"Get in!"
Needing no other prompt to run from the structure or any more motivation than the half-melted and flaming rubble collapsing all around them, the pair climbed into the gap one after the other.
An icy gust brushed by their nerves in turn as the two found their feet greeted not by the solid touch of the ground that they were expecting, but instead an empty expanse of air. But with each of them having their own form of superhuman ability and durability, falling onto the hard metallic floor after a drop of ten feet was a trivial issue.
And so after the initial surprise of seeing the true size of the vessel's innards, they managed to coordinate themselves to land feet first - a set of echoing thuds following in their wake.
They each took a breath of the frigid, sterile atmosphere and gathered their bearings. The area was far larger than what its exterior would suggest, with the azure hallway they found themselves in being thrice or four times their own height and stretching on for what could only have been half the length of the entire ship, at least as viewed from the outside.
Even then, that was not counting the point where it branched out into two equally massive halls, each one somehow leading to someplace even deeper inwards where there should have been no space left. Even here, in this single sector where the walls were lined with, thankfully, inactive prison cells, it beggared belief that such a place could fit within the ship if it also wanted to have any sort of propulsion mechanism, reactor or weaponry to allow it to actually fulfil its purpose.
"We're really doing this aren't we?" Rhodonite said, a ray of agitation glimmering through her otherwise tenacious exterior as she resisted the urge to gawk at the result of the ragtag trio's deeds.
Similarly amazed by the ship, though less by the fact that they had managed to steal such a craft and more because it was his first time in such a place - where the laws of physics were seemingly broken by a spatial compression drive - Bolt concurred her sentiments."We are. So let's end it."
"Yeah, let's." She replied, a cautious grin growing on her face as she took the beginnings of a sprint.
Yet, after a few auspicious steps, experience came back calling, reminding her how labyrinthine each locale affected by these technologies could be. There was little point in aimlessly charging down the halls in the hopes of finding the control room, else it would only serve the purpose of wasting more time if they got lost. Time they could not afford to let slip from their grasp.
But it seemed that Morganite once more proved to be able to make ingenious use of the ship's mechanisms, for the glyphs on the small touchpads embedded in the walls beside each cell changed from numbering to arrows pointing out directions.
Moments later, the PA system crackled to life as she spoke again. "Follow them and meet me at the bridge."
While Rhodonite now seemed to be the apprehensive one, not quite sure whether she should be following their directions at first, the irrefutable fact that Morganite had gone to these lengths did something to rebuild a rickety bridge of trust between them.
'The fleck's helped us this far. Might as well go all the way,' Rhodonite half cursed them and half coached herself, 'not like I've got a choice anyways.'
Chewing on her own lips, she found a miniscule spark, flickering somewhere deep and buried within her, that allowed her to allot some faith in the one person that had wronged her in the greatest possible way in her life- no, lives, all three of them. The individuals, and the fusion that they made together.
Because of these thoughts, as she ran down the repetitive hallways she wondered what had driven Morganite to, supposedly, make up for their past wrongdoings. To risk their reputation, their position… their life.
And to what end? What did they gain from breaking others out? From defying the regime that had given them a cosy position since their creation?
'How different can they all really be from eachother?'
Then again, while she was not the best authority on what went on in the minds of the aristocracy, she had long since held opinions - opinions that had long been reinforced, then set in stone by accounts and anecdotes alike which she had heard from Fluorite and their components - that they all but invariably acted the same. So long as they were manufactured correctly, that is.
And yet, here was evidence to the contrary. Evidence that made it harder for her to maintain such skepticism, especially when including everything that had happened within the prison itself. After wracking her mind for any way Morganite could somehow profit from this insane venture, she could find none, at least none without any major fallacies or holes that she was more than certain an aristocrat like her old master would be superbly aware of.
However, there could have been another reason. One not motivated by their self interest or greed, or indeed, motivated by anything. It was the strangest reason, but there were ones stranger still. Wishful thinking as it felt right now, perhaps that was the answer to all of this madness.
Perhaps that was it, that while their body was created fine, something deep and buried within their mind was not. Damaged, and in need of 'repair', whatever that entailed, to tow her back into line with Imperial ideals.
'Pfft… as if.' Clenching her teeth behind closed lips for a moment, she shook her head in an attempt to throw those thoughts off. Yet as she ran down the halls, the inkling possibility remained, there, nagging in the back of her mind and constantly calling to her with irritating cries to try and justify its own plausibility.
Though it did more than outcompete mere goodwill or selflessness as a plausible reason in her opinion. That, and it did provide something tangible to explain why they were in prison.
Banishing speculation in favour of what was there in front of her, she saw the rows of prison cells, and as such the arrows that guided her, at last ending. The walls became smooth as the cells gave way to the same iridescent triangular patterning that panelled the rest of the ship's insides.
Seeing that this leg of her journey was coming to a close, she went from a sprint to a jog, until by the time she was at the already open airlock door she had come to a walking pace.
The construct hissing to close behind her upon entering, there in the bridge, she was met with a thoroughly odd sight. Wiping the shock off of her expression, she took in what she saw.
First and foremost was the realisation that she had been so lost in her own thoughts that without knowing it, Bolt had reluctantly overtaken her and went to the bridge first. While she was not irked by an act that was merely taking the initiative, as in retrospect she could tell that the focus diverted by her internal monologuing did seem to slow her down somewhat, what he was doing at present caused her to fall into a double take.
He was now there, at the other end of the room, facing Morganite as the two spoke. Organic and aristocrat, conversing cordially - at least as cordially as the sheer stress stirred up by the situation allowed - with naught a hint of betrayal and only a smidge of the superiority she expected from Morganite's side.
Had it not been for the first few sentences exchanged between the two, she would have more than likely pulled him aside and away from them in concern for whatever nonsense someone like Morganite may drum into his young and more easily influenced mind. But as it was, albeit with some suspicion, Rhodonite continued to pay attention to their conversation to glean some information on what their next actions would be.
Desperate circumstance was a powerful force indeed.
"...two floors below?"
"Yes, I am sure of it," He said hurriedly, "I heard her- down there in the crowd."
Morganite ruminated on the information for a few seconds, and in that time her processing power let her run through a number of possibilities. Ultimately though, the approach that had the potential to save the most of their rapidly depleting time and not the one that ensured the highest accuracy - at the expense of needing to comb everywhere thoroughly - won out.
And if there was some evidence supporting this course, tenuous as it was, then the chances of finding this apparently very important peridot in the first area she checked did not seem so ludicrous after all.
Levelling her thoughtful gaze towards them, Morganite gave her standing on the idea. "Fine, I will go," though she did sound as if she held some misgivings at the prospect of having to trust the word of a quartz, in the end they had shown her - if tentative - backing when she needed it the most, and she would now do so in return, "for now though, take a place there. This might get… difficult." She added, now looking to the holotable at the centre of the control room
Speaking the language of half-truths and appeasement however, or rather, breaking away from it, seemed more difficult than what she intended to do next in comparison. Almost.
But in such a situation it could, at least in part, be forgiven. She could feel the tension in the air. It was thick enough to choke on. This, combined with the overwhelming odds stacked against them, meant morale was also thinned in turn, and the creeping dread down her back meant she was reminded quite well she alone could not contain a mutiny from even those two. Those who, unlike her, were built to wage war.
Carefully worded statements, in her mind, wesecondre necessary in times like these, no matter how distasteful it felt to act in the same duplicitous vein as her former colleagues and peers.
Agreeing with a silent nod, Bolt watched as she gave him mutual acknowledgement before turning the hovering captain's chair around. Afterwards, she placed her hands back into the ghostly luminescence of the console, her eyes turning a similar shade of flat blue as glyphs and code began streaming across them as she did.
Heeding her instructions, he got to the seat at the head of the table in the nick of time. The ship began to shake and screech as it left its makeshift berth, the thumb likely scratching some part of the ruined building on its departure.
Rhodonite for her part, despite her own doubts of Morganite, appeared to have taken the warning in earnest and dropped her stolen spear to her lower set of hands before making for the closest chair. Having not tarried, she made it to a seat just before the worst of the disturbances. With her more well-built upper set of arms, she grabbed onto the armrests as tight as she could, and not a second sooner the vehicle made a number of nauseating manoeuvres in rapid succession.
As the commotion ended and she began easing her grip, she became suddenly aware that, through the cracked and darkened visor of the helmet, Bolt had been watching her. Even if he was wrapped in this menacing image, she could easily tell that the nature behind the viewing was benign - and in any case, she had the comfort of knowing that he of all people would never threaten her.
In fact, his actual stance was quite different. His head was tilted ever so slightly to the side, as if questioning what he saw.
And she knew instantly what it was that had captured his attention.
Finding it in herself to crack a half-smile through these troubling times, she faced him in return. "You like it?" She said, tired, but still proudly pointing to the symbol surrounding her right eye. "Because the clods back there definitely didn't." Spent as she was, she still found cause for a small sense of satisfaction to well up within.
At her words, he wiped away the now dried mud that was stuck to the front of his chestplate. And as the dirt crumbled and the dust settled, once more was the imposing insignia proudly emblazoned on its front allowed to inspire those beholden to it with its fury.
After an almost unnoticed moment spent shuffling in place - as though there was something causing him discomfort - he leaned back on the floating seat and replied to her, simply. "Of course. Besides, why should they after what we've done to them?"
Despite how earnest he sounded, in truth there was a modicum of doubt in his own conviction that had remained withheld from his tone. Spawned from equal parts regret and uncertainty, he used this breather to look back at recent events, somberly wondering what he meant with those words which had just left his mouth.
"Heh, you said it..." Rhodonite trailed off, pausing for a time as she watched him sit there. Unmoving. "Hey, Bolt," she called out to him, the concern in her voice giving him much reason to pay attention, "you alright there?" She added, her brow now raised a slight bit in concern aswell.
Though his head had remained fixed on her the whole time, his downcast eyes rose back up to meet hers, seeing the worry that was hidden behind them. While surprised that she could deduce even only some of his emotions through the full-face visor, he halted for only a moment before giving an answer in casual neutrality. "Yes, more or less."
Though again some of the truth had been barred from his words. He knew now was not the time to act glum and bring down everyone's spirits - even if he also knew her intentions were, in the end, for his own benefit. Comforting could come later he decided, as in times like these he could not afford to show any significant indecision nor exhaustion. He felt as if, out of some deep, buried instinct, he had to be absolute and resolute in both speech and deed.
To light himself on fire for the sake of leading others, then to keep burning. Until either he was charred, or they made it out to the other side.
"...You sure?"
"Mhmm." He said, nary a hint present in his words nor body language that could have betrayed any of his emotion.
She made a subtle tilt of her head forwards in his direction, questioning if what he said mirrored how he really felt. Yet, after a sigh, she retracted back into a reclined seating position as she found herself nodding with hidden reluctance and taking what he said at face value. "Okay then..." She said in a slow, almost drawled-out pace, "It's just… after everything…"
After at last having some moments in peace, away from battle, her senses began to claw themselves away from her previous combat-focused state of mind. Every near death, every pile of shards she saw, these things returned, and they rushed to the forefront of her mind; winding her with sorrow and sickness in their wake. Even when equipped with part of the programming of a ruby, of the backbone of the infantry, she could only keep such feelings down for so long.
Despite the fact that these realities then cast into doubt how he, an organic, had endured it all without so much as showing a single sign of strain, she could not find it in her stones to question him any more.
In any case - and in contrast to what her instincts were telling her to get on with - she felt it was not her place to pry, at least not at present, or not without invitation. So with a heavy conscience, she reluctantly truncated the sentence, letting a final few muttered wisps leave her mouth before finishing it without an ending.
Not wishing to dismiss her well-meaning efforts entirely, as he found her drifting off and unable to say what she wanted to, he spoke in her stead to fill the somber silence. "I understand." He said, sympathising with her simple desire of checking up on him. "I guess it has-" Cutting off, he stopped himself as a sound echoed through the hull of the ship. A deep, reverberating clang coming, not from the bow where the hole was, but from above.
Muffled as the first was, having been dampened by the thick hull, the proceeding pitter patter of similar sounds made it undeniable to anyone paying even the barest attention that something was crashing onto the dorsal side of the ship.
"What was that?" Rhodonite said in a harsh half-whisper, turning to look upwards and her lower arms giving the spear back to her upper arms as she did.
Though thoughts of rubble and debris falling onto the ship was what first came to mind, for it was the most likely explanation, they were soon dismissed as the din did not stop. Further discrediting this idea was that, from the epicentres of the initial impacts, came further clashing against metal, and quieter still as these proceeding noises were, their positions could still be guessed with some effort on the listener's part.
Each one seemed to have originated directly ahead of the previous, and all the disparate sources that caused them almost appeared as though they were converging upon a single area.
Each one was far too rhythmic, too fast and too directed to have been mere collisions. It was as if they were...
"Footsteps..." Alerted into action, the grip on his pickaxes tightened as he became alarmed by the possibility of a boarding party.
Murmured as the single word was, Rhodonite caught wind of it and instantly was instilled by the same sense of urgency.
Alarmed by the swiftness of their sudden decision, after disconnecting from the control interface, Morganite swivelled the hover chair around with all speed to turn towards the pair. "Wait!"
Hearing her exclaim just as they lept out of their chairs and prepared to run down towards the breach, the call from their impromptu captain halted the duo in their tracks before they turned to face her.
Rhodonite spoke up first, glaring at them for a brief moment before making her thoughts known. "What now?"
Subdued as the sentiment behind the words were, the irritation she held within was made easily evident when seen through Morganite's lens - polished and honed from millennia spent around those who were far more practiced.
Ignoring their ire, Morganite replied in as curt a manner as the severity of the situation allowed. "Those aren't hostiles." She said, gesturing back to the holo screens floating above the console that displayed feeds of different parts of the ship, especially at the feed from the camera facing the hole at the thumb. "They're merely more prisoners. Not too dangerous, not to us at least, seeing as we are helping them…" While she did ramble on for a bit longer than was necessary, it was because she again understood the need to placate the ones who she needed the support of the most. "Stay here, we will be departing soon."
"Mmm… alright." Begrudging as she was at first, Rhodonite backed down and returned to her seat, with Bolt following shortly after.
After a peaceful moment of silence, a wide-eyed revelation burst its way into her mind, jolting her out of her seat before she turned to confront Morganite. "Wait, wait, hold on. Departing? For where?"
The very second she voiced the question, Bolt paused halfway from sitting down only to jump back up to full height before then facing Morganite. The battle-damaged and darkened visor of his helm stared at her, projecting all the weight of the severity and seriousness that engulfed his being while he awaited her answer with bated breath.
"Offworld. Where else could we go?" Morganite stated matter-of-factly. Though there was no malice in her tone, and only a granule of impatience.
Freezing at their words, Rhodonite felt a tight unease grip her as she struggled to grapple with the sole possibility it pointed towards. But once that grip slackened, she found herself filled with the zeal to struggle and protest against their decision.
Zeal that was made all the greater now that, even when discarding their past transgressions for the sake of shaky cooperation, she had justification to oppose her old master.
"We can't just leave Homeworld!" Exclaiming, she looked at Bolt - who was just as, if not more tense than she had been - for a moment before looking back.
Taken aback and filled with confusion by the responses given to her by the two, Morganite paused for a moment to compose herself. "What could possibly drive you to want to stay on this stars-forsaken planet?" She said, allowing a current of irritation flow into her words to hone in her point.
In truth though, only some of that irritation was targeted at Rhodonite. After the time she had spent in this hive of deceit and dishonesty, she held naught but spite for the planet. It was as though nigh everyone who was assigned here had a facet of their character irreversibly erased - as if something intrinsic about the world itself wiped any good in someone and replaced the hollow void left behind with the accursed duo of ambition and greed. From the highest strata to those down low, she had seen everyone affected by it. None were safe.
However, the blasé way Morganite's rhetorical question had been phrased had caused something to visibly snap within Rhodonite, and so after a deep scowl formed on her features, she gave a sharp retort. "Because I have people waiting for me down there! People I care about, people who care about me!" She declared, rising in volume with every word spoken. "And I can't just- just run away and abandon them!"
For barely a passing instant, Morganite's eyes widened, a gleam of sympathy shining from them as she heard new information; though she did then proceed by hiding those emotions with practiced ease. Yet, even that itself was getting harder by the minute, for ever since divulging her intended destination, that quartz's intense gaze had barely left her.
Putting on a tone of pity, she did her best to try and diffuse the conflict. "I had no idea... but, please, understand that there's nothing I can do for you... not without taking a massive risk. A risk to you, me- everyone else aboard." She paused, taking in a breath laced with regret. "I'm sorry."
Without warning, Rhodonite went from standing still to making a steady march towards them, spear in hand as she became intent on taking over the controls."Tch, of course that's what you'd say. Do you really expect me to believe you care?" As if to emphasise her doubt, she made a gesture of feeling the weight of the weapon in her hands. "Like you people would know anything about giving two flecks for anyone but yourselves..." She spat, not believing a single piece of their appeal at the end.
Seeing what was happening, Bolt took a number of tentative steps forwards and moved to try and broker a peace. "Rhodonite…" He implored, speaking softly at first despite the urgency of the situation.
In part, it was because he knew the precariousness of the whole affair, and what it needed was certainly not another shouting voice to be thrown into the fray. But in his heart of hearts, there was an instinct as ancient as humanity tugging, holding him back - subliminally telling him to have some deference to whoever raised him, so long as they raised him well and with respect, and that the off colours did.
Yet his plea had fallen on ears deafened by the raucous call of vengeance. For aside from a scant second where she stopped to clench her free fists, likely in an exercise to aid her in ignoring his own appeal, she did not slow. "Please, stay out of this… this doesn't involve you." She said, her voice choked into a whisper by bitterness and her countenance growing darkened before her focus redoubled on the aristocrat.
Evidently, unbowed and unbroken as the front she presented to Morganite was, it inevitably showed a number of cracks when she tried to use it on Bolt. She knew he cared for her, but neither did she want him to become involved in a spat as ancient as this. She hated having to fight against him, for it was often the case that his actions were only ever fuelled by altruism.
Though she found that aspect of his character as something to be cherished, for it was all too rare in the universe, she also found that the benefits in his acts all too often blinded him to the repercussions. And even if in recent days that tendency of his had shown signs of slacking, she came to the conclusion that this to be one of those times. Good of him as it was to attempt to mediate a truce, she felt a truce would not guarantee the reins of the ship going to them, far from it in fact with how much experience she expected Morganite to have in negotiations.
And she would not be forced to run, not again, and not when the means to turn back home were so close and within her grasp.
In turn, beneath his helmet he bit back a retort as his own face was crushed into a guilted mass - eyes pained and his mouth slightly opened in breathless speech. He was torn between the two. Torn on whether he should follow the stranger, a stranger who was part of the very same cliques he was warned of since birth, and yet had made sound arguments - or to follow the bonds of kinship and the yearning, but increasingly forlorn, desire to go home.
Though it had not been a strict nor conscious betrayal on the noble's part, of them suggesting leaving the world, he knew the safety purchased for himself and Rhodonite through the act would come at the cost of leaving everyone either of them had ever known or cared about. And the thought of that, not only of leaving all they had, but also the grief it would bring to those same people they would abandon, left a terrible taste in his mouth. A taste could not see himself being able to swallow without protest, so neither did he expect Rhodonite to either.
However, by now he had ruminated on Morganite's argument, and in his mind's eye he saw the horrific consequences wrought onto the settlement - onto its denizens - resulting from the numberless risks of taking the route back using the ship.
Not only that, but now there were the other prisoners to think of too. Those who so unlike them had no links chaining them to Homeworld. Nothing to lose from leaving, and everything to gain by taking the opportunity to flee here and now.
'Is it right to risk them for ourselves?' He thought, growing weary within because of it.
Gradually, he had to admit, he started to question which one was more bitter to swallow.
Within the short time he had spent weighing the options, the feud had gotten further out of hand. So much so that not even the skills Morganite had accumulated could hide her contempt, not when a point so close to her had been the subject of insult, indirect as it was.
"Do not presume anything about me." She warned.
There was nothing good that came from the statement, and now Rhodonite was continuing her march with tears of fury and grief brimming at her eyes. "You threw me- us away the moment you could find an excuse. Then you tried to use us for your games - like any upper crust would've! So sorry if I presume that you won't listen to what I have to say." She said through gritted teeth.
Swift as her small form would allow, Morganite turned around and placed a hand onto the console, causing a blue destabiliser to manifest in her grip before turning to face her to-be assailant. "And why should I!?" She retaliated, much of the restraint she once had finally disappearing as self-preservation - the deepest seated instinct in any living thing, synthetic or organic - took over. "Your way, if I follow it, will get us shot down and killed!" She shouted, brandishing the knife-length weapon as she did.
Hard as it was for Morganite to hold herself back from pre-emptively attacking, she did not want to dedicate into an attack, not yet, not until it was evident that she would have to in self-defense. She knew her standing with the other individual in the room was already tenuous at best, and she did not want to taint it any further by being the aggressor.
'Not as if I can even stand against her if I wanted to anyways...' It was not a comforting thought, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was one she knew to be true nonetheless.
If Rhodonite held even the most miniscule concern about the display, she showed little sign for it aside from deeping her scowl even further; vendetta-borne anger clouding any chance that she would give clemency more than any other reason she may have had, voiced and unvoiced.
"Rhodonite, please." He implored her again, speaking firmer this time. "Stop."
Still it continued to be of no avail, for it again elicited a short stall in her step and her lower fists to clench. If anything it had gotten worse, as this time, apparently, she was not even deigning to speak to him.
What came next however struck him at his very core, for after a short grumble that those around her nearly failed to catch, Rhodonite's form switched from motionless to impassioned within the blink of an eye. Though, curiously enough, she still kept the spear pointed at Morganite's face.
"Again with this." Starting with a harsh whisper, after a short pause she whipped her face towards him, infusing her voice with outrage. "Whose side are you really on dammit!?" She pressed, tears truly threatening to spill from her embittered face as she was continually denied the chance to let out her aeons old grief onto her real target.
Left slackjaw by her words, he struggled for a response. "I- how is that even a question to you?" He muttered, his tone little above a whisper to not betray the sorrow that stung the entirety of his being. From his core to his limbs, he felt an aberrant pain afflict him, coursing and pulsing with every beat before he found the fortitude to bid it to silence.
Realising what she had said, Rhodonite's grip on the weapon grew shaky as an upper hand rushed over her mouth and she almost began digging her nails into her lips with how hard instantaneous regret made her squeeze. Even past the armour covering his body and the guise covering his mind, she could feel exactly how hard her accusation had struck the child.
And it ached; the pang of guilt sanding down her very stones unabated in spite of how much she tried to deny it in her thoughts. To deny how her own anger clouded her judgement. To deny how she had inadvertently let it lash out and strike the wrong person.
Hurt as they did, and comfortable as a cushion as giving into denial would be, these emotions taking their course did much to bring her to terms...
...If perhaps too much.
Letting out a shuddered breath, her once ire filled features put up the barest resistance as the furious flame flickered and died within moments, leaving only grief and guilt as her companions.
Looking back to Morganite, the embers of vitriol flared up on her face one last time before they were blown out and she retracted her spear. "..." Staring for some time though in the end saying nothing, she turned around and walked back to the table.
Along the way, too ashamed was she at her own outburst she did not raise her head, not even at Bolt who she knew to be kind and forgiving beyond most.
As she sat down, whether it be through the sudden sobering up from previous righteous anger, as a strange coping mechanism, or the product of something deeper still, she somehow buried her anxieties. Anxieties about what would happen - both to her and those she left behind - after they left Homeworld were so thoroughly suppressed that she came halfway to forgetting about them, at least for now.
Not quite ready to accept what was going to be done but at the same time being left with nowhere else to go except forwards, she sat in a state of stasis and her mind was wiped almost blank. There was nothing good to think about, she felt, so why think?
And though she vowed to unearth them again when there was enough calm for her to think undisturbed and come to terms with circumstance, if she was being honest to herself there was no telling if she would want to, at least not at the first opportunity.
No one after all wants to be inflicted with pain - pain so deep and so cutting...
As she stayed there, quieted, whatever defiance she may have held before was converted into magnitudes greater levels of, if not compliance, then resigned over-penitence. Now she could only hold the faint hope that, perhaps, they could all meet again someday. That after leaving the world, they or the others could gather the means to travel the stars and reunite once more. Be it years, decades… or centuries…
Another ill thought seeped its way into her mind at that, on the longevity of organics, but she already had much to burden her, and so she merely added it atop the others to deal with in time.
For a moment, her head bobbed upwards before sinking back down again. In that short window where she glimpsed Bolt as he stood there while facing the front, a single unspoken prayer drifted past her unmoving mind.
'Please… please have a plan.'
And with that, she returned to near complete dormancy once more.
Himself being despondent at what he had to do, Bolt let out a deeply torn and troubled sigh. He held no illusions now. They had to leave, they had to run.
Whatever self-flagellation he might have struck himself with at the thought of breaking the silent oaths he made, overshadowing it was the severity of what was to be done today. And much of it laid with a single decision on his part to, in spite of the volatile cocktail brewing in his conscience, to not do anything and let their 'captain' follow on with their plan.
Though there remained the naïve part of him, at the back of his mind, trying its damndest to convince him that they could fly back into the labyrinthine corridors and tunnels below the world, with sombre reluctance he understood that he had to put those ideas to eternal rest. At first, he only intended to stop Rhodonite before the conflict spiralled out of control, but the aristocrat's argument struck true with him, for even if a hefty fraction of every fibre of his being tried to pull away and resist, there was no denying the malignant results of their other options.
There were no right answers here, only ones which were less rotten than their already putrid peers.
A flash of ice froze his nerves before he thawed out, letting on a subtle shiver as he saw the hideous places where that line of thought could have led him onto had he made a different decision.
A million scanners, a million mechanical eyes, a million watchers in the dark corners of the planet's underbelly.
'And it would only take a single one...'
A single one spotting them, and their overseers would know - know - and then follow them all the way back. To the settlement. To home. To them.
Yet, even after considering these far worse outcomes, the child still found tears building at the brim of his eyes at the choice he made. He wanted to bawl, to cry, partly for himself, but mostly the others. Though now thousands of miles away from home and hearth, he could feel their own emotions in a form just as, or far more visceral than his own.
Going missing for long would be as good as being dead to them - what with the surface having been their group's last known location - and the pulsing wound wrought into his hearts by the very notion flared up five times, each burst of agony being brief, and yet more scalding than the last.
They were not dead, but there would be no way to tell the off colours, to tell them everything, to tell them that they lived, even if it would be in some far distant corner of the universe.
'All they would know is our silence… our failure to return…'
He did not want to leave, nobody did, but neither did anyone wish to die, and neither did he. Simple as this line of thinking was compared to the previous one, it proved to be one of the most difficult to stomach.
In the end though, this was the strife of but one person, 'and if this is the best way… then so be it.'
Ultimately, he reasoned to himself, if for no other purpose than to make the prospect of abandoning all he knew barely palatable, in a way he would still be protecting those he loved from harm. Convicted and criminalised as each and every one of them had been by that Agate, he was more than sure that a stolen ship would equally be able to steal away the authorities' attention away from them.
'...But not all of them.'
Taking in a deep inhale of the sterile air as he was turning around, he let it out in another long breath as he was nigh on cursed by the sight of Rhodonite; left utterly still in a half slumping position by the extra load she was forced to bear. Her eyes were left aiming towards the table, her head leaning on her knuckles as her arm acted as a bare pillar to support the weight.
Seeing her, who held up a sense of courage and daring from their initial incarceration only mere moments before now slumping over the table did much to hammer in a powerful point into Bolt's head. Perhaps with the passing of time and when her stance was made clear - all so he could know how to best broach the issue with her - he would try to seek mutual counsel, but not now.
Yet - as he subconsciously took a seat that left a vacant chair between them - no matter how much it hurt for him to see her fall into such a state, he felt it ill to so much as speak to her so soon, especially knowing full well what one of the main reasons for her being in this state were.
With a final shudder and shake, the ship pointed towards the sky. He could see as much through the one-way view window at the front. Ashy grey smoke and soot continued to rise from the crater in the street and the prison, but his view was otherwise dominated by hues of hazy pink and cosmic blue that comprised the Homeworld sky.
"Inertial dampeners: On." The PA system announced, and although the voice was recognisably not a person's, for it had a noticeably more strange and monotone quality, the impact on him was no less significant. "Artificial gravity: on."
'No going back now…' A breath was held, anticipation and trepidation building in equal measure.
The shaking stopped and any sense of being thrown around by the sheer moment of centrifugal force ceased. But all the same, easier as it would now be to move around, everyone stayed in their respective places.
"Reactor: Diverting power…"
Clang clang
Perking up, a shallow flow of dread washed over him as he turned to face the door.
"Oh for stars sakes, why is this thing locked?" A vaguely familiar voice said, irritated in a manner that made it so he already had heavy conjecture of who the speaker was.
Not wishing to alert anyone on the other side, he locked his jaws tight and uttered nothing as he rose from his seat with an air of caution about him. After walking towards the door, he sucked in a shuddered breath and held it. He knew there would be no telling what their reactions would be to the news, and with the possibility of him being forced to deliver it, he had to be ready to manage the spillover.
"Hold on. Let me try something." Another voice spoke, and while it still had a muffled quality to it, now that he was closer he could discern their nature with far more accuracy. It belonged to a quartz, no doubt about that.
"Hey! Open up!"
An exhale was caught in his throat as their heavy fist clattered against metal, only for the act to then be followed by a long silence.
Though he could dispatch an untoward quartz or two, by no means did he want to - what with how many prisoners have come from the slums, and thus known eachother. Violence on his part would have only led to a great mutiny, and with the situation being as sensitive as it was, he did not want to add any more fuel or heat to an already drenched pyre.
But the next statement placated him, allowing him to let out the stagnant air that he had been holding for nearly half a minute in a sigh of relief that echoed within the enclosed helmet.
"Well that's all I can do." The quartz said, indifferent.
At that, he could hear Pery grumbling. An expected reaction from someone such as her for sure.
"Containment unit holding. Singularity drive powering…"
"Singularity… schist!" Pinpointing the alarmed one as no one possibly other than Pery, he heard her beginning slowly, but once she realised the implications of the announcement, a frantic set of rapid beeps could be made out as she likely attempted brute forcing the small console on the other side.
However, her efforts were rebuffed as another automated voice declared, "access: denied."
"What the- open this damn door!" Pery cried out in vain, banging her fist against the gates a few times before the sound of footsteps signified someone else was coming along.
But it was not someone aiding her. "Eh, why are you so bothered anyways?" A third voice spoke, a ruby from the sound of them. "I'd love to meet whoever had the grit to pull this off, but 's not as if the rest of the ship is gone." They then added before footsteps going in the other direction could be heard.
A jumbled chorus of casual agreement among the crowd on the other side could be heard, and the steady beat of dozens of footsteps followed in short order - each one following that of the ruby's crude wisdom as seemingly everyone but Pery went in the other direction.
"I- but..." She floundered for a response, for anything that might convince the other prisoners to stay and help her.
Again, a long sigh escaped him. In spite of the relief he felt below, now that there was a very real chance that a riot within the ship had been avoided in its entirety, he grew sombre at their plight. But there was another, a third emotion. Something he felt so few times to the point that he almost did not recognise what it was as it built up inside of him.
"Hrrr, let me in for stars sake!"
Another strike on metal followed, emanating from lower down this time and telling him that she had kicked the door in one last futile act.
While it seemed that her desperation would be corrupted into rage, as the herd of footsteps grew quieter and faded into the distance, he almost began to question himself as he heard an uncharacteristic noise coming from the sole person left on the other side. They began quiet at first, so quiet in fact that he initially believed it to merely be hyperventilation, but as the seconds ticked by they grew in volume. Not by much, though enough that he could distinguish what was truly happening.
From what little he knew of Pery, he did not think a veteran of a millennia long war, especially someone so coarsened by it as her, could fall to doing what he heard.
However, the longer that she believed there were no witnesses around her, no witnesses around to see her despair, the muted sobbing only became more powerful - more undeniable in its reality as she begged for any scrap of reprieve. "Please…"
"Singularity stabilised." Again though, cold indifference was the only response thrown her way.
Soon, he found what it was, for the third thing he felt grew as her plight continued. It was the same thing he felt with each strike that felled a quartz in the prison… the same thing he felt with each life he took from someone who had no choice but to follow their orders.
"Autopilot: enabled." Another automated voice spoke, this time coming from the console at the front.
Pity. It was pity.
After that, the doors at last hissed and parted Pery stumbled inwards, for she had previously been leaning against what once was a solid mass. Once initial shock had passed, she regained her footing before her head began darting around the room.
Almost embarrassed, with haste she erased any signs of her initial shock before a strange mania took hold of her. "You two!?" Her head shuffled from Bolt at the side of the door to Rhodonite at the table in the middle of the room. "How did you get here!?" Wavering for a second to gather her breath, after pointing a panicked finger towards the captain's chair she began again. "And who's that at the front!? And… where the frack are we go… ing. No..."
In conspiracy with her sorrow returning tenfold, a greater shock petrified her in place, her hand faltering as her eyes were met with the sight of what was ahead, just on the other side of the one-way view window at the front.
"No. No no no, you can't be…" Frantically, she bargained for something. For it to be a dream, or an illusion. Anything, absolutely anything aside from what reality presented before her.
And yet, from the announcements, she had already formed wild speculation of what was happening. But to see proof so tangible as the void of space, the white specks of stars, the universe itself, distort and elongate around them as the craft went travelling at faster than light speeds. It was all too much for her to bear. Staring towards the front, she waited for whoever the captain was to leave their seat. They had turned on autopilot already after all.
Already having disconnected from the console some moments ago, Morganite took another moment to brace herself before turning the seat around and jumping off onto the ground. Afterwards, she spent a second acclimating by taking a deep breath and closed eyes. But as she re-opened her eyes and readied to address an entire crowd, she was met with the strange situation where the sole audience was a single dismayed peridot.
Tempting as it was to simply leave them to wallow in their misery as she took to more important tasks such as charting their course, after seeing the longing - the begging - in their drained eyes, she decided to take their concerns, their anxieties, seriously anyways. If only for a short moment before she returned to the reins.
"You can't…" Pery tried repeating part of her previous sentence, but the words were hopelessly lost as she paled more and more at the sight of light years rushing by.
"I am. I had to. Otherwise..." pausing for a time, Morganite thought of how to best word it, "at best, everyone aboard would have only been recaptured."
Then with deep sincerity, all the while quietly wishing within that they would take it better than the fusion, she spoke again.
"They told me everything, about what you all have to lose from this." Pausing again, she spared a cursory nod to the other two people in the room before looking back to Pery. "For what my word is worth, I'm sorry."
While faux-amicable professionalism was the main theme of her tone, there was some genuine sympathy just a layer below. Cynical as she had become over the eras, she had also seen it all too many times before not to feel for these people, to feel for what they were going through, even if in many cases it would be for the best.
Pery, falling on her knees with arms falling limp by the waist side, she took a sharp, gasping breath as she looked Morganite in the eyes. However, with a glacial pace, her hollow gaze swapped over to Bolt, who was right beside her-
-and with a twitch flashing across the left side of her face, a question as solitary as she was left her mouth; little more than a single word, and still, it took what seemed to be an eternity until it was fully uttered.
"Why?"
He had no answer.
A/N:
This was a damn hard chapter to write, at least in regards to the argument in the middle. So many times in the earlier drafts it either felt everyone was being too angry or too cold or too indecisive about it and I struggled to find a good medium without someone also becoming super OOC.