Frenemies

[Tasha Blackwell]

She had already become suspicious when Gil hadn’t shown up for any of the planning sessions for the next warehouse they were going to target. Gil was many things, but he wasn’t exactly unreliable. He had always shown up on time, and this was the first time he let her down. Tasha didn’t think too much of it, though it did irk her and made her rethink bringing him along.

After she had gotten a comm call from him, she had heard nothing but his choked voice and some raspy breathing. She could hear a woman speaking in the background, but it sounded very suspicious. Tasha kept the line open, working to track the signal and pinpointing it. She was a paranoid and suspicious person by nature, and the strange call was enough to prompt her to send local authorities to investigate.

By the time they had gotten there, they found a near dead Gil and an abandoned home. He was immediately taken away to a medical facility and everything was done to ensure he didn’t slip away. His spine had taken damage and his legs were useless, and it was still being determined whether the effects were permanent.

Tasha was told the news, and she half considered leaving it alone. It was not in her nature to truly care what happened to others. The very fact that she had called for people to investigate was bizarre for her, but few things made sense with Gil. In the end, she growled to herself and decided to make her way over, still annoyed at putting her plans on temporary hold.

She waited till she was told he was awake and conscious. Tasha slowly made her way over to the room, standing at the doorway and crossing her arms over her chest. There was no quip or smirk from her this time, her yellow eyes narrowed as she took in sight of him, “What happened?”

 

[Gillian Rel]

He wasn't what had happened. He woke in a hospital room. He tried to sit up and pain almost made him go unconscious. A woman was standing over him, he was suddenly filled with fear, memories flooding back. No, this was just a nurse, not Cait. He reached down, feeling the bandages across his stomach.

"What happened?" he asked the nurse. At least he thought he said the words out loud. She didn't respond to him, checking several monitors and type information into a datapad.

He slipped in and out of consciousness. He opened his eyes, getting the distinct feeling he was being watched. The pain had faded, but that was due to the high amount of pain killers they had him on. He glanced up and saw the familiar Pantoran face. "Kriff.." he said, his head falling back to the pillow. He had called for someone, had he called her with his comm? He couldn't remember. It was 50/50 shot she would have even answered, but considering what had happened, that was probably the best he was going to get.

He tried to think of something funny to say but nothing came so he decided to answer honestly "I was stabbed by one of those laser swords." he said as he waved his hand around, forgetting the term lightsaber. The sudden movement was too much, even on painkillers. He winced in pain before dropping his hand. He looked up at the ceiling, more memories flooding in.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

He was still out of it, and was in no position to answer clearly. Tasha’s jaw tightened, and she wasn’t even sure why. There was a flare of rage that went through her, and she justified it by thinking that it was simply because it made him immobile and unable to complete her objectives. Tasha walked towards him, a vacant gaze in her eyes.

She raised a hand and began to coil the Force around his mind, wanting to extract the thoughts for herself so she could easily piece everything together. However, she paused when she looked at him, noticing how weak he looked and how broken he was. She was used to simply getting whatever information she needed without asking, and with a mind addled by drugs, it would be all too easy.

“A lightsaber,” She said quietly, reminding him of the word. Tasha stepped closer to him, glancing down at the wounds on him. Did he know he couldn’t walk? He had to know he couldn’t feel his legs by now… Tasha wasn’t very good at these things. She stood there stiffly, wondering if she was better off just leaving.

“Tell me what you remember,” She had a wild suspicion on who did it, but Tasha wouldn’t jump to conclusions.

 

[Gillian Rel]

"A Lightsaber." he said mulling over the word. "Yeah, A Lightsaber," he said trying to get up and nothing moving. Was he strapped down? "Take these straps off of me so I can sit up," he told Tasha.

"I need to go get Cait, stop her from...." he said trailing off, his mind continuing to clear. "No..that's not right," he said. His eyes grew distant, filled with a mixture of fear and sorrow. "She did this." he finally said, barely above a whisper. "I went to stop her or," he said trailing off "I don't know," he said

His brain finally caught up to what was going on. His legs weren't strapped down, they just weren't moving. He became somewhat agitated. "I need to get up," he said. "I need to get up.," he said repeated, panic building in his voice.

He pushed himself up, fighting through intense pain. Alarms started going off on the monitors hooked to him. His eyes blurred, darkness filled the edges, the pain was almost unbearable.

A nurse walked in and ran over to the side of the med. "You need to stop moving or I am going to sedate you! You're going to hurt yourself more!" she yelled. Gil's eyes were distant, still filled with panic. "I..I just need to get up," he said to the nurse.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha’s eyes furrowed as he began to talk about Cait and going to get her. However, when he finally blurted out that she had done this, it was as if she had been hit in the face, “What?” She hissed, not believing him at first. Cait had always been kind to the point of it being excessive, especially for someone as rough as Tasha. The Pantoran eyed Gil for a moment, her mind exploding into a million thoughts. She couldn’t fathom what would ever make Cait do something like this, especially as she had grown very fond of Gil.

When he began to struggle, Tasha realized he didn’t realize he couldn’t walk. She stepped forth and finally used the Force to slip into his mind and tug away at his consciousness. It would put him into a state of ease and as if he were in a place where he was half awake and half asleep. This also allowed her to glimpse into his mind, digging around till she saw bits and pieces of what happened. She saw the flash of the saber, and she saw Cait with the yellow eyes. Tasha didn’t linger too long, coming out of his mind. She had meddled just enough to where he would think they were the effects of drugs.

“And so she did,” Tasha muttered flatly, her jaw tightening. She pulled out her comm and took a picture of Gil, followed with a caption and explanation to the sub bosses within the Exchange she was aware of – Namely Nor’Baal Fanth. It was also the first time she had spilled that Cait was Sith – something Tasha suspected from having seen her at the funeral. Putting that fact and seeing Gil’s stabbing together was simple enough, and it was more than enough to reveal what had happened.

After the messages were sent, Tasha returned her focus to Gil, remaining silent for now. He would still be in a jumbled place mentally, but she would wait to see if he had anything to say.

 

[Gillian Rel]

A blind panic filled as mind as the nurse struggled to get him to calm down. Tasha approached him and he grabbed her forearm. It was like the winds were taken out of his sails. He slumped back down, consciousness fading. It was then he saw the flashes of images, the sadness, the anger, the pain..so much pain. The reality of the hospital room blended with flashbacks, Tasha's face shifting between her's and Cait's, sickly yellow eyes looking down on him. His hand slipped from her arm, falling to his side.

Then everything went black.

A doctor would come in and explain to Tasha his injuries, assuming she had some sort of injuries. The only treatment for such heavy injuries to the spine would intensive treatments submerged in Bacta. It would be a long recovery time, and expensive, but Gil had the credits. The doctors were carefully optimistic about his chances of regaining the use of legs.

Sometime later he blinked his eyes open, the panic he had felt was still there but it was distant, in the back of mind. His mind somewhat cleared as his medications had been lowed in preparation for the beginning of treatment but this put him in no small amount of pain.

"Tasha.." he said noticing the woman in the room. Earlier had seemed like a dream, well, a nightmare to him. He was glad she was actually here. "I guess I owe you big time, huh?" he said quietly. His mouth and throat were so dry, it made talking difficult. She had never been one to believe in saving anyone, viewing almost every single person in the Galaxy as a replaceable resource. Maybe her new life was making her soft, it wasn't something he would bring up, now at least. "Thank you." he finally said, meeting her yellow eyes.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Gil would be in recovery for a very long time, and she guessed she would need someone else to help her finish the job to get the factories she needed. Tasha kept focusing on that instead of the nagging side of her that actually had bits of worry. The Pantoran had always looked out for herself and no one else. She had survived just fine staying in her own lane and keeping her gaze forward, never bothering to look over.

Gil frustrated her in many ways, and this was one of them. Why had she bothered to call authorities on him? Why did she give a kriff that he remained alive? Her rage at Cait was far more than she would have expected, but she explained that away due to the woman never allowing her to rise through the ranks. Tasha’s gaze was far off, her mind wandering away from Gil because it was simpler not to focus on him.

When he spoke, she tilted her head to look at him, grimacing as he thanked her, “Please,” Tasha muttered, “I only need you ready and able to nab some factories,” She crossed her arms over her chest, back to being her usually aloof self. Her eyes scanned over his legs again, remembering that he was temporarily unable to walk.

“You will need to keep a low profile,” Tasha said finally, “I don’t know what you did to piss Cait off, but she’s a Sith,” She didn’t know how much of that he knew, “She was reported to be at a Sith gathering a long time ago,” Tasha didn’t want to admit she herself had been present there as well, “If she wants you dead, she won’t back off.”

 

[Gillian Rel]

He looked away from Tasha and up the ceiling above him as he let out a chuckle which brought on a small coughing fit. "Yeah yeah..." he said, grinning as he looked upwards. "I'll get you your damn factories," he said lightheartedly. He wasn't looking for a "moment" or anything, Tasha wasn't that kind of woman.

When she moved on, he let her do so. "Oh come on..." he said finally tilting his head back towards her. "When do I not keep a low profile..." he said.

She was right, Cait had obviously gone off the deep end. The sooner he could get mobile again the better. He looked down at his legs, well as mobile as he could be. The thought of being paralyzed for the rest of his life scared the shit out of him. He took a deep breath, not letting himself fall back into panic. He had been rolling the dice all of his life and had always come out on top, this was just another one of those times.

"I knew." he said looking away from her. She had told him what she was and he didn't listen. He had been an idiot. "She told me a while ago what she was. I guess I didn't really take it seriously...things were all moving so fast." he said referring to multiple things. The Exchange was exploding in size, the credits started flowing in, but things were also moving fast with Cait. "Then she told me she started training the some..Darth?" he said trying to remember the term she had used "Victory? Victiss? Something like that." he said waving a hand. "Whatever happened there drove her over the edge.." he said. Tasha probably didn't care but he needed to tell someone, unload whatever this shit was.

"I didn't think she would do it..." he said trailing off "...I didn't think she would do it.."

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

In a way, Tasha wasn’t entirely surprised that he had known about Cait being Sith. He seemed the foolish type to try and see the best in people despite them dropping bombs like that. She didn’t move any closer to him, her mind processing quickly everything he was saying. Beyond just what happened, Tasha began to wonder just how deep the Sith had their hooks in the Exchange, and whether it wasn’t simply a faction that existed within them. Did Varyn authorize all this? She knew him on a personal level, and it irked her that he had never mentioned the Exchange.

Her mind came back to Gil, eyes narrowing slightly, “Victress,” She said quietly, similar to how she had reminded him of the term lightsaber. Tasha had seen the woman a few times, the latest being when she had stopped a fellow Crusader from killing the Sith Lord right there. Victress didn’t have a very respectable reputation among the Sith, and most guessed she had simply snaked her way to the top instead of displaying any true feats of strength. Her rise was more favorable to the Republica way of thinking, not the Old Empire.

“Of course she would do it,” Tasha said flatly after Gil trailed off slightly, “That’s why you never lower your guard. You always criticize me for having such a cynical perspective, but look where your rose-tinted views got you,” She shrugged, “Should always put yourself first or people will take whatever they can from you,” Tasha’s eyes roamed over his legs again, “I will tell you this, however…” She paused for a moment, “Becoming a Sith does not spark anything entirely new. It only adds fuel to a fire that was already burning. People don’t change night and day by becoming Sith. They only foster and perpetuate darkness that was already within them,” It was part of why she had never truly fit in with the Sith. She had similar goals, but at the core, it was never who she was.

 

[Gillian Rel]

”Yeah...that could be it.” He said looking back up at her curiously. How did she know who this person was? He knew the name Sith, knew that is was some sort of order that had turned into an Empire. The soldiers he saw on Nar Shaddaa was like any other soldiers though, they were normal and certainly didn't have the power Cait had shown him. The anger and pain Cait had shown him in her mind still haunted him, causing him to shiver.

He still didn't want to believe it, didn't want to admit she would do this willingly. He listened as she spoke, where he usually would dismiss the familiar argument the two had, he listened, really listened. Maybe she was right. He had let his love for Cait blind him to who she truly was. That saddened him, what was the point of any of this if it you had to be alone to keep it.

She then spoke more of the Sith, she seemed quite knowledgeable about them. They hadn't really spoken any of her past. He knew there was much more to her story than just being a dancer. That made him a bit nervous, but he let it go. If she wanted him dead she could have just ignored his call. It's not like he could anything to stop someone from killing him now anyway.

There was still a part of him that thought he could save Cait if only he could get to her. That was a worry for another time, he had to get out of here. He was quiet for a bit “Your cynicism is kriffing annoying….even when you do happen to be right. Scratch that. It's actually more annoying when you're right.” He said.

“So I guess you're heading back?” He asked. She was busy and had a company to build. She had done more than enough to ensure he would owe her for a long time. The thought of being alone in this place was not a pleasant thought, even if his current company was not the encouraging type.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha had to grin as he mentioned it was annoying when she was right, “You must be always annoyed then, because I’m right most of the time,” She said with that same smile. Tasha may have lacked a lot of things, but an overabundance of confidence wasn’t one of them. She had been this way for as long as she could remember. Very few things ever poked at the steely resolve she had, and one of them was lying uselessly in a hospital bed across from her this very moment.

She had a caf in her hand from having been here for a few hours. She finished it as he spoke, asking if she were going to head back. Tasha looked at him and quirked an eyebrow, “Why, do you want me to stay and read you a bedtime story?” She asked with the hints of a grin threatening to creep on once more. She had no real rush, but she wasn’t very good at this whole ‘being there for someone’ thing.

Tasha had picked up on him tensing up slightly when she mentioned Victress and the inner workings of the Sith. She hadn’t told him about her past, and she didn’t care to do that anytime soon. Telling someone you were a Sith hours after they had been stabbed by one was in poor taste even for her. She wondered if she would ever share that tidbit, especially as she tried her hardest to dissociate away from them as much as possible.

 

[Gillian Rel]

”More so because you're just a pain the ass…” he said when she suggested why he was always annoyed at her.

He shifted uncomfortably, not able to find a position where he wasn't in pain. He could already tell he was going to hate this place. “If you know any….” He said with a grin. “Oh and maybe just a little bit of whiskey?” He asked, hopeful she had some on her in that kriffing purse of hers.

The same grouchy nurse came in from earlier “Do NOT give him any alcohol. He’s not supposed to have any liquids.” She said coming to check the monitors and jotting down information. “Yeah, do “not” give me alcohol” he said making air quotes around the word not.

The nurse glared at him and then at Tasha and then him again. She finished gathering what information she needed and left, mumbling about how she hated her job someday. “You may actually have someone beaten in the bedside manner department...that's terrifying.” He said.

“Now, about that drink?” he asked again.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

“I’m a pain in the ass?” Her eyebrows rose, “I can’t even count on you to get a job done without getting yourself shish kebabed,” She jutted her chin towards his bandages, unable to keep the scoff from coming. It didn’t matter if he almost died, their dynamic would always remain the same. They bickered like an old married couple sometimes, and it had been like that since day one.

As he asked about whiskey, Tasha’s face scrunched up, “Please, what do you take me fo-” She looked up as the grouchy nurse from earlier poked her head in to yell at them. Tasha’s eyes widened, taken aback by the woman that somehow managed to appear more terrifying than most enemies she had dealt with as a Sith. She scowled as the woman left, shaking her head and muttering a few curses at her.

Tasha tilted her head to look at Gil, “You know, you should be kissing my ass nonstop after what I did,” She reached into her purse, pulling out an unremarkable bottle that looked as if it were juice, “It was a miracle I answered. I usually hit decline when I see your idiot face pop up on my comms,” Tasha tossed him the bottle. It had high concentrated liquor in it that she had made herself. Just whiskey wasn’t strong enough for her, and she often sipped from it when she was bored on missions.

“I take no responsibility if you puke or shit that back up,” Tasha shrugged, walking around in the room. There was a beep on her comm and she looked down, seeing the new bounty posting on Cait. A grin appeared on her face, but she made no mention of it, looking back up at Gil, “So what’ll you do when you stop being a cripple? What’ll happen to the Exchange?”

 

[Gillian Rel]

The Nurse left the room and he looked back to Tasha, eyes expectant. She pulled out a bottle and tossed it to him. "I preferred it better covered in glitter, but if that's what you really want..." he said catching the bottle, grin on his face.

He took off the cap and tilted it back letting a tiny amount fall into his mouth. "Kriffing..." he said coughing a couple of times, sending pain through his body. "are you peeling paint off of speeders with this stuff..." he said taking another sip. It burned, but it was good. He counted himself lucky to even be here to drink at all. Knowing that it was best to not do too much of a dumb thing, he replaced the cap and handed back to Tasha and laid his head back on the pillow. "You're an angel." he said closing his eyes for a minute.

"Besides" he said, eyes still closed "We know that I can handle my liquor way better than you can.." he said opening a single eye slightly.

She then asked the question he had already been asking himself since he woke up. "I..." he said pausing, looking up at the ceiling. "...I don't know." he said honestly. He paused for a moment to think about. "I already had a foot out the door, I guess I just keep going..See where ever I end up." he said "As for The Exchange..kriff it." he said "The Hutts can have it for all I care." he said. He could now see it was too tied up in the Sith, and the Mandalorians seemed to be circling their doorstep. "The Exchange was always meant to be neutral in all this Galactic bullshit. I am not sure if that's possible with what Cait has done." he said.

It was more than that, the business would be a constant reminder of her, of what had happened. He didn't want that. "I guess I start over. I have enough credits to tie me over for a while." he continued. He could very well go find a beach on some remote planet and drink for the next five years if that's what he wanted to do. In the beginning, it had all been about money and survival, but he had made it and now it was more than that. It was about the thrill of the game for him now, it was likely not something he could ever stay away from again.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha had to momentarily think about her dancer days, chuckling at the memories of when she was actually covered in glitter. These past few days were probably the most clothed Gil had ever seen her, and the thought was hilarious. She was constantly in tiny little outfits that left little to the imagination. Going from that to all this new, formal clothing was an ordeal all on its own. She always had a sense in fashion, but she had to get used to actually enjoying having everything covered.

As he mumbled about handling liquor better, Tasha scowled, “I threw up literally five minutes before you had to,” She shot back, crossing her arms over her chest again. It was true that while she drank a substantial amount, she wasn’t exactly the best at holding it all in. Tasha had gotten better about it, knowing to only drink that much when she could even begin to trust the person with her.

When he explained the situation with the Exchange, she was surprised to find that he was so willing to wash his hands of it. Tasha quirked an eyebrow, “You don’t mean that,” She muttered, “That would mean leaving all those girls and everyone else in the dust. Hutts would put collars on them all,” The life of a dancer was grim under the control of a Hutt, “And I can’t imagine galactic hero Gil could stand for that,” She paused for a moment, “Or are you super angry at the galaxy and just want to go say kriff you to everything ‘cause some bimbo acted out?” Tasha began to laugh then, finding the situation oddly entertaining. Though there was nothing funny about it, something had to be said for an entire operation crumbling because one woman went entirely off the deep end.

 

[Gillian Rel]

His grin widened as she got defensive, it was pretty adorable. "All I hear you saying is that I am better." he replied. He felt some burning down in his stomach. That probably wasn't a good idea. He wouldn't let himself throw away his point so soon after scoring it.

She was right. Why did she always do that, make sense. He hated it. "Maybe I just have a good teacher in the "Take care of #1" philosophy" he said. Tasha had packed her things and left abruptly over a year prior. Gil had offered her a job then, she would have risen quickly given what he knew of her skills now. Maybe things would have been different if Tasha had been around, see what was happening. "You always complain about me being a hero.." he argued. It was their classic argument that had started when he had chased after her and several others on Nar Shadda.

He did want to do something. Maybe there was one last thing he could do on his way out, maybe. He would have to do some thinking about it. She knew he would go out of his way to save the girls, but he wasn't going to just escape death only to pick a fight with the rest of the Exchange just to have to slaves freed.

"Which do you want? Hero Gil or the "Kriff it all" Gil" he asked. Not minutes ago she had told him to look out for himself and now this. His stomach protested again, a hand reached down involuntarily. He was better than that, and wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing her warning come true.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha quirked an eyebrow at his question at the end, “Since when does it matter what I want?” There was genuine curiosity in her tone. Most of the time both of them simply operated by their own rules, no matter how much it grated on the other. She could tell being like this bothered him, and there was a lot more to this Cait business than he was letting on. In the end, she had managed to get the best of him, and he had been burned - like most people that put themselves out there did.

None of that was her business, and she wouldn’t dig. Tasha eyed him as his stomach gave a noise, and she scowled, “I’m not sure I wanna be here to witness whatever is about to happen…” She stepped forth and swiped the bottle back from his hands. She kept a measurable distance between them, a grimace on her face as she began to wonder if giving him the alcohol was wise.

After she paused for a moment, Tasha looked at him again, “If your ego isn’t too big, you can always come work for me,” She didn’t think he would bite. He had offered to help out here and there, but she didn’t think he’d be all right actually reporting to her in any capacity. Their dynamic had been very different back at the Lusty Lekku, and it certainly didn’t involve her being his boss.

“You’re annoying as kriff, but you have your uses.”

 

[Gillian Rel]

It shouldn't matter but it did matter to him. He turned his head and looked towards the window, trying not to let on how much it bothered him that had shown through, if only briefly.

She grabbed the bottle, and he didn't struggle for it. His stomach was still protesting from that silly act of defiance. He still didn't respond, the room grew quiet except for the various machines in the room. What was he going to do? He wanted to walk away from it all, knew he wouldn't.

He let out a pained chuckle at the offer. "Probably the only job offer I am going to get with these," he said nodding down at his legs. He didn't have a problem starting over again, or even working for her, even if he had rather complicated feelings for her. It could give him the fresh start somewhere away from this bullshit with the Sith. "Maybe..." he said quietly, tone seeming distant.

She made a joke, which doubled as a backhanded compliment, the closest Tasha ever got to the actual thing. He was lost in thought and did respond with his usual quip back at her. He turned towards her. "What do you think I should do, and not as some company owner, as...you know..." he paused before finishing "...a friend?" he asked, again letting on that he actually cared what she thought. It was a broad question, referring to everything they had been talking about, not the job, though he hadn't specified that.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

“That’s only temporary from what I’m told,” Tasha said as he remarked on his legs. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she wouldn’t even be here if he were actually permanently crippled. Tasha may have had a soft spot for him, but she had her limits. She was mulling over her thoughts when he asked her a question, and even topped it off with a term that gave her pause.

“Friend?” She scoffed, arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t get in the habit of keeping those. That’s how you end up with..” Her eyes roamed over all his injuries before she looked at him again. Tasha didn’t even want to explore what strange dynamic they had. Normally people would call it friendship, but even that word - the idea of any sort of relationship with another person - terrified her. He would be able to sense the nervous shift in her posture.

“You should do what you believe in,” Tasha shrugged, “Like I had been telling you since day one. Your own gang and the people that had your back when it mattered should be prioritized. What did you ultimately gain with this Exchange business? Sure you made a lot of credits, but did you actually give a kriff about it beyond chasing Cait’s tail?” She had told him that everyone looked out for themselves at the Lusty Lekku. Thought it had been little over a year, for whatever reason it felt like centuries ago. Tasha thought about how they said goodbye outside of the bar, and how she never looked back even once.

“You always know the outcome,” She muttered quietly, thinking about his rescue operation, how deeply embedded he had gotten with the Exchange, about how he already knew about Cait being Sith, “And you rush in anyway. You never learn.”

 

[Gillian Rel]

Just wearing the words temporary made him breathe a bit easier. Though he had no doubt it would not be an easy road to full recovery if there was one. There was also the issue of what would happen with his gang and The Exchange. His crew was more loyal than most on Nar Shaddaa but there were still those who were ambitious enough to try and take power if he was gone for too long. He would have to move quickly to consolidate power down to something manageable. He wasn't entirely comfortable with giving away what he had worked so hard for, but it would likely be necessary to give a little so he could keep some.

Her normally had a pretty high tolerance for her hyper-pessimistic way of viewing the Galaxy, but it was wearing thin on him today. They were about as close of friends as people could be in their world. "Yes, friend." he said raising an eyebrow as she grew defensive. "The word won't bite you." he said with a hint of playfulness. He could sense her unease, that both irked him and was satisfying at the same time.

He chuckled a bit at the galaxy's weakest answers ever. He had asked her for advice and she told him to do what he believed in?! He knew she had an opinion, she always did. His eyes narrowed as she continued talking. "How would you know what I cared about, you weren't there." he said looking out the window. "I cared...care for my crew more than just about anyone else on that gods forsaken moon. Where others would have sat back and let others die to make themselves rich, I was out there with them." he said growing defensive. Why had she even come? She could have arranged for all this from elsewhere.

"As for Cait..." he said trailing off "She started out as something different. I know it." he said. He thought back to Tasha's words on the Force, no it had changed her, he had seen it. He wanted to be angry, wanted to argue back but he was too tired, too worn down. He deflated slightly sinking back into the bed.

He grew quiet for a time, thinking about her words, thinking about all the things that had happened that had brought them both to this place. "I don't know what I believe in anymore." he said finally.