Chptr 21: Secrets and survival

Sargasso airspace. 0700 hours
Jasmine swam through dark seas. There was darkness around her, darkness above her, black as the depths of space. She hung in the grip of darkness, floating in it like water. Moving forward was easy. The blackness parted from her with ease. Moving back was like swimming through thick treacle. She floated onwards. The deeper into the black she got, the more the burning pain in her body faded. It was warm, and dark, and silent, and peaceful. All the worries in her head seemed to slip away from her. She didn't know where she was going. All she knew was that she wanted to get there.
"Jasmine?"
Her head jerked up. She knew that voice!
"Come here, baby. We've been waiting for you."
She swam faster, happy tears trickling down her face. She suddenly felt ground beneath her feet. Looking down, she couldn't see anything. She seemed to be standing on thin air.
"Jasmine?"
She looked up. Two Lombaxes stood arm in arm, smiling at her. The male was large and muscular, with coal black fur and bright blue eyes. The female was a soft caramel brown, warm purple eyes sparkling. She wore Praetorian Guard armour, with the badge denoting a Lieutenant.
Her family.
"Mama? Papa?"
They nodded. She had last seen them in the spirit woods. She hadn't thought she'd see them again. Her father smiled. He wore the armour of the Fierce 500, Fastoon's top air force unit.
"Good to see you again, sweet heart."
"Same to you, Dad. So is this...it?"
"Seems to be."
"I...think I'm ready."
Her mother gently took Jasmines hand and and smiled.
"We've been waiting for you. We'll move on together."
"Does it...does it hurt?" Her voice was quiet, and scared.
"It's just like stepping into another room." said her father. "The only difference being, when you yell 'Has anyone seen my good socks?' no one answers you."
Jasmine chuckled. It was clear where a lot of her humour had come from. The only thing to remind her of the father she had never known was an old photo of her parents before she was born. She still had it somewhere, back in her barracks. One of her greatest regrets growing up was that she had never met him, would never have a chance to. Their last meeting in the spirit woods had been brief, just long enough to say goodbye, really, and now peace filled her as she prepared to step forward to whatever came next, her family by her side...
And something stopped her. She gasped in shock, and struggled against the invisible grip, inexorably pulling her back. She could make out a voice on the cusp of hearing.
"_{No you don't, Missy. I ain't losing you. Come on back to me. It ain't your time yet.}"
She fought against it, desperate to stay with her family. Her parents were falling away from her as she was dragged on, reaching out for her sadly.
"Mama! Papa! No!"
Then there was confusion. And light. And pain.
And a cool, damp cloth on her brow.
She moaned, struggling to open eyelids that suddenly seemed to weigh tons.Finally, she willed them open with an effort. There was a gray blur above her, which gradually coalesced into a friendly, bearded face.
"There you are! You had me worried for a bit!"
She blinked owlishly at him. Her revival had been like being born again, hauled from soothing, dark warmth into the noise and confusion of life, and she was uncertain even of her name right now. Her rescuer smiled, eyes twinkling over half moon glasses. She had no idea what species he was. His skin was gray, small spikes dotted his head and shoulders, and the strong hands that gently helped her to a sitting position had only three fingers. A cup of water was pressed to her lips and she gulped it down gratefully. She hadn't realised how thirsty she was. The world started to swim back into focus, and she started to pick up the little details, like the strong smell of cleaning products, her rescuers faded overalls and the gentle vibrating of a ship floor beneath her. She tried to speak, the only thing coming out a sound between a rattle and a cough. She tried again.
"How long..I out...? she croaked.
"Most of the night, I reckon. It's only just morning now."
She went to move, and bit back a scream as searing pain ripped through her chest. Her rescuer laid her back down gently.
"'Fraid you won't be comfy for a while. I used up every bit of nano-tech I had on you, but some bits probably aren't quite healed yet. You may wanna take it easy."
She growled and heaved herself up until she was sitting with her back against the ship hall, ignoring the pain.
"The day...I lie down on duty...is the day...you can put me to bed...with a shovel..." she said, through gritted teeth. She looked down and gasped. Her armour was gone. She was dressed in the white tank top and black shorts she wore underneath it.
"Where's my armour?"
He sighed, and bent down to a heap of what Jasmine had first taken for a heap of scrap metal. He held a piece up, and her heart sank.  It was her armour. Her breastplate had broken into nearly two pieces, her gloves were missing large chunks, even her boots were cracked. The armour was important to a Guard. It was a part of them. For Jasmine, it was like watching the death of an old, old friend.
"If it's any consolation, I found your wrench." It landed at her feet with a clang. "These too." Her hover wings and the storage compartment that had been on her breastplate followed.
"Thanks." She held out a hand. "I'm Jasmine."
He carefully shook it, trying not to bump her too much.
"Pleased ta meetcha. Most folk just call me the Plumber."

The Plumber was impressed. An hour ago, the young Lombax sitting across from him in the back of his space van had been an inch from death. Now she was sitting cross legged, bolt upright, with a blanket over her shoulders and a warm cup of Breegus nectar tea. When he had first seen her, he wouldn't have given two bolts for her chances. He had stopped on Quantos to do some repairs to his van. He had heard a kerfuffle coming from a distant cliff, and had looked up in time to see a dark shape falling from the cliff top. He had driven his van over as fast as it would go, arriving to find a young black Lombax draped limply over a rock at the bottom of a waterfall, soaked to the skin and bleeding from a nasty chest wound. He had thought she was dead at first. No-one could live with those injuries. He had sadly picked her up, planning on taking her away for a proper burial, and she had stirred in his arms.
Against all odds, she had still harboured a small, flickering spark of life. It had taken hours of patient nursing to turn that spark into a flame.
Now, Jasmine sipped at the hot tea he had made her. It was thick and sweet, and seemed to put more life back into her. She was definitely starting to feel better. Despite the fact she had never met him before, she felt quite safe. He had the same feeling around him of Uncle Tobias, that of the kind of grandfather you always wished you had. She felt she could trust him enough to tell her story, taking care to leave out anything about the Zenithi.
"Then the last I remember, she'd fired at me. After that, it's all kinda dark."
"Let me tell you, Missy, you are one lucky Lombax. If I hadn't found you would have died for sure."
"Yeah. I owe you one for that." She gave him a thoughtful look. Somehow, something about him didn't quite add up.
"You know, I think Ratchet mentioned a plumber who always seemed to be where he was. Said it was strange."
"Did he now?"
"Yeah. Said you always seemed to be there with exactly the right advice or tool. Like a 3 and 3 quarters centicubit-"
"-Hexagonal washer." the Plumber finished. "Can't get nothing past you, can I?"
"What's the deal? How do you know what to do or say?" She was already pretty sure she knew, but it pays to check.
"Oh, I just do my best to help people out. I've always enjoyed helping people. One of the reasons I'm a plumber. Cuz believe me, when your toilets broke, nothing lifts your spirits more than seeing someone who knows how to fix it."
She frowned.
"Cut the crap, will ya?"
"Excuse me?"
She had her theory. Time to chance her arm.
"You work for the Zenithi, don't you?"
There was silence. He held her steady gaze, trying to stare her out, but Jasmine could out-stare a mirror. He looked away and grinned.
"You're one sharp cookie, Missy. How'd ya guess?"
"I'd never have figured it out if I hadn't know about them, but its the only explanation that makes sense. They would have needed some way to help Ratchet without him noticing. What better way than to hide than in plain sight?"
"There's a lot more to it than that, Missy. Yes, I serve the Zenithi. So did my father. And his father. And his father before that. As far back as you can go. Sometimes the Zenithi need someone to do the things they can't, and our family has been honoured with that role for generations. Not every mission of theirs can be done in secret. They need someone who can go out among others and not raise suspicions. It's kind of a family tradition to take jobs that let you get around without being noticed. Like a plumber. People need 'em, but they don't often think about 'em. Till their toilet backs up, o' course. I can be gathering information in a secure building, and I guarantee you, no one'll look at me twice. I'm just a jolly old plumber. I'm no one important. Over the past few years, the Zenithi have been getting me to keep an eye on Ratchet. You know, see to it he travels the right path. I wasn't too impressed with the lad at first. He seemed too impulsive. Too rash. You could see he was just in it for the thrill. Over the years, though, he's definitely changed. Lads a true hero. It's vital he stays on the right track. It could have big consequences for history if he doesn't. Besides the fact we won't have any more history."
"History?" Jasmine was confused. The Zenithi had only mentioned the Balance. They'd said nothing about history.
"There's more to their job than just the Balance. Various acts influence it and in turn, are influenced by it. Its quite complicated. I don't know if I can explain it in a way you'll understand..."
"Try me."
"You see, there's what does happen. And then, there is what's meant to happen. The two aren't always the same thing. So that the Balance is maintained and history takes the right path, the Zenithi have to make sure that what happens is right. Often it don't take much. A bolt out of place on a ship. A note reaching its destination in time, one little thing in the right place and time can have huge effects. History, time and the Balance. All are interconnected. Time is there for history to happen in, history effects the Balance in certain ways, and the Balance makes sure both can happen in the right ways. Sure, time is important, and the Zoni do a pretty big job looking after it, but the Balance is the big tapestry on which everything is woven. One loose or torn thread, and the whole thing could unravel. What I've told you ain't exactly right, but it's as close to the truth as we can get and still understand it."
"Drake didn't tell us this."
"He probably figured you had enough on your plate already without wasting time explaining it. Don't get angry at him, though. The Zenithi believe the truth can be bent, but never broken. He never lied to you, he just didn't tell you everything."
"Well, where is he? Can you call him? I need to get back to my mission!"
The Plumber shook his head.
"Sorry, Missy. I don't call the Zenithi. They come to me. Often I can go months without seein' 'em."
"So where am I exactly?"
"Sargasso, around the Geletonium Refinery. They have some problems with their valves."
"Sargasso, huh?" She thought for a while, finger tapping on her mug. "That's useful...Pretty sure her strongholds a bit further north from here. Not that I plan on tussling with her, but there's bound to be a few Zenithi hanging around there. Maybe I can hitch a lift back to Elysium with one."
"You're leaving now?"
"Yep."
Jasmine got to her feet, blanket slipping to the floor. She threw on her hoverwings, shoved her storage compartment in her pocket and grabbed her wrench. The nano-tech had fully taken effect. She felt as good as she was going to get.
"But you're still injured!"
"Never felt better." she said, sliding the van door open. They were in the air above the Refinery. A breeze wound in through the open door, blowing her hair around her face.
"You've got no armour!"
"I'll dodge."
He scratched his head in bemusement and wonder.
"Well, I guess it really is true what they say. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
"Oh no, Mr Plumber." She turned, looked him dead in the eye and smiled. It was cold and utterly humourless. The Plumber could almost feel sorry for Kaos...
"Whatever doesn't kill me, had better start running."
She activated her wings and leapt.