Stir-Crazy

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

10 Days. 10... miserable, boring as hell, 'I am gonna KILL someone', days. When Glayde had sentenced her to the ordeal, Charles knew it was going to be bad, she didn't figure it would have been this bad. What had started as an interrupt to her routine was now nothing more than a time period spent mentally climbing the walls.

Days one through three were spent on the ship, attempting to keep as far away from everyone else as possible. Most of the time had been spent in her bunk, quietly enjoying whatever self-imposed misery that came with reminiscing over her time with Cresh Company and beating herself up for not having been there with them in their final moments.

Day four she had given up and gone planet-side and had stayed for days five, six, and seven. At least, she guessed as much. There had been far too much whiskey and far too little common sense to really make out the details. The tender feeling along the left side of her ribcage gave insight to one of the activities. At first she had suspected a fight to be to blame, but upon closer inspection the new addition to the tattoo of her former taskforce's emblem had elicited nothing more than a "Oh...right." from her.

Day eight she had returned to the ship, sharing a few choice words with Onashi, ducked away from having a run in with O'Hurn, and then had gone to see if Jsorra knew of some magic cure for a hangover. Charles wasn't sure why she'd gone to him. Probably some odd association with him being the tech guy, which made him smart, which meant he had to know. No cure was found, but she had spent the day talking to him. He was nice enough... for a tech.

Day nine was spent alone, sulking in her bunk once more, staring at the walls and trying to tell herself that she only had one more day to go.

So brought on day ten. The last day and yet so close from freedom. Time was dragging. Dragging to the point where all she wanted to do was find some way to become unconscious so she could wake up and have it all be over. Which gave way to thinking that it was probably time to actually go and talk to the person she had been really avoiding since the entire incident in the gym that had started the 10-day stretch of hell: Her brother.

Xander was in his lab, well, at least the makeshift haphazard room that had been designated as such. He still looked to be attempting to arrange everything into some semblance of order when she found herself in the doorway, shaking her head at him. "That's probably a rather moot point, you know. You'll tidy it up and some dimwit will come along and just misplace everything again when you aren't here. Either that or they'll move where we are stationed again the day you get it all perfected."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander fought back the urge to sigh, not entirely sure whether the cause was her presence, or the fact that there was actually some considerable truth to her statement. Whichever it was, it disgruntled him greatly; and thus he maintained his stoic silence, hoping that the annoyance would eventually get bored and go away. Unfortunately, past experience led him to believe that the plan would be unsuccessful... but it was nice to cling on to that hope for just a few more seconds.

"It's like when we were kids," he bit back, rumaging through a box that the label claimed contained replacement vibration coils for the sonic oscillator, but instead held an assortment of items that more closely resembled the random contents of lab techs' pockets for the last seven years. He grunted, gave up, and pushed the box aside, fixing his gaze on Charlotte directly. "Your room was a shit-tip, and so everything wound up broken. You had no toys of your own, so you stole mine; and broke them too." A stab of bitterness over the mint condition Republic Ranger action figures that Lottie had stolen, opened, and then broken the legs off; yet another on the list of of childhood sleights that he had yet to forgive her for.

A twinge sparked in his nose, still healing from the injury she'd kindly bestowed upon him. Apparently, she wasn't done adding things to that list. "Speaking of; don't you have someone else you can go 'play' with?"

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

There were many reactions she had expected from her brother. A fury of smartass comments being the top contenders, but it was the bite they were delivered that caught her off guard. Usually it took several moments of back-and-forth insults to get him that worked up, and usually by that point she was ready to fly off the handle herself.

"Kriff's sake, Xander. Who went and shit in your caff?" Her arms crossed over her chest as she walked into the lab and took up residence against one of the walls. "Leave you alone for several days and this is the 'Hi' I get? You can't still be mad at me for breaking your nose... thought that ended about five minutes after it happened."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Lottie was right, to a certain extent. The initial anger at her having hit him had faded away the instant she'd crumpled, and let him catch a glimpse of what was keeping her so upset. And if it had ended there, it would have been fine.

But no. First they'd had to break his nose, which - truth be told - made him cry like a girl. Then there'd been the inflamation. For the last ten days he'd barely slept, unable to breathe through his nose. And when he did manage to doze off, he inadvertantly rolled over and lay on his face. Which hurt. With nearly zero sleep for ten days, his brain had slowly begun to dissolve into a vague numbness. If someone had taken a shit in his caff, it wouldn't have been difficult to sneak it past him: he'd pretty much been breathing the stuff the last few days.

"Just..." He let out the sigh I'd been holding back. "Now isn't a good time, okay, Lot?" Not now. Not ever, to be honest.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Lot? Frink, he hadn't called her that since they were children, really young children at that. Clue one had been the swift bitchiness, clue two was the super short version of a nick name only Xander had ever gotten away with. Dare she try for a clue three?

"Oh please, it's not like you're trying to save the world right now, I would have heard about it. The Major may have told me no missions briefings but that doesn't stop normal chit-chat from happening and as far as I know this entire place has been practically dead since Life Day."

Charles' eyed her brother suspiciously and smirked slightly. "So, let me guess, there is a hot guy on morning shift in the med bay, but you found out he's married or something, right?"

[Alexander Tur'enne]

"Listen!" Xander rounded, eyes flashing with anger; the outbust surprised even him, and he recoiled a little. "Listen," he tried again, more softly, but his voice trailed away without actually providing anything for her to hear.

His shoulders slumped, memories beginning to weigh down on him again. Today was an anniversary: today, several years prior, he'd asked her to marry him; and by some sheer fluke she had said yes. It was one of those days - one of far too many, in fact - where everything that he'd lost came crashing back on him; everything that she had ripped and torn away. It was stupid, especially all these years on, but still. There were some things that never ceased to hurt, no matter how much time you left: some hurts that never lost their sting.

"Today is a bad day," he muttered, not able to bring himself to look at her. "Go pester someone else, Lottie. Please."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Stop calling me that." It was a sentiment that she had said often starting somewhere around age thirteen, when attempting to shrug off whatever remnants of a childhood you had in a quest to try and 'grow up'.

What Charles hadn't expected was the way her tone had shifted from just playful jabbing to rather sharp so quickly. She had spent the last ten days trying to forget everything that had happened in the makeshift gym and now it was pouring back in.

"'Go pester someone else?' This coming from the man who told me only a few days ago that I he'd be there if I needed to talk to someone? What happened to 'always', Xan?" Charles managed to hold back some of the misplaced anger at him and stopped herself from talking long enough to take a deep breath in before she let it out in a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm not here to start anything. If I was looking for a fight I would have gone somewhere else. I just figured... you know... I mean, we haven't really talked... and it's been what? Six years? The little tiffs we've been having since we picked you up don't count."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

That hit Xander in the gut like a hammer. He had said that, and he'd meant it. He'd just assumed - damn it, Xander, how many times did they teach you not to do that? - that Charlotte was being her usual, intentionally irritating self. His stomach twisted into a knot that wouldn't stop squeezing. "I-" he tried, struggling to articulate his voice. "I'm -"

He stopped; stepped back from the worktop he'd been hovering at and, despite the swirling maw of dispair lodged in his chest, managed to muster a small smile for his sister, though the expression was marred by a saddened contortion of his eyes. "I'm sorry, sis," he offered gently. "I just... I'm having a rough day."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

His expression, and the knowledge that she probably wasn't the one who had been at the cause of it, tugged at the small sense of compassion she had. While her own sadness that had been mulling about in her head hadn't gone away, seeing it in Xander's eyes was something that made her own problems seem minuscule. He was her big brother, he was supposed to be the one who took care of her... but it had never really been that way.

"Who did it?" Obviously someone was to blame. Xander had never been the type to feel anything for no reason, that was more her sphere of reality. "I don't care what rank they are, I'll go kick their wagyx. No one gets to make you upset except for me."

The smile she offered him was weak, bordering somewhere on her own sarcasm, honesty, and general feel that maybe things weren't just all that simple. But Charles likes things in simple black-and-white terms. Her own upset was from the fact Rask and the rest were really gone from her, that was simple. She had asked for a transfer and Glayde had asked her to stay, that was... okay so maybe that wasn't simple and she didn't quite understand it despite the Major's explanation. Maybe that's what had made the last ten days more miserable than anything else, all in all, except for when completely drunk, no part of it had been simple.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander let out the briefest of laughs at the sentiment. Figured that the only way Charlotte would be able to play the loving sister was by threatening to inflict physical violence against another on his behalf. It was sweet, in a way, though the emptiness inside him yawned at the lack of any true sympathy or affection to satiate it.

"It's -"

He honestly tried to tell her. He really did. His lips wrapped around the words; tried to push them forth; but they just wouldn't form. His throat squeezed like a fist around his voice, and barely let even a breath squeeze past. He sighed, surrendering to the impulses of his subconscious. "It's nothing," he muttered vaguely, slumping down into a conveniently nearby chair. "Nobody here, at any rate."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

She wasn't sure why his silence was annoying her so much. Charles, after all, had often been guilty of similar. Hell, all the Tur'ennes weren't exactly the type to profess all emotions and troubles to the galaxy. But whereas Charles had been the hit-first-talk-later type, Xander was the opposite. Or, at least, he had been. Maybe things had changed... if what he had told her in the gym was any reflection on things, both of their lives hadn't exactly been the kindest to them the last few years. The situations were different, but the emotions could be the same.

Some part of her mind wanted to make the assumption that it had to do with Xander still getting used to being off-world. Homesick, maybe. Force knew she had been for a small chunk of time after she joined up with the Rebellion proper. It sounded like he was missing someone... frak, maybe that roommate he had? Stranger things had happened...

But then again... it wasn't like Xander had just joined up, he'd been around for long enough to get his own space and the whole while he had never shown anything like this. It didn't make sense, not to her at least.

She didn't speak anything in reply for a while, letting her thoughts wander over everything and inevitably continually having to bring a halt to her thinking whenever it started to turn to the hell is he upset for? He didn't just have everyone he cares about die. Selfish as the thoughts were, they wouldn't leave her alone. Frak this, I told HIM what was wrong, didn't I?

The more she remained silent, the more annoyed she got. At him, at herself, at being stuck on the ship, at not having a mission to get her mind off of everything, at the fact the last ten days had been completely pointless. She hadn't learned any lesson by it, hadn't been allowed to try and get in contact with anyone to see about what sort of memorial service (if any) was going to be held, there was no kriffing closure.

Pure selfish stupidity brought it all to a final thing: Whatever he is going through... I've been through worse. Charles was ashamed to have even let her mind go there and she took a deep breath, forcing a redirect.

"Well, if they aren't here... then why the hell do they, or what they think, or what they've done matter? Unless they're dead and gone, frink 'em."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

She's dead to me; and she's gone from my life. That close enough?

Irrational rage swept through Xander, curling his hands briefly into fists. Sure she'd lost - what, a bunch of collegues? A bunch of friends? - a lot, and Xander would never be so arrogant as to lessen the suffering of another being: it was one of his core beliefs. But that worked both ways, and all this 'My pain is worse than your pain, so buck up, soldier' crap was sickening; infuriating. He'd had his heart ripped, still beating, from his chest. He'd watched his life dissolve and fall apart. Pain came in all forms, and all intensities; but Charlotte dealt in absolutes, and always had.

"How about frink you?" he snapped, tongue lashing into action before he knew what to say. "You wanna trivialise my pain? You wanna be the center of the kriffing universe, just 'cause Charlie's boo-hoos suck worse than Xander's? Well fine. Be a bitch-humping son of a hazmot, for all I frakking care." Xander's eyes shimmered with uncried tears as he rounded on her, pain mixed with fury in his eyes. "Just do it somewhere else, and on someone else's time."

He collapsed, anger vented for now; slumping back into his chair, his voice turned stretched and tired. He couldn't summon the strength to battle anymore, and fell back on the only route of escape he could concieve. "This is an operations area; you shouldn't be here while you're suspended from duty. So get the frak out of my lab, Lieutenant."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

There was a great deal Charles wanted to say to Xander in that moment, most of it in the realm of cruelty that went above and beyond what most rational people would say to their sibling. Though it wasn't that train of thought that stayed her tongue, it was the way he had presented everything. More to the point, the last bit.

What Xander had said hadn't really knocked any sense in her, it just brought on another round of accusations directed at his keeping whatever it was that was upsetting him a secret. They didn't have secrets. No Charlie, you mean you used to never have any... Apparently too much had happened for them to even be able to relate to one another anymore.

There was a distinct lack of emotion in her eyes as she regarded him, as if looking through him like one would someone they completely loathed. Hells, maybe in that moment she did hate him. The insults had only stung, but were easily brushed aside. It was Xander's addressing her by rank that put everything into a giant bin of I wish we had left you at that weapons facility. I wish you were the one that got shot, not Glayde. I wish it was you that was dead, not the men that have actually been older brothers to me. And while all the sentiments went unsaid, if at any point his eyes caught her's, it would have been clear. At least for a little while, then her gaze simply was, all rage gone and what was left was a cold simple observance.

Charles pushed herself up off the wall, a crisp nod of her head next, then her voice followed, betraying nothing of what she felt except for the lacking in any sort of her usual warmth whether it was sarcastically put there or not. "It won't happen again."

She let the words hang there, carrying a weight of finality along with its various meanings to it. Another glimmer of hatred flickered in her eyes before she turned and left the lab.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander could sense that he'd gone too far - some stray word had struck more of a chord with his sister than he'd intended, and he could see that the distress she was now feeling went far beyond what was reasonable for even warring siblings to inflict. A small fire of guilt sparked into life in his chest, but it was soon drowned out by the storming tempest of sadness and despair that had flooded through him.

She disappeared, but the anger she'd caused did not abate. He wanted her back; wanted her to yell and scream at him; wanted an excuse to do the same in return. He wanted to fight, again; even another broken nose would be enough to take the edge off the numbness that was slowly nibbling away at his being, as if the icy sea of emotion inside him was slowly robbing his spirit of life. He wanted to feel something; it didn't matter what. Happiness seemed too far away; rage seemed the best option. But his sure-fire source of such had just wandered away.

A fist lashed out, the skin across his knuckles rupturing beneath the heavy impact with the nearest hard object. Adrenaline robbed him from the sting of whatever damage he'd wrought; his frustration only abated by the slightest of fractional degrees. He needed more.

Realisation dawned in his eyes. There was only one option left.

* * *

It had taken time to find the right place; time that should rightly have been used to talk him out of it, but had only served to wind his resolve tighter. It was a bad plan; everything was wrong with it. That it was his only plan - his only option - was it's one saving grace, and was why he now found himself standing here, outside her door.

He reached for the door chime; moments later the plate of durasteel that sealed the bunk room's entrance slid aside. Comitment tightened in his chest, as her form appeared, framed in the doorway. "Captain Tallen?" he asked, suddenly realising that they had never before been introduced. "I need your help."

[Mara Tallen]

She'd lost track of time earlier in the day, having confined herself to her small quarters the worse she could feel the pull of her beast.

Small though her quarters were, they became smaller when she shifted, given that her feline form was far larger than her human one. Her sleek, dark tan fur had auburn streaks rippling through it, an echo of her human hair color, and while she bore none of the spikes of a full-blooded Felacatian, she did carry the same pair of massive saber-teeth as her mother's people, and a full set of viciously sharp claws.

Back and forth she paced, through her small bedroom, the tiny sitting area that was little more than an alcove with a desk and a chair, and into her own bathroom, and then back again. Mara hated the fact that she was bound to be aboard this wretched ship so much, and given so little opportunity to go planet-side and hunt to her feral heart's content. Trips through hyperspace were wretched enough...forcing the change on her if she were too tired to control it and leaving her weak for nearly an hour afterwards if she fought against it too hard.


Even sleeping in her feline form had begun to lose the effect of holding the beast at bay. Mara's feral form was easily controlled when she had enough sex. When she didn't, she had issues...like getting so easily riled by Charlotte that she dug several inch furrows in solid metal decking (those, she'd since been told, were filled with a clear resin to preserve them).

As such, when the doorchime sounded, Mara growled at the door - a full-throated annoyed sound that faded only as she shifted back to human. Fingers absently smoothed out the soft grey of her t-shirt and shorts, while her bare feet made little sound as she crossed to the door. A delicate brow arched as fingers rose to slide through tousled auburn locks.

"Tur'enne..."

Charming...one of the people she'd not wanted to see, and there he was. Asking for help, to boot. Much as she wanted to, her sense of duty won out over slamming the sliding door closed in his face. A few steps back gave him room to enter and allowed the door to whoosh closed behind him.

"...what can I do for you?" Mara managed to ask, lightly enough to be polite.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander's mind raced, eventualities and possibilities swarming through his head like a shoal of dartfish, crashing against the inside of his skull with such violence that it felt fit to burst. His breaths were shallow, heart twisting; pounding; writhing in his chest. He looked at her, conflict tearing at his brow. This was bad. This was wrong. And yet, somehow, it was right. It was what had to be done. It was what was needed to make it through today. But then, what about tomorrow? And the next day? Sometimes, the ends justified the means; but in this instance, the reverse needed to be true: would the means justify the ends?

Resolution formed in his mind: the door had closed behind him metaphorically, as well as literally. "You need a way to get back at my sister." His words were slow, carefully chosen; uttered with slight reluctance. "And I need -"

Words fell away. Impulse spurred his body into motion; stepped towards her, laced his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth to his. He breathed the heady scent of her as his lips intertwined with his; after an instant that felt like an age he drew back, bright eyes shining like blue giants on the brink of nova. "Right now," he said, his voice soft and quiet save for an edge that spoke of nothing but carnal desire, "What I need is you."

[Mara Tallen]

She knew it was a bad idea.

Knew she should say no.

Push him away...but she couldn't.

Not only couldn't, but didn't want to. It actually...felt -good-. No...better than just good. Mara's body reminded her that it had been over a month since Ruuria, and weeks since what little was left of her heart had been broken at Life Day.

Mara didn't just need him, she craved what he was offering and found her arms sliding around his waist in the same moment. Her faint, surprised expression melted into a smile that could only be termed wicked as he pulled back. Normally dark eyes glowed a soft gold as a lush purr emanated from her throat in response to the carnal desire echoed in his tone.

Words weren't necessary as she tilted her head forward to capture his lips, sliding one hand up his chest as just a hint of claws lengthened from her fingernails. Dragging them back down after hooking into the neck of his shirt, they easily tore through the fabric and left now-normal fingertips cascading across warm, bare skin. A low, sensual laugh emerged as he broke the kiss and took firm hold of her wrists, pinning them above her head as her back hit the wall beside her bunk.

A long, slender leg slid up his side to press against his waist, tongue darting out to moisten her lips before Xander's head dipped close. Close enough for her to nip sharply at his lower lip, the faintest growl at the back of her throat as he pressed tightly against her.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

The leg wrapped around him was too much; pulling him closer at her pace, not his. No way he was surrendering control; not for this. Fingers wrapping around her calf he tore her leg free, twisting with the momentum and holding tightly onto her so they span; he shoved, sent her tumbling back onto the bed, and with a ferral growl of his own, advanced.

Something in his mind muttered that this was wrong; that didn't instill even the slightest hesitation as his fingers tore at her clothes, though admittedly with lesser success than her efforts. Eventually he silenced the voice, once again pinning her arms above her head. Screw morals. Screw right and wrong. This was carnal, nothing more. He needed this: needed someone elses face to superimpose over the images of her when they played out behind his eyes, taunting him. He needed the mocking within his mind to stop: needed to prove to himself, if to no one else, that Laura hadn't broken him as a man quite as thoroughly as it seemed.

His hands pressed down on her wrists, driving them deeper into the mattress. This was necessary. He needed this. And revenge against Charlotte? Well, that was just a happy coincidence.

* * *

It was dark. Xander didn't remember when they'd turned out the lights. It didn't really matter. Things hadn't changed much in the few hours he'd been lying here awake, trapped with her inside the bunk that decorum and the plan wouldn't let him leave. His eyes were focussed on the ceiling, almost unblinking. Inside he felt empty: none of the contentment he'd expected; none of the release. He didn't feel guilt. Didn't feel pain, at least, which was a bonus. He just... didn't feel anything.

His eyes flicked to the chrono on his wrist. Almost time. With a sigh, he peeled himself free of the tangle of limbs she'd cast around him, levering himself to sitting precariously, perched on the very edge of the bunk. He peered through the dimness, hunting out the pants that had been discarded in their frenzy. He pulled them on, matching them with a shirt - torn to shreads; but a least it'd help make the inference of what had transpired more graphic for his sister.

She stirred, responing to his absense; looked at him with questioning eyes. He knew he should feel guilty, running out on her, using her, but he still felt nothing but hollow. "In a minute or so, my sister runs past that door on her morning workout, like clockwork. She sees me leaving here, and you get your revenge."

He turned his back to her, stepping into boots without bothering over the laces; paced over to the doorway before he lingered, fingers jabbing the control that would make it retreat into the wall and grant him exit. "Last night was fun," he offered as a platitude, the bright light from outside slamming into him like a wave as the hatch disappeared. Lets never speak of it again.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

She was free! Frak did it feel good. The gym had been a place of morning routine, it started the day off right. And being banned from it for ten days had left her feeling soft and out of sorts, no matter how many damned simplistic workouts she did in her room to try and compensate. Charles was determined to not let anything ruin this fine day... nope! Even just the warm up gentle run she enjoyed on the way there was amazingly liberating.

That was until she came around one of the bends in the corridors just in time to see her brother. With his hair mussed up. With his shirt torn. Leaving Captain Tallen's quarters.

The run slowed as she neared him, the rational part of Charles' brain screaming to just leave it be, there was a setup here and she damn well knew it. But as she continued to approach Xander her footsteps had slowed to a stroll and then she came a halt directly in front of him before the door even had the opportunity to shut behind him.

"So... guess that whole 'don't like women anymore' thing was a load of poodoo, huh?" There was no holding back the bite in her tone, the cruel way it was practically chirped out.

Nor was there any letting time pass to allow Xander to speak. She'd shut up well enough the day before but Charles wasn't going to hold in it this time. She'd crossed the bridge to letting herself think anything of her 'brother' anymore, might as well burn the whole damn thing down.

"Boy was I an idiot. Thinking you and I would ever be able to trust anything to each other. I show you a sliver of weakness in years and all I get in return are a bunch of kriffing lies. You think it was funny when you told me that? Of all the people I expected to lie to my face when I needed any sort of support - never thought it'd be you."

She saw his mouth open to speak and for once held the fist that wanted to connect with it, letting her words just overpower his.

"Don't worry, like I said yesterday, it won't happen again. I was always told that family is more than just blood, it's nice to know that I really have lost all of mine. Trust me, I don't think the galaxy revolves around me. I'm not that frakking important, you've always let me know that."

A heavy breath was all that let her pause just long enough to catch it and cut Xander off from speaking again if he was even considering it. "But you know what? You aren't and never have been half the brother any one of the guys in my company were. And I was a complete and total idiot to think you just being here would be able to make it okay somehow. I thought I had my big brother back." Her head shook rather than say that she was wrong another time.

There were no more tears to be shed over the whole damn situation, but the entirety of the pain she felt was shown on he face. "Thanks for only proving that I lost everything I cared about with them. Everything. And you? You're just someone I knew when I was a child who couldn't give a frink less. You want to play these games? Fine. Pretend you like boys...or like girls... or whatever the hell you're doing here. Just don't pretend to be anything to me anymore, because you're not."

A glance was cast as the door before she forced a smile. "And as for Captain Tallen? It's none of my damn business who she's got slinking into her bunk at night and that's the way I'd like to keep it. I hope you two have fun, Mister Tur'enne."

A sickly sweet smile was cast before she ran off, not bothering to cast a glance back to see Xander's final reaction.

[Mara Tallen]

"Oh you can rest assured, Charlotte, there will be no more fun..."

The growl was low and soft, but there was no mistaking where it had come from. Framed in the darkness of the doorway, Mara stood with her arms crossed over her chest, having taken the time that the blonde was speaking to dress herself. At the first sound of her less-than-dulcet tones, she'd entertained the notion of sauntering out clad in a bedsheet.

But when she actually listened, the Captain was taken completely aback. Everything in the past two weeks suddenly made so much more sense, as if the fog had abruptly cleared and left everything in bright sunlight.

Granted, they'd not met under the best of circumstances either, but had Mara not been so absorbed in her own troubles, she might have recognized a grief that mirrored her own, so tightly held. Perhaps not on the same scale, as one person was not akin to an entire unit. But enough that she should have had an inkling. Distantly, she made a mental note to look into the incident and see if her contact could uncover anything other than the likely blacked-out report Charlotte had been given.

Her beast remained under firm control, giving her the leeway to simply extend her fingernails into vicious looking claws to tap across her upper arms. Clad in a faded olive tanktop and a pair of camoflauge shorts, she shot a glare at the back of Xander's head that the man could no doubt feel.

"You left out a few salient details when you came to my door last night, Xander. Concocting a story of revenge and the pain she'd heaped upon you, using my seemingly inherent need to piss her off as icing on the cake." She echoed darkly, the tone no doubt carrying well down the hallway to where Charlotte had seemingly paused. Claws dug into the bare skin of her upper arms, not yet drawing blood, but cutting enough to elicit a growl from deep in her chest.

"I didn't mind being used when it served the purpose of controlling my beast as well. But this? Xander, this I mind. She's your sister, for love of the gods...that's supposed to mean something."

Turning to glance down the hallway, Mara met Charlotte's gaze and simply nodded. There were a dozen apologies lingering on the tip of her tongue, echoed in her amber gaze, but now didn't seem like the proper time and place to let them out. Instead, she slipped back into her room, and let the door whoosh closed behind her.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

There it was, then: the emotions he'd been expecting to feel. There was the guilt. There was the pain again too, though different this time. He took no satisfaction from what he saw in her eyes; no comfort; no joy; no solace. Instead, every possible dark emotion descended on him like a wave, and he had to throw out an arm to steady himself against a bulkhead, just to stop from drowning.

What hurt the most was the blatant point towards his betrayal. That's what it was, pure and simple: he'd betrayed what shred of trust he'd managed to cling on to, and recover from their childhood. He'd betrayed the trust she'd placed in him, sharing her pain and loss with him. He'd betrayed her confidence. Betrayed his sister. There was no lower ebb to which he could sink.

He didn't even remember walking back to the quarters that Dalgas had allocated for him. Didn't remember stripping off his shreaded shirt; tossing it aside into a corner to be trashed, or burned, or whatever. He didn't remember much from the hours he lay there, wallowing in the black pit he'd tumbled into. All that occupied his mind was her eyes; her words; playing over and over again, mocking and taunting. In trying to free his mind from the haunting memory of the one he'd loved and lost, he'd replaced it with a much more harrowing vision of the one person in the galaxy he cared about more.

There's nothing I can do, he realised. It was too late. They were broken.

'Of all the people I expected to lie to my face when I needed any sort of support - never thought it'd be you.'

Her words echoed in his head. She was right: he'd made a lie of everything he'd said to her or not. She'd never forgive him. Never speak to him again. But if there was one thing he could do, it was provide her with the truth.

The datapad emerged from beneath his pillow, stowed there in preparation for midnight flashes of inspiration and genius. Now however its words were far less clinical; far less harsh; less heartless. It began with a simple admission, and all that entailed.


You were right, Charlotte. I lied.

Maybe not the way you think I did; but a lie of omission is still a lie of a kind. I told you that Laura left me: what I didn't tell you was how badly it broke me inside. I know compared to your loss it must seem like nothing: but I was never the strong one. That was always you. With Laura, I poured every ounce of my soul into loving her: when she left, my universe collapsed. My life collapsed. I envy you sometimes, running off to your Rebellion when you did. At least when you lost the people you loved, you still had a cause to hang on to. But me? Never had your passion. Never had your conviction.

Yesterday was our anniversary. She's been haunting my mind ever since. I see her face behind my eyes every blink; hear her voice inside my mind. Every memory, every whisper, every loving word and caring tone has turned to bitterness, haunting me and taunting me. My heart has turned to dust; I thought, just maybe, I could overwrite some of those memories with new ones. I haven't been, you know, with a woman, since it happened. I thought maybe if I did, it'd help me move on.

It didn't. I was wrong. And I picked the wrong person. I knew it would hurt you. I did it anyway.

Problem is, it goes deeper than that. I don't mourn the loss of her: she showed that she wasn't the same woman I loved when she did what she did. I miss the life. Miss the dream. Miss who I was when I was with her; who I was going to be when we spent our lives together.

I miss the son that will never be, because she- she made him go away.

I don't expect forgiveness. I know I'm too far beyond that now. I have betrayed you, and don't deserve your trust any longer. I just wanted to be as honest as it was possible to be; wanted to end the lies.

I love you, sis. I'm sorry.


Her quarters were empty by the time he arrived. Someone told him that she'd been called up for a special assignment. Bad frakking timing, but hey. The Rebellion was what it was; didn't hang around for personal bullshit. You couldn't take a personal day from trying to overthrow galactic tyranny, right?

The lock was easy to bypass; took seconds. The room was exactly the state of mess he'd expected; same as it had been back on Corellia. That notion left him mournful: he decided it best not to linger.

You can read this when you get back, he thought to himself as he set the datapad gently down on her pillow. And frak Lottie: don't go dying before I get to tell you the truth.