Chapter 25 ~ Loved Ones
Roslyn's POV
I recall when I first enlisted in the Praetorian Guard, at the age of fourteen. The guard required discipline, and of course, no small amount of patience, neither of which really were my forté back then. The endurance tests - and other trivial tasks we were assigned to complete - were taxing, but they couldn't compare to how long I spent waiting by the door for my acceptance letter; to hear whether or not I was going to be part of the guard, part of one of the very few traditions that survived Tachyon's assault, and to be trained for this very adventure, the exploration of the Lombax origin dimension.
Though I must confess, it feels more like a rescue mission than an adventure right now. The ultimate test for any warrior worth their salt.
The incident at the museum is now nearly a week ago. At this point, the media had spread the news like a wildfire in the universe's driest forest. Scratch that, a forest of dead, dried wood. From the involvement of Gears and Harlequinn, to the missing Dimensionator, the media covered it all as if there was nothing else to talk about. People were scared; after all, nobody knew what Gears and Harlequinn wanted exactly, or why. Though one thing was certain: time was running out. Not for Kathryn, no, but for the dimensionator. It was broken when it was stolen, but who knows how long it'll take for them to fix it, or worse, to improve it? Though I doubt that that ragtag group of perpetually drunk, walking scrap heaps that Harlequinn keeps as minions will be much help there.
But when they inevitably get the dimensionator to function, their true plans will be made clear, as well as who exactly is behind it. And yet, despite this imminent catastrophe, here I am, sitting in the Apogee Space Station, playing what I am convinced is the worst waiting game of my life.
Ultimately I just couldn't take it anymore. "I hate this!" I shouted, abruptly disturbing the peace and quiet of Ratchet and Flynn, who were sitting behind me, competing in some kind of holo-game. They both pretty much jumped, startled by my outburst.
"I mean, how hard is it to send coordinates? We need to save Kat, and to get back the dimensionator! It's not like those stupid pirates are going to stay loyal! After all, their captain left them! Left them!"
At this point, I had sprung up, and was pacing through the room. I then noticed Ratchet hand Flynn a couple of bolts. I'd be lying if I'd say that I wasn't surprised that they were betting on me, but it certainly didn't do well for my already sour mood. Although I felt the urge to shout their ears off, I ultimately decided to just let them, and stormed out of the room, grumbling under my breath.
"Where are you going?" I heard Flynn ask through his translator. "To go train, I need to hit something!" I shouted back at him. I could feel eyes drilling into my back as I got out of there.
Third-person POV
Although Ratchet waited until long after Roslyn had disappeared from view, he planned to go after her the second she stormed off. It'd mean losing to Flynn, but he cared as much about that right then as a Sandshark cares about lettuce. Flynn had been losing before Roslyn's outburst, but was now steadily gaining the upper hand, a consequence of Ratchet's sudden lack of focus.
Ultimately Ratchet cut the knot and paused the game. Flynn looked up at him in frustration. "What's the big idea, man? You don't get to pause the game just because you're getting your ass kicked for once!" Flynn yelled, although his expression turned from irritation to somberness when he realized that Ratchet wasn't even listening. He tapped on Ratchet's shoulder to get his attention.
"Dude, trust me on this: leave her alone and let her cool off for a bit. Come on, let's finish this game real quick," Flynn said, handing Ratchet his controller. Hesitantly, Ratchet took the controller, though he didn't unpause the game, instead casting glances over his shoulder at the hallway that Roslyn had disappeared into. Flynn sighed. "Ratchet, I'm serious. Don't go after her."
"Why?" Ratchet asked with slight irritation as he unpaused the game, determined to make Flynn eat his confidence. Flynn remained calm and focused and answered Ratchet's question with one of his own. "So, she told you that she's Alister Azimuth's daughter, right?"
Instantly Ratchet's mood worsened. "What does that have to do with anything?" he barked as he continued to lose - badly - to Flynn. "Everything, dude!" Flynn replied. "Rosie has had problems with patience ever since she was a kid. Sometimes that impacience would turn into anger, an anger that she never fully managed to conquer. An Azimuth family trait, or so my old man told me."
As much as Ratchet wanted to dismiss Flynn's judgement, he knew better. Alister, for as long as he knew him, though compassionate and kind, also had a fierce temper, one not unlike the one Roslyn seemed to display occasionally. "But what would she be so angry about?" Ratchet asked.
Flynn let out some weird amalgam of a scoff and a chuckle. "More like who. When she first learned who her father was, she began to hate everything related to the Azimuth name, her father more than anything. Then, when Rosie wanted to be more independent, she hated Leah for a while. On occasion, she hates her race for how they treated her, or for all the messed-up rules they have regarding the past, and now she's angry at herself, more than ever, and you know it, too."
The round finally ended, with the game naming Flynn as the winner, much to Ratchet's chagrin, but Flynn didn't cheer as he normally would when winning a game. Instead, he put down his controller and turned to face Ratchet. "Look, I know you like Roslyn."
Instantly Ratchet's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and he fumbled for an excuse to dismiss Flynn's statement, but Flynn was faster. "I've seen how you look at her dude, and really, I get it, Rosie's a beautiful woman and always has been, but behind that pretty face is a badass ex-sergeant who can take care of herself. She always has, and she always will."
Ratchet wanted to respond; wanted to say that he already knew this. He knew that she could take care of herself, but that didn't mean that she had to; not when he or anyone else there would drop whatever they were doing to help her. Okay, perhaps not everyone would go that far, but Ratchet certainly would. After all, Flynn had said it himself: he cared about Roslyn, deeply he might add. He knew he wasn't in love with Roslyn, but he was definitely infatuated with her despite her flaws. The same couldn't be said about Roslyn though; even if she trusted him and cared for him, this didn't mean that she shared his feelings. Plus, if Ratchet didn't know any better, it still felt like Roslyn was keeping her distance from him.
"Well, what if she actually needs help, but doesn't ask for it?"
"Then you step in and help her, but only when you know for certain that she needs help and now is not one of those times. Trust me on this one. Besides, if you want to cheer her up, then I know a better way. Come on."
Flynn slapped Ratchet on the back before getting up and heading off towards the kitchen, in the direction opposite to the one Roslyn had gone. Even when Ratchet began to follow Flynn, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder occasionally, just in case Roslyn had changed her mind about not needing help. Not because he wanted to impress her, but because he wanted to show her that he'd be there for her if she ever needed someone. Ultimately he reached the kitchen, where Flynn was already digging through the cabinets in search of a sufficiently large bowl.
Roslyn's POV
I've always loved tinkering with existing gadgets and inventing new ones, not least because working up a good sweat also brings a unique sense of euphoria with it. It was nice that I wasn't disturbed by anyone, although I would've sworn that Ratchet was going to come after me, or at the very least check up on me, like he'd always done before. And yet, about half an hour later, I knew that I was mistaken, and that he wouldn't be coming to offer advice or at least be a sparring partner.