Six years ago…
"Well," Robin smiled, Ruth’s claws tickling against her throat as she was held against the wall. "This seems familiar."
"Shut up," Ruth growled. She’d already decided -- she wouldn’t let words get in the way of her job ever again.
This attack was much more audacious than their first attempt, but that was by necessity. After Ruth had ambushed the convoy to grab Robin the first ti, security had been stepped up, and now the Barridad brat was rarely allowed outside of her own private villa.
The only logical thing to do, then, was attack that private villa.
They were in the ruined conservatory, walls marked with deep claws and ceiling half-collapsed, Ruth holding Robin up against one of the few panes of glass that hadn’t been smashed in the battle. The bodies of Barridad’s suited goons were strewn around, many still clutching their pistols.
Robin’s smile shifted subtly into a frown. "Why are you doing the sa exact thing again? If you do things the sa way, you’ll end up with an identical result. You do understand that, don’t you?"
Ruth grinned viciously. "I’m not doing things the sa way. This ti, if you try anything, I’ll take your fingers."
The girl raised an eyebrow, infuriatingly calm. "My fingers?"
"Y-You don’t need fingers to live," Ruth muttered. There it was again -- whenever this Barridad girl questioned you, she had a way of making you feel foolish, making you question just what the hell you thought you were doing. It was annoying as hell.
"I know… but my fingers? If you’re going to kill , just kill . Don’t ss around with my hands. I need those.*
Finally losing her patience, Ruth pulled her captive away from the glass, whirling her around and beginning to bind her hands behind her back. "You need them," she growled. "We don’t. All we need is you alive."
"It’s a pretty day outside, isn’t it?" Robin asked -- from her new position, she could see outside the broken windows to look out at the thick jungle below. The sun hung high in the sky, and the sounds of insects and beasts filled the air. Mountains crowned the horizon.
Oh no, oh no no no. She was doing it again. She was about to use her goddamn words. "Shut up," Ruth demanded. "I’m serious -- I’ll actually kill you."
Robin smiled at her over her shoulder, as if they were good friends just hanging out.
"Okay," she laughed. "Actually kill , then."
Five years ago…
"Not so cocky now, are ya?" Ruth smirked, slamming Robin against the ground with one Aether-infused hand.
"You got ," Robin winced at the sudden impact, but the slam didn’t do any serious damage -- it hadn’t been intended to. "How are we playing this?"
"You’re coming with ."
"We both know I’m not. What do you want?"
Ruth hesitated. This ti, she’d grabbed Robin shortly after her return from one of her rare off-planet excursions -- the switch between the two different security teams had left her a brief window in which to act. She had to be quick, though -- the new team of guards would arrive before long.
"What I want," Ruth grunted, pulling Robin to her feet. "Is for you to co with ."
Robin sighed theatrically as she was yanked up before brushing the dust from her dress. There was no trace of anxiety or caution in her stance -- and even Ruth had to admit that, by this point, there was no reason for there to be any.
Threats beca less convincing the more you repeated them, after all.
"Co with you?" Robin asked, raising that infuriating eyebrow. "I’m sort of busy, I can’t. How about the usual exchange instead?"
Ruth hesitated for a mont, her claws lifted up. At what point had this beco the usual exchange? After the fourth failure, Grave had accepted this was all he was going to get when it ca to Robin Barridad, but had Ruth accepted that as well?
You could teach her otherwise, a nasty little voice inside her suggested. Bring down that claw and show her who’s boss.
But she couldn’t. She could never. She knew that, and Robin knew that. Those words she’d given to Ruth so long ago had beco a virulent poison:
"Hm… I suppose I must’ve thought you were a good person?"
That question, that damn question. It made you so badly want to prove it true.
Ruth replied, her voice an almost sullen croak: "The usual exchange."
As if she was ever going to say anything else. Robin put her hands on her hips and stood almost proudly, her smile wide.
"In three days ti," she said calmly. "My father’s going to be bringing in a shipnt of new supplies for his security forces. Rifles and mines for the jungle. They’re coming in at Hangar 3. If you hit it then, you can make things a lot easier for yourselves."
There it was -- Robin Barridad the traitor, leaking military secrets.
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Did she even understand what she was doing? The way she stood there, smiling innocently -- it was like she thought this was all just a ga. That she could play however she wanted without ever experiencing the consequences.
But she doesn’t experience consequences, Ruth reminded herself. You’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?
Four years ago…
The moon was beautiful that night. It hung above the villa, huge, casting it’s radiance down on the jungle below. It was almost like a spotlight shining on Ruth and Robin as they sat on the roof of the building, out of sight of any guards.
"You know what the most evil thing in the world is?" Robin asked, staring up at the satellite as she took a bite of a nutrient bar.
Ruth lay on her back, arms serving as a pillow as she stared up at the sky. Her punchpoint assault rifle lay on the roof next to her. "Nah," she said. "Tell ."
"Hope." Like it had so many tis recently, a shadow passed over Robin’s face -- and the moonlight seed to grow a little dimr as her smile faded.
Ruth blinked, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "That’s, uh… that’s kinda dark."
"It’s the truth," Robin shrugged, still looking up. "It’s the worst thing there is. Hope is like soone pulling you up out of the water -- and then letting you go right before you reach the surface. Sotis I think it’d be better just to get used to drowning."
From what Ruth understood, over the last couple of months, Admiral Barridad had been doing his utmost to arrange a political marriage for his daughter -- the Three Wise n had many children, and an alliance with the leaders of the Body would pretty much give Zed Barridad carte blanche for life. As a source of anxiety, it was as alien to Ruth as guns and bullets were to Robin, but she supposed everyone had their trials.
"If it was up to …" Robin began, before trailing off. "No, nevermind."
Ruth raised an eyebrow. "What?" she laughed.
"I said nevermind," Robin snapped.
Silence settled over the roof. Their conversations had been ending like this more and more often lately, casual chats suddenly crashing into a brick wall and stopping dead. This must be what it felt like, Ruth guessed, when real life beca real.
A few minutes passed in utter silence, save for the clicking of the insects and the creaking of the wood.
"It’s starting to rain," Robin muttered.
"Yeah."
Even with that, they didn’t move again for quite a while.
Three years ago...
"I’m serious," Robin’s voice was tinny, distorted over the radio. "This is the best chance you’ll get."
Ruth glanced towards Grave, the leader of the resistance sitting behind his desk as he considered Robin’s proposal. Over the course of the last three years, Robin Barridad had proved an invaluable inside source, but was her intelligence trusted enough to go this far?
When no reply was imdiate, Robin repeated herself as if she just hadn’t been heard: "He’s going hunting for that big paleobeast that rampaged through town. He’s excited about it -- he’s only taking a couple of guards -- it’ll be easy. If you ambush him, you can take him out."
Robin had said last year that hope was an evil thing, but in this case it seed that she was holding onto it with both hands. If her father died, she would be free to live her own life -- so getting her father killed was the best course of action for her. Ruth had no doubt that was what was going through her mind.
Graves’ finger tapped against his desk rhythmically as he considered the proposal. He’d wanted Barridad dead for years -- devoted a great deal of ti and resources to that task. Even before he spoke, Ruth knew there was no chance he’d let this slip through his fingers.
"Very well," Graves said finally. "We’ll split our forces into two teams: Ruth will act alone and extract you before the operation begins -- you’ll need to break away from your father at a prearranged location. The rest will wait at his entourage’s final destination to execute the ambush itself. Understand, Ruth?"
Ruth nodded, offering a clumsy salute. The fact that she’d given rcy to Robin Barridad had ceased to be a problem the mont it beca useful, but it was still surreal to see Rupert Graves so damn agreeable.
"I’ll send the details of the eting spot over as soon as I get the chance," Robin said, her voice giddy with excitent. "I’ll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay," Ruth grinned. The endless monotony of the resistance, sneaking through the jungle, had very suddenly erupted into fire and change. The excitent was contagious.
The radio clicked off, and that was the last ti she ever spoke to Robin Barridad.
Present day…
The sa dream again.
Ruth opened her eyes and -- without taking even a mont to properly wake up -- began stretching, noting with satisfaction every pop of her joints. As a guerilla fighter, you had to be ready to move at any ti. Sleep wasn’t rest, it was just ti that you were staying still, a mode you had to switch out of when it beca necessary.
Once she was satisfied she could move properly, Ruth stood up and began walking out of the cave she’d slept in. After they’d returned from Coren, the resistance had been forced to go on the run imdiately to avoid the Regulator forces -- which had led them to these tunnels.
With everything that had happened, there hadn’t been ti to talk -- but now Ruth could feel it. A familiar, cold weight in her chest: it was ti to face the music.
Lily Aubrisher was already waiting at the mouth of the tunnel, arms crossed as Ruth approached.
"I haven’t had ti to ask you yet," she said, but from the tone of her voice Ruth could tell she had no doubt about what had happened.
Well, that was no problem. Ruth rembered the lines to this production. "Ask what?"
You know, they’d say.
"You know," Lily muttered. "What I asked you to do. What you promised to do. Is Prester Garth dead?" Her gaze was twin daggers.
Ruth closed her eyes, sighed. Dragan had told her just to break her promise, that it’d be easy, but she got the feeling he wasn’t the kind of person who felt sha -- or, at least, he didn’t feel it like Ruth did. It bubbled in her stomach like lted butterflies.
"Ruth?" Despite the difference in their age, Ruth couldn’t help but hear Rupert Grave in Lily’s voice. They were one of a kind in at least that regard -- they were willing to do whatever it took to win.
And Ruth, as per usual, found herself dragged through the dirt behind them.
"He’s not dead," she finally muttered, thumping her fist against the rock wall in frustration. "There wasn’t any ti."
Lily didn’t say anything in reply. Instead, she simply sighed, glared at Ruth dismissively, turned and walked away. It was far more effective than any screaming rant could have been -- and so, so very familiar.
Welco ho, said the dripping of water from the stalactites.
Welco ho, said the far-off screeching of what might have been bats.
Welco ho, said the burning in her heart.
Welco ho, they said. Welco back.
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