A/N: Yeah, so apparently this little universe has devoured my soul. But at least I actually know what I'm doing this time around! *waves 8k word document of ideas in the air* I'm pretty sure the only thought I had about Quantum while writing the last one was that he'd probs make a better President than Qwark did. But after weeks of thinking about how to get where I want to go with this series, I've decided I rather like him a lot. Enough that I scooped out any vague mentions of Pierre's Culinary Adventures, which I had absolutely zilch ideas for anyways, and filled them with Quantum instead. It's much better this way, I think.

In any case, this is a continuation of The Captain Goes Down With the Ship. I'd recommend reading that one first if you haven't already, but honestly, you'll probably just be a little confused but mostly okay if you decided not to. You'll just lose out on (what I thought was) a sweet little scene where Rivet says a Nice Thing. But even that's kind of referenced, so. Either way.

.

.

Zurkie's is a lot emptier than usual.

Likely, in part, due to a large chunk of it's usual patrons being banned after her and Pierre's stunt a week and a half past. After a handful of royally ticked pirates had tried to do in their ex-first mate upon returning to the pub, and Zurkie had proven to everyone present that there was indeed a reason no one dared violate his violence free mandate (much to Junior's thrilled and colorful commentary), it had just been easier to say no pirates at all were allowed for the two week suspension period. It's a testament to how strongly he feels about the subject that he would willingly alienate such a large and no doubt highly profitable portion of his customer base for disregarding it.

Rivet doesn't think she's ever respected him more.

And not just because it was one of the more terrifying events she'd ever born witness to in her life.

She scans the bar but only finds Zurkie tossing a shaker in front of a cozy looking couple. She catches his eye, raises a hand in greeting, and he bows his head slightly before giving it a small jerk towards the dining area. Following the gesture, it doesn't take her long to find what she's looking for, and with another wave to show her thanks, Rivet squeezes her way through the admittedly still quite sizable crowd. The wall beyond the windows overlooking the battleplex is decorated with an array of holo-vids featuring programming unrelated to the arena, and sitting there, idly watching, with his jaw resting on the heel of one hand while the other clicks against the side of a half-filled glass, is Pierre.

She sidles up to him from his blind side and says, "Well, well, well. Looks like someone's slacking on the job."

His fingers halt their tapping, and he tilts his head slowly toward her. He blinks, takes an unsteady moment to focus his good eye, and she realizes in amusement that he's probably not in much better a state than when she'd last left him here, slung out unconscious over one of the booths after a bit too much post-victory celebrating.

"Ah, Rivet!" He brightens instantly, swinging an arm out to offer her the chair next to him but misjudging his aim and knocking it over instead. He frowns down at it as though it's payed him grievous offense, and rolling her eyes, Rivet props it back up herself. She takes a seat and flicks her metal finger against his glass with a light ting.

"Maybe you should slow down there, sailor."

With a haughty sniff he tugs his drink protectively towards him. "Do not judge me," he tells her, and at least this time around he isn't so far gone that his words have been rendered entirely incomprehensible. "It's my day off, and I shall spend it however I please!" He leans in then, head resting on his hand once more. With a sly look he adds, "Although, had I known you were finished being shy and would be coming to pay me a visit, I may have chosen elsewise."

Rivet pulls away until she's settled against the backrest of her seat and shakes her head. "I'm really going to regret being nice to you, aren't I?"

Pierre wags a chiding finger in her direction before moving in even closer. "Give me a centicubit—" he holds his finger and thumb a hair's breadth apart then throws his arm out wide with a gleeful laugh "—and I will take an entire light year!"

"Oh, trust me. I've noticed."

He straightens and chuckles down into his glass. "Yes. Well. I do hope not to lose your most esteemed opinion of me, however misguided it might be." Then, noticing the empty table, "Have you ordered yet? Will you have your usual?" But before she can respond, he's already turned toward the main dining area, hailing one of the other servers with a raised arm. "And as for—" He pauses. Looks around. Fails to find what he's searching for. "Where is your wee amie?"

Rivet crosses her arms over the table and rests her chin on them, looking up at what the line of holo-vids has to offer in way of entertainment. "Savali. She's really been missing the monks, so I dropped her off a few days ago. And yeah. Just the usual's fine."

He makes several motions over her head with his outstretched arm and then pushes his drink aside with a long suffering sigh. "I can only imagine I make for a poor substitute in her absence, but nevertheless, I shall try my best. For I am Pierre Le Fer, backup buddy extraordinaire!"

The corner of her mouth lilts upward despite herself, but she keeps her eyes on the screens. "Backup buddy, huh?"

"Eh, why not? It's not like I have anything better to do right now."

"Nice. You really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you, Pierre?"

"What can I say? You come in here and seek me out because you are feeling lonely. You are fortunate I am able to pencil you into my, uh, hectic schedule."

Though his voice is playful as ever, his words give her pause. She hadn't thought that was the reason she'd come here at all. But looking back on it, at all those quiet deliveries and the hours upon hours of silent travel over the last several days, she's not proud to discover that he may actually be onto something.

"Yeah, real hectic," she says, brushing the thought away. "So I guess the ban's almost over, huh?"

He deflates, slumping pathetically over the back of his chair, and groans. "Oh, please do not remind me. This brief respite is the only thing getting me through these days. I used to love it here, you know. But once the pirates find their next great distraction and I am finally free of it, I do not think I will be visiting this place again. And I would thank you for not telling Zurkie as much. I do appreciate his generosity in allowing me to stay here after all."

Rivet finally lifts her head and looks away from the hv. She takes in the bored expression on his face as he watches the crowd around them. It hadn't even occurred to her as an option before, but now that it has it's obvious.

"You haven't left," she says, awed, because of course he hasn't. And really, what had she thought? That the pirates were just going to not follow him if he walked out of here? Even so. Pierre actually just living here? At Zurkie's? It's not that much less ridiculous a notion in her mind.

His eye drifts lazily to her face and regards her for a moment before returning to the dining area. He gestures toward the entrance. "I walked through that door five, maybe six, weeks ago, after finally realizing there was no corner of the galaxy where they would not follow me. It has not been the life of revelry and poor decision making I had in mind when it first became apparent I could no longer stay on Ardolis."

"You've been in here for six weeks?"

He hums in response, still gazing listlessly at nothing in particular. "They think they can outlast me, but I can play the waiting game too. It also does not help their cause that they were so open about me no longer have a ship to escape in. Stolen, destroyed, I do not know." He looks thoughtful. "Though I suspect they were trying to be funny." Pierre blinks then, and the change in his demeanor is instantaneous.

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with, however," he assures her, his words no longer tinged with melancholy, and he takes up his forgotten drink with a jovial raise of his hand. "It will not last forever. You'll see. Eventually they will have much bigger fish to fry than hounding me here, but right now, without the Captain to guide them, they are running adrift. He was very well loved by the crew, you know, and it will take some time yet for them to move on from his passing."

He lifts the mug to his mouth, and Rivet blurts out, "What about you?" before she can stop herself. His hand slips, sloshing the pungent liquid down his front, and she wishes she could snatch the words out of the air and cram them all back where they came from. "Sorry! That wasn't very—I shouldn't have…" She trails off, tearing a fistful of napkins from the dispenser and blotting at the mess over his torso.

Sure. Maybe they've known one another, having worked with as well as against the other, for years. And maybe she'd finally decided to call him a friend and really did want to help him out of his current predicament. And, yeah, maybe he'd even picked up on her loneliness before she had. But that doesn't mean they're at a place where she can just ask something so personal like that out of the blue. The Morts would be aghast.

"It's fine," he says, and he pries the wad of napkins from her fingers to finish the job himself. He frowns as he does so, whether due to her question or the mess she's just made, she can't tell. It feels like forever but can't have been more than a few seconds when he sighs.

"The Captain…he was a very good friend to me for many years, and I shall miss his company greatly. I cannot change what has happened, however, and have been a bit busy with trying not to follow immediately in his footsteps. So no. I see no point in dwelling on it the way the rest of the crew has."

She doesn't get the impression that means he never dwells on it, though. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Chews on the inside of her cheek. She could tell Pierre the truth. But she's kept the secret for so long by now, however bitterly at times, that revealing it would still feel like the utmost betrayal on her part. So instead she nudges her elbow lightly into his own and says again, much softer this time, "Sorry. About Qua—I mean, the Captain."

He tosses the soggy napkins aside and reaches for more. "Yes, it is too bad he missed it," he says. "From the time he was first appointed Captain, it was always his wish for us to work alongside the Resistance. But the crew would never have approved of any alliances. He would have been proud, though, I think, to see them joining forces against the Emperor. No matter how short-lived it was."

"I…huh…"

She ducks her head and scrapes a fingernail against a chip in the table's surface. Well that's…something.

Her order arrives at last, and Pierre gets another drink to replace the one he ended up wearing. He's been keeping up with the news over the course of his confinement here, apparently, because he asks her about the recovery efforts she's been volunteering in. It's different, sitting here and chatting like this rather than taking part in their customary haggling or arguing or smack talking, but it's oddly refreshing too.

"That man," Pierre says abruptly, looking utterly perplexed and startling her out of the story she'd been telling, "on the screen. He helped us against the Emperor. He is a friend of yours, no?"

Rivet turns to look, and it's with a sinking feeling that she recognizes one of Quantum's campaign ads. She hesitates, buying time to think up an answer by taking a bite of one of her fried snacks and chewing it slowly. Eventually she swallows and says, "If you can still call someone you haven't seen or spoken to in about eight years a friend, then sure." She tears her eyes from the screen and watches the fascination and confusion crossing over his face as the ad plays out overhead. "Why?"

He continues to stare up at it. "I just cannot get over it is all," he says, sounding almost frustrated. "How familiar he seems. It's right there, at the tip of my tongue! But…" He lets out a huff and lounges back, elbow coming to a rest on the back of his chair. "Alas, I do not know. I did enjoy speaking with him back then, though. His plans were all quite terrible. That, however, was familiar in a way I do recognize." And he smiles, swirling his drink in slow circles on the table while looking lost in some unshared memory.

He's so close to figuring it out, and he doesn't even know it, leaving Rivet torn between helping push the idea along or reigning it back. Unable to decide, she takes another bite of her meal.

"So what was it that happened then? To cause you two not to speak for so long?" Pierre gestures toward the hv.

She considers dodging the question, but after her gaffe earlier, which he'd handled far better than he had any right to, it doesn't seem fair. So, slowly, she says, "He was part of the Resistance, back when I first joined. We were never super close or anything, but we worked together sometimes. And then one day he up and left. He wanted to go—" she cuts herself off, waving a hand in the air as she searches for words that won't give him away. Lamely, she settles with "—do…something else. More fun. There were a lot of hard feelings after that, and we just never really…"

She shrugs. It sounds ridiculous and petty without the context of what exactly he left them for, but given who she's talking to, it probably doesn't matter all that much anyways.

Pierre hums his acknowledgment. "I can understand why he left. It was quite a thankless job at times, was it not? A life like that is not for everyone. But if you do not mind me saying so, the last time you were here, after recounting to me all of my least desirable qualities…" The look he gives her is unimpressed, and she responds with a sheepish shrug. "You absolved me of these things because I was there helping you when it mattered most. But I was not the only one. Perhaps you will be able to extend to him the same courtesy as you did me."

"I—" Rivet doesn't even know what to say, though.

She'd never met Captain Quantum and, until their final assault on the Emperor, hadn't had any contact with him since he'd run out on the Resistance. Every shred of information he'd shared over the years had come to them by way of Pierre, an obvious attempt at a peace offering after his hasty and poorly received departure. But even now, with the Emperor gone and the Resistance practically dissolved and Quantum running for office, Rivet has staunchly avoided putting herself in a position where she might speak to him.

Maybe she finally needs to get over herself enough to change that.

Like Pierre had said earlier: what's happened has happened, and she can't change that. And if she's honest with herself, as much as she hates to admit it, without the help they'd received after Quantum became Captain, the Resistance may well have been crushed into oblivion years ago. So it hasn't all been bad.

"Carl Quantum."

He says the name like he's testing it out for the first time. Rivet jolts, heart leaping its way into her throat, and turns to him. The ad is long over, but Pierre continues to frown thoughtfully up at the holo-vid anyways. He drops his head back into his hand and sounds completely genuine when he asks, "Do you suppose he might be a relation of the Captain's?"

Her pulse returns to normal with a mixture of relief and guilt, and it's all she can do to answer his question with a weak, "Heh. Maybe. You never know."

The remainder of her appetizers and two lemonades later, their conversation lulls away into a comfortable silence. She's only half paying attention to a rerun of the sitcom she and Kit have accidentally become addicted to when she finds herself unable to stifle a long yawn.

"Yes, it's getting quite late, is it not? Do not feel like you need to stay for my sake."

She sighs and reluctantly gets to her feet, looking around for a waiter to flag down for her bill. "Yeah, I've still got some things I need to take care of when I get home." Pierre waves her off with a flap of his hand.

"Do not worry about it. It has been taken care of already."

"What? Again?"

"Yes," he says, sounding pleased with himself. "I thought it might agitate you. Also, the more of my paycheck that goes back into Zurkie's, the more likely he is to tolerate my prolonged presence here. He runs a very tight ship here, and it was no small feat to convince him to take me on."

She opens her mouth to argue, but he tilts his drink slightly in her direction and says, "À bientôt, Rivet. I shall be looking forward to your next visit."

She frowns at him but ultimately decides to let it go. If he thinks he needs to bribe her for her to come back then fine. That's on him. She offers him an awkward thanks along with her own goodbye. At the exit she pauses, resting a hand on the doorway, and turns back. From this angle, through the crowd and the barriers and the tables, Rivet's just barely able to see him. He looks exactly as he did when she'd first spotted him a couple hours ago: bored and alone. Then, with that thought bearing down on her, she retrieves her glove from the bot at the front desk and makes her way to her ship.

.

.

When Rivet had been young, she'd loved stories. Lucky for her, not only were the Morts chock-full of them, but they had equally loved to indulge her. But the one that always stuck out to her the most—her absolute favorite and the one she'd shared with Bolts all those months ago despite feeling foolish about it now that she wasn't a child any longer—was the story of The Fixer.

She'd been completely taken with this mystical being who could fix anything brought before him, no matter how irreparably shattered or mangled it might seem. Kind in nature and ever generous with his gift, he never turned away anyone in need of his abilities. No request was ever deemed too large or too small to be worth his time and effort. And from the moment she'd first been regaled with his tale, Rivet had sought to become just like him.

(So yeah. While six-year-old Rivet wouldn't have given two jots about The Fixer turning out to be a fifty-story tall robot and probably would have thought it was pretty freaking awesome, thirty-year-old Rivet had been understandably more taken aback and disappointed by the discovery.)

In the beginning this had involved her bouncing around the house of whichever family was watching over her at the time and "fixing" everything in sight with a tap of her magic screw driver. They'd thank her in exaggerated voices and pinch her cheeks or treat her to a fresh lemonade before sending her on her way to help out the next poor Mort with a broken something-or-other in dire need of some mending.

When she was a little older the Morts taught her how to fix things for real, and to her delight, she discovered she actually had a knack for it.

Some time after that, Nefarious rolled into town and dubbed himself Emperor, so to fix that she joined the Resistance. When she ended up losing her arm to the cause, she'd fixed that too.

She's never really been able to help herself.

.

.

Rivet bites down on the nail of her thumb and tries to keep her calm as she stares at the colorful assortment of fish in the aquarium across from her. It's taken her days to finally talk herself into coming here, and she's not a hundred percent sure what she thinks she's going to be able to achieve in doing so. But she has to at least try.

Plus, she'd been thinking a lot about the whole making amends thing, so why not try killing two birds with one stone while she's at it?

Anyways, it should be simple, right? If she can so easily absolve Pierre—who has both actively and gleefully been a thorn in her side since the moment they'd met—of his flaws, then surely she can do the same for someone she'd once worked alongside and trusted to watch her back.

Pierre'd never really been anything other than what she'd expected him to be, though, so no matter how many times he's run her around in circles for his own amusement or loopholed his way out of something he didn't want to do, she's never truly felt betrayed by him. It was all part and parcel of being forced to do business with pirates. She'd just grit her teeth and rant to Trudi and resolve to do a better job the next time she dealt with him, because of course she knew she would have to. And that would be that.

It's not quite the same thing with—

"Mr. Quantum will see you now, Miss."

Rivet startles from her thoughts and jumps to her feet. Her stomach jostles around as if it had forgotten to follow suit.

"Oh, hi! Um. Thanks. Just…right through there then?"

The receptionist gives Rivet a piercing look from behind her desk, and Rivet laughs nervously. She inches her way toward the door in the corner of the room.

"Right. Yeah. I'll just…"

Apprehensive, she turns to face Quantum's office. Well. She's already made it this far. And after all the significantly crazier things she's done in her life, it would be silly to let this be the thing to finally deter her. Besides, she's not just doing this for herself. That's the mantra that had gotten her through the most dangerous and seemingly hopeless missions she'd embarked on over the last decade, and it's the thing that finally propels her forward now.

She steps inside, letting the door click shut behind her, and there he is, sitting behind a large desk at the other end of the room. He looks up and leaps to his feet at once, a wide grin breaking out over his face. In that big, friendly, excited voice of his he says, "Rivet! How are you? It's been too long!"

The knots twisting around inside her begin to loosen. Rivet had almost forgotten about his ability to do that. To put people at ease with his natural good-naturedness. It had really done wonders for morale back in those early days of the Emperor's reign. Well. At least until…

The smile she'd managed to conjure slips, and she's only just able to catch it and hike it back up before it slides out of reach entirely.

"Hey…Carl…" she greets in return, but despite her best efforts, it sounds as stilted as it feels. She folds her right arm over her chest, gripping the wrist with her other hand, and begins to think this maybe wasn't the best idea after all.

Last time they'd spoken had been easier. She'd been caught completely off guard to see him standing there at Zurkie's sans his robot getup, and at the time, in the heat of the moment, with Nefarious sneering down at them all from every angle and Rivet still reeling from Kit's revelation and Ratchet looking on lost and horrified, it hadn't seemed quite so important that once upon a time Quantum had left them high and dry for a life of fun and adventure. There'd been a job to do and he was doing it with them and afterward she'd been running off the high of a victory so long overdue that she'd sat down with him and listened to the tale of his sudden and untimely demise as Captain.

Eventually that high had faded, buried beneath the mass of unrelenting issues that hadn't had the courtesy of dying along with the Emperor, and something about Quantum's sudden reappearance, sitting in the spotlight as a presidential candidate, while what was left of the former Resistance toiled away with dispensing relief to those in need of it had rubbed her the wrong way.

But whatever her feelings on the matter, she's not just here for herself. So she swallows down all the pent up resentment threatening to bubble up and spew its way out of her and says instead, "Oh, you know. Just trying to stay busy." She sweeps a hand around at the election paraphernalia decorating the room. "I've been keeping up with your campaign though. That's been pretty surprising."

"I know, right? I didn't expect it to take off this well at all!" He perches himself on the edge of his desk and takes a moment to look bewildered. "It's turned out to be a lot more work than I first envisioned, but I'm hoping it'll all be worth it in the end."

Rivet presses her lips together and offers a brief hum in response.

"You know, things have been so hectic lately, I feel like I'm kinda out of the loop with what's actually going on out there right now."

She quirks a brow at him. "That doesn't sound like something someone running for President should say."

"I agree."

He looks her over thoughtfully for a moment. When he opens his mouth again, he seems tentative about bringing up whatever it is that's on his mind.

"So," he says at last. "I don't suppose you still see Pierre around at all anymore, do you?"

That catches Rivet's attention, and he notices, his voice becoming more sure and excitable as he goes on.

"It's just that, you know. I've barely heard anything about the crew at all since the whole Emperor thing, and I definitely haven't seen them. I know Pierre probably has his hands full taking over for me. He never really was all that interested in becoming Captain—too much paperwork, he always said—but if the way he led them against the Emperor is anything to go by, I'm sure he's taking to it just fine!"

Quantum beams down at her expectantly, and she blinks a few times as she gathers herself up enough to deliver the bad news.

"It's funny that you mention him. Pierre's actually the reason I stopped by."

"Oh?" he says, sounding surprised.

.

.

"Oh," he says, sounding less surprised and more something in the realm of fondly exasperated. "An execution, you say? Already?"

What the heck was that even supposed to mean, already? "Yeah."

"Do you know what for?"

"Does scuttling a ship in Molonoth ring a bell for you?"

Quantum's expression turns dubious. "Yes," he replies slowly. "I know all about that. But that was back while I was still Captain. And I pardoned him for it."

"Well, from what I've gathered, the crew must not have been too happy about that. They were going to get rid of him and tell you the Resistance did it. But Ratchet and Clank stopped them when they were on their way to find you."

"That's…not…" He flounders about as he struggles to absorb her words. He frowns. "And they're still after him now? It doesn't make any sense though. They've never been this persistent before. They followed him to fight the Emperor!"

"Oh, yeah. Apparently they're mad about that too. Something about losing too much and how they never should have been in the fight in the first place." She pauses before adding, "And what do you mean by before?"

With an exhausted sigh, Quantum pushes himself off his desk and begins to pace, hands clasped behind his back. "It…happens from time to time." He stops suddenly and looks at her with a nostalgic smile. "I actually met Pierre at an execution."

The way he says it gives her pause, and suspiciously she asks, "You mean some random, just-another-Tuesday-on-Ardolis kind of execution. Right?"

"Well. Kind of. It was his."

Rivet has half a mind to give up and leave right then and there. This is ridiculous. They are ridiculous. She should know better by now than to get involved with anything pirate related. So why was it that every time the image of Pierre drinking himself away in a lonely corner of Zurkie's popped into her head she had to go and care so much?

"I was still brand new to the gig," Quantum continues, "trying to get the hang of it all and not stick out too much from the rest of the crew. They really like their executions on Ardolis, you know, and I'd been to a few by then. But this one felt off. The charges listed seemed more like they were grasping at straws to justify it rather than there being any legitimate cause for it." He shrugs. "So I spoke up in his defense."

She can't help the little twinge of pride she feels at that. Even if it was just to help another pirate, it's good to know he hadn't given up everything he'd once stood for the moment he left.

"Say what you will about the pirates, but for the sake of keeping up morale among the crew, they are very particular about what does and doesn't qualify for an execution. After my argument they had to let him go. Then they told me if I was so keen on keeping him out of the locker, he could just be my problem from there on out."

"Aaaaaaand he was," she finishes for him, smirking up at the ceiling. Quantum chuckles.

"I wouldn't say that. We turned out to be a great team! I don't think I would have lasted on Ardolis for very long without his guidance. And I certainly never would have become Captain. I came up with the idea to bug the Emperor, but Pierre was the one who came up with a plan that actually worked. He'd tell you mine were all too harebrained and reckless."

"Yeah, I remember those," she teases, and he smiles back at her. It wavers just a bit.

"Anyways. While they did grow to like me, they never really warmed up to Pierre. And that might be a little bit my fault. I know in their eyes I gave him too much authority and freedom to do his own thing, but I did it because I trusted him and needed the help. Things were mostly fine! But…every now and then something wouldn't quite pan out the way he'd intended, or there'd be a slump where we weren't raking in as much as we'd like, and the crew would get restless and start looking for ways to lay the blame on him. So I'd have to step in and put a stop to it."

He sighs.

"You came here to ask if I had any ideas on how to help him, right?"

She doesn't bother answering. Judging by the regretful tone of his voice, it's pretty clear this had turned out to be a fool's errand after all. While disappointing, it's not altogether unexpected.

"As I am now—" he gesture's down to himself, at the impeccably tailored black suit (worn over his other suit, no less. But Rivet knows better than to ask some questions) that's a far cry from his implausibly passable robot disguise "—there's nothing I can do. And given that they were already going behind my back…" he trails off peevishly. "It can't last forever though. Once they find their bearings again, Pierre will be free to do as he pleases."

Rivet throws her arms out with a sharp huff and grumbles down to the floor, "He said the same thing."

She hates when waiting is the only answer. Then her annoyance fades as another idea strikes her. Looking back up, she says carefully, "Well. If you can't do anything to help him, maybe you could at least go let him know you're not actually dead."

The look of abject horror that crosses over Quantum's face isn't quite the reaction she was expecting.

"I can't do that."

She scoffs. "Why not?"

Shuffling his feet, he says, "Look. Rivet. I tried that once. Back when I was first outed by your friend Ratchet. And it didn't really go all that well for me."

"So what? This is Pierre we're talking about. I've never really gotten the impression he was into that whole 'anti-squishy' agenda Nefarious was preaching."

"Now, that's different," Quantum insists, and he stops himself there, looking cornered. But before she can interject that it's really not, he regains his momentum and carries on. "Just because he took a shining to you doesn't mean he'll be okay with finding out I've been lying to him all these years."

"Well, it can't be any less okay than him trying not to get killed by wasting away for weeks in a bar and thinking the only person who ever believed in him is dead," she snaps.

He flinches, and she thinks to herself, good!

"Rivet." He casts about helplessly. "You have to understand…I can't just…and with the election coming up…"

Well if that wasn't just a slap in the face.

She takes a step back, incredulous, and every positive emotion she'd felt toward him since stepping into this office dissolves into nothingness. "Right," she says, gritting her teeth, and the rage that had boiled so fiercely within her transforms into a stagnant, cold sort of fury. "The election. Guess I really should have seen that one coming, huh?"

Quantum looks at her, wide-eyed, and it's obvious he's realized his mistake. "No," he says, backtracking. "No. That's not what I mean—"

"I don't really want to hear it." She shakes her head. "I don't know what else I was expecting anyways. It's still all about you, isn't it? What does Carl want? How does Carl feel? The Resistance isn't fun enough? Well. How about we just go join the pirates and steal from the people we've been trying to help instead—"

"Now, hold on just a second, that was never what—"

"Oh, or how about this!" And now her voice is trembling. "A good friend of ours is in trouble? Well. He might end up just a little bit upset that we haven't been completely honest with him over the years, and that makes us uncomfortable. So you know. We can't have that. Hang him for all we care."

Quantum's mouth clacks shut at that, and now he has the gall to look like he's upset with her. But Rivet's not quite finished with him yet.

"But that's just what you do, isn't it, Carl? You run out on your friends when they need you the most."

The stricken look on his face is the last thing she sees before she decides she's had enough. She turns to stand in the open doorway for a moment, says, "Good luck with your precious election," then slams the door behind her before storming out of the building.

The next time her gut tries to tell her something is a bad idea, she's just going to listen to it.

.

.

A/N: And thus, many gaps in my roadmap were filled by running around under Pierre in Ardolis until I was sure I got all his dialogue. "Ah, another execution foiled again! Haha!" Freaking brilliant. I love this silly robot man so much.

Also. Usually...since I've decided Rivet calls Quantum by his first name when she's actually talking to him, I'd change all those instances between dialogue to Carl too. But I wasn't sure if that'd be too jarring to read since he's always referred to as Quantum in the game.