Lese Majesty
(n.): A crime, especially high treason, committed against the sovereign power

He was going as fast as he was able. He was going to kill her. If she was still here, he was going to kill her. She was supposed to contact him if anything had changed. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was supposed to be transferred in a week, but she had warned him that they might try and collect her early. He still thought it was a bad idea for her to leave when she was still so weak. Three weeks-worth of medication put a noticeable dent in her symptoms, but she was still stumbling if she took a step too fast, and she was still worryingly pale. He didn't even want to think about the massive nose bleeds she still seemed to get every night. She had tried reassuring him that they would have her records and adequate medication where she was being transferred, but it didn't stop him from worrying.

It was worry that was propelling him forward now, at full speed, towards the hangar. Worry that he had missed her leave, worry for her well-being, and most of all, worry that this might be the last time he'd ever see her. He tried to pay as little attention as he could to these kinds of thoughts as he hurried up the corridor, but it was almost impossible.

He reached the busy hangar and looked around. At first he saw nothing but the usual business; starships being refueled, flight deck officers talking amongst themselves, and astromechs being tuned. He hobbled as quickly as he could behind shuttles and dodged members of the flight deck crew, looking around frantically. She had to still be here, she had to be. He was coming close to just calling out for her, when he heard her voice. He ducked around a repulsorlift carrying a bunch of containers marked 'spare equipment". There she was, standing at the end of a shuttle gangplank, speaking with an officer in a gray uniform. He approached, relief washing over him. So rarely did he ever actually get to say goodbye to a friend, this time he'd be able to see his comrade off and wish her well. As he drew nearer he caught what the pair were discussing, or rather, what they were arguing very quietly about.

"Just give me two minutes." She said to the officer. He shook his head, looking frustrated.

"We don't have two minutes. I'm taking off in one. If your precious soldier isn't here before then…" but he stopped and looked over Voxx's shoulder right at Jax. So they had been arguing about him. Interesting. Voxx whipped her head around to see what the officer was looking at and a grin split her face. Not even looking to the officer for permission, she hopped down from the loading platform and started his way. Had it really only been seven months? It felt more like a short lifetime since he'd first heard the name Miraan Voxx and been presented to the small, short-tempered woman. It was a little hard to comprehend that after spending most of his life growing close to a group of men who shared his DNA, he had developed a solid relationship in a few short months with a surly female engineer.

Her expression was one of relief, halfheartedly concealed by a bit of wry humor that tugged the corners of her mouth upward. He imagined she could see the same expression mirrored on his face.

"Thought you were going to get away without a goodbye did you?" He asked. She shook her head lightly, coming to a stop right in front of him. She had to look up to meet his eyes as she was a full head shorter than he.

"I've never been good at goodbyes." she said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her bantha-hide jacket. "I wanted to spare you my ineptitude."

"I knew I'd find your weakness one day." She smiled and he could see the strain it took to make it convincing. So she didn't want to go any more than he did. She averted her eyes for a moment and cleared her throat. She really wasn't good at saying goodbye. He felt a twinge in his chest.

"Voxx!" the officer shouted from the ramp. She turned to look at him and held up her hand. He made a 'get-on-with-it' gesture and jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate that the shuttle was waiting on her. Jax heard her sigh and she turned back to him. She tried to smile at him again but it looked more like a grimace. He appreciated the effort though. She held out her hand to him.

"Lieutenant Jax, it has been a pleasure." She said trying to sound stronger than she really was. He grasped her forearm and, to her surprise and his, he pulled her into a one-armed embrace. She tensed up at the sudden gesture and remained so for half a moment. When she relaxed, he felt her wrap her arms around his middle, her hesitation evident.

"Take care of yourself, Miraan." He said low enough so only she could hear. He heard her exhale sharply in what might have been a laugh or a sob, but right then it didn't really matter. He had said what he needed to say, what she needed to hear, and maybe that would help him later on down the road when he was trying to reason out this newest loss. Hopefully it would bring him some kind of comfort that he had thanked her for everything she'd done for him, whether she knew what that was or not.

Then he felt her trembling. It registered in his mind a half a second before he heard the shout.

"Hey! You don't have clearance for that shuttle!" immediately alarms started sounding in his head. He pulled away from Voxx and looked first at the shuttle and then looked his partner in the face. She had drained of color and her eyes were wide as she looked at him. He could almost feel her heart rate rising. She was terrified.

"Voxx?" he asked slowly, his mind going into overdrive. He kept a grip on her shoulder and felt her shaking. The sound of blasterfire ripped through the air and Jax ducked on instinct and instantly regretted it. Voxx, for all she lacked in height, seemed to make up for it in hand to hand combat. She took the hand that he had kept on her shoulder and twisted it forward, doubling him over. Pain bloomed in his shoulder and he hissed. He felt a knee drive itself hard into his ribcage, pushing the air out of his lungs in a gasp. He fell to his knees, supporting himself on his cane. The sound of blasterfire had intensified and sounded like there was more than one belligerent, but his mind registered that as far away irrelevant noise. He sat there gasping for air and felt a hand brush his. He looked to see Voxx looking at him, tears welling in her eyes. Deep in his chest he felt a dark kind of heat beginning to bloom like a noxious cloud ready to strangle him.

Liar. His mind said as she turned her eyes from him as if he were viewing a slow-motion holovid. Traitor. She looked at him again, her tears spilling down her face onto her pale cheeks. She placed a hand softly on his cheek and he tried to pull away. Imposter. He saw her mouth move but the sound didn't register. All he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears and the silent accusations that were rushing through his head. He felt a sharp pricking pain in his neck and he felt his head grow heavy. Liar! His vision swam and went dark.

Traitor!

"I'm so sorry, Jax."