Of all responsibilities and duties bestowed upon a captain, and subsequently all proper response protocols and judgements, none coincided with Sale's current reaction. From the weapon she so freely brandished as a ward against Rocket, to the unexplained, fractured emotional state, it was undeniable to Rocket that the captain's mental affairs were far from ordered.
He lied in silence for no more than a minute as the female rested behind him, still frozen in her emotions, until finally, slowly so as to not cause an undue reaction from the captain, he rose to a position on his knees, turning towards the captain to see her gazing upon the flame of the blowtorch. Tears welled in her eyes, more so than was elicited from the irritation derived from gazing upon an open flame.
She watched entranced at the fire, wasting the battery of the device. Whatever inspiration, horror, amazement, despair, or contemplation was derived from receiving the device left the captain lost in her thoughts. Her breaths, though slow and deep, still quivered, her fur standing on end. She'd maintained a rather objective, authoritative shell throughout his stay, save for small breaks in what was clearly a facade, yet here she, likely unintentionally, presented her emotional discord without barrier.
Rocket turned towards the captain, staying on his knees to remain at eye level. He was ill suited to this situation. On matters of objectivity, he thrived. Machines and other devices capable of disassembly and reassembly were a particularly comfortable field of study, but the unpredictable, sporadic nature of psychology was entirely disassociated from engineering. Comparison was a typical avenue for understanding, and as such, he attempted to divine the situation if his presence were swapped with the otter's.
Emotional turmoil was far from infrequent back in their cage. Despair, anger, irritation, and other such destructive sensations were, however common, just as consistently distinguished before the otter's guidance and reassurance. Though, this comfort was wrought, at least in part, from longstanding friendship, not simple wording. That core facet of consolation was notably lacking in the relationship between him and the captain. Regardless, an attempt was warranted, and after a deep breath, taking a moment to find the words, the male raccoon spoke.
"...I didn't mean to wake you."
Her eyes were interrupted from their unblinking gaze upon the flame, meeting Rocket's puzzled, concerned expression. She stared at him for a moment, her body still frozen, though her hands subtly shook, lacking the sturdy metallic gloves to suppress the natural physical ailment. Her paralysis gave way to a more pervasive confusion, her mind returned to the situation at hand, though no further prepared to parse it.
"No, I'm… I'm a light sleeper, but you…" She paused for a moment, though didn't break eye contact "You shouldn't be out here."
Rocket, so soon reminded of his disobedience, shrunk back momentarily. Regardless, unwarranted action, provided it furthered the studies of the scientists facilitating his experiments, furthered their curiosity, and was similarly rewarded with praise and attention from his primary captor. Such encouragement was distinctly lacking within the captain, her face slowly shifting from confusion to her typical seriousness, paired, unfortunately, with annoyance.
"You needed something, so I made it for you. I… can take it apart if you need the parts."
Rocket didn't give in to disappointment so soon, instead hoping to clarify himself to derive at least some manner of gratitude or praise from the captain. Regardless, he found none.
"No… it doesn't matter why you left. You weren't supposed to leave the medical bay, you knew that."
"Yeah, but-"
"No-" She shook her head "-no. You can't disobey your captain."
Her diligence towards rules and the chain of command was understandable, though Rocket found her importance as a captain somewhat lacking. She was far from impregnable, at least in an emotional sense. Her attempts at authority seemed similarly lacking, providing direction only in his directionless state, though suppressing any attempt at autonomy.
"I need to know that I can trust you, and if you refuse to-" She paused, finding a more palatable wording for her desires "-if you won't follow orders, then I don't know if I can."
Rocket felt increasingly crestfallen at her unending persistence towards reprimanding, including in which the ignorance of his achievement. At this, he decided on a more forward approach.
"Do you want it or not?"
She paused, staring down at the blowtorch for a moment. Strangely, rather than gratitude, she displayed a conflicted emotion. It took her a moment to display what should be an obvious conclusion. She inhaled to speak, though paused and exhaled through her nose, calming down her berating rhetoric.
"It's helpful. Thank you. But it's not about what. Listen, just… I'm going to go get ready. We don't have a lot of time left. Please don't mess around with anything while I'm gone, alright?"
Rocket felt insulted at her referring to his actions as 'messing around'. He'd performed these acts of the express purpose of aiding her, and yet she seemed to hold no value in them. Even her 'thank you' felt obligatory. Regardless, Rocket agreed and she began to prepare for her outing.
She acquired an assortment of items, including the various metallic adornments attached to her uniform, her usual handgun as well as its holster, even a backpack of sorts with assortments of pouches and containers, some of which she filled with additional batteries for her handgun, though the rest mostly remained empty, likely to store any items she found worth keeping while within the compound. The only item of note was a collection of metallic syringes, far sturdier than the type found in a medical setting, which she explained upon inquiry to contain a performance enhancing drug.
"Are you not gonna take the armor?"
"No. That's only useful for close quarters. It's way too slow to move quickly. Also, I'm going to be disabling every automated system within the facility, and that includes temperature regulation. The area around the facility is currently exposed to the nearest star, so that building is gonna get real hot real fast. It's already risky, but if I have to carry around that much armor, I'll definitely go into heat exhaustion."
"Alright…"
Rocket was hesitant to let the conversation end. He knew what he wanted to ask, yet their sour interaction from earlier still left a lingering distaste on their relationship. The ship slowly lowered down onto the planet, taking advantage of a gap in the near constant storms, and yet the topography was far from inhabitable regardless. The environment sat firmly beneath the baking sun. Rocks, dull in color from years of being sun bleached, coated the surface, of which Rocket measured about a quarter mile from themselves and the facility.
Sale initiated some manner of digital influence onto the facility using the ship's console, then stood up from her chair, finally prompting Rocket to speak up.
"...Can I come?"
"What?" She paused, turning towards Rocket, as if uncertain of what she just heard. "No."
Rocket was initially disappointed by the decision, but he pushed the issue, wishing to utilize his new weapon and his practice. "Listen, I know it's dangerous, but I'll be careful, alright?"
"Still, no."
"Listen, I'm sorry for sneaking out, alright? And for ruining the battery earlier."
"That's not what this is about. You're just not ready for something like this."
"Well… Then when will I be ready?"
"I don't know. Hopefully you'll never have to be. You shouldn't want to do this."
"We're doing this to get rid of my tracker, aren't we? Shouldn't I at least contribute?"
"Just because we're doing this for your sake does not mean you have to be the one to do it."
"I'm not just gonna wait in the ship while you're actually doing something useful."
"That's exactly what you're going to do. I'm the captain, I'm supposed to look out for you, while you do what I say." She grew increasingly annoyed at his persistence.
"So what then? You do everything while I just wait to say thank you?"
She paused, gritting her teeth for a moment. "I bet it felt good, shooting those two guards back on Counter Earth. I bet it made you feel powerful, right? More powerful than you'd ever felt? And now you want it again. To feel powerful."
She approached him in an accusatory manner, speaking again before he had time to respond.
"That's not what this is about. This isn't about therapy or justice. This is about survival. The people down there want to survive just as much as you do, and if you throw yourself at them thinking you'll just get to feel powerful again, then you're only going to get yourself killed. You are alive because you got lucky, and I'm not going to let you throw that away for nothing."
Rocket's features tensed up. He was alive because of the death of Batch 89, and her diminishment of their deaths lit a fire in his chest. While she and began to walk off, he spoke again.
"So you just saved me so I could sit on the ship and do nothing forever?"
"Would you rather get dissected?"
"I would rather have my friends! I would rather have my own ship with them!"
"You can't bring them back, Rocket, and neither can I."
"You're right, you can't bring them back…" Rocket paused, his hands tensed into fists. He thought deeply about whether to say his next few words, uncertain the reaction it would elicit, but his emotions eventually won out. "...but you had no problem taking them away!"
She stopped her stride as he spoke, her body tensing up while her fur visibly stood on end. Her hands tensed into fists, and she soon turned towards Rocket, walking back to him at an angered pace while she bared her gritted teeth. Rocket tried to remain confident, though he took an instinctive step back as she approached. She grabbed the chest of his shirt, pulling him close as she spoke.
"I didn't pull the trigger." Her voice was deep, laden with an angered growl, and spoken through gritted teeth.
"You're the reason we were in that cage! If I had my own ship, I could've escaped with them, and they'd still be alive! But you took that away! You ruined the chances of everyone who came after you, and for what?! So you could get your crew killed?!" He knew his words were needlessly harsh.
Her eye resonated with fire. Any emotions she'd felt prior were outshined by the rage currently brewing inside her. He attacked her most emotionally vulnerable side, and yet, as she breathed through gritted teeth, she did not speak. She only held him there for a few more seconds, before she closed her mouth and took a deep breath.
"You're right." She released the hold on his shirt. "I got my crew killed. I got every other experiment killed. I even got your friends killed. Every hour of every day you spent in those cages, all because of me."
She wasn't spiteful, proud, or angry. Her fury extinguished until she displayed only a sorrowful solemnity.
"And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way you were treated. I'm sorry I couldn't see what would happen after I escaped. If I could trade my life for the lives of your friends, I would… but I can't. I can't go back and change what's happened, no matter how often I wish for nothing more than that opportunity. I'd go back and change everything if I could,-"
She stepped back, shaking her head while maintaining eye contact.
"-but I can't. All I can do is try not to make the same mistakes, and to try and help the only other experiment that escaped that planet. There's nothing left for me, but that, and I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you throw it away. If you want to go and martyr yourself and take a few of the scientists out with you, go ahead, but do it after I'm gone…"
She turned away and began to leave, speaking only once more
"...You won't have to wait long anyway."
