R & R [ Mandalorian Empire & Friends ]

[Khia Varad]

Ithiel's [member="Isley Verd"] son's toast would probably be poignant, Khia’s was just loud as she took hand to her glass. “Ijaat to Manda’lor!” <<Honor>> Khia said with volume, Varad around raising their glasses to join her! Shouts about war, battle, life, love, were made from their, especially her Varads nearby.

Tellingly her eyes hadn’t left [member="Nyx"], touch of toasting glass slowly accepted as she felt fire on her tongue, eyelashes closing, and placing her glass down, nodding. Did Khia have blush upon her face, yes she did, subtle rosy tint across her cheek. “Vor entye” <<Thank you>>. Flattered by her talk of Yaga.

Khia had taken few lovers, probably showing, but those she had taken she wore out! Warrior-women slid her legs forward, slowly but very definitely, standing, to pick up fresh glass. Edging her hips sideways, and pouring Nyx blue fiery drink. Taking step towards her, offering her glass to lay her hands against. Rolling her glass softly to stir and mix. She might feel brushing hand touch Nyx’s if she accepted, intentionally making her touch known.

Standing tall, “Copikla’able” <<Desirable>> deeper eyes tracing outline of Nyx’s speaking lips. Dropping back close enough to hear quieter words, excuse to be closer. Tension there, like she could snatch her out of her chair, and might at any time, also… Feeling Hotter here, aware of her own hands, Khia was pressing them to her sunbed.

Silence, best kind of silence. Kind you couldn’t or didn’t know what to call.

[member="Nyx"]​

 

[Kas Varad]

Kas was one of the only ones there in armor. Why was Kas in armor, because someone had to guard the place while others let their hair down, and he spent most of his off time drinking anyway. Armor red, marked and proud of it of the Varads. Half of his life he was drinking in some bar. His only real purpose here was to walk on over to Nicair and pour him a drink from the Corellian whiskey bottle he was holding, saluting the Mandalor’s toast as he did so and another, “Haili cetare” <<Enjoy!>> Slapping [member="Nicair Claden"] on the back and then going off to find someone to flirt with shamelessly. Corellian whiskey he'd given him, might be genuine but with the planet breaking in half, supply wasn't exactly plentiful! If it was genuine he'd just got a heck of a gift. Never could tell with Kas.

Red armor, hot sun, he was surely sweating underneath and used to it. Taking up stool at the bar to prop himself up in a usual spot, he soon found himself chatting away to one of the locals. Aside from toasting, not drinking himself for once, but more than enjoying her company! He'd even laid a few credits out for information, and had mention of a job coming up, not a bad day!

Kas is here for background posts only, to introduce him.

[member="Nicair Claden"]​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor's eyes traveled over the new face only for a moment. When you were as seasoned as a Jen'jidai, whether someone had fighting spirit or not became obvious without a real glance. Mandalorians probably had similarly honed instincts, and so, this man (by virtue of association) probably already registered Alkor as some kind of threat. Whether or not that would discourage his curiosity remained to be seen. Alkor knew immediately that this [member="Slade Zambrano"] character did not pose any kind of danger to him. Not in the least. It was interesting that [member="Keira Ticon"] allowed him to kiss her, let alone refer to her as "love." Relationships had always been such a silly thing to Alkor, and she had not struck him as the type to waste her time with them.

Ah, well. Alkor had been wrong before.

His azure gaze left the two and turned toward the sea. Whatever their fascination with the contents of his rectum, the conversation bored him. Gone were the days where people said things that actively grasped Alkor's interests. There were once men who did not need to work hard to conjure topics that made him want to contribute. Aside from what happened in booze halls and in the heat of battle, few still among the living had that ability. These Mandalorians enjoyed their talk of war when the time was right, but Centaris was quickly learning that they were no different from anyone else during times where there was no turmoil.

It came to his mind that he might be the odd one, and they might think of him in the same way that he did them. Not that he cared, of course. It was a source of dry amusement at best. He folded his arms and watched the skyline where it bled together with the sea, reminded of the days he spent as a child back home on Corellia. Time had changed everything, and there was no way to go back. There was no way to see the things he had loved, and that knowledge was the closest thing to true sadness Alkor had experienced in a very long time.

Somber was the best adjective to describe him in that moment. His shoulders sagged only slightly, and a long breath escaped from between his lips. He swirled the whiskey in his hand with a slow spinning motion, then lifted it to his mouth and took a sip. It burned again, but marginally better this time.

"I should get going," he said finally. "I'm not one for these... whatever this is."

 

[Keira Priest]

It was a shift of the hand most would have missed entirely, but being who she was Keira detected it almost immediately. To her credit she didn't retaliate in any manner other than that of the verbal sort. "I would be mindful of just what company you're in." No thinly veiled threats or allusions to violence. Just an indication that she had noted the weapon towards which his hand had drifted and that the gesture wasn't appreciated. He might have been her brother, but she wasn't above this thing called tough love. Besides, she was Corellian by blood and Mandalorian by adoption. Such a thing was ingrained into her DNA by default.

That she allowed Slade to approach in such a manner was certainly an oddity to those that had either known her in the past or just met her, but to those that had observed her metamorphosis through the years it was natural. Taking the drink she offered him the cigarette in return, flashing a smile at his apparent interpretation of the Mando'a. "You speak that language now, cyar'ika? I didn't think you cared for the Mandalorians." It wouldn't be entirely too wise of him to admit to such a thing even if it were true, given just where he stood, but her husband's tongue was even less tame than her own when it came to speaking his mind.

Raising her own glass to her lips she sipped at the whiskey, able to sense something decidedly off about Alkor moments before he spoke. But he wouldn't be allowed to leave so easily. He was one of them now, and perhaps just as importantly, he was Corellian like herself. And so she took a chance, speaking to him in a tongue most that hailed from the now broken world would find unfamiliar. There were a few, however, who preserved the tradition, and for some reason he struck her as one of them. "Doko prek anuda ten?" He did. She already knew he did. This was just a test of whether or not he would grace her with a response, regardless if it was in the same tongue.

[member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Bolt]

"Father, he did not show, you cannot take that as my only chance to meet my grandfather!" Adriel shouted across the dining hall of the Misao Estates on Tera Lush, "Neither of us understood what was truly happening, so it shouldn't count that he did not show!" Taking a breath slowly, she exhaled, leveling her gaze on the Ancient man across from her as he calmly ate his evening meal, "I will go with or without your blessings father..."

Fos, Damien as she knew him - or father - paused his hand halfway to his mouth. A momentary flare of bright lavender brilliance shown through his otherwise blue eyes, before he finished the trajectory, savoring the meat before speaking, "Your sister is there. Give her my love."

"What-" Addy began before the world around her blurred, dimmed, then became brilliantly bright. The inside of her home had been dark, with drapes drawn, and little light, as she and her father had excellent low light vision. Now she was outdoors, and it was clearly not so dark. Staggering back, Adriel covered her eyes as she slipped. Falling onto her rump in a tumble she growled.

"Ass." She muttered under breath, knowing in all likelihood he was watching her even at this moment, as if she was a holodrama.

Slowly standing, Adriel turned as she sought the little girl that had once been her other half.

[member="Avaritia Daemon"]

 

[Izevel Zambrano]

.

 

[Avaritia Daemon]

She would be able to feel her twin anywhere. So when that familiar feeling flickered across the force. The little girl would come to a complete standstill, her her head cocking to the side before she dashed forth from the room. Running through the various hallways, it wouldn't be long before she skidded to a stop before the unfamiliar yet familiar woman.

"Ads?" The utterance of a nickname given onto her twin would be the one significant sign that she on a fundamental level knew this woman.

[member="Tempist"]

 

[Bolt]

Adriel dropped to her knees, sweeping the smaller of the twins into her arms, "Yeah Ava, its me." Adriel said, biting back the tears at having the chance to finally see her sister after two hundred years and more, "How ya been? Not the older twin anymore huh?" She chuckled, wiping at her eyes, a joy filled smile emanating proudly.

"Sorry its been a while. There was an accident... let's just say I'm way older." She found herself having a hard time not hugging her little big sister now, so she leaned back to examine the girl, "You get taller?"

[member="Avaritia Daemon"]

 

[Slade Zambrano]

Taking the cigarette in hand Slade pressed it up to his lips and took a drag before exhaling the white smoke into the air. If there was one vice the man couldn't give up it was certainly lady tobacco and her stress reliving vibes. But even tobacco wasn't going to make him not be weirded out by the guy in front of him. He was one of those, my parents were dead and everything I love is gone kind of individuals. You know, the exact ones you didn't invite to the party. So as he was having his random contemplation and stare out at the sea, Slade looked to his wife and raised an eyebrow.

"He having an aneurism?" Slade asked as he flicked some ash from his cigarette.

Slade would then look to Keira and give her a very uncomfortable look that was one half WTF and the other scolding for hanging out with weirdos like this guy. And he was going to say something about it until the man suddenly came back from his day trip to internal monologue island to say he shouldn't be here, and he was pretty right about that.

"Uuuh, yeah?" Slade said as he placed the cigarette back in his mouth.

"Moose, might we have a word in private." He said as he put his hand around Keira's waist and started to pull her back a bit so they could have a small talk about not introducing your husband to sociopaths.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

For a moment, time had stopped.

Dubrillion froze over and the crystalline frame shattered, and Alkor stood on the warm beaches of Coromon Prime as X-wings jetted across the pale blue sky. Keira's words reached him in that far away place, and like the wind they washed over and felt utterly familiar. She asked if he spoke the language, but the truth was something far more hideous than he would ever openly admit. Corellians valued their culture almost as much as Mandalorians. It was not uncommon for them to keep Olys Corellisi alive within families for the sheer pride it instilled. Even Alkor, with a coked out mother and no father, learned to write and understand it at a young age. He learned from the spacers who frequented Coronet City's spaceport, and from seedy smugglers who kept to themselves just outside the bars.

Alkor felt the warmth of his lost homeworld glide gently past his face, though it was forever gone from his reach. Hundreds of years had past and his sins had been forgotten, but the world fell victim to some harrowing galactic tragedy. It was nothing short of laughable how fate intended to keep him from seeing it all again.

For the fifteen or so seconds that her words caused him to reflect on his life, Alkor stared directly at Keira. She might have seen the action as no more than him considering the words, or she might read further into it than that. In any case, Alkor did not respond verbally to whether or not he could understand her.

"Speak basic like a cultured person, I don't understand your Mandoese."

The Dark Jedi broke his gaze away and glanced back at the rest of the party, where everyone seemed to be drinking and flirting, and god knows whatever else people do at these things. Alkor knew he was out of place, and [member="Slade Zambrano"] agreed with him. Maybe that was more telling than anything about how quickly he should leave them to their enjoyment of the scenery.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Ithiel Vi'Dreya]

“Be you.” Was all he told her. All she needed, with that he held her to him, and they walked. Drinks, one or two would wet the spirit. Ithiel nodded, and they headed for their bar. Ordering her glass of Emerald wine, he took the same. Exotic enough, he knew nothing of drinks, picking what the barman recommended.

“I’ll need a drink when I meet yours.” He said, as he touched their glasses together. Words given to relax. Truth was he'd rarely had a woman on his arm, sixteen, mandalorian to the bone. Couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline himself, if you could read how he stood or held her on his arm.

“Buir, mirshko bal oyacyir pirusti hiibir” <<Father>> Ithiel said to the toast, <<courage and life well taken.>> Turning to Freyia, “And to you.” He said, to hopefully see her smile.

[member="Freyia Whitelight-Carrick"]​

 

[Keira Priest]

For a moment Keira didn't seem to entirely register the words or touch of her husband, giving [member="Alkor Centaris"] a look that communicated he was a bad liar and she damn well knew it. "No, you might not speak Mando'a. But you do understand Olys Corellsi, don't you?" That faraway look in his eyes was something she recognized, because it was one she herself had worn far too many times in the past. It was the look of someone remembering a facet of their lives that was much better gone forgotten, or one from a simpler time long since escaped from their grasp. "Minmin volgoth noh petchuck." She let him have his peace, leaving him with one final comment, "You might want to start picking up the language, laandur shabuir. Remember, you have a family here, brother."

And then she left him to his own devices, stealing her cigarette back for a brief moment from [member="Slade Zambrano"], taking a drag and passing it back, exhaling smoke into the clear sky. Here was one she could entirely let her guard down around, even if she had wanted him dead upon their first meeting, and was contemplating the same during their second. "You know, he reminds me of how I used to be. That's half the reason I even bothered. And don't tell me you don't see it, too." He was just as emotionally distant and vacant as she had been, and just as if not more so stubborn about letting those walls down, if just for a little while. She took it as a challenge.

"So, level with me." She took another pull of her whiskey, looking her husband dead in the eyes. "You don't like him. Either because you're afraid, or because you're worried I'll get hurt. And you know you don't have to worry about the latter. I can take care of myself. And you, and the twins. I'll be fine." The scars visible on her form would have made most inclined to believe the opposite, but to her they were proof of her ability to survive just about anything and still come out on top. "Somehow I never thought you would be the one out of us to worry so much."

 

[Slade Zambrano]

The first thing Slade did was scoff at Keira's accusations of him being afraid of Anakin Skywalker's biggest fan, it was rather insulting. Slade knew the difference between danger and fear, and from that man there was certainly an ounce of danger. But knowing Keira and how secure his family was there was no fear of what he could do. So he gathered up his words and would make his retort.

"To be honest he was just weird. Not like he was conversationalist of the year with his bountiful dialog." Slade said with a raspy chuckle afterwards.

But then he got a little serious afterwards and took a drag from the cigarette blowing smoke off to the side afterwards. With it still pressed between his lips the man looked at his wife and took one of her hands in his gently running his thumb over her hand.

"You know I... love... you." he said with a slight bit of distaste from the words as if it showed weakness.

Which as a person like Slade and the way he fought, it was best not to reveal your personal attachments around others for the sake of it being used against you one day. But he loved Keira enough to have it be known.

"I'm not saying that you can't take care of yourself, far from it. But we've had a lot of close calls, times where the kids and I didn't know if you were coming home. So listen, I'm never going to ask you to be something you're not. You're a good mother but the kids and I miss and worry about you, and I don't mean to bring this up on vacation but it's not like I get to spend a lot of time with you these days. You're always on deployment. So I just want you to know that you should think about your children, I won't ask you to retire but just think of them." Slade said in a more serious tone before sweetly taking his wife's other hand and holding it in his own.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Freyia Whitelight-Carrick]

Taken back for a moment or two what was just said. Even as their glasses came together. It was that first sip that said a lot. Running down the back of her throat it had that warming feeling. More so they what she had gotten before. The wine itself was very good, even those she wasn't one to be able to tell one wine from another or if it was good or not. In fact could count on he own hand the times she had drank up to now. Needing to stay in control more then anything else for the fact she needed to control a part of her pheromones. If one like her to say hadn't taken a few glances at Ithiel even just her arm wrap around his could feel the closeness, to his body. Nothing more then that was that she was way out of her cofernt zone, it wasn't like there was a library here for her to go hide in, or a book to stick her nose in.

"This is...mmm..lets have some...fun." telling herself right, to let herself know she was doing the right thing by coming.

Wouldn't let on she didn't do this kind of socializing very often no she had to show she new what she was doing. Smile at him as she knew that was something she wanted to do, no matter how small it may have been. Whispering back at him with a smile upon her lips, "My mother is the one you have to look for, my father he harmless, relax we here to have a bit of fun, Right?"

Giving the glass a few more sips before looking up at him again. "Well, your father to pay respect to him.", after all might as well get that over with. Even then on their way she spotted her mother [member="Maya Carrick"] . It was the way she was dressed that maybe told it in her face, to the fact that she had taken off her robe and had put on a suit one that showed all the tattoos and markings of her childhood one that she had shared with her on their long hunts, camp out on Voss.



[member="Ithiel Verd"] [member="Xander Carrick"]

 

[Bolt]

As she spoke to her sister, Adriel sensed an odd tingle in the Force, though she was barely learning to use such talents. Against the edge of her mind, she almost... smelled her mother if you will. But it was not her, it was something more, and less all at once. The energy was... dark? No, but contained a... readiness? To do what was necessary, she evaluated, which equated to the darkness...

Or maybe long before, the being had been dark, and now was better for it.

Turning on her heel, Addy rose to her full height, blue orbs searching the area, she asked Ava, "Do you... feel that?" It was not something she knew how to explain, but she did know that the power was emanating over the area. Strong and vibrant, powerful yet peaceful. It was hard to miss, and she knew her sister, young though she was, to be able to feel things as she herself did.

"Who...?" She asked no one in particular, walking towards the energy she had no way to know was her grandfather's immense swell.

[member="Isley Verd"] [member="Avaritia Daemon"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Not really one to pass up a vacation of any sort, Joza decided that it was convenient to associate herself with the Mandalorians when opportunities like this arose. She’d done a small part in a smuggling run to aid them, so certainly she deserved to be here, yes?

Or she was taking advantage of the fact that she was the Warmarshal’s brat.

Regardless, the pink woman would already be wandering around, sipping on some sort of fruity concoction. After all the stress of recent events, it felt good to be in a more welcoming environment. Still, she hadn’t completely shaken the shackles of slavery off. Occasionally she would catch herself freezing up, glancing around for the Gamorrean guards she was sure were going to pop up out of nowhere. A few drinks were enough to work her out of that though, falling back on the familiar feeling of indulgence.

After meandering around poolside, a darkly clothed figure caught her eye. A brow arched. Not the sort of attire one would wear to a resort, but the Mandalorians had all types, it seemed. She was honestly surprised that there weren’t more helmet clad men walking around in swim trunks, but alright. Though, even she was not dressed as skimpily as one would assume a Zeltron would be—a casual sundress and light cardigan over her shoulders to obscure the majority of her scarring was all that she wore.

Perhaps a bit surprisingly, her gaze lingered on [member="Alkor Centaris"] for a few moments more. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place a name to the face, or if she’d ever formally met him before. A spark of recognition lit up her eyes after another second, and she made her way over to the man who looked like he didn’t want to be bothered.

“You’re that man from Ruusan. The one who attack Orcus with Connor.” Pausing to take a sip of her drink, she lowered her glass and continued for the sake of clarification. “The whale-man. Orcus, not Connor. Thank you for that, by the way.”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He recognized her in passing from the meeting on Korriban, wherein Nikias had called on the Dark Jedi.

She did not feel as one of the dark might, curiously. Alkor assessed her before his eyes wandered to meet hers, and at that point he simply nodded. "Miss... Perl, was it?" he asked. "I vaguely recall the situation on Ruusan," he spoke honestly, "but it is an experience I have made an effort to forget." Although brief, his encounter with the other Jen'jidai left a lasting scar that the Corellian exile had no wish to rip the bandage from. "However, I am always glad to thwart the efforts of Sith."

His eyes did not wander over her body, though a more normal man might have found her form quite appealing despite her somewhat conservative attire for a Zeltron. Alkor instead took notice of her facial features, including the expression she wore for the encounter. It started inquisitive and quickly morphed into something else. Whatever it might be was lost on Alkor. "So you are with Thurion's Sanctum," he uttered thoughtfully. "What is it that brought you into this den of Mandos?"

Keira and her husband had gravitated off to another side of the area, which left the Dark Jedi alone with [member="Joza Perl"]. While not necessarily uncomfortable with the woman's presence, normal conversation was a bit outside his skillset. He made sure to grab an ale off of the tray of a serving droid as it flitted by, then took a quick, hearty swig of the pale liquid. It wasn't Corellian by any stretch of the imagination, but it would serve the purpose just fine.

All around, people spoke about things he did not understand, and half of them barked in a language he did not understand. Only recently had Alkor adopted the culture- or was it that the culture had adopted him? Things were different in these ranks. People were like family, and he was coming uncomfortably close to people in a way he never had before. It wasn't acceptable to intimidate people into compliance, nor to kill allies for insubordination. Their honor was the same in ideal, but the methodology was far and away different from anything he learned alongside his former brothers.

It was a whole new lease on life.

But it was totally beyond his comprehension.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Mhm.” The Zeltron peered up at him from behind the rim of the glass, taking another sip of her drink. It was very sweet, and the sugar was likely to make her ill from it rather than the alcohol. “Joza Perl.” She added, feeling that “Miss” was a bit too formal. Her brows scrunched downward, a bit confused as to how one could forget the events of the invasion. Though a moment later, she realized that perhaps it met more to her than it did to others. For some, it was just another battle. For her, well…she’d probably learned a valuable lesson. What it was, she did not exactly know yet. Don’t fall in love with Sith? Yeah, that works.

The pink woman hadn’t been too keen on what was going on around her at the time, and thus had missed the majority of Alkor’s battle with Orcus. With that in mind, she wasn’t exactly sure who triggered their Netherworld detour, but had accepted that it happened. That being said, she wasn’t sure what exactly had happened to the Dark Jedi to make him want to place the battle out of his mind, but would respect that it was not a good conversation topic to delve in to. People had their reasons, and although she had questions, they would likely fizzle from her mind quickly.

She bobbed her head in agreement when he mentioned stopping the Triumvirate—or Sith, in general—as he’d answered one of her unspoken questions. That’s right, he was present at that meeting Nikias held. As far as she knew, the group was still against Sith and sought to halt their influence.

When talk of the Sanctum came up, she nodded once more, perhaps appearing a bit childish in her manner. There was a carefree undercurrent to her movements and speech, as though she were truly glad to be relaxing on a resort rather than getting tossed around like a ragdoll on a battlefield. “I am.” She affirmed, giving her drink a subtle swirl. Briefly, her gaze would settle on the pale pink liquid before moving back up to assess the Dark Jedi before her. He seemed a bit introverted, perhaps? Nothing wrong with that.

“My old man is a Mando. Some kind of a Warmarshal.” Her eyes followed the motion of his hand as he retrieved a mug of ale and took a heavy drink, mirroring the movement herself with a more delicate sip of her cocktail. “You could say I’m here to reap some familial benefits.” Pausing, she studied his face for a few thoughtful moments. “I’m sorry,” There was a hint of an apologetic tone in her voice. “I don’t remember your name.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Warmarshal's daughter sounded exotic and irregular, which caused Alkor to pause for a moment and consider her once more. The closest kin to most warlords and militant leaders he had known in the past were generally tight lipped, prim, proper, and above all clean cut. An air that lingered about Joza indicated that she was none of those things, and that if anything she was open and tolerant to many people and many things. Alkor could not get a sense of why, but he recalled vaguely that Nikias had fought and bled for this woman. For Centaris, that was enough.

"Familial benefits," he repeated the words thoughtfully, though he was thoroughly uncertain as to what she meant. His gaze sifted through present company and he decided it could have been a matter of relaxation, sexual deviance, something else entirely, or some hybrid of all those things. In that respect, she was doing far better than he. Alkor suffered from a chronic inability to calm down. "I see." He did not.

When she mentioned that his name eluded her, his lip drew up in a half-smirk. It was not unusual for him to fall to the wayside or be forgotten. "Alkor," he told her. "My name is Alkor Centaris."

There was a silence for a moment before he turned to face the reddish hue of the Dubrillion sunset, and he gestured toward the scene. "This planet reminds me a bit of-" he stopped himself short of saying "home"- "somewhere I haven't been in a very long time."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"I love you too. More than anything." Her voice was hushed as she spoke, the words meant only for him, and she squeezed his hand gently. Everything he said was meant with only the best intentions, she knew, but that didn't make it any less difficult to process fully. The life of a warrior was the only one she had known for years, and the idea of that changing was a difficult one to accept. Still, Keira knew it was for the betterment of family and those that truly cared about her, but at the same time her family was comprised entirely of warriors as well. Besides, she was best suited to protect those she loved on the battlefield, or so her experience had led her to believe.

For a long moment she looked down at her bare feet, brow furrowed in thought as he took her other hand in his as well. Once a few seconds had passed dark eyes raised to his own, attempting a smile. "I know where you're coming from, and believe me when I say I understand your concern. But it's not like any of this is easy to give up." It was difficult to abandon a lifestyle when you had been all but molded to fit it and nothing else. There had been a few years where she had been regarded as nothing more than another weapon and treated as such, and that mindset was something she still found herself struggling with at times to this day. It was why she felt so at home on the battlefield, because that still felt like the only thing she was really good at.

"I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you and the kids in a house on some planet far away from all the constant wars, but you know I'm not meant for something like that just as much as I do. No matter how far I go, I'm always going to want to come back. It's who I am, and I wish that wasn't true, but it is." She squeezed his hands again, and even if there was no sensation of touch in her left thanks to the cybernetic, it was a comforting gesture all the same. "Sometimes I think the combat is the only thing keeping me sane, and others it's like the only thing preventing me from having a normal life. Either way, it's impossible for me to let go. It's a part of who I am. And I'm sorry for that."

[member="Slade Zambrano"]