with and the unfinished device I was building lying on the floor.

"Nothing yet," I shrugged.

She flew past me and stared down at my project, then looked inside the open container where I'd been collecting components for it. When she turned back to me, her expression was borderline horrified. "Now you're stealing from them?"

"I'm not stealing," I said. "I'm merely—utilizing the resources that are available to me. Nothing I've built has left their possession, technically."

Besides, they're stealing you from me, I wished I could add.

"Tobey, I can't believe you! After all this time and you made so much progress… I thought you were better than this by now! I thought you had changed!"

With that she turned and flew away, her last cutting words still ringing in my ears. I stood still and silent, trembling as conflicting emotions surged within me. I felt angry, and at the very person I was trying to protect. Why didn't she understand? Couldn't she see that I was doing this for her? But at the same time, I also felt a twinge of shame. Becky was losing faith in me. That realization brought tears to my eyes. Her faith in me had been hard won by arduous struggle, and now I was throwing it away. I was doing it for what I thought was a good enough reason, but I was doing it nonetheless. Was it worth it?

I frowned and steeled my emotions. Of course it was worth it. If Becky was in danger, any sacrifice was worth it. Still…

Bob waddled in front of me and looked up into my eyes with a concerned expression.

"What do you want?" I asked sourly.

Bob pointed at the door with a squeak, and I frowned in surprise. "You want me to go after her?"

Bob smacked his forehead and shook his head, then pointed again with a more pronounced squeak. It looked like we were playing charades again.

"Becky?" I guessed.

Bob nodded, then frowned sharply for a split second and made an X with his hands.

"Becky… isn't… mad…?"

Bob smiled and pointed at me.

I blinked in disbelief. "Becky isn't mad at me? How do you figure that?"

Bob pointed at the door again, made a frightened face, and then pointed once more at me.

"Becky is… afraid of me?"

Bob shook his head, and held up all the fingers on one hand.

"Becky is afraid for me…" I muttered in awe.

With a soulful smile Bob clasped his hands tightly in front of his face, and this time I didn't need to guess what he was trying to say. "You are her friend. She cares about you."

I smiled, strangely heartened by this bizarre one-and-a-half-sided conversation with a sentient monkey. I took a deep breath, and forced myself to consider Becky's point of view. If she cared about me so much that my safety mattered more to her than her own, it was no wonder she was hurt and frustrated by my series of rash decisions that were only getting me deeper and deeper in trouble. She was right to worry.

She was… right.

"I'm just concerned that your attachment to me might be clouding your judgment."

"I thought you were better than this by now! I thought you had changed!"

I shuddered, and for the first time I dared to question something that until now I had taken for granted. Was I really doing this… for her?

« « « « « ж » » » » »

Oooooh, that boy! That captious, obstreperous, incorrigible BOY!

I drifted through the ship in a temper, grumbling to myself in a futile attempt to blow off some steam. How dare he? What was wrong with him? I didn't know if I was madder that Tobey was backsliding from his resolution to be good, or that he was willfully piling up steeper and steeper consequences from which I may not be able to rescue him. What was I supposed to do now? How could I protect him when the biggest threat to his safety was his own stubbornness?

In my frustration I forgot to watch where I was going, and collided with someone standing in the corridor.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, looking up.

Gray looked back at me, his expression barely surprised. "Need something?"

"Huh?"

"You seemed to be in a hurry," Gray clarified. "Can I help you?"

I almost said no, ready to rattle off some vague excuse, but then I remembered the frustration that had caused me to blunder into him in the first place, and the emotion once again took over. I was tired of letting all this dangerous nonsense fester inside me while I tried to pretend nothing was wrong. I wasn't about to expose Tobey just yet, but I needed some kind of direction or reassurance. Some sound council that my mind could lean against. Otherwise I might go crazy from stress and worry.

"Actually," I said, twiddling my fingers, "I do have a question I want to ask."

"Go on," said Gray.

I took a deep breath, then solemnly blurted out, "What do you do when you want to trust someone, but you can't?"

Gray blinked, his placid face growing even more blank. "Oh. That's—not the kind of question I was expecting." He turned to the console in front of him and hurriedly pressed a button, clearing the screen. "Why? Is there someone on the crew who you don't trust?"

"No, nothing like that. It's just something that's been on my mind lately."

It was true enough.

"I see," Gray murmured, raising a knuckle to his lip in a thoughtful gesture. "Well, I doubt my advice would be very useful to you. For a Lexiconian, I'm not very good with words."

For some reason his hesitancy warmed my heart a little, and I found myself randomly inserting, "On Earth they say that actions speak louder than words."

Gray gave me an incredulous look, which I returned with a shrug and a sheepish smile. "I never completely understood it myself, but I think there's a good sentiment behind it."

In a shocking display of emotion, Gray returned my smile with a coy little half-smirk. "All I can say is, I don't think your question is a 'what' question."

I cocked my head in confusion. "Meaning?"

"You said 'what.' 'What should you do when you can't trust someone you want to trust?' But I think what you really need to be asking is 'why.' Why do you want to trust them? And why can't you?"

I stared dumbfounded at Gray, trying to digest his advice. On the surface, it seemed just as useless as he'd claimed it would be, but at the same time, it rang with truth. I wasn't sure why, a part of me believed that cryptic little hint just might be the key to figuring out this whole mess with Tobey.

Just then my ears picked up on a sound—a faint, searing noise that was coming from just outside the ship. It kind of sounded like a missile. I didn't even have time to gasp in surprise before the faint noise turned into an explosion, and the whole ship quaked violently.

"What's happening?" I asked, glancing fearfully around.

"The ship's under attack," Gray announced, and he zipped off down the corridor with no further explanation.

My heart was pounding. An attack? Who would attack us? And why?

The ship shook again, and I put aside my questions in favor of instinct.

"Wait for me!" I shouted after Gray as I jetted after him.

« ... »

Uphold me according to your promise, that I may live, and let me not be put to shame in my hope!

— Psalm 119:116

Author's Notes:

-Alexithymia— I had a really hard time capturing Tobey's mental and emotional state in this chapter. What I was going for was a very layered feeling that is somewhat difficult to describe… a conflict of interest between his base and better nature, resulting in the disturbing realization that he doesn't know whether he's risking his life because he wants to protect Becky, or just because he wants to keep her close. Is he being selfless, or selfish? Noble or just stupid? And when he's honest with himself, he isn't really sure. I hope that came across okay. :|

-Theme Song: "Renegade" by Manafest— This song describes an internal struggle not over ideals or decisions, but motives. Tobey is realizing that whether the things he's doing are good or doing evil completely depends on why he's doing them, and he's beginning to doubt his own motives. He really wants to believe that he's not turning back, that he is doing this for the right reasons, but he can't deny that his history is against him.