It was nearing midnight as Ratchet padded quietly through the Phoenix. There was no-one else about, as Captain Pykard and the others had gone back to Kerwan and all crew members had retired to their quarters. He entered the Observation Lounge, looking to have a cup of Breegus Nectar Tea before hitting the sack. Making his way over to the hot drinks dispenser he pressed a button and the machine whirred into action. Gripping the mug in his hands, he turned to leave, then paused.
A figure sat by the large window, their back turned to him. He knew who it was almost instinctively and smiled, going over to them without hesitation. Without saying anything, he took a seat alongside them, tucking his feet under him as he sipped his tea. Swallowing the sweet liquid he looked out of the window. The Phoenix was in orbit around Kerwan, but at the moment, the Observation Lounge faced outer space. There were no other ships in sight, or planets, just space and...the stars. Turning away from the window, Ratchet studied the figure next to him carefully.
Waves of grey locks hung about her face in a careless fashion, unhindered by any accessory or styled cut, simply naturally falling into place around her features. Her shoulders were hunched over into a relaxed position and her ears flopped ever so slightly against her skull. Her whole face was motionless as it remained tilted up, only the occasional blink of her brilliant blue eyes a sign she was awake. Her expression was one of thoughtful tranquillity, and her eyes were focused on something distant. She seemed as a statue, intricately carved into a pose that held her in perpetual contemplation of something that would forever remain out of her reach.
Ratchet continued to regard her for a while, not wishing to interrupt her thoughts and spoil the moment. Instead he watched, and waited, content to just look at her.
"There are so many of them," she murmured after a moment of silence had passed by unbroken, her voice barely above a whisper. Ratchet followed her gaze once again out of the window to where the stars gazed solemnly back at them.
"I hardly ever saw them when I was on Florana, but I know about them," she went on, "different shapes and sizes, some bright and hot, some dull and cold. Some with their own systems, some without. Some old and nearing death, some young and just starting to live," she took a breath, "all of them living in one universe. Billions and billions of them, in one space. If one of them dies, there is another to take its place. And if that one dies, there is another to take its place. They go on, and will go on...forever. There will never be just one of them...or just two," she murmured. Her head slowly turned to face him and her eyes met his. Instantly, he was enveloped by the tumultuous storms contained within the blue of her eyes, laid bare before him in a moment of exposure. And what storms they were. They spoke of unimaginable pain, terrible loss and overwhelming grief. They silently howled in incomprehensible tongues, utterly confused and bewildered by all around them. He wasn't just looking at her, he was looking into her. And it was heartbreaking.
Skyla was wounded, that much was clear. But how deep the wound went...he didn't know, he didn't know if he wanted to. And yet, seeing it so clearly, like a gaping hole before him, made him wonder if he would ever be able to fill it, if he would ever be able to heal her...if they would ever be able to heal each other of what they had been through.
He brought to mind her words and what she had just said. He understood her reference as clear as day and thought how best to answer. She was in the dark, and what was darkness but the absence of light?
"There might be others," he said carefully, "it's a big universe out there...there could, there will be others." Skyla blinked and the light in her eyes flickered,
"I know," she sighed, her eyes slid out of the window again, a thoughtful look to them, "but where are they? Will we ever meet them?"
"I don't know," Ratchet answered softly, placing honesty over glass promises. Her shoulders fell a little lower and she looked down at her hands, fiddling with the bracelet she wore.
"You're so lucky you've met others...even if...things didn't really work out." Ratchet winced inwardly at her words. He'd often debated whether it was a good thing he'd met Angela and then Alister. On one hand, it's shown him that he wasn't alone and that there was hope for others out there. On the other hand, it had woken him to the fact that Lombaxes were near extinct and it was highly probably he was the last of his kind. And the two Lombaxes who had contradicted that fact had...gone, in one way or another, leaving him alone and perhaps more confused too. To say things didn't really work out was something of an understatement. Then again, he always reminded himself that had he not met Alister, he would have no idea who his father was. He would have lived out his life never knowing a thing about him, not even knowing what he looked like...
Suddenly, he remembered something and his hand reached into his pocket at the thought. Fishing about a bit he found what he was looking for and drew it out. He paused briefly before holding it out to Skyla.
"What's this?" she asked, sitting up straighter. She studied the object he was offering her. It looked like a pocket watch, a very old fashioned one, circular in shape and gold in colour, with carvings etched into the metal.
"Take it," Ratchet told her and she did so hesitantly, "open it." She ran her thumb across the lid, feeling the indented metal before her fingers curled around it, flicking a switch. The pocket watch flipped open, revealing its interior. On the bottom half was some sort of clockwork, possibly a complex way of keeping time, but on the top half it had a picture of...two Lombaxes.
Skyla's eyes widened and she looked closer at the picture, studying it intently. Both Lombaxes were young and male and looked to be in their late teens. The one on the right was taller and held a double ended wrench and wore a formal military style uniform. He had very light grey fur and rusty red stripes with fearless amber eyes. There was a strong, determined smile about his lips as he looked out at her, with the beginnings of a beard around his chin, showing that he was more man than boy. Skyla's gaze flicked over to the Lombax beside him and her eyebrows rose considerably. He looked just like Ratchet.
"That's my dad," Ratchet murmured quietly. Skyla glanced up at him, then back down at the picture. She didn't doubt him for a minute. They had the same colouring, the same build, the same eyes and facial features, it even looked like they had the same wrench!
"His name was Kaden, and that's Alister," Ratchet pointed to the other Lombax, "he's the one I got this from." Skyla ran a finger around the outside of the picture. It was slightly faded with age and had to have been taken several decades ago, but the picture itself was still clear. This was Ratchet's father.
"You look just like him," Skyla thought aloud. Ratchet smile, but it didn't reach his eyes,
"Thanks. I never knew him, or my mother. They died when I was very little."
"Mine too," Skyla replied, closing the pocket watch and handing it back.
"I'm sorry," Ratchet paused, "did you know them...at all?" he asked delicately. Skyla nodded,
"Yes, I remember them. They died when I was 3, but I...remember them."
"You must have a good memory," Ratchet muttered, eyes turning downcast as a slight frown fell across his features. He couldn't remember how old he'd been when his father had sent him away to save his life, certainly no more than 3. But if Skyla could still remember her parents...
Skyla saw the look in his eyes and debated revealing the truth.
"Actually, I don't," she confessed and he looked up at her, "have a good memory," she clarified at his slightly perplexed look. She hesitated briefly before continuing,
"When I was down on Eudora, I was found by the Enyd and they took me in." Ratchet looked thoughtful at this but said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
"They looked after me, healed me...in more ways than one. See, they have this ritual called a Rínpadad..." Briefly, Skyla described the Memory Walk and what it entailed. Ratchet's eyes widened as she spoke.
"So...you met your parents?" he asked in quiet awe. Skyla nodded once,
"Yes, I did. My mother was called Lea. She had sandy fur, a bit lighter than yours, with light brown stripes and blue eyes. My father was called Jozeff, and he had dark grey fur with black stripes and amber eyes. And that's all I know about them. I don't know how old they were, where they grew up...I think my mother had a sister but I'm not sure." There was a moment of thoughtful silence and then Ratchet asked, a little hesitantly,
"What was it like, reliving your life?" Skyla sighed and, pulling up her legs, clutched them to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.
"It was...painful," she replied honestly, "I only knew what I knew then but I can put the pieces together fairly easily. I don't know where I was born, but I lived in a house on a yellowish planet I presume was desert like. There were other Lombaxes too, other families. I don't know how many there were of us, but I know we weren't alone. I remember things like learning to talk, playing with other children, eating ice cream in the park with Mama," she hesitated as tears began to well in her eyes at the memories and she shook them off. Ratchet said nothing so she went on, feeling compelled to do so.
"I was only 3 years old when we were attacked, by Tachyon's troops, I think. I remember being so scared by the loud noises. My father went out help, leaving my mother and I to hide in the basement. I hated it down there, it was too dark. But Mama sang to me and everything was ok. Then...my house was raided and Mama put me in a crate and told me not to move, to stay put until she came back for me. She never did," Skyla choked slightly on her words and hugged her knees tighter.
"And then, I remember getting out the crate and finding my whole world in ruins. I found Mama lying in the hallway, in a pool of her own blood. I remember asking her to wake up...and then realising she never would." It was all coming out now, a torrent of words and feelings that she struggled to contain.
"I remember being taken away by two Blargs and sold as a slave for the first time, and the years I spent on Hoven. I forgot my parents when I was there, I almost forgot who I was, what I was. It was all too painful. When I was sold to Baen and arrived at the facility...I was...out of control, like a wild animal. Maia...helped calm me. She, and Jaymz," Skyla's voice broke, "they took care of me. They were always there for me, after every punishment Baen inflicted on me for a 'misdeed', they would be there. And I remember those punishments, each and every one of them. I remember escaping and Jaymz dying...and when I thought Maia had died too. I remember it all, now." Skyla buried her head in between her knees, frantically gulping back tears as she refused point blank to cry, opting to choke on the emotions instead.
"Sky..." she raised her head slightly at the sound of her name and met his eyes.
"I'm sorry," was all he said. In his eyes, there was no pity, or lukewarm condolences. In his eyes, there was only compassion, honesty and understanding.
She nearly crumbled right there and then under the weight of their kindness and hastily broke eye contact to prevent it happening.
"I hate that place, the facility," she blurted suddenly, her head scrabbling for anything to distract her from his melting eyes and seizing on the first thing that came to mind, "I hate it so so much." She froze as she realised what she'd said, and the situation she was now in. Oh, what cruel irony. She smiled a bitter smile,
"And now...I'm going back there...the one place I strived for years to escape from...I'm going right back." Her voice was heavy and she felt herself being dragged down with it as her words sank in. She was going back to the facility. Back to where she'd lived as a slave for nearly a decade, back to where all the pain stemmed from, back to where Jaymz had died. A choked sob escaped her before she could contain it and a hand clamped over her mouth. She was going back! She could hardly believe it. Although she'd always known she would return one day for the others...she'd never thought about what it would mean. It would mean returning to the place of suffering, and walking in of her own free will. Another sob tried to escape but she held it back so it spread down to her body that shook violently. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of confusion. Yes, she wanted to go back for her friends...but she didn't want to also revisit her pain. But it wasn't a one over the other decision; it was both...or neither.
Arms looped around her shoulders and she was pulled into an embrace. All at once, she was wrapped in the warmth of another body and the comfort that exuded from it in powerful waves. For a moment, she simply let it be, her body shuddering with each suppressed sob as he began rocking her gently. He shushed her like a parent would a child woken from a nightmare, and she calmed slightly at his crooning voice. Gradually, the shaking stopped, but she remained in his arms.
"It's ok," he whispered to her, his voice muffled slightly by her hair, "you don't have to go back there, Skyla, you never have to go back there again."
While she was sure his words were meant to be reassuring, they stirred something in Skyla that called to her. Shaking her head, she drew back, and the choking emotions died as she brushed them aside, stuffing them back into the box where they belonged.
"I have to," she murmured in reply, hoping he wouldn't press the subject.
"No, you don't..." Ratchet began.
"I want to," Skyla cut across, "I need to."
"Why?" Ratchet cried softly. Skyla looked down. Her eyes found the bracelet she was wearing and her thoughts turned to the Enyd, the grace they had shown her...and the fate that had befallen them. She winced. It was so cruel. She'd escaped the facility, her prison...only to shoulder the responsibility for the demise of an entire village, a village of gentle, peaceful people who had done nothing to deserve such a cruel, brutal death. A death at the hands of someone not unlike the Devil himself. Anger flared in her heart and a hard look entered her eyes,
"There's something I need to do," she muttered darkly, her grief forgotten as hatred began to bubble within her. She didn't care what the official process was, she was going to make Baen suffer for what he'd done to the Enyd, and friends at the facility, and her. Oh yes, he would suffer. By the time she was done with him...he'd wish he'd never been born.
"Skyla," she glanced up at Ratchet whose expression turned concerned at the raging fire in her eyes. The brilliant blue now burned with a fiery azure flame, like a super hot star preparing for a supernova that was sure to wipe out an entire system. Ratchet took her hand in his, partially surprised that it wasn't hot to touch,
"If you still want to come with us tomorrow, then that's fine," he paused and took a breath, "but...promise me you won't do anything...stupid." Skyla gave him a sharp look and made to pull her hand away, but he clung on.
"Promise me you won't let your feelings blind you," he implored her, "anger can do terrible things to people and I would hate...for you to get hurt." The fire in Skyla's eyes faded to mild confusion, then almost as quickly she seemed to freeze over, her eyes turning from fire to ice in the blink of an eye. She shook her head coldly,
"You don't understand."
"Sky, please..."
"Ratchet, you don't understand," she cut across him, giving him a piercing look. Ratchet hesitated in surprise at the change in her. It was like a volcano had spewed out ice instead of fire, and the coldness was overflowing from her eyes, a torrent of unfathomable loathing and hate. Subconsciously, he wondered where it had all come from. Then his mind began to put the pieces together as he thought and he realised that all of her anger wasn't directed at something, but someone. He remembered what had been said in the Ready Room...about the 'Collector'. Had he been the one to hurt her? A horrible gut wrenching sensation swept over him as his instincts told him he was onto something.
"What did he do to you?" he wondered aloud.
"You don't want to know," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes as she looked the other way. Her words struck a gong within Ratchet and his mind suddenly hardened. A curious feeling began pooling in his stomach, one of dread and anticipated hatred.
"What did he do to you?" he repeated a little louder, his grip tightening around her hand. All at once, he needed to know. He needed to know what...who had wounded Skyla so badly to incite such detestation.
Skyla glanced at him and her stomach spasmed in apprehension. The look in his eyes...it was so strong and powerful, like a storm was building behind them. She knew he wouldn't react well if she told him what she'd been put through. But at the same time...there was an insistence to his voice that told her he would not let this drop if she didn't answer now. He would find out, some way or another. She swallowed and looked down again so she wouldn't have to meet his eyes,
"He...that is, Baen...has punished me in...numerous ways over the years," she murmured.
"Punished you for what?" Ratchet asked, his voice low and cold.
"Oh, many things."
"Like...?"
"Like...disrupting work, attacking the guards...trying to escape."
"How did he punish you?" Anxiety clutched Skyla's heart at the hollow tone to his voice. Hesitantly, she listed several of the 'minor' penalties she'd suffered, omitting any from her 'Top 5'. From the corner of her eye she saw Ratchet tense up at her words, his hands curling into clenched fists. Her heart fluttered nervously, part of her thrilled he was reacting in such a way at things she considered minor. It showed that he cared. She was tempted to go on and tell him about the wasp larva of the viper venom but decided against it. From the looks of it, that would send him over the edge.
"He beat you?" Ratchet asked in disgusted disbelief, "with what?" Skyla shrugged,
"A whip, his hands, someone else's hands...it varied." Ratchet sucked in a breath and she just kept herself from giving him a somewhat amused look. To her, a beating was nothing. In fact, she'd often count herself lucky if Baen had her beaten rather than any other form of punishment. It made a nice change from being injected with toxic substances. A beating was usually less painful, took a shorter amount of time and was easier for Xavier to heal.
"That bastard," Ratchet hissed through gritted teeth. Skyla nearly laughed. Bastard was such an understatement where Baen was concerned. Demon seemed far more appropriate. Instead, she coughed and made a noise she hoped sounded like an agreement. There was a short pause and she covered her mouth to keep from smiling. She wasn't sure why, but this whole situation was suddenly extremely amusing to her. Maybe she was going mad.
"There's something you're not telling me," muttered Ratchet and Skyla looked up at him. Instantly, she realised her mistake as his eyes widened at the mirth in her gaze. He regarded her with thoughtful dread,
"What aren't you telling me?" he whispered dangerously. Skyla's heart skipped a beat and the humour fell from her face like an autumn leaf. Her throat closed up at his expression and she even started to feel afraid. She couldn't lie, he would know, but on the other hand, how could she tell the truth? At first she'd been pleased how he'd reacted...now she was worried. If he found out the truth...she wasn't sure what he would do, but she was sure it wouldn't be good. In a mild panic she shrugged and turned away from him, hoping he wouldn't press her for an answer.
No such luck. Gentle but firm fingers gripped her chin and turned her head back to him. And there they were, the two green orbs ready to trap her in their intense gaze,
"Tell me," he murmured in a low voice. It sounded more like an order than a request, and one she found difficult to refuse. Skyla held the contact, weighing up in her mind how he would react. In all honesty, he would find out sooner or later the extent to which Baen had hurt her, but did she want him to find out now? His eyes were willing, no begging her to speak and she knew that there was no way she could avoid it now. Opening her mouth, she began to speak. And she told him. Not everything, but it was enough.
A dark cloud descended over Ratchet as she spoke and she felt her worry increase as his features took on a dangerous look, filling with rage and anger.
When she was done, she stopped and waited apprehensively for his reaction, her anxiety increasing with each passing second when he just looked at her. It felt like he was a tidal wave slowly building to a climax, on the brink of breaking over her.
"Ratchet?" her voice sounded so small next to him, like the cry of a child in the midst of a howling storm. But he heard her. She watched with wonder as the rage in his eyes melted away, the anger subsiding as he swallowed the feelings, gulping them down to simmer in his belly. He gave her a strained smile,
"I'm afraid you're going to have competition to kill him," he told her hoarsely. Skyla laughed. There was little else she could do. Her nerves were still on tenterhooks but she forced herself to relax,
"Sorry. First come, first served," she chuckled in reply, but the sound was empty and hollow. Ratchet grinned, but it was a somewhat terrifying grin that she wasn't quite sure what to make of...but it sent a thrilling jolt through her at the promise it held.
"We'll see about that," he replied and Skyla could have sworn there were butterflies in her stomach. Suddenly, he sobered completely and looked at her seriously, all trace of twisted mirth gone, "but I still want you to promise me you won't do anything stupid." Skyla's ears drooped slightly and she looked down,
"Wanting revenge isn't stupid," she muttered to the floor.
"I know, I just want to know that you won't do...anything you might regret," he said as carefully as he could.
"Have you ever killed someone?" Skyla suddenly asked, her eyes flicking up to meet his own with a slight challenge to them. Ratchet shook his head,
"That's not important..."
"How many?"
"Skyla," Ratchet took her hand again, an element of pleading to his voice, "please, Skyla, just promise me that when we go in there tomorrow, you won't let ideas of revenge cloud your judgement. You will have justice, I promise...just...wait." Skyla looked at him, her brow furrowed as her eyes filled with pain and aching anger. Justice. Justice dealt with what was right and saw that things were fair. But she was willing to bet that Baen would never even get half of what he deserved.
"It won't be enough," she croaked. Ratchet's grip on her hand tightened and he pulled her other one to him, weaving his fingers through her open as he cradled them to him,
"I know," he told her earnestly, "but still...promise me. Please." Skyla glanced down at their joined hands and the way they slotted together so perfectly, like cloth woven into fine fabric...as if they were made for each other. She swallowed and took a moment to rein in her feelings, suppressing her impatience for revenge.
"I will try," she murmured eventually, then met his eyes briefly, "for you." Ratchet's face lightened and a gentle smile broke out on his face like the first rays of light from the morning sun.
"That's all I'm asking," he whispered, impulsively brushing his lips against the back of her hands. She watched him intently and for a moment he was held captive by the extraordinary blue of her eyes. There was still pain, and anger, and hate...but there was also hope, and a willingness to do as he asked and hold back. And he could see it was tough, he could see she was struggling to contain the hate, but his heart went out to her as his mind came to the conclusion - she was holding back for him. Affection for the grey Lombax washed over him in waves and he wanted to hug her all over again, to feel her in his arms...
But before he could act on those thoughts, Skyla yawned widely, pulling away her hands to cover her mouth like Maia had taught her.
"Excuse me," she mumbled, her voice slightly muffled. His window of opportunity missed, Ratchet simply smiled,
"I think it's time for bed." Skyla nodded as another yawn escaped her. Rising to his feet, Ratchet set his cold tea aside and offered her his hand. She took it tentatively and he helped her to her feet.
They both left the Observation Lounge, heading for the quarters that Maia and Skyla had been assigned. Neither of them spoke as they traversed the darkened corridors of the Phoenix, and they encountered no other being on their journey. When they arrived at the girl's quarters, Skyla opened the door to reveal a basic living space, with two beds, one of which was occupied by a sleeping Maia. Skyla turned to Ratchet,
"Good night," she murmured with a smile. Ratchet leaned against the door frame,
"Sleep well, we've got a big day ahead tomorrow, or rather...today," he added, as it was well past midnight. Skyla nodded,
"See you...later." She stepped across the threshold, then hesitated, looking at him as if she wanted to say something more. Ratchet swallowed,
"Sweet dreams," he whispered in a low voice. Skyla smiled, but there was an element of confusion to it and her eyes lowered. She began to turn away, then paused once again, glancing back at him, her mouth opening as if to say something. Then, the doors slid shut.