a cut above (but nothing more) - Novantinuum - Steven Universe (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]
Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 5.6K+ Summary: Jaspers were only made to be soldiers. Nothing less, nothing more. It must be noted, however, that she was incubated within the same wretched earthen soil that birthed the treacherous Rose Quartz. So perhaps it can't be helped that she too would fail to live up to her designed purpose. That she too would dare to think.
FYI- This fic contains spoilers for chapters 14-15 of my fic Crack the Paragon, but beyond the canon divergence in the final scene it can be read as mostly canon compliant if you like. Content warning: A nonbinary character (and also Steven himself) is misgendered as 'she' by Jasper within the restrictions of her unknowing ignorant POV. _
Under the commanding gaze of the Great Diamond Authority, every last facet of Gem society abides by a single, shinning rule.
The rule.
That a Diamondās vision is absolute.
Unyielding.
Unquestionable.
The highest paragon of all reason and expertise.
And in said unyielding, unquestionable vision, jaspers were never made to be thinkers.
No, not at all.
Thatās a pyropeās job. Or an agateās, or a sapphireās. āThinkingā is a luxury reserved exclusively for members of the Gem elite, not for some lowlife failure of a quartz like her.
Jaspers were only made to be soldiers. Nothing less, nothing more.
It must be noted, however, that she was incubated within the same wretched earthen soil that birthed the treacherous Rose Quartz. So perhaps it canāt be helped that she too would fail to live up to her designed purpose.
That she too would dare to think.
To contemplate.
To question.
And after thousands of years of such forbidden, frivolous contemplation, this little streak of unwanted rebellion has led her towards an altogether unshakable truth:
That the day she burst free from that arid, chalky crack in the Earth was by far the worst day of her entire miserable existence.
_
On the whole, the emergence of a simple soldier is a rather mundane event.
One moment she did not exist.
Then, she did.
And as she lands in a deep crouch upon the ruddy red rock, hard-light limbs sighing and stretching upon her active will, there is only one command that matters.
Serve Pink Diamond. Protect Pink Diamond, the programming embedded within every last iron-banded layer of her gemstone thrums. Encoded right alongside that primary command is a vast catalogue of dataā¦ data about her identity, about her Homeworld, about her innate purpose under the irrefutable perfection of the Great Diamond Authority that governs her kindā¦ and about Her.
Rose Quartz.
The Crystal Gem rebellion.
The war.
She curls her fingers inwards, the ultimate trajectory of her existence now clear. Her sole purposeā until commanded otherwiseā is to oppose this wretched Rose Quartz and everything she stands for at all costs.
And thankfully, it doesnāt take long before sheās faced with her first and easiest challenge of loyalty.
After all, those traitorous Crystal Gems are already hereā¦ a whole platoon of them encroaching upon this dawning Kindergarten with their blasphemous rhetoric, too cowardly to prove the righteousness of their stance through martial exploits, too cowardly to face such a populous battalion even a single cycle after its members gain their bearings. Instead, they seek to make use of everyoneās disorientationā¦ to recruit them into their mutinous ranks. Itās such a clever, twisted plan that she almost has to admire the cracked brilliance of the Gem who came up with it. These rebelsā¦ they clearly recognize that theyāre no match for the sheer volume of Homeworldās forces, thus, theyāve turned to any meansā even stooping so low as to consort with and turn the enemyā to bolster their own. Everyone here in this Kindergarten is part of the newest batch of Gems, thus theyāre the ones most pliable to their persuasion.
But she will not be persuaded.
She will not be turned.
No, no. Not at all.
She is faithful to her Diamond, the Gem she was made to serve, and she shall defy these rebelsā will with every last fragment of her strength.
Howeverā¦
With such solid convictions in mind itās rather confounding, then, that she seems to be the sole hunk of stone in this whole blasted place whoās ready to bear arms and fight at a momentās notice.
Whatās the matter with you all? she barks at her fellow Beta Kindergarten soldiers, many of whom were halfway to considering their enemyās pitch before she moved to intervene. Do you really think these traitorous Gems have anything to offer you except their hollow promises and a spot on the front lines? They only want to use you! Once the war is over, there is no purpose for Gems like us to be found in their cause. But join meā¦ fight with me, and youāll be fighting for the glory of the Gems who made you.
Sheās not blindā itās obvious that many of her sisters are off color, either their stature or hue or misshapen form itself an unwanted rebellion against their sovereignsā preferred imageā but surely these minor flaws donāt mean they no can longer serve a suitable role in this empire. As long as they still submitā¦ as long as they still obeyā¦ then there is a place for them under the Great Diamond Authority.
Right?
With these very words, she succeeds in rallying the bulk of her emergent sisters to her side. But the battle that results is still rife with struggle. Dozens of Crystal Gems manage to escape unscathed as they retreat, and many of Homeworldās own are crackedā¦ with a handful even shattered to fragments entirely.
And whenā in due timeā their commanding garnet arrives on the scene to take stock of the inescapable damage, her perceived value (or rather, lack thereof) is suddenly made pristinely clear.
Hideous, unsightly thingsā! her Hessonite screeches at them as she marches up and down the assembled line of what few soldiers are still left standing. Stars, I can barely stand to look at you lot! What a joke. What a monumental waste of Homeworldās resources. What a useless heap of slag!
Despite the quartzesā undeniable victoryā they won, didnāt they? They chased those vile Crystal Gems right out of this canyon!ā the garnet is ever so prompt in informing the lot of them that the casualties they suffered here only occurred because the bulk of them are already broken and defective.
Thereās the tiniest facet of herā cold and timid and oh so infinitesimalā that yearns to speak out against this harsh judgement, yearns to defend her sistersā valiant efforts on this battlefield even despite their obvious deficiencies, and yetā¦
Shatter her, Hessonite barks, halting her stride right where she stands.
She feels her form flicker with terror as she lifts her gaze towards the higher ranked Gem, halfway expecting to meet her untimely end through a swift strike to the face, but of course not. Of course not. Of course her superiorā as loyal to their Authority as they comeā wouldnāt see fit to release her from her servitude so easily. And so itās with this grim revelation that she begins to process the truth of the matterā¦ which is that, despite looking straight at her, this Gemās decisive point is aimed at someone else. Her brows crease inwards in silent question, code flooded with confusion.
Hessonite stamps her boot against the rusty sandstone with marked impatience.
Yes, I am speaking to you, soldier. You are clearly the only quartz in this whole platoon who came out right, so prove it to me. Prove your worth to your commanding officer, and I will elevate you above your despicable origins. Shatter her, she says, once again jabbing her finger towards the malformed, three-armed carnelian standing directly adjacent, and help us be rid of this embarrassment.
ā¦
If she were incubated in the fertile crust of any other world, perhaps such a command wouldnāt cut at her so deep.
Perhaps she could find it within the innermost silicate layers of her gem to simply act.
No doubt. No remorse.
The Diamondsā will be done.
But in much the same way that prolonged exposure to this planetās wretchedness warped the fiendish Rose Quartz, deep down she fears that she, too isnāt fully immune to its corruptive influence.
Something about my code must be defective, she thinks, to delay my compliance this long.
(She thinks.)
A shiver of dread runs clear through the hard-light scaffold thrumming hot and volatile at her core as she realizes that the mere rebellious act of individual thought proves her own sneaking suspicionā¦
That secretly, sheās just as off color as the rest of them.
Because a jasperā one born of far worthier soilsā isnāt made to think. A jasper isnāt made to experience fondness for her sisters when the very nature of their existence betrays societyās rightful alignment.
A jasper isnāt made to defy a commanderās direct orders.
And soā¦ on surfaceā¦ she doesnāt.
Grinding her fists at her sides and summoning her helm, she stands her ground. She faces her sisterā¦ this defectā¦ and with the rest of her misshapen, rush-job Beta clutch in witness, carries out the Diamondsā indisputable vision.
Jasper proves her worth. _
True to her Hessoniteās word, she is swiftly elevated far beyond her lowly Beta origins.
She climbs the ranks with easeā how could a Gem of such perfect stature and loyalty not?ā first serving within the ranks of Pink Diamondās army, then spending a good hundred year stint working reconnaissance in the field, until finallyā¦ once sheās demonstrated her utility and skill beyond a shadow of a doubtā¦ sheās assigned as a guard in the coveted company of Pinkās personal entourage.
This placement is everything she was made for, everything she deserves.
Serve Pink Diamond. Protect Pink Diamond, her coding reminds her, terse and cloying in its persistence.
Nevertheless, the role brings a sense of novelty and great fulfillment to an existence that she fears would otherwise manifest as pure, listless monotony. With every new locale her Diamond travels toā each planet, outpost, or lunar baseā she and the rest of her squadron take great care to inspect and secure the premises in advance of her visit. Even on simple journeys to Earth to bolster morale amongst Homeworld troopsā¦ if Pink Diamond steps a mere footstep beyond the safety of her palanquin, a dozen hardy quartzes and agates snap into position around her. Such divine Radiance deserves nothing less, after all.
For a time, she nearly feels content within the repetitious tides of this assignment.
Nearly.
And thenā¦ that vile Rose Quartz steals everything from her.Ā
Despite her best efforts in all the listless eons that follow, sheās unable to purge her memories of that horrible day.
The day her Diamond was shattered without a thought, without a care.
(Her fault. Her fault.)
That Earthen solar cycle starts out much like any otherā¦ with a summons, and an order. A brand new mission, assigned by Pinkās top agate. Based on recent reconnaissance, it seems Homeworld forces have finally caught wind of Rose Quartzās current whereabouts, and her Diamond aims to switch to the bold offensive. Thus, along with the other members of her squadron, her duty is to follow this lead andā if at all possibleā eliminate that elusive, villainous rebellion leader for good.
Strike to shatter, her commanding officer instructs.
And truly, her spirit clamors for nothing less.Ā
But alas it seems these warmongers are far more crafty than Pinkās strategists couldāve ever accounted for.
After whole cycles spent tromping through an endless thicket of Earthās strange green organics, their supposed lead on Rose turns out to be nothing but a sham. A total dead end. Instead of routing them towards a much-anticipated showdown with the famed rebel architect herself, the coordinates Homeworldās interrogators pried out of that supposed Crystal Gem defector drop them right in the middle of a rather nasty sonic pulse trap. Herself and three of her squadron mates are destabilized instantly by the force of its sheer energy discharge.
As she finds out later through the incident report, the only reason the whole lot of them werenāt captured by the rebels was the quick thinking of one of her fellow soldiers, a carnelian who sacrificed the very stability of her gem by edging close enough to the unstable pulse generator to destroy it. This bold act permanently cracked her, but afforded the rest of the squad enough time to grab the dissipated gemstones and run.
By the time she reforms back at base, though, itās far too late for their loyalty or bravery to make any sum of difference. Far too late to recenter their efforts and strike again.
Because Pink Diamondā¦ is already gone.
Shattered.
Eradicated.
Her code, as rigid and stubborn as it is, simply canāt comprehend how to process this abrupt turn in reality at first.
After all, by every existing statute of their society, a Diamondās existence is simply an absolute.
Unyielding.
Unquestionable.
No Diamond has ever been defeated like this before, not even temporarily.
So how in Whiteās stars could any singular Gemā even someone as slippery as that fiendish Rose Quartzā ever succeed in carrying out an act this unimaginable?
As each new meaningless cycle wears on beyond the dawn of this senseless tragedy, she struggles to make sense of it all.
She struggles not to think.
Was her squadronās assignment a willful diversion, a vital element of Roseās plot so she could corner her Diamond just outside her palanquin alone? Or was it mere poorly planned coincidence that saw them and every other brigade of Pinkās guard moved away from active watch? Without the proper intel, she canāt be sure.
But the singular fact she does grasp onto, churning hot and ravenous and numb within the very epicenter of her beingā
Serve Pink Diamond. Protect Pink Diamondā¦
āis that ultimately, she failed.
She failed to uphold her core purpose.
This notion settles within her facets like a virulent decay, withering away at what little remains of her spirit. Of her will to even so much as exist.
She was created with one shining objective in mind: to serve her Diamond faithfully and tirelessly until the code of her gem breaks down and her shards return to the very dust of this thankless planet she was formed within. This is simply a factā¦ the guiding light of her entire subsistence. But given her Kindergartenās long list of insufficiencies, was this ever a task she was equipped to excel at?
If she werenāt so defective in her manner of processing informationā¦ werenāt incubated in such a horrid wasteland of a creviceā¦ would that have been enough to change the tune of this war? Would thatāve made a difference? Any difference? Could she have somehow seen through the hidden treachery of the rebelsā plot, rushed back to her palanquin, risen to her Diamondās aid, stopped this senseless slaughter from ever happening at all?
Is she the problem?
The weakest link?
The sole reason Rose was able to get close enough to shatter Pink Diamond in the first place?
With so much in flux as sheās once again thrown onto the front lines, these troubling questions fester within the dappled impurities of her form for far longer than sheās willing to admit.
But as the ever confident rebellion begins to drive Homeworldās forces to their utmost breaking pointā¦ asā one by oneā her fellow soldiers are dissipated around herā¦ as the remaining Diamonds order a mandatory retreat from Earth altogether and she finds herself whisked away on a crammed transport shuttleā¦ one thingās for certain:
That sheās just as off-color as the rest of her sorry batch.
That no matter how hard she tries, thereās no escaping the shadow of her shoddy Beta origins.
Her commanding officer gave her a clear mission, and instead of rising beyond the occasion and neutralizing the enemy as asked, she failed to follow through.
She failed to see through their lies.
She failed to prove her worth.
Her sole reason for existing has slipped right through her fingers, and itās all her fault. _
āJasperā Facet 9, Cut 3YQ?ā
She clenches her fists at her side as she strides forward. Keeping her eyes averted from her superior, posture rigid and anxious, she drops to a knee in front of the throne and indicates that she is present.
āYou may rise,ā Yellow Diamond utters in a weary monotone, her very words as punctuated as they are precise. āThis neednāt be long.ā
She complies on automatic. Nothing else is expected of her, of course. Sheās nothing more than a soldier, nothing more but another purposeless unit of Pinkās disbanded court to be processed, evaluated, and reassigned.Ā
Her expression feigning interest, the diamond scrolls through a scant few passages of text on her view screen, a concise yet hollow record of her faithful service thus far.
āIām reading here thatā despite your lowly origins in Earthās Beta Kindergartenā your record of service on the battlefield is commendableā¦ is that correct, 3YQ?ā
Despite the insufferable sense of shame eroding away at her gem, thrumming through the forking pathways of her internal circuitry with an altogether unbearable ire, she responds with a brief affirmative. A singular nod of the head.
āThen my decision is simple. You are reassigned to my court, effective immediately. Please report to the Condor Agate in the fifth wing of the Facet 12 armory to receive further instructions.ā
As you command, My Diamond, she chimes, arms snapping into the customary salute on route instinct.
The facets of her gem should shine with blissful vindication at this honor, given sheās one of the few quartzes from her failure of a colony lucky enough to be accepted into Her Radianceās court. Frustratingly though, this reassignment does not feel like a victory. She does not feel deserving of such a second chance. She simply doesnāt believe herself worth the expenditure of precious resources.
She often wishes she never survived the horrors of those Earthen battlefields at all, that her glittering shards could be laid to rest in the same soil as the whispering legacy of the Gem she failed to protect.
But an order is an order, and her new Diamond has already made it pristinely clear that sheās uninterested in entertaining the uncertain whims of an insecure Gem.Ā
So sheās not allowed to think.
To contemplate.
To question.
ā¦
To end. _
An unfathomable sum of cycles pass by, a monotonous eternity of service in another Diamondās court that dulls the innermost code of her system and weathers away at any lingering shard of internalized individuality she still dares to stubbornly cling to.
There are long stretches of time where sheās tempted to give in to this ceaseless erosionā¦ to simply not return the next off-planet mission sheās assigned to. To feign weakness. To allow herself to be bested, be that by the local fauna or by the very elements holding those blasted organic worlds together to begin with.
To consign herself to a fate even worse than this confounded dissatisfactionā¦ her still-sentient shards scattered across the winds, screaming for release, screaming out for the basal whims of entropy Herself to crush her sorry remains into inert, silent dust.
The shatter wish.
Sheās far from the first gem in this empire to crave such a deplorable fate, and sheās certainly far from the last. But no matter how intensely she craves it, she just canāt seem to muster the will to take that final step towards eternal oblivion.
Perhaps her coding is to blame.
Perhaps the bitter truth is that such a brazen waste of self isnāt part of the Diamondsā will.
Perhaps to question the purpose of oneās own existenceā¦ to open oneself up to such rebellious contemplation in the first placeā¦ is an aberration in and of itself.
ā¦
Perhaps.
ā¦
And yetā a testament to the depths of her hidden malformationā such discordant thoughts linger anyways.
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
Despicable.
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
Sheās utterly despicable.
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
Itās difficult to quantify exactly how much time slips on by before the murmurs of that fated mission to Earth reach her awareness.
As she overhears her commander discussing with another agate, a peridot in charge of accessing data in one of Earthās kindergartens has requested an armed ship and an escort. A quartz soldier, to be more specific. Not only that, but thereās a rumor creeping around the barracks that a minuscule handful of Roseās old rebellion still persists on that failed colony.
And maybe, her circuitry thrums with the barest hopes of personal redemption.
Maybe even Rose herself.
Soā a myriad of revenge fantasies swirling within the branching forks of her base circuitry at a higher velocity than even the light thatās continually refreshing her formā she takes a calculated risk very few would even dare consider.
She volunteers her own gem for the job.
Sheās well within her right to. As Yellow Diamond herself once stated, her record of service is commendable. Despite any of her personal reservations, her objective reputation certainly precedes her in this court of work. But still, itās quite a lofty risk, marching straight into her commanding agateās private office without so much as a scheduled meeting and humbly offering herself for consideration. Other gems have faced the harvesters for lessā an end far worse than shattering. (Though of course, she would not fully disapprove of such a fate.)
Her assignment request is granted, however.
Which is howā a mere two dawns laterā she finds herself captaining the finest warship the Diamonds can spare, accompanied by the peridot who requested backup and a single prisoner theyāve taken along as their informant.
The prisoner is a lapis, one of those rare terraformer types. Some citrines intercepted her flying past an old Era 1 solar processing site close to Earthās star system. As her interrogation file reports, this gem admitted to have spent time on the failed colony naught but a handful of cycles earlier. (Although she canāt begin to fathom how thatās possible, given itās common knowledge amongst her ranks that the rebels destroyed the planetās sole Galaxy Warp shortly before the Diamonds launched their final attack.) Without access to an FTL class ship to make the long journey, such an assertion should be impossible.
Should be.
Thereās still an awful lot that doesnāt add up about this whole missionā¦ obscured informationā¦ rumors with no substantive proof to back them upā¦
The lapis lazuliās purpose for visiting this planet in the first placeā¦
The peridotās claim of sabotage paired with the lapisā intel about Crystal Gems stubbornly persisting on the surface of this wretched rockā¦
Ignoring her self-serving hopes for a conspiracy that may facilitate her revenge, in what backwards reality could such unbelievable claims ever dare to be true?
After all, those infernal rebels were shatteredā! The Diamondsā final strike shouldāve eradicated their entire blasphemous kind! And everyone knows that a Diamondās testimony is absolute.
Unyielding.
Unquestionable.
To cast even one iota of doubt upon the ultimate outcome of their conquest is akin to casting a thankless shadow upon every last Gem that ever was or ever will be.
Itās simply not a function of her encoded purpose, to think about matters like these.
To contemplate.
To question.
To challenge her Radianceās will.
And yetā¦
The longer sheās chained to the skin of this deplorable place, seething with unrestrained anger as she tussles with that damned lazuli for control far, far under the oceanās surface, the more she begins to suspect that the whole conceit of this mission was a sham.
These Gems she traveled here withā¦ they stumbled upon information that the Diamonds didnāt want advertised, didnāt they? Rose Quartz and her brand new hideous formā¦ her remaining platoon of rebels, still active and alert as they interfere with Homeworldās routine surveillance protocolsā¦ none of them shouldāve survived that final strike. Their very existence in the here and now defies her creatorsā omnipotent nature.
She volunteered herself for a mission that was never intended to succeed, and nowā as long-delayed punishment for her failuresā an imprisonment upon the planet she worked so tirelessly to be better than is her prize.
ā¦
Genuinely, thereās moments sheās tempted to let go.
To give up.
To fail her assigned purpose one final time and let herself end.
Let the lazuli take full control.
Let her consciousness disappear beneath the rippling, watery skin of this ebony stained sea forevermore.
But then her coding summons up an image of that infernal Rose Quartz, serving a mirthful laugh somewhere up there on the surface. And suddenlyā¦ red-hot rage surging through the channels of their fused formā¦ her crushing defeat is all she desires.
She doesnāt care if the other one objects. This isnāt her abomination to command anymore.
ā¦
Deep in the uncharted murk of this aborted colonyās waters, that off color quartz surrenders herself to this rage. The lazuli finally bends.
And in her wake, Malachite rises. _
Fusionā¦
Fusionā! No matter how hard she fights to prove her worth, itās always those damned fusions!
Itās just a cheap tactic to make weak Gems stronger, she asserted to that ruby and sapphire back on the ship. Back before this entire missionā as doomed from the start as it wasā blew up in her face.
Regardless of her choice in tactics since, she still stands by what she said.
In the throes of battleā caught between a porous stone wall and a malformed joke of a āsmoky quartzāā fusion is a cheat.
Fusion is dirty cheat for broken Gems who will never live up to the role they were given.
And yet, no matter the cut of her gem, she couldnāt summon the strength to beat even one of Roseās rebels aloneā¦ thus proves her hidden insufficiencies.
Thus proves her ultimately defective natureā¦ that sheād even dare part from the unrelenting statutes of the Great Diamond Authority and fuse with a prisoner just to gain the mere chance of an advantage in this war.
How woefully foolish of her.
How laughably absurd.
If Yellow were to discover her rebellion, she would be shattered for this.
(And maybeā¦ just maybeā¦ thatās a small piece of the reason she did it.)
ā¦
Is it Earth?
Is this simply what this planet does to trifling Gems who linger on its surface too long? Those pitiful, shambling beasts who roam the surfaceā¦ no form, no motive, nothingā¦ is this simply what becomes of directionless soldiers who have nothing left thatās truly worth fighting for?Ā
Was sheā with every last iron-banded facet of her gemstone forever defiled by the impurities in the crust of this corruptive placeā doomed from the start?
Was that tantalizing little idea that she could ever prove herself deserving of her faultless physical stature nothing but a dead-end mirage?
Knocked prone by her fused assailant, she clenches her fingers within the chalky red soil of her birthplace, a mirthful, bitter chuckle boiling up within her as she flicks her gaze between this fusion and a lone corrupted Gem whoās yet to escape her compound. If her enemies consistently refuse to fight a fair game, then wellā¦ why should she?
She guns it towards the barred prison.
That traitorous ruby, an isolated half of Rose Quartzā famed war machine, attempts to intercept her. She whirls up a searing wall of flame, trapping her within its core. But only for the briefest of moments. The second this gem loses her focus, she rears back and issues a swift and vicious hook right to the rubyās cheek.
She crumples to the ground, utterly helpless to dodge her final strike.
The fusionā who by means was winning their skirmish up until this pointā loses all sense of ration and composure. She abandons their feud and dives, seeking to recover her comradeās fallen gemstone.
Barking in laughter as she realizes that this is perhaps her sole opportunity to twist the tides of this conflict to her preference, the lone Beta quartz swoops right in with a surge of punches. Her foe dodges each and every one of them at first, but itās clear sheās losing her stability, losing her zeal to fight. The fusion is stumbling, panting, sweating as she summons her weapon once moreā¦ hurls it at an angleā¦ tries to tangle her up within the confining length of its cord.
She ducks low, adjusting her footing to prepare her final assault.
But as she swings her helm down to poof this poor, insurgent creature, they split apart all on their own.
With her target no longer present, she face plants straight into the dirt. The fusionās componentās tumble to the ground in tow, met by the warbling cries of Roseās newfound subordinate, that traitorous Homeworld peridot she escorted to this lowlife planet in the first place. It takes a strenuous amount of effort to drag herself back to her feetā¦ to hobble her way over to the Rose Quartz, that fiendish heap of slag, left gasping and prone and clearly in no shape to fight anymoreā¦ but she presses onwards anyways. Barks out yet another taunt as the fear crystallizes those rebels in place. Grinds her fists inwards, intending to finally rid this universe of this would-be tyrant once and for all.
And thenā¦
An unthinkable display.
Her foe shrinks back, that infamous rose-emblazoned shield bursting into glittering existence upon her outstretched arm. And in this precise instant, her irises seem to change, for lack of a better term. So, too does the precise, subtle tune of her resonance.
Theyāre pink.
Pink rimmed diamonds, flaring bright amid her immense terror.
The rebel weapon glitches, its disc-like shape twisting into all manners of malformed conformations. And the split second it phases out of existence, her eyes return to their typical shade, dark pupils hidden amidst the almost black ring of color surrounding them.
The sight strips the mere hope of cognizance right out of her. Rattles her to her very core.
Those eyesā¦
Her unbelieving gaze drops to Roseās now exposed naval gemstone, previously obscured beneath the folds of her strange appearance modifier. She never payed much attention to the gemās shape while the two rebels were mashed in the same body, but now that its intended hue is unobscured by fusionās sway the resemblance is uncanny.
That gemā! Howā?!
The first emotion that surges through her system is pure perplexity. Then, immediately following, a blaze of red hot anger. Because how in Whiteās radiant name could any of Pinkās gemsā even a wretched low-life deviant like Roseā ever dare to stoop so low so as to ridicule the very Diamond she shattered? The concept alone is nigh unbelievable to her. The horrifying alternative, though?
āItās becauseāā her lifelong enemy splutters, rising to her feet with an unsteady gaitā āR-Roseā¦ was Pink Diamond.ā
The alternative is to accept that the last few thousand years of Gem history are a complete and total lie.Ā
Sheās swift to refute this notion, voicing her dissension at the vile quartz with a holler and a carefully aligned swing at the rocky cliff wall right above her.
Donāt contemplate, she thinks.
Donāt question.
Donāt allow a traitorās twisted fiction to sway your loyalty.
ā¦
By all means, she couldāve executed Rose Quartz right then and there. She couldāve ended her era-long feud for good. Attained the catharsis sheās always craved. Returned to Homeworld with her shards in hand and be christened as a war hero, all threat of conspiracy be damned.
Itās what a proper jasper wouldāve done, at least.
Because jaspers were never made to be thinkers. They were made to be soldiers, existing solely as a martial extension of the Diamondsā irrefutable will.
And yetā¦
ā¦
(That songā¦ that familiar, dissonant chord hidden within the intricate melody of her greatest villainās resonanceā¦)
ā¦
If sheās wrongā?
ā¦
If she shatters this gem and it turns out that her lofty claims are trueā?
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
She demands to be escorted to the other Crystal Gems. Demands answers. After all, there has to be more intel anchoring this story than a single quartzā bold faced assertion. If itās yet another rebellious scheme fabricated by this band of off-color waste, then by Her Radianceās authority she will dissipate their forms with zero hesitation.
And if notā?
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
No.
ā¦
Thereās no other option worth deliberating. Their words are poison.
ā¦
ā¦
ā¦
The traitors bring her to another of their auxiliary bases. An organic construction, one she could easily rip apart with her bare hands if the urge ever struck her. Theyāve taken a small platoon of rubies captive, with even that wretched lazuli now a part of their ranks. To her credit, the terraformer Gem takes one look at her and (wisely) decides to make her egress, releasing the rubies from her watery grasp. But their release soon beckons another problemā¦
This band of Gems has been scouring the whole solar system for her. They say theyāre here to ferry her back to Homeworld post haste. That this mission to bring her home was commissioned by Yellow Diamond herself. The idea that her own sovereign values her potential enough to allocate precious resources to track her down is a commendable achievement for anyone, even more so for a lowly quartz like her.
But Yellowā¦ as much as she respects her iron clad will and served her as best she could these past five thousand yearsā¦ wasnāt the Diamond she was created for.
Serve Pink Diamond. Protect Pink Diamond, her age-old programming echoes, its song permeating through every last layer of her gemstoneās iron laden impurities.
She clenches her fingers inwards. Sets her features in stone.
Caught between a platoon of dull-edged Homeworld loyalists and the pathetic remnants of a rebel army she once swore to destroy, Jasper makes her decision, her resolve absolute.
Unyielding.
Unquestionable.
In but a few swift swings of her helm, the ruby threat is neutralized. She takes a knee, saluting as she proclaims her renewed allegiance to Pink Diamond. Her rightful Diamond, no matter how strange and confounding her current form may be. No matter how many frantic questions and queries bloom upon her lips like the very Rose she once claimed to despise.
But she wasnāt made to question.
She wasnāt made to think.
And she certainly wasnāt made to want.
No.
Noā¦
A lowly jasper like herā¦ only ever existed to obey.