The Smallest of Victories
Three of them—well, two right now, since Opal is here.
Two of them, with their five-thousand year old knowledge and their outdated technology, facing off against… whatever is in that giant hand-shaped spaceship.
Two gems against what may very well be a battalion. Does Homeworld have the gems to spare on issues like this now? Earth wasn’t the only Kindergarten in the galaxy, back when the war started, so it’s very possible.
Two gems against the unknown, against what very well might be the impossible.
Outlook? Not good, last time Garnet checked. She can’t spare the precious seconds it would take to look again, can’t leave Opal alone that long—but it’s just as well, because she doubts anything will have changed.
Loathe as Garnet is to admit it, the most probable outcome is that they will lose. Badly. They can’t not try, though. This is what they’re here for. This is precisely why the Crystal Gems are still active.
So here they are. Two fusions bracing themselves on a chilly beach for whatever Homeworld has decided to throw at them. The light emanating from Peridot’s ship has painted everything a shade of luminescent green, dismissing small details and brushing over the rest with broad strokes.
The light canons didn’t work.
Opal’s strongest arrows aren’t working either.
Neither attack had a high probability of success, but they’ve literally thrown their very best at this thing, and they haven’t so much as scratched it. It’s frustrating. For the first time in a long, long while, Garnet feels very small. Helpless. What else is there left to give, when you’ve already given your all?
Is this a lost cause?
Perhaps, but there’s no way they are going down without a fight. If the humans on Earth don’t stand a chance against three Crystal Gems, then the callous might of Homeworld will surely destroy them within the next decade.
They didn’t dedicate everything to this planet just to step aside and let the likes of Peridot take over. Not even if they don’t understand her. Not even if they’re terrified of everything she is and represents.
And oh, they’re all terrified.
Realistically, Homeworld will dispose of them as soon as they’re defeated, anyway. If they’re going to fall, the least they can do is fall fighting for what they believe in. If nothing else, they need to defend the sanctity of their own existence—because Homeworld will tell them they were never meant to survive, or become anything useful, or exist at all, and if these last five millennia have taught them anything, it’s that Homeworld is wrong, and it always has been.
These are hopeless circumstances. Perhaps Peridot hasn’t brought enough reinforcements to outnumber them, but they are undoubtedly outgunned. Garnet knows it. She can see on Opal’s face that she knows it, too. Still, as the ship sails closer and closer, glowing with the friction of its own descent, its enormous index infer pointed at them like an accusation or some kind of death sentence, neither of them move.
In that moment, Garnet says what they’re all thinking, “At least Steven is safe.”
Even if they fall today, they will fall knowing they have accomplished that much. Homeworld can do what it wants with Garnet and Opal—as long as Steven remains tucked out of sight, undiscovered and unbroken, then the Crystal Gems haven’t really lost. Steven is their best kept secret, their only real contribution to this world. If Homeworld never finds him, then Garnet and Opal will have done right by him.
Garnet’s lips twitch. That’s kind of like a victory, isn’t it?