The Childrens Rebellion

I'm fast as fuckkk boiiii-oh shit, I can't breathe

The gym looked different from the one that had been aboard the H.M.S Fran. Tommy knew that, and he missed his gym—but at the same time, he was glad he could separate this one from that, glad of the dark red track that ran around a soccer field and the large lights. The soccer field was unused—ropes hung from the ceiling and a large cushion lay underneath. The field seemed to be in use from a large gymnastics routine set-up—Tommy wasn't quite sure—because when he and Wilbur entered, Tubbo stopped jumping on the trampoline, his hair sticking to his forehead as he stepped out. Techno and Phil were doing something with swords—an archaic set of tools, but Tommy supposed it managed for a workout.

"Hey, Wilbur!" Tubbo greeted, grinning widely, like usual. "Come to work out?"

"Not really," Wilbur said with a slight twist of his lips. "It's about the new...mission details." He glanced at Tommy meaningfully.

Philza scoffed, his sword resting in front of him, wooden tip planted in the ground, his wings moving slightly as he turned. Techno looked more at ease, his Piglin ears twitching the only show that he was exhausted in the slightest. "Come on, mate, it's just a diplomacy meeting to reassure the colony that the Galactic Rebellion really does care."

"Do they?" Tommy asked.

"No," Technoblade said. Philza nudged him, and Wilbur rolled his eyes. "What? I'm just sayin'. Those guys are assholes."

"Oh, they must be Piglins, then."

"Heh? No! They're descendants of Terrans." Techno's ears twitched irritably. "Bunch of simple-minded bastards, the lot of 'em."

"You can't say that," Tubbo said diplomatically.

Wilbur snorted. "They are a bunch of backward people," he said. "But the outposts there are useful 'cause it borders neutral space. As much as we dislike the inhabitants—"

"I hate them," Techno said.

"—we gotta assure them that we don't hate them," Wilbur continued, voice rising over the half-Piglin's in a feeble attempt to override them.

Tubbo crossed his arms. "We have to pretend to," he said. "Remember what happened last time?"

"Yeah, you got married to Ranboo," Philza snorted.

Tommy choked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah," Tubbo sighed. "That's done now. I'm divorced." For some reason, he looked slightly wistful. "Kristin and I went down as ambassadors, and when they found out she was already married to Mr. Philza Minecraft over here—" the Captain dipped his head in recognition, a smile on his lips. "—they decided it would be a great idea to marry their princess off to me in an attempt at unifying our people." He rolled his eyes.

Tommy's eyes widened. "You're married?" he asked Philza.

"Yep."

"Damn, you're old."

"Wha—I'm not old!" Philza sputtered, and Wilbur snickered quietly.

"You're married," Tommy declared. "That means you're old."

"Tubbo is married too!"

"No," Tubbo said solemnly. "I'm divorced." He heaved a mournful sigh.

"Why do you sound sad about that?!" Tommy yelled. And why hadn't Purpled told him earlier?

Tubbo sighed again. "I just commed the person that I thought would go along with whatever I said after they said I was going to get married to this random girl."