Kaden was jostled awake as their ship landed, and was momentarily confused before the ship spoke.
"We have arrived at your destination." It announced indifferently.
Kaden rubbed his eyes with a small groan, with Kieran peacefully sleeping in his arms, swaddled up in his blanket. He tried not to fall asleep on the way here, but he must have been too exhausted by… well, everything.
Kaden looked up and out the window, seeing a large but slightly worn building a few yards away from them. He could see rough patchwork that's kept it standing for however long it's been there, from scrap metal on the roof to slightly-mismatched paint chipping away at the walls. It was the middle of the night, but he could read the weathered sign that was plastered above the door: 'Ms. Perigee's Home for Lost Children'.
Kaden took a deep, shaky breath. This was it.
He opened the cockpit and stepped out into the warm night. A stray breeze blew past him, and a tumbleweed rolled across the road before disappearing into the darkness once more, a small dust cloud following it. Veldin seemed a lot drier than the logs made it out to be.
He turns around and reaches into the ship to produce a small basket that he found in a shop's broken window back on Fastoon. He holds it with one hand while he uses his other arm to carry his son. With a heavy heart, he turns around, facing his son's new home.
It was very quiet out. Which was to be expected at such a late hour in such a relatively rural civilization, but it unnerved Kaden nonetheless. He wished there was something, anything, to distract his mind from what he's doing now, but he was offered no such respite.
All he could do was focus on the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the dirt road, hearing the particles of sand and dirt crunching and grinding against each other underneath his boots. His breathing was a little louder than usual, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill out, making the back of his throat burn. It was almost funny how it was opposite to Kieran's, whose breathing was light, almost inaudible, even in the silence. Kaden would've thought him dead if he didn't feel his chest rising as he carried him.
He reaches the plain metal door of the orphanage. At first, he does nothing, only staring blankly at it as he desperately tries to find another solution. But he knew it was pointless. If there was a better way, he would've figured it out during the painfully long ride here. This was the only way he could guarantee Kieran's safety.
He takes a deep breath and sets the basket down onto the concrete doorstep. He looks down at Kieran before gently placing him into the basket, crouching down to stir him as little as possible.
As he rests in the basket, Kaden makes no effort to stand back up, still gazing at him. He feels warm tears begin to fall down his cheeks, but he still holds back the cries that are trying to escape his throat. He only half-succeeds, as his breath starts to hitch and get shaky.
He was thankful that Kieran was asleep. It'll make this easier, knowing he won't have those innocent, curious eyes watch him walk away for the last time, not understanding what was happening, nor would he ever.
On the way here, he was about to write a note, a letter for his son, so that he could understand why his life had to be the way it was. But as he began, he realized that it was pointless. He didn't know how to write in another language, only Lombax, which Kieran wouldn't be able to understand. And even if he did leave the note, Kieran would no doubt try to decipher it, bringing unwanted attention to himself, and, worst-case scenario, he goes to Fastoon for answers, where Tachyon is likely setting up shop.
Kaden sighs and sits down onto the doorstep next to the basket, looking at the ground between his feet.
"I'm… I'm sorry it had to be this way, Kieran." Kaden speaks softly, shoving down the sobs in the back of his throat. "But thanks to your Uncle Alister, you'll have to grow up without a mommy or daddy. I wish I could tell you why, but I can't. Not in a way you'll remember, anyway. You're probably not even hearing me right now, since you're sleeping."
He looks back over to Kieran, and confirms it, seeing him undisturbed by his rambling. He returns his gaze back out to the view in front of him. This orphanage was a little ways from the nearest city, but not far enough that Kaden couldn't see the hazy fog of the lights shining from it from the distance, among all the plateaus and buttes of the desert landscape in front of him. Even from here, though, he could see it was relatively small.
"I hope you don't mind Veldin. I figured that it has so little going for it, that it wouldn't even pop up on Tachyon's radar for places to look. I hear smaller civilizations like this have nice people, though. A real sense of community that you don't get on bigger planets. That'll be nice, huh?"
Kieran doesn't respond, and Kaden gives a dry chuckle. "I must look crazy right now, huh, Kieran? Having a conversation with a sleeping baby in the middle of the night on someone's doorstep. I wonder what Marie would say about that."
He sighs as he thinks about her for the hundredth time since yesterday, when he found her pinned under all that rubble. There was one thing that always stuck to his mind like a tick when he recalled that painful memory. It was the way she looked at him when he entered the room. He could see in her eyes the happiness and relief of seeing her husband alive… but also the look of death.
It was a look he was unfortunately familiar with. Making it to be a General means you see a lot of death firsthand, mostly from your enemies, but your allies were no exception. It was a tough lesson to learn, that from the wide-eyed rookies out to save the universe, to the hardened veterans simply going through the motions, no one's life was guaranteed. It was even tougher if they were unlucky enough to initially survive a mortal wound.
Too often did Kaden try to heal someone in the midst of battle, patching up bullet holes and missing limbs as best he could, but then glance at their face and see that look in their eyes. That look that told him his attempts to save their life were futile. That look that was filled with a macabre assortment of anguish, sadness, fear, and acceptance. That look that they knew they were going to die.
To see that look in his own wife's eyes was devastating. Someone who wasn't a trained soldier, someone who hasn't even held a gun, someone who did nothing wrong.
But did she moan and cry, begging for her life like so many others he's seen?
No. She put on a smile, even through the pain. She was happy. Happy that her son was alive, and able to escape this apocalypse. Even to the end, she was a mother, and the strongest damn woman that Kaden ever knew.
He swallows down the lump in his throat. "I just want you to understand that this is so I can protect you, like she wanted. I know you'll be alone… but it's the best way to ensure your safety. If there was any possible way to let you grow up safely with another Lombax at least, I would take it in a heartbeat."
Kaden glances back to Kieran, almost knowing what he would say if he could talk. "But, no, I'm not leaving you with Alister. He might be stuck here with you and me, but he's the reason all of this happened." He clenches his fist. "He's the reason I'm sitting here right now, about to abandon my own child while your mother's lying dead in our destroyed home, on our destroyed world, covered with even more dead Lombaxes, and now, taken over by a genocidal Cragmite! All of this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for him, and I tried to stop him! But did he listen to me? No, he didn't! I swear, if I see him again, I'll rip off his tail and shove it right up—"
He stops himself as he suddenly realizes how loudly he is speaking, and worriedly looks back over to his son. Seeing that he hasn't woken up, thankfully, he takes a few deep breaths to recollect himself, to try and ease back the anger within him. Now was not the time to blow up. He was unbelievably furious about the situation, but it would be wiser to save it for his battle with Tachyon. It was him that caused all of this, after all.
But as he rests on that last thought, a cold chill runs down his spine.
Kaden was a General of the Praetorian Guard. He won the Agorian Gold tournament when he was only sixteen. He could probably count on his hands the number of times he went on an adventure that didn't involve some kind of life-threatening battle.
But even with all his combat experience, he knew he was going to die in his fight with Tachyon. Never had their people encountered such a fierce enemy like him, not since the Great War. If he was so strong that not even the entirety of their military could stop him, then what chance did he, a single Lombax, have? There was a reason the only option was to abandon this reality, after all, but he didn't have that luxury. If he was going to uphold his duty as Keeper of the Dimensionator to protect his species, then he was going to have to face him off. Alone.
No allies. No support. No running away.
Just the Wrench in his hands, and the anguish and suffering of his people to drive him to his very last breath.
He looks up to the sky, tired of the view of the distant city. He instead becomes enamored with the stars shining brilliantly down onto them, and decides that the view is better than it is on the surface of Fastoon. Makes sense, since this planet has far too few people for light pollution to be a problem.
But as he gazes at them, he thinks about how these are going to be the same stars that his son would grow up staring at, too, like he's doing right now. Although, he knew that Kieran would look at them not for their beauty, but for their answers. Answers about where he came from, and why he isn't there.
Kaden wonders which distant light was the Polaris Galaxy, if it was even visible from here. Not that it mattered, really, because Kieran wouldn't know which planet he came from, or even what galaxy. So even if it was up there, it'd just be another dot among the trillions more in the sky.
Another round of tears begins to blur his vision, distorting the sparkling bright points into white smears.
"When Marie first said she was pregnant, I was honestly scared, at first." Kaden says, letting them fall freely as he continues to stare into space. "I had no idea what to expect from being a dad. You always hear people say it's the greatest feeling ever, but at the time, I couldn't get what they were saying. Now, I have to essentially put my life on hold because this tiny creature depends on me? I can't go on missions willy-nilly or else I might orphan a kid? And I have to raise him and teach him all about life, when I'm really just trying to figure it out myself? What if I mess up, and he dies, or becomes a serial killer, or just a disgrace to society? Just who the hell would look at all that responsibility and uncertainty, and say it's the best thing ever?"
He looks down, and his vision clears a little as the tears in his eyes fall onto the ground, giving the dirt the most moisture they've seen in years.
"I warmed up to the idea more during the pregnancy, though. Picking out clothes, setting up the nursery, talking about what your name might be when the day comes for your ceremony. It made it a little more real, more grounded, helped me accept this was really happening. But even then, I couldn't shake that fear in the back of my mind. Whenever I looked at her stomach, I… I honestly couldn't help but see a burden."
He sighs. "I know if I told anyone that, they'd think I was a horrible father. And maybe I was, back then, with how selfishly I thought that a baby would ruin my life. But I didn't say anything, because I saw how happy Marie was about becoming a mother. And if she was happy, then I would be, too, for her sake, if nothing else."
He looks back over to Kieran, still sleeping away, none the wiser to their conversation, with his mouth slightly agape as he breathes. Kaden grins.
"But then you were born. And the moment I saw your face for the first time… those feelings just evaporated. I wasn't scared anymore. I was happy. Hopeful, even. Ecstatic, overjoyed, enthusiastic, just everything! And when you smiled at me and your mother when we held you in our arms, I understood what people meant when they say being a parent is the greatest thing in the world. All of a sudden, I didn't dread about the responsibilities that went along with it anymore. I welcomed them gladly. It's like my life was given a new meaning, and it was something bigger than being a General, or a Councilman for the Center. I swore right then that I would do anything in the universe to protect you and that smile on your face."
He scoots over to Kieran, and leans over the basket to look at his son, with even more tears falling from his face as he smiles happily, landing on his blanket, leaving small dark spots in the soft fabric.
"That's why I'm doing this, Kieran, because that includes making sacrifices. And if the price to make sure you grow up happy and safe is to leave you in another galaxy where I'll never see you again, then so be it. If giving you a chance to experience life with all its wonders and horrors means I'll have to fly to my death to fight Tachyon, then I'll do it. A hundred times over, in fact. I'll even tie my hands behind my back if I have to."
Kaden gently scoops his arms underneath his son and picks him up from the basket to hug him for one last time.
"I'll do it, because I love you, Kieran. I love you with every fiber of my being. I wish we could've spent more time together, but I guess the universe has other plans for us. I know what's in store for me, but I can only guess what's waiting for you."
He removes Kieran from his chest, and looks into his sleeping face. "But I just want you to promise me that you'll make sure it's something great. I want you to spend your life having good times, for both our sakes. Have adventures, make friends, fall in love, all of it. There are going to be bumps in the way, there's no question about it. But if your Marie's son, then I know you have the strength to pull through anything life throws at you. Cherish everyone you hold dear to your heart, and live everyday like it's your last, because if there's anything I've learned in these last few days, it's that everything can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. I hope that won't ever happen to you, but if it does, make sure you have plenty of memories to keep you going. You hear me, Kieran?"
Despite being in his sleep, he utters a small coo, stirring a little bit in his arms. Kaden smiles.
"Good."
He bends his head down, and gives Kieran one last kiss before he finally sets him down once more in the basket. He brushes his cheek with the back of his hand, still grinning despite the steady flow of tears running down his face.
"I love you, Kieran. Just know that me and your mother will be waiting for you in whatever life comes after this one. Until then, though, just make us proud, son." He takes a deep, shaky breath. "Goodbye."
He removes his hand from his cheek, and instead uses it to cover his mouth to stifle the sobs about to break out. He stands up and uses his other hand to mash the button next to the door of the orphanage, hearing a muffled ringing from inside. He quickly turns away and walks back to his ship, forcing himself to not look back at his son. He wanted that image of him brushing his sleeping face to be his last memory of him, and not as a small dot as he flies away.
He enters the cockpit, and skips all of the preflight checks and procedures, ignoring the AI's advice. He doesn't even input Fastoon's coordinates, opting instead to immediately take off into the sky above. His priority was to just get off this planet as soon as possible, or else he might change his mind.
As the ship takes off, he watches the soft blue undertone of the Veldin atmosphere disappear into the complete, inky blackness of space through the cloud of tears nearly blocking his vision. In any other circumstance, he would've appreciated the beauty. It was a sight he never got tired of, despite all of his years of flying.
But as he looks back to see the giant brown sphere in front of him, he breaks out into a sob, no longer holding back the feelings that were building ever since he landed. He was able to steer the ship somewhat okay at first, but he eventually broke down to a point where all he could do was sit and hold his head in his hands as he wailed in sorrow, letting it drift in the endless abyss of space.
Ms. Perigee was sitting in bed, reading a light romance novel, a guilty pleasure she seldom partook in as she was often too busy with the children to find any meaningful time for herself. She felt a little guilty that she was reading at such a late hour, knowing it will only make her day tomorrow harder from lack of sleep, but what the heck! She deserved this after dealing with that stunt Molly pulled earlier, starting a food fight in the cafeteria. Just the laundry alone was a nightmare!
As she turns the page, she hears the doorbell of the office downstairs begin to ring. Several times, in fact. She huffed as she placed a bookmark and set it down onto the nightstand next to her. Why are people so impatient these days? Back in her day, a single ring was enough to get someone's attention.
She stood up from her bed, groaning slightly from the old bones in her body. She made her way out of her room, down the hall, and down the stairs into the office. She was thankful whoever was there stopped ringing, at least, she was worried that it was going to wake up the children.
She glances down the hall to the rest of the building, and breathes a small sigh of relief as she doesn't hear any stirring, only the usual snores of the kids. Trying to get them to fall back asleep was almost as bad as dealing with the aftermath of a food fight.
She shuffles over to the door, and flips the switch next to her to turn on the exterior light before she opens the door. When she does, she is surprised to find no one standing there. Confused, she leans out and looks around, finding no one, and sighs.
"Darn kids and their pranks. I swear, if I—" She stops as she glances down, and sees a baby lying at her feet, sleeping soundly in a basket.
She gasps, and bends down to take the child in her arms, ignoring the flaring of her old joints. She internally smacked herself on the head for assuming there was going to be someone at the door at this hour. This was an orphanage, for crying out loud! Nearly a quarter of these kids ended up here the exact same way!
Although, this child was different. He had fur, for one, so he obviously wasn't a Veldinite child. A Cazar, perhaps? But that doesn't explain the large ears he had. They were almost the size of his head! Just what kind of species was he?
She looks back down into the basket, but doesn't see a note. She looks around some more, and doesn't see anything else. Well, except for the large spot where a ship was clearly parked not too long ago, with all of the dust kicked up around it.
She frowned. It wasn't unusual for unwilling parents to not leave notes, but this was one time she sorely needed one. How was she supposed to take care of a child if she didn't even know what species he was?
She sighed. She'll get Dr. Morris to come over sometime in the next couple days to help her figure out what he is. In the meantime, though, she guessed she would take of the child as if he was a Cazar. It was the closest thing she could think of.
She uses her foot to scoot the basket inside the office, not wanting to bend down again, and quietly shuts the door before turning off the outside light. She then turned and walked down the hall into the rest of the orphanage, towards the nursery.
"Time to find you a place to rest, dear." She mutters to him.
As she walks down the hall, glancing through the windows of the passing doors to check on the rest of the children, she feels the baby stir in her arms, and she looks down to see him yawn before opening him eyes, finding them to be a beautiful green.
"M… mama?" it utters sleepily.
"I'm afraid I'm not your mama, little one." She smiles softly. "But I guess I am now. Welcome to your new home."
Some like to incorporate the movie's character of Grim as the one who raised Ratchet. But I like the idea of him being raised in an orphanage more.
Ratchet in the first game is shown to be, quite frankly, an asshole. I think that kind of personality makes sense if it's from an upbringing of growing up different and alone in an orphanage, because as we all know, children can be evil little bastards when it comes to people being different. And growing up in an environment like that means you gotta get tough.