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Callahan and Durandal had gone planetside almost an hour ago, in response to a UESC distress signal. By the time they had shown up, Roland’s assumption was proven correct, the Phfor battleship clear as day in the light of the nearby sun.
Callahan had asked him with barely concealed reluctance if he would be willing to join him and Durandal on the mission. He declined.
He needs to have a word with his "partner."
The distant android hasn’t said a word to him since he had woken up days ago. Roland learned a long time ago that Joyeuse only speaks when necessary. Normally, he’d be grateful for some quiet from the constant voice in his ear. Nothing about any of this is normal, however. Not for him, anyway.
Especially since Joyeuse has been staring at Callahan.
Joyeuse is seated in the captain’s chair, completely still. The Rozinante ’s controls flicker in front of him, curving around to surround him in a U. Save for the light show on the dash, the bridge is pitch black. The cold air chills his skin, and Roland contemplates leaving to go put on his armor, but decides against it, choosing rather to enjoy a reprieve from the plates on his skin for the moment. Roland shifts in the corner he’s perched himself in, away from the bridge center and faint glow.
Not like he’s trying to hide. He knows better than to try and hide from his eyes. Even closed and looking away, Roland knows they are watching his every move. Underneath the synthetic eyelids, his artificial eyes race back and forth. He must be relaying information to the others groundside.
Having an all-seeing, all-knowing AI for an ally certainly has its perks.
The silence gnaws his stomach.
Joyeuse’s whisper deafen his ears. “There is something on your mind.”
Roland does not respond immediately. He contemplates speaking at all, fully aware Joyeuse knows exactly what he’s going to say.
Unwillingly, his throat croaks, “You should have let me kill him.”
Joyeuse does not move as he speaks with the same deadpan tone. “You would not have killed him even if I had not intervened.”
Roland snorts, finding bitter amusement in the statement.
“You know I am right.”
You always are , he almost says, but he bites his tongue before uttering the truth. As much as it makes him seethe to admit it, the kid had kicked his ass. Ever since he’d recovered, he’d been sulking like a damn child. It’s not like he’s been knocked down before. Hell, had any other man been in his place, they’d have died a long time ago.
What’s really tearing his insides is the way Callahan had fought.
He was fast. Too fast. Enough so to dodge his blows, a feat no one had ever done in the years he’d been fighting Pfhor. Roland knew this fight was going to be different when he got back up from his first punch.
He shouldn’t have been surprised, considering the circumstances.
Then his arm had stopped working, and Callahan glassed his eye.
He forgot entirely about the impostor with Durandal’s voice and name.
The only thing that was running through his mind after that was survival.
Roland hadn’t felt panic like that in a long, long time. Nor had he ever wanted to kill someone more. Not since Tycho.
He finally speaks. “This is all wrong. Callahan, Durandal…” He struggles to say the planet’s name. “L’howon. None of it makes any sense.”
“You must open your eyes, Roland. I know you are smart enough to realize where you are.”
The answer had been obvious the moment he laid eyes on the duo. “We’re in the wrong timeline, aren’t we.”
“There is no such thing. You are simply lost.”
“Then what are we doing here, Joy? Why the hell are we tagging along with…” Roland exhales, the knot in his chest finally loosening. He doesn’t bother finishing his sentence.
Joy answers softly, “The two are most remarkable.”
Roland frowns. “I wouldn’t call them that.”
“Of all the timelines I see, this one always intrigues me the most.” His form twitches slightly, so subtle that Roland barely catches it in the dark. “I find Vincent interesting, to say the least.”
“Having the hots for a robot is interesting alright.”
“Their affection bothers you?”
Roland doesn’t answer. “Why do you bother asking if you already know what I’m gonna say?”
Joyeuse finally turns to face him, the android’s red eyes eerily glowing against the dim glow of the ship controls.
“It is more comforting for you.”
Roland would laugh if he wasn’t so irritated. Instead, he coughs harshly. “Funny.”
The android turns back around, eyes facing the viewport and the planet below. “He reminds me of you, you know.”
That surprises him considerably. “No, I don’t.”
“He is strong, courageous to the point of being suicidal, and loyal. And he cares for his AI partner. As much as you try to pretend you despised Durandal, we both know that is not the case.”
“You don’t know a damn thing.”
Joyeuse bows his head slightly.
“I wish I did.”
Roland feels slight regret at being so harsh, but shoves the feeling down.
“Don’t get too close with him,” he warns.
Joyeuse actually chuckles, which takes Roland aback. “You should be above jealousy, Roland. It is unbecoming of you.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You are. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” Joyeuse turns again, and Roland can see a soft smile on his lips. “I’m not leaving you. I cannot leave you, not yet. Whether that comforts you or not, I will let you decide.” He turns back. “Besides, Vincent has all the guidance he’ll ever need. You’re still lost, old friend, and I’m here to make sure you find the right path.”
In between all the times he shouts or curses the AI, Roland sometimes realizes he doesn’t have anyone except for Joy. Had the AI not have found him when he did…
He rubs his skin, pushing away faint memories of it being pulled off by Pfhor surgical machines.
A chime comes from the dash.
“They have returned.”