"Far, Far Away..." - Part Four

Part Four

The alarms faded.

Not completely—but enough.

Far enough away that the blaster fire no longer echoed through every corridor.

Far enough that, for the first time since running…they could stop.

Skeeta slowed first.

Then Tabitha.

Both of them were breathing hard as they ducked into a dimly lit maintenance corridor—narrow, quiet, lined with exposed piping and flickering panels. The hum of the station was lower here. Distant. Hidden…for now.

Tabitha leaned against the wall, clutching her chest. “Okay…okay…I am officially too old for this, dude.”

Skeeta didn’t respond right away.

He stood at the entrance, listening. Always listening.

After a moment—

“…We’re clear,” he said.

Tabitha slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor. “Well, that’s comforting…in a ‘we’re probably gonna die later’ kind of way.”

Skeeta glanced back at her. Then, slowly…he sat down, too.

Not close. But not far, either.

A quiet settled between them. Not awkward. Just…unfamiliar.

Tabitha looked over at him. “…You said that thing in there was your ship.” Skeeta nodded faintly. “You weren’t joking.”

“No.”

She studied him.

There was something different now.

Less edge. More weight.

“…What are you, Skeeta?”

He exhaled slowly.

For a long moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer.

Then—

“…I was born a prince,” he said.

Tabitha blinked. “…Excuse me?”

Skeeta leaned back against the wall, staring ahead—not at her, but somewhere far beyond the metal confines of the Death Star. “Delta Alpha,” he continued. “Hidden city. Planet Gallifrey. Not on any map you’d recognize.”

Tabitha tilted her head. “Okay…so we’re startin’ there.”

“I didn’t stay a prince for long,” he went on. “Didn’t want to. Too many rules. Too many expectations.”

“Sounds familiar,” Tabitha muttered under her breath.

Skeeta almost smirked. “Gallifrey’s…complicated,” he said. “Time doesn’t move the way it does here. People don’t either. We see things. All of it. Past, future…possibilities stacked on top of each other.”

Tabitha squinted slightly. “That sounds…overwhelming.”

“It is.”

A beat.

“…When I was a boy, I ran away from the palace…from Delta Alpha,” Skeeta continued, quieter now. “Out there in the wilderness, I discovered something called the Untempered Schism.”

Tabitha frowned. “The untempered what now?”

“It’s a gap in reality,” he said. “A tear. Raw time energy. You stare into it…and it stares back.”

She blinked slowly. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It is,” he said plainly. “Most children go mad. Some run. A few…change.”

“And you?”

Skeeta’s eyes darkened slightly. “I became a Time Lord.”

The words hung in the air.

Tabitha didn’t interrupt this time. She just listened.

“…That sphere you saw,” he went on, “that’s my TARDIS—or one that I invented myself. The Schism also enhanced my intellect.” He then added, “It’s a Type-X model. It lets me travel anywhere. Anywhen.”

“Anywhen,” she repeated softly.

“Not just across space,” he added, “but across time. Across…realities.”

That caught her attention. “…Realities?”

Skeeta finally looked at her. “The Infinite DC,” he said.

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to explain that one.”

A small pause.

Then—

“Imagine every story ever told,” Skeeta said. “Every world. Every possibility. Existing all at once. Different timelines. Different versions. Some similar. Some completely different.”

Tabitha’s expression slowly shifted from confusion…

…to realization.

“…You’re sayin’,” she said carefully, “…this—” she gestured vaguely around them, “—this whole…Empire thing…”

“…is one of those worlds,” Skeeta finished.

She let out a slow breath. “…Well,” she said after a moment, “that explains why today got so weird so fast.”

That earned a quiet exhale from Skeeta—almost a laugh. Almost.

The silence returned.

But it wasn’t as heavy now.

Tabitha folded her hands in her lap. “…You mentioned someone earlier,” she said gently. “Kristin.”

Skeeta’s posture stiffened.

Just slightly.

“She was human,” he said.

“Was,” Tabitha repeated softly.

Skeeta nodded.

“…I met her during my travels,” he continued. “Didn’t plan on staying. Didn’t plan on…any of it.”

His voice shifted.

Not breaking.

But close.

“We traveled together. Saw things. Lived lives most people don’t even dream of. We even had a child together. Their name is Neas.”

Tabitha smiled faintly. “Sounds nice.”

“It was.”

A beat.

“…Too nice.”

She didn’t ask. She didn’t have to.

“I had to leave her,” Skeeta said.

Tabitha’s expression softened. “…Why?”

“Because of what I am,” he answered. “Because of who watches people like me. Because staying would’ve put her in danger.” He looked down at his hands. “…So I ran…just like I always do when the tough gets goin’.”

That hit her harder than anything else he had said.

Because she understood that…more than he realized.

“…I’m married too,” she said quietly.

Skeeta glanced at her.

“My husband’s a wonderful man,” she continued. “Kind. Hardworking. Loves me more than I probably deserve.” She swallowed. “But he’s never home.” Her voice wavered just slightly. “Work keeps him away. Months at a time sometimes.”

Skeeta didn’t interrupt. Didn’t judge.

“…And my boys…” she added with a small, bittersweet smile, “…they grew up. Moved out. Got lives of their own.” She looked down. “…So now it’s just me.”

That silence came back again.

But this time…

It was shared.

“…I don’t have any friends,” she admitted.

Skeeta’s expression shifted. Not pity. Understanding.

Tabitha took a shaky breath. “…And when I saw you that night…” she continued, “…I jumped to a conclusion I shouldn’t have.”

She looked up at him.

Eyes glistening.

“I’m not the person you think I am, Skeeta.”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m not racist,” she said firmly, even as her voice trembled. “I just…I messed up.” Another breath. “…And I’m sorry.”

That word lingered.

Real. Unforced.

“I get why you were angry,” she added. “You had every right to be.”

She hesitated.

Then—

“…But if we make it out of this,” she said quietly, “…I’d really like the chance to prove to you that I’m better than that.”

A long pause.

Skeeta looked at her. Really looked at her.

And for the first time since they’d met…he didn’t see a problem.

Didn’t see an obstacle.

He saw someone who—

Like him—

Had been left behind by the life they built.

“…Yeah,” he said finally.

Tabitha blinked. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “…We all mess up,” he said. “What matters is what you do after.” A beat. “…You’re alright, Tabitha.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

Then—

A small, genuine smile.

“…You’re not so bad yourself, Skeeta Jenkins.”

He almost smiled. Almost.

Then—

The moment broke.

Tabitha straightened up, wiping her eyes.

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands lightly. “Enough emotional bonding. We are still very much trapped on a giant space death ball.”

Skeeta raised an eyebrow. “That is an accurate description.”

She stood, pacing slightly now—thinking.

Fast. Focused.

“…Alright,” she muttered. “We got armed guards, locked doors, and your little golf ball spaceship sittin’ in a lab full of nerds who don’t know what they’re messin’ with…”

Skeeta watched her. Curious now.

“…What’re you thinkin’?”

Tabitha stopped and turned to him.

A spark in her eyes.

The same spark that got them into this mess—

But now…

Sharper. Smarter.

“…We don’t just escape,” she said.

Skeeta tilted his head.

“…Go on.”

She pointed in the direction of the lab. “We get your ship back.”

A beat.

Skeeta’s expression shifted. Interest.

“…And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

Tabitha grinned.

Confident. Bold.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea.”