Canadians Rock: I try to make this interesting for you.

The Only Liberator: Yeah, I suffer on intros and descriptions. But I'm glad you stayed.

Also, I love this fandom. You guys are really willing to give any story a chance. Seriously, 900 reads on this puppy. You guys are awesome

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The Young Orange lombax was scarred. What was going to happen once he took that vial… the poison that would dissolve his body… killing him. He wasn't sure what to do, or rather, if he could do it.

He knew the protocol, he knew the risks. He'd even broken protocol, which meant that he deserved to die. If he returned, he would be executed for treason. He couldn't argue against it, as he knew what he was supposed to do.

But there was an emotion that kept him from drinking the vial: Fear. He was eight, Lombaxes could live to be one hundred years old. He had such a long life to live for. If he drank the vial… would it be quick or would it be long? Would it be painful or would he gradually just slip out of consciousness?

He wished his partner were here, even for all of the pain it would cause her, or at least, he hoped it would. She had left without a word, there were never any words between them on missions. She had always been an inspiration for him, always being duty oriented and courageous. She could drink the vial without hesitation. But here he was, the smaller, weaker, craven counterpart to a great servant of their empire.

He watched his hands shake as he uncorked the vial. He was still scarred, despite all of the mental processing and justifying he had done. What was waiting for him after he drank the vail? Was there something beyond this life, or was he throwing away the only existence he had?

He could hear the sound of feet tearing through the forest. The enemy was searching around for them. He hoped his partner could get away. He didn't mind saving her… In fact he enjoyed it. He felt good from it. The Orange lombax had never been the savior of a mission before. He'd been the spotter, never a great champion.

Now he felt better, like there was less lost in his mistake. He gazed down at the glowing orange liquid.

The White Lombax couldn't take another step. She'd frozen after climbing out of the dried river bank, and over the hill. It was stupid, it a foolish closeness that had developed.

Yeah, her partner was a loser, going on the lower end of mission ratings. But he was her loser. He'd saved her a few times, and he'd never let her down. Even on this mission, he'd forgone the praise of killing her, and instead chosen to save her. To just leave him felt… wrong.

She still needed to push forward. She could get a new partner, one who'd do just as good, if not better than her old one. She needed to think of the Lombaxes, and remind herself that there was no room for attachment in their ranks. The Lombax Empire was her family, not just one partner.

She steeled herself and moved forward, despite every fiber of her being crying out to help the…whimpering, sniveling brother who had saved her life. She had violated protocol horribly by not moving far enough away. She knew in that moment why the protocol existed. Listen to him slowly suffer, painfully struggling to even take the vial meant to end his misery… It was torturous.

She felt a drop of water fall on her cheek and looked up. There were no clouds. Oh no… she was displaying emotional attachment… not a good sign. She shook herself, and moved her two-ton foot forward. Her partner squeaked again in pain, and she took another heavy step forward. Would her new partner cuddle on cold nights like he had? Would the new partner signal her when danger approached? Would the new partner give her the rare meat and bread wraps that were served occasionally in the mess hall(Those were her favorites).

The white lombax child simply trudged forward, ignoring her fibers which told her to turn around and rescue her companion. She would have to seek aid from the elders, to kill these rising feelings in her chest. The Lombax didn't dare look back.

The Orange Lombax uncorked the vial, again feeling the weight of this honorable suicide. He had stupid, primitive voices screaming to not take it, and try to survive. He knew these voices were to be ignores. The big screens had laid it out clear, any risk of capture meant suicide, for the good of the empire. The good of the empire?

He still had a hard time piecing that together. He barely knew anything, how was his death supposed to save their empire? Was it a symbolic salvation? The elders wouldn't lie, they knew what needed to be done, but still he questioned them. Who was he to do so? The Orange lombax shivered, his fingers feeling cold. He was a fool, and he needed to get on with the necessary deed, instead of trying to justify failing his sacred duty.

He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and raised the vial to his lips, only to have a warm hand push the contents onto the ground. The Orange lombax jerked around, reaching for his pistol, ready to put a blast in his own skull, only to see white fur stop him. He turned, and saw his partner there, smiling… smiling. An emotional expression.

She held his hand, and for the first time, his doubts actually silenced themselves. She laid down behind him as the roaming parties seemed to scatter all around them. They were still hidden. She was the reason he needed to die. If he was captured, they could hunt her, and all of the other lombaxes.

The Orange lombax kept quiet as the roaming parties called out, signaling each other to continue searching. It was surprisingly difficult, because of the pain in his side. But when his partner hugged him tighter, he found the pain to be bearable.

A piece of dirt crumpled above them, and the two Lombaxes froze. The young white lombax felt her partner's heart racing, and she recognized that he would act rashly if not comforted. She pressed her forehead against his back, and placed a hand over his mouth. He reacted mildly shocked, but recognized her and calmed down. He trusted her, and she trusted him.

Another speck of dirt felt, indicating whoever was above them had moved.

The Orange smiled. He didn't care that he wasn't supposed to, he felt… fine. He was warm from his partner's hug, and though dirt, he was alive. He had done a great service, and if this was where he died, then his service would have been honorable.

The White lombax pushed her forehead under his arm, and tugged up. Her partner hissed in surprise, but followed her lead, slowly rising, and wincing. He was hurt, not fatally, but enough to warrant restricted movement. No jumping and skirmishing for them. Still, she dragged him, supporting her partner the best she could around the dried river banks. They seemed to go undetected.

The recovery zone was approximately half a mile away. The Orange Lombax was skeptical they could even make it that far while he was slowing her down. But her confidence infected him, and he continued to trudge forward. She was fierce and determined, and that determination inspired him to keep marching forward.

As the two reached a second mini-cave in the bank, she set him down, against the wall, and walked forward. As she trudged through the moist sand, she spotted two patrols who were searching down the river bank. It was likely that another set of patrols were going up the bank to meet them. They had a limited window.

The Orange lombax slumped. She had realized the difficulty of transporting him to an extraction, and had wisely chosen to abandon him. He laid there, and awaited his fate. Would he be captured? No, He wouldn't allow it. He pressed into his pocket, and pulled out the utility knife. He couldn't disintegrate his body, but he could prevent any secrets from being tortured out of him.

The White Lombax quickly grabbed her partner, shocking him, and almost causing him to slit his own throat. That determination would save their people, but she didn't need it that moment. She didn't want it that moment. She could save him, and there was no reason not to. She picked him up, earning a whimper, probably from her touching his injured side, and they trudge up the river bank, rushing to try to get over the hill before-

"Oi, theh the Ah" A voice cried.

In the Present, Ratchet awoke, feeling the warm on his back. Clank and Kit seemed to be in rest mode in the corner of the honestly roomy cell. The warmth on his back was his fellow lombax, cuddling up to him to keep warm in the somewhat chilly cell.

Rivet, on the other hand, had been all to happy to not feel cold. She didn't exactly enjoy any chilly weather, so her old partner was easily the best teddy bear to feel warm. She still felt warm, even half asleep, and start to purr.

Ratchet pulled away from her, warranting a grumble of protest, but still sitting up. He still had a hard time registering that he knew her since they were practically two. Ratchet stretched, glancing down at Clank, who definitely was going to need some new legs.

Rivet, however, was mildly upset she was now cold, and rose up from the ground. She took a moment to register where she was before muttering, "Good morning."

Ratchet turned around, "Oh…Uh good morning."

She smiled up at him and stretched, her mechanical right arm doing a spin.

"Good Morning, Ratchet." Clank smiled, appearing to leave rest mode. Kit vibrated to life, before waving, and clutching her metallic hands shyly.

Rivet held up her robotic hand, and the two high-fived. Rivet then saw the look of regret on Ratchet's face. She knew she had to say something, so she decided to admit something that she had kept inside her ever since that day, "Hey, I don't regret going back for you." Rivet smiled awkwardly.

Ratchet blinked and gave an awkward smile back, "I-… Thank you. I wish… I just wish I had family here, so I wouldn't feel like I was on my own…. With you guys… something like- you get the idea." Ratchet scratched the back of his head and looked down, "What about you, Rivet? Do you have any family we can ask for help?"

Rivet looked down, and slumped. Clank seemed to shuffle, as did Kit.

Ratchet looked at the group curiously, "What?"

Rivet opened her mouth at the same time Clank did, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. "You go ahead Bolts." She muttered, slumping.

Clank nodded, "Ratchet… when the lombaxes were scanning our memory banks, I was able to breach their system. I obtained several pieces of information, from schematics to education programs."

Ratchet nodded, "Yeah, and did you find anyone?" He wanted to know if he had any brothers or sisters or anyone he could count on.

"Ratchet… they appear to be a collectivist society." Clank explained, or rather didn't explain because Ratchet didn't understand that in the slightest.

"What?" Ratchet blinked.

Rivet decided to rip the stupid bandage off, "We don't have Families. We are born, get three days with our mothers to give us just enough time to see lombaxes as friendly, and then get sent off to a facility to become infiltrators and raiders." She growled, but in reality, she couldn't help but feel a little bad, both for Ratchet and herself. She'd seen the Morts have little families, and she'd wondered occasionally…

Ratchet blinked, "No families… Like at all?"

Clank shook his head, "Your family is your partner. Typically male and Female to encourage reproduction to expand the amount of manpower available after reaching maturity."

Ratchet kind of understood what he was saying, and he awkwardly waved at Rivet, "I like you, but that's a little fast for me."

Rivet nodded, sharing the awkward smile, "Yeah, let's try dinner before we go there."

The two shared an awkward chuckle. Ratchet and Rivet smiled at each other.

Ratchet decided it would be best to say it again, "I'm glad I met you, all of you." He didn't like what his mind was thinking, but it sort of ignored his requests to stop feeling hopeless. He thought he was going to die.

Rivet put up a brave face, but she was feeling the same way. She did her best to smile, and move forward, fully aware that she was probably going to be executed. Rivet had done the calculations, and her case did not look good at all. Ratchet might get off, especially since it wasn't a Lombax judging them, but she was doomed.

The door of the cell opened, and a small, boxy robot on treads appeared. [Greetings Prisoners, Food has arrived] The metallic voice lacked any personality or expression. It rolled up, and opened its front to dispense two bowls of brown mush, with two spoons.

Ratchet walked up, and picked up the mush, giving an awkward smile at Rivet, who sat down, and ate it. Was this seriously what they were going to eat?

Ratchet pressed the mush to his lips, parted those lips, and ate it. It actually wasn't terrible. It had the taste of beans and a meat he hadn't eaten in…a long time by the feeling of it. The mush had grainy texture from the bean mash, and a string texture from the meat. It could use some salt, but it didn't taste like vomit, which was better than he thought it was going to taste.

Ratchet found the food went down easy, and place the empty bowl on the tray of the Box Robot, who kept repeating: [Greetings Prisoners, Food has arrived].

The food was supposed to be a comfort to Rivet, but instead it made her realize how much better life was on Sargasso. The food on Sargasso, the Lemonade from the Morts, the sunshine on her face… She missed them. This food only reminded her that she would have to give all of them up. Heck, she'd probably be killed for her arm alone, for the sake of "genetic supremacy". So the food was slow to digest, and tasted like regret.

Suddenly, two Lombax Praetorians marched through the airlocked doors, and walked into the cell, grabbing Ratchet by the arms. "Hey, What are you doing?"

Rivet jumped up, "Where are you taking him?" She ran over, and one of the Praetorians pulled out an electrical staff, as if to force her to stand down. Rivet felt her childhood flash, every time she stepped out of line, every time she talked back. Rivet backed down, her ears slumping in submission.

Clank pipped up, "Pardon me, but I would like to know what you are doing with my friend."

The Praetorian with the staff looked at the broken robot, seeming to pause, before turning around without a word, the other one dragging Ratchet along.

Ratchet was taken down a black hallway with a bright pink line glowing along it. The Hallway was long, and Ratchet tried to get his footing, but the Praetorians were moving fast, so he was pretty much dragged to the doorway.

The Praetorian to his right punched in what looked like keys on a keypad, and the door opened to a bright red room, with yellow lines along the walls. At the center was a Grey metal chair and Table. Ratchet was pushed in, and He staggered to his feet, his hands still cuffed.

When he looked up, Ratchet saw… the Judge, standing there, looking at a skull on a stick. The Judge seemed to mutter a hymn or chant before turning around and looking at the Praetorians, "Leave us."

The Praetorians stayed still, while the one that was on Ratchet's left spoke, "We are ordere-"

"If I wanted lip, I would pry that helmet off you and cut yours off. Now bring me a coffee, black." The Judge growled, staring down at the lombaxes.

Ratchet felt small in his presence. Even this guy seemed be muscular and scared all around. He wore shorts and a hood, allowing his scared legs and arms to be on display. His towering presence was… unnerving to say the least.

The Lombax Praetorians remained still for a moment, but the left one finally spoke, "I shall return to my supervisor, and return with your requested item."

The Judge nodded, "Tak." And the two Praetorians left.

It was just them two. Ratchet and this judge who's name he still didn't know. Ratchet smiled, "So… Do you have a name, or are we going straight to the interrogation? "

The Judge whirled around and slammed a knife into the table. It punctured through, earning a yelp out of Ratchet.

The Judge then nodded, like they'd reached an agreement or something.

Ratchet took a deep breath, "Got it, not the talkative type."

The Judge smiled, "No, I just wanted to see how you'd react. You have a fear or death. I can work with that. As for interrogation…" He traced a finger across the neck of the Orange lombax, "If I wanted to I could skin you. A simple cut at the neck-" His finger ran across Ratchet's throat, "-And A pull-" A sudden jerked tore out some fur, "-And I'd have you talking." The Judge held up the three strands of fur.

Ratchet sighed. The doors opened, and the Lombax Praetorian returned with a generic white cup that was filled with black liquid.

The Judge nodded, "Now, leave me."

The Praetorians remained still, before turning around and walking out the door. Ratchet wondered if they even had emotions anymore.

The Judge picked up the mug, smelled it and smiled, before setting it down on the table, "So, what is your name?"

"Ratchet, I think I told you that." Ratchet Explained nervously. Come on, couldn't this guy be a little less uptight.

The Judge took a deep nasal breath, before nodding, "Yes indeed. You are a Lombax, no?" The Judge then picked up the coffee mug, and smelled the insides, before setting it down again.

Ratchet looked down at himself, making sure he hadn't swapped bodies with something, "Yeah, last I checked."

The Judge took another deep nasal breath, nodded, "Do you know what you are being charged with?"

Ratchet was quiet. He didn't fully understand it. He knew the lombaxes thought he had done something, but Ratchet wasn't sure what exactly he was being put on trial for. But he still wanted to play along, and maybe get through it, "Yeah, I think so." Ratchet shyly muttered.

The Judge took a deep nasal breath, before freezing. He seemed to crinkle his nose, as if someone had farted in the room. He Pressed his fingers to his cheeks, and rubbed them, before nodding. He then picked up the coffee mug, and took a drink. "That's good. Alright, Do you think You'll survive?" The judge asked, blinking a couple times before setting the mug down.

Ratchet though for a moment. No… He didn't. He was almost certain they were going to die. The lombaxes seemed so eager to kill them. But admitting guilt would only hurt his chances, "Yeah, We'll make it through this." Ratchet lied.

The Judge took a deep breath, "Alright, that's good. That's very good." He took another drink of coffee, and then poured it out onto the metal table. The steam rose from the black liquid.

"I'll ask you this once. Do you remember anything about the night you supposedly defected?" The Judge growled.

Ratchet shook his head, as it was all a blank, "No."

The judge closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, "Now, fun biology question, do you know what happens when you lie?" The judge took on a more cheerful demeanor, like an entirely different person.

Ratchet struggled to find his voice, "Bad things happen?"

The judge nodded, "Yes, but also the body releases pheromones to help ease the strain on the mind from conflicting views. And I can smell those Pheromones. You lied to me earlier, but I think I have enough to make a decision regarding your involvement in this trial. Let's get back to court."

He pushed open the door behind him, and uncuffed the hand cuffs off Ratchet, before walking outside. Ratchet followed, and Saw that they were in the court room. Ratchet walked over to the defense table.

He didn't appeared to be ruffed up or anything, which was a good sign to Rivet, or so she hoped. This Judge was a different species, with a different culture. For all she knew, he was just making sure they had a good look for their funerals. That was still a happier thought, that they would even get a funeral.

The judge stood up, "I have convened with the Lombax named Ratchet, and have confirmed that he possesses amnesia. Thus, It would be unjust of me to allow him to be called on to testify or be cross examined."

The Prosecution had a look of displeasure on their face, "What?"

"Don't call Ratchet to the stand or I will cut your head off." The judge simplified.

The prosecution groaned, "Shall we continue?"

"You may call any witness to the stand." The judge reclined.

"We call R.. Rivet to the stand." The prosecution demanded.

Rivet smiled down at Clank, "Wish me luck bolts."

Ratchet smiled at her, "Good luck."

"Best of luck to you." Clank uttered.

Rivet sat in the chair next to the judge. The prosecution moved into the center of the room.

"Now, Rivet, since you possess the only account of the events leading up to the alleged desertion. I trust you will remain honest and true for this trial." The prosecutor scowled.

Don't lie, Don't lie, Don't lie Ratchet mentally projected at her. He hoped she got the message.

Rivet nodded, "Yes, I will be honest for the remainder of this trial."

"Good. Now, You were caught in a trap, what happened afterwards." The Prosecutor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rivet swallowed, visibly nervous. They were getting into dangerous territory, "My partner fired a blast into the approaching guard, who Alert the compound to our presence. He then approached me, and disarmed the trap, and assisted my movement to cover. In the process he was injured, and was difficult to move."

Ratchet gulped. For some reason, his side itched.

"And how did you react." The prosecution seemed to tower over her, looking for meat to tear apart. They wanted Ratchet and Rivet dead.

Rivet took a deep breath, Glaring at the Prosecutor, "Protocol said I should have left him, like he should have left me."

The judge steeped in this time, "Did you? Did abandon the Brother who had saved your life?"

"I was supposed to… But couldn't. It felt wrong, and I couldn't walk away." Rivet slumped, "So I went back for him, and we went to the extraction zone. We encountered patrols along the way, so we hid the best we could, but we were still spotted while moving." Rivet rubbed her robotic arm. If that had gone differently, they wouldn't be in this situation… would they?

Ratchet wanted to give her a hug. She was getting so many messages and signals. She looked miserable.

The Prosecutor nodded, "What happened next? Did you feel a desire to defect, or desert at the sight of a wounded ally?"

"Of course not, but I couldn't leave him there. He had saved my life, and our lives were tied together. If he died, I died. So I committed what would be considered treason. I attacked my officer, and did everything I could to save him, and that meant we would be lost to void of space-time." Rivet smiled, somewhat bitter from the whole trial. She was ready to face her fate.