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Mordenna had pulled off a robot resurrection before. He wasn't entirely sure he could do it again.
A SPARK was one thing. Lily had the specs for SYN on-hand, which made repairs trivial. Having someone who had built him there and assisting him also helped in defragmenting everything he'd compressed as he got stabbed. In the end it'd been pretty easy, if a little time-consuming to repair SYN and bring him back into this world.
A Codex, though? That was another kettle of fish entirely. Codices were more under Odin's realm of supervision... and Mordenna had gotten the belt for trying to tamper with one before.
"Old man made the damn things," he muttered, staring at a console in the Shadow Chamber. Wiki's brain was suspended in the middle of the containment tube, uncertainly floating as he ran diagnostics. "Of course he gets so protective about them. Which means I ain't got a fucking clue how these things are really put together. I can make some guesses, but unless I up and ask another Codex, I have to go through this blind."
It wasn't as if they didn't have a brain spare or two—but they wouldn't work for Mordenna's purposes. Codices tended to be specialized here and there, set up minorly differently depending on what Odin had intended them to do. That much he gathered by looking at the supply they had. Wiki could be unique—she looked different to what they had in stock. God knows maybe she modified herself, if that was possible. So that left Mordenna to chuck her into the Shadow Chamber to see if it could figure out what was wrong. He had some guesses, but he wanted to be as sure as possible before he went through with this.
That meant he was staring at the terminal as it scanned the brain and compiled data. Mordenna knew that would take a while, and was busy trying to think of what he'd do as it scanned for him. Bothering his siblings was always an option on the table, of course, but he felt a bit... nervous, to go and see Jax. He'd gotten his apologies out of the way when he unlocked the Proving Grounds' doors for him and Eliza, and he'd been excused and thanked then, but he still couldn't help but feel like Jax was holding a grudge. Mordenna knew that he, himself, might've. It was an action uncalled for in a lot of aspects. Granted, it had the effect he intended for, but...
"Not this rabbit hole again," he sighed. "Look, so seeing Jax is off the table, and god knows where Fal-Mai usually haunts. Maybe go bother Eliza for a bit since we're still desperate fools?"
Actually, the thought of Eliza brought up a... dangerous line of thought. Fingers hovering at the terminal, he contemplated what he was about to do for approximately half a second before rapidly tapping through screens to access the files he wanted to see. He couldn't help it, and he could feel the words he said to Eliza echoing back to him; he knew what it was like to have dangerous information at his fingertips. That dangerous information was now staring him right in the face as he looked at the screen in front of him.
The Siren. The name was everywhere as he scanned through the files that Wiki had managed to get into the Avenger's systems as she was rooting around. The files there were pretty much her planned Ascension process... and Mordenna had to say, he was slightly underwhelmed. From what he knew of the process for he and his siblings, Eliza's ordeal would've been rather tame. No intensive psionic "therapy." No year of overloading information. No multiple, defective clones of herself coming before her. There were no planned modifications to Eliza's psionics at all, in fact. Amplification, yes, but no changing of what they were. About the most notable thing in the files he could spot was the addition of an extra set of arms for "expert manipulation of tools at hand." That brought up some Elders similarities to Mordenna and he tried not to think on it.
Maybe to someone like Lily, not as scarred as he, these changes would seem extreme. Changing Eliza, fundamentally, as a human? Keeping her in custody? Taking away her choice in any of it? Horrifying. To Mordenna? To a Chosen? This seemed far too light. Argus's methods were far too friendly.
Argus was an Ethereal that Mordenna could never quite put his finger on. They seemed detached from all proceedings and really never had a Chosen to call their own—though they would've if XCOM were any later. From the few files the Elders forgot to keep Mordenna from, Argus seemed in charge of the Avatar Project almost exclusively. That put a lot of human blood on their hands, as well as no small amount of atrocities in the name of saying a dying race. He'd never seen them at the meetings—it was only through their meddling with Eliza that he was sure they existed at all. These files and how mild they were painted a strange picture. Mordenna just couldn't wrap his head around an even slightly kind Ethereal. They seemed genetically incapable of feeling empathy or anything that might've let them see what they were doing to their "children."
Yet, here a different perspective lay, staring him in the face. He didn't know what to make of it. In lieu of giving it any more thought, he simply tabbed back to the diagnostics info. So, his little venture into the truth just left him with more questions than answers. He was back at square one with no idea of what he should be doing other than blindly staring at the screen in front of him. Maybe he could make something to pass the time—but what? Perhaps you could be truthful for once and actually make something for Jax. True, true—but what? Unlike Fal-Mai, there was nothing quick he could do for Jax that would help out a lot. Covering Jax's weakness was harder as it was a little bit more mental and harder to control than Fal-Mai's sensitive hearing. Perhaps he could ask about making modifications to his gun? Maybe you could teach him how to fire the damn thing. That was also valid.
"Guess it's settled," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's either that or a few new gadgets for myself, and I might as well do something nice for someone else." Might be a little hard for Jax to believe you this time. "We'll, uh. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." Always destroying, never rebuilding, hm? To that, he could offer nothing. He rubbed at his mouth before double-checking to make sure there was nothing he needed to handle at the Shadow Chamber. That confirmed, he made his way to the ceiling vent and escaped the room.
A short trip later and he was back at the Studio—or, at least, the hallway outside of the Studio. For some reason, he couldn't really bring himself to drop in as he did before. He walked up to the panel on the wall, and... nothing. Mordenna found himself gently leaning on the wall right next to the door with his forehead, staring blankly ahead. You lied to him. You know damn well he won't believe you when you go in there and say 'I'm building something for you, no really, I mean it this time.' Sure things between him and Eliza are fixed but that's the price for harmony around you, isn't it? Betcha your reaction to finding out he hurt her just made it all worse.
To his disparaging thoughts, Mordenna didn't have much of a reply, burning holes into the metal of the ship with his gaze as they ran without him stopping them. It's the truth. And it's why you're not stopping me. Odin was right when he said you were worthless. Despite what 'good' you do, you always gotta mess up and make it all for naught eventually. It's just what you do. You're always going to fail. You're always going to hurt someone. You might as well save everyone the trouble and just kick the—
Mordenna suddenly bolted upright, turning on his heel and striding in the opposite direction. No. Yes. Yes, he was absolutely making for Eliza's Quarters. Why bother her? Why even get her involved.
"Because we've been here before," he feverishly muttered to himself, not acknowledging anything but the path ahead of him. "We've been here before and we saw how it went and you may be right about a lot of things but the one thing you never seem to grasp is that I can learn. Eliza said she'd listen to us." She was just telling you that to make you feel like less of a failure. "You want to call Eliza a liar?" Not necessarily, but— "My point exactly. Shut the hell up. I'm not going to take another dive just to satisfy you. She's here for me. Me. I'm not going to be another corpse on her conscience."
If his thoughts had anything else to say, it was all white noise. Mordenna had spite, if nothing else, and one of his new tricks was doing things to spite those nasty, anti-recovery thoughts that sprung up when he felt low.
He passed the door to the Resistance Ring and a hunch made him stop. With a moment's hesitation followed by a burst of determination, he practically smacked the panel. The door slid open, and sure enough, Eliza was reclined on one of the couches with a cup of something hot. She looked up as Mordenna entered, giving him a calm smile. "Hey there, cowboy. What's up?"
"Not much." No, there was definitely something up. He took in a deep breath, blew it out, and then closed his eyes. "Alright I lied. There's. A little more than 'not much' going on right now. Do you... do you got a moment?"
"Of course, Mordenna." When he opened his eyes, it was to a genuinely concerned Eliza, who set aside her mug and patted the space next to her. Taking the invitation, he sat down roughly. He hesitated before he spoke, fiddling with one of the clasps to his armor.
"Liz, I..." He trailed off. How even to start this? Plainly, probably. It was best to come clean, but he just felt so goddamn bad about smacking her with it right out of the gate. He felt like he had to soften her up with a bit of joking before easing into the matter at hand... but he had nothing for jokes. Nothing to make this feel any softer. He sighed, unclipping his armor vest and dropping it to the floor. He needed a bit of support before he got into all of it. "... before we begin, can I. Can I..." God, it always felt so awkward to ask. Asking for a hug felt pathetic. Giving another sigh, this time in frustration, he sat up and opened his arms, hoping his question would be clear.
Thankfully, it was. Eliza came forward and wrapped her arms around his chest, and he quickly returned the favor. The hugs always made him feel better—he could never claim to be a touch-starved person, but Eliza made it feel alright. He knew exactly why that was the case and didn't particularly feel like acknowledging the reason. Regardless, the hug made him a little more bold, and he took in a deep breath to start. "Liz. I've been having bad thoughts again. And by bad thoughts I mean bad thoughts. And... and I remember you saying that going to you about them would be ok, so. Here I am. I want to talk this out instead of—instead of heading up to the damn roof."
That got a squeeze from Eliza, who angled herself to look up at him comfortably. "I'm proud to have you coming to me instead of trying to 'handle' it yourself. I'm happy to talk about what's bothering you. That being the case, any reason these thoughts have emerged?"
"One or two reasons." His eyes slid to the side for a second. "I... I know you two forgave me for lying to the both of you so I could get you guys in the Proving Grounds together, but... but I can't help but feel like I've rightfully lost Jax's trust. No," he said, anticipating what Eliza might say next, "I haven't talked to Jax yet. I wanted to. Not even about the whole potential mistrust thing, I just genuinely wanted to see if I could actually make stuff for him. But I got to the door, and I just thought about how he had no right to believe me and how I'm so hard to be around and just a whole bunch of other shitty thinking on top of that." He let out the rest of his breath, looking back to her. "I want to feel that he still trusts me. I want to believe that I'm not painful to be around. I just have a hard time committing it to memory."
Eliza nodded seriously. "If it helps at all, I find myself liking being in your presence. You tend to come at things with a fresher eye than I do and you've got inventive ways to solve problems—even if they are a bit combative in the moment, it clearly worked, and everyone understood why you did what you did afterwards. You've also got a jovial attitude, and I admit, I'm weak for your brand of sarcasm. Doesn't mean you're painful to be around when you're not feeling the best, of course—I'm happy to be with you like this, as well. I want to help you, Mordenna. And I'll say all of that as many times as is needed." She patted his back. "If you want, I can come with you when you ask Jax about making stuff for him. You don't lie maliciously, in my experience—and regardless, I'm sure Jax would believe you."
"Glad you're such an optimist, Liz," he replied. "I just get to beating myself up so often that it's hard for me to stop without outside intervention. It... it took some willpower to up and beeline for wherever you were when I started on that downwards spiral."
"And I'm still proud that you found that willpower when that happened. It's incredibly strong to reach out for help than try to deal with it on your own. That said, how are you feeling?"
Mordenna gave a lopsided smile. "Better. I... still want to hang here for a bit, and think on bringing you over as I ask Jax a few things. Maybe get another thing off of my chest."
"I'm here until the Elders croak, Mords." She returned his smile. "I'd be glad to hear out whatever you've got for me."
"Right." There was the matter of the other thing he wanted to talk about. Really, it was something he and Eliza shared—and something he hadn't thought much on when Eliza had initially brought it up. Still, it was a problem for him, and he might as well say something about it while he was on this streak of handling what was bothering him. "... y'know how you're afraid to rely on others because you think it'll put a bad image of yourself on everyone else?" When Eliza nodded, he continued. "I... I think I've got a shade of that. It's not as grand as you needing to appear strong because you're leading a resistance—and perhaps I'm less valid in that regard—it's just... me not wanting to be weak. Or seen as weak." He sighed. "My old man drilled a lot of concepts into my head, and unfortunately, a few of them stuck." Almost all of them stuck, really. "One of them was just... being..." He hated saying it out loud. Every time he even thought on that word he heard it in Odin's voice. Which brought the whispers, which brought the memories of the pain. But... he couldn't have that. He'd gotten over it all, right? It hurt in the moment but afterwards he was fine. It was different to Jax's episodes. Or Eliza's. It was different. Of course it's different. They have valid reason to feel and experience that pain. You're merely—
"Mordenna?" Eliza's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked rapidly a few times. He spared a hand to rub at his mouth for a second as Eliza gave him a concerned look. "... is it hard to talk about?"
"Yeah," he managed quietly, settling his arm back around Eliza. "I've said it before, I know, but... Odin made me feel like nothing without him. Worthless." He took in a quiet breath, letting it out calmly. "Just hearing that gives me the creeps. He used it like a goddamn stick whenever I went out line, and now I can't not associate it with him. That's why I'm so hesitant to go to even you for help. He made me think having to rely on anyone by him meant I was just... yeah."
"I very much understand, Mordenna." Eliza leaned against him a bit more, which he wished she wouldn't do—as serious as the moment was, the extended contact was getting a bit dangerous for him. "It's... hard, to imagine that you can reach out for others and you won't be seen as lesser for it. It's easy to think you can handle it all yourself... until you're at the end of your rope and it's almost too late to call for help. Just know that he isn't here, and neither are his ideals. If you want to seek help, know that you can and should do it. I'd be happy to hear you out, and I bet that your siblings would be happy to help as well. I'd imagine it comes with the whole family package, yeah?"
Eliza was way too good at this. Even if a rousing speech wasn't enough to completely clear the notion from his mind, it made him feel a lot better about seeking out Eliza like he did. Not getting judged—hell, getting supported for reaching out for help did a lot to make the thought of doing it again in the future viable. A lot more relaxed than he had been at the start of this conversation, he playfully tousled Eliza's hair. "Damn, Liz. How am I supposed to stay down in the dumps at all of that, huh? Can't let a man angst in his own household."
That was enough to earn a laugh from Eliza, which made him feel even better. Eliza practically radiated serotonin. Which, might be more real than he thought—now that those psionics of hers were unleashed and revealed, they kind of coalesced around her, like the beginnings of a Solace. Well, if she was going to master any psionic ability, he supposed, it'd be the world's greatest Solace. When she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, he went back to paying attention to her. "No sad faces on my Avenger—not for long, anyway. You can get a good cry out of the way before I'm here to help patch things up."
A noble attitude, definitely. Mordenna leaned back against the couch with Eliza in his arms, simply soaking in the moment a bit. Maybe he'd never have Eliza romantically. But, sharing moments like this may very well be enough for him. Certainly helped that she was so free about giving hugs away—and didn't seem to see any awkwardness in this one lasting as long as it had. As long as Eliza wasn't going to point it out, Mordenna wasn't going to let up any time soon. Still, if the Commander was in the Resistance Ring, she had to be in here for a reason. His eyes lazily slid over to the table. "Mind me asking what you were doing in here?"
"Ah, not at all." Eliza freed up a hand to gesture at the screen. "I'd been meaning to stop by the Reaper HQ a long time ago to pick up Elena—Volk borrowed her a while back for an important operation—but he got discovered around the time I was going to go visit and he had to relocate. Something about ADVENT finding their current perch in a Lost City. Well, then a few missions happened after that, we went and got Jax, and then there were other places I had to be. But, my schedule's clear for a second—until we go investigate that cave, that is—so we're going to be stopping by there soon."
The mention of Volk always stirred up those old, forbidden memories in Mordenna. He half-thought to ask the old bastard if he knew anything about Tomko, but he somehow doubted that he'd find anything out from the old wolf. Volk probably didn't look kindly on him still, for being the bane of the Reapers for a solid fifteen years. Might as well give Eliza some good-natured guff about it. "Oh, Eliza, you know Volk and I don't play nice, why make me attend his birthday parties?"
She chuckled. "Because I've got business there, naturally. Put on a strong face and it'll be dealt with sooner than you'd expect. Unless he ropes me into one of those Reaper feasts of his. That might stall things a bit."
"Didn't take you one to eat alien, Commander."
"Trust me," she said, pointing a finger at him, "I don't. I make it a point not to because even back then I was contending with the fact that I might have some unlikely allies that I wouldn't like to look in the eye and say I've eaten some of their kind before."
Mordenna snickered. "Oh, don't knock it 'till you try it, Liz. I think you'd like Sectoid—pleasantly sweet if you cook it right. Tastes like venison."
"No, thanks. I even think of Arachne witnessing me do that and I'll die of shame."
Mordenna laughed again. Bantering with the Commander was just the best thing. Still, he'd let up on her. "Alright, alright, I'll stop badgering you. I just barely can help it with how fun you make it."
"Mordenna, please. I've got enough white hairs as is without you adding a few more."
He smirked, patting her shoulder. "White's a good look for you, Commander. I wouldn't sweat it too much."
She sighed in mock-exasperation. "If I wanted to look like a sorceress I'd be taking fashion tips from Jax, thank you."
Speaking of Jax! Might as well hop off the current train of ribbing he'd jumped on. He'd given it a bit of thought, and well... he was at least feeling up to trying to talk to Jax again. He just didn't know if he wanted to bring the Commander along. This wasn't even his want to not rely on anyone talking; he just... didn't want to seem like he was bringing Eliza to pressure Jax into agreeing with whatever he wanted. Rolling his hand at the wrist, Mordenna switched topics. "Now that you mention everyone's favorite wizard... I think I made up my mind about going back and talking to him. I'm fairly certain I can manage it... but I also want to do it on my own. Not that I don't want your help! But I think Jax will feel more free to deny me if you're not leering... under my shoulder, I suppose."
Eliza nodded, understanding. "If you find that you still can't make it, I'd be happy to walk in there with you regardless. Warms my heart to hear you considering your brother's feelings that much, I must say."
"What can I say?" He shrugged. "XCOM's changed me, as horrifying as that is. I'm hardly recognizable! But, yeah." Oof. He didn't want to break off the hug, but it was now or never for talking to Jax. He'd need all the feel-good energy coming off of this conversation with Eliza if he hoped to make it into the Studio this time. Slowly, he disengaged from Eliza, and she leaned back as he did. "Thanks, Liz. Don't think I can say it enough. I'm damn lucky to have you."
"And I'm lucky to have you, too," she returned. "Goodness knows I wouldn't be able to vent, myself."
"Can't have that," he muttered, standing up and collecting his discarded armor. "I will toss you into a pit of friendship and sympathy, I swear to god."
There was that giggle out of Eliza, which always made his heart soar. She waved him off, going for her abandoned mug of what smelled like coffee. "Oh, move it, would you? Don't just stand there and taunt a tired Commander!"
Hearing that, he pointed at her. "Get some rest, then. It's all fine and dandy to tell me to take it easy every once in a while, but I want you to at least take five every now and again too."
"Alright, alright," she relented. "I just have one more thing to do today and then I'll take the rest of the evening off as we fly over to Volk's. Ok?"
"Good by me." Mordenna gave her a casual salute, walking off. "Good luck, Commander."
"As always."
That left Eliza in the room by herself with a lukewarm mug of coffee. She took a drink of it and mulled over her options as the silence Mordenna left in his wake was palpable. She was glad she was able to help him out—it always put her at ease to settle someone else's problems. Better than to focus on her own, after all. She sighed, idly gazing ahead. Her own problems... come to think of it, she never was going to resolve these feelings she had for Mordenna, was she? Or the ones she had for Fal-Mai, and Jax, and Bradford, and... well, it would be easier for her to list who she didn't have romantic feelings for. Her soldiers proper, for one. Firebrand, but that was because Jolene made her preferences for no one clear, which Eliza would respect. The DJ guy, even if he seemed to have a crush on her, despite knowing nothing about her.
She massaged her head with her free hand. "Really? Is that where the list ends, Eliza? Faction leaders, your own staff, Chosen, is there anyone else you're not willing to kiss? What are you, Captain Kirk?" Eliza gave a tired chuckle. "Regardless..." Speaking of staff, there was one she was meaning to visit today. Taking another moment to simply sit around as she was doing, she then stood up, mug in hand, trudging out of the room.
Her walk towards the Lab was quiet, though at this hour there was a wandering soldier or two, who she nodded towards as she passed them. She felt pretty low-energy today, even more so than usual. Recent events had taken it out of her somewhat, but even then she just felt exhausted. Eliza hoped it didn't come through too much as she made short work of the rest of her coffee. Hopefully that caffeine kicks in. It was Bradford's Death Rattle Coffee, so it'd have her hands jittering within twenty minutes. If it would do anything for her exhaustion was yet to be seen.
Knowing the ship like she did, it wasn't long before Eliza was at the entrance of the Lab. As much as she enjoyed the quiet interior and the sterile scent that hit her nose, there was just... Too many bad memories of this place. Granted, none of them were Tygan's fault, but it couldn't be helped. He was over at the large monitors at the area of the Lab where she was, and he angled his head to look at her as she entered. "Ah, Commander. Do you require anything?"
"Maybe." Eliza walked closer, setting her mug down on one of the nearby tables, hands then clasped in front of her. "How's everything going on your neck of the woods?"
"Progress is slow, but sure," he replied. "I've been working on the coordinates in tandem with Shen that we were able to extract from the Codex Wiki was able to interrogate."
"And the greenhouse? Heard you were experimenting with grafting."
"Ah, yes." Tygan turned his head to one of the corners of the Lab. The far area of the room had been converted into a greenhouse not too long after Eliza had been rescued on recommendation of one of their soldiers—Sherry, if Eliza remembered correctly. It helped provide some food they didn't need to acquire from havens or the Black Market, and put some variety in the soldiers' diets. "Being more inclined to fauna rather than flora in my studies, I am truly amazed at how accepting trees are to other branches of different species. I've managed to graft a few fruit-bearing branches onto the base tree we've had. I cannot say for myself if the fruits are of high quality, but as always, something is better than nothing."
"Of course!" Eliza grinned. "Honestly, you managing what you have amazes me. Always glad to have you with us, Tygan."
One of Tygan's rare smiles came around, and Eliza cherished it. He was quick to be professional again, as was his wont. "I appreciate the sentiment, Commander. I am always looking for small improvements and innovations to make—after all, there is always room to make up for past... deficiencies."
Right. Eliza's smile faded and she crossed her arms. She really wasn't down in the Lab as often as she'd like—and as much as she'd hate to admit it, half of it was those "deficiencies" Tygan was on about. At the end of the day, and in her eyes, however? "What happened then wasn't your fault," she began, looking at him seriously. "If you didn't get that chip out of me, I would've given away the location of the Avenger in all likelihood. There was no time to do the proper surgery—and how were you supposed to know I had a primal aversion to lying unconscious on my back?"
The light caught Tygan's glasses as he turned his head slightly to the side, making his expression unreadable. He moved his hands behind his back. "—but I could have made some logical deductions. Such as afterwards, regarding your reaction, having the tact to not invite you to look at the chip I had extracted from you when I had completed study on it."
Ouch. Yeah, she... she would've appreciated it if he did. It wasn't really something she held against him and it wasn't maliciously meant, so she didn't blame him. What hurt was that he had a minor point, there, and Eliza wanted to distract from that. "... so it happened. You've learned and we can move on. Tygan, take it from the woman herself; I don't blame you. Nor do I hate you or think anything that's happened is your fault. You're a valued member of this team and I want you to know that."
Tygan was quiet for a while, the hum of the ship's engine behind him filling the silence. Between her staff, the Chosen, the Factions, and the havens... there was no wonder Eliza never felt she could take time to herself, or lean on anyone else. There was always someone who needed help, someone who needed a strong rock. Not to mention the Elders breathing down her neck at all times. She didn't begrudge any of the people she cared for needing help—it was part of being human. Or, in the Chosen's cases... human enough. Her, however? You're not exactly human. Thus was her thinking. God knows that Siren file held the truth on how much of her was left...
"If you insist, Commander." Tygan's dismissal cut her out of her thoughts. "I simply cannot help but feel as if I am coming up short of what I wish to be."
"Can't be perfect," she shot back softly. "Perfect... just doesn't exist. The fact of the matter is that you're trying. And being largely successful at it, too. It's not like I wasn't going to have a quirk or two coming out of the Suit, anyway. You're the one responsible for saving me when Bradford and Shen wouldn't have been able to get the chip out. We make mistakes, grow, and move on. It's not a secret I've made a few even during the course of this war. I'm not exactly infallible. Bottom line?" Eliza took in a deep breath, then put on a gentle smile. "What I said holds up. I'm truly glad to have you on the Avenger."
There was another pause of silence out of Tygan—but at the end of it, Eliza was rewarded with another smile. "I can heartily return the sentiment, Commander. It's... truly hard to maintain a self-defeating attitude in the face of your reasoning."
"That's half my job. The reasoning gets a lot easier nowadays now that I'm not concerned with putting on a face for the military."
Tygan shook his head. "Bradford warned us all to watch ourselves when you were first coming to your senses. Judging by his reactions afterwards, I am sure you surprised him a fair bit."
The memory got Eliza to chuckle, even if the past she was putting behind her made her a little bit more sullen. "Twenty years makes you consider a lot, Tygan. Old me... wasn't someone I wanted to keep around or introduce to anyone else." A little bit of her levity faded. "The military ruined me and the kind girl I'd been going into it. First Contact was a mess. I'm... kinda glad, in ways, that no one remembers who that woman was. Outside of Bradford, of course, but the man has a heart of gold and isn't holding it against me."
As he turned his head, the light stopped shining in Tygan's glasses, and Eliza could see the inquisitive interest in them. "—apologies if my asking is rude, but what actions make you regret your acting at First Contact?"
Hm. This topic. Eliza was, as she said, glad that only Bradford was a remnant of what she'd done during that time—and he seemed all for her new self. Raymond Shen was dead, and Vahlen... hard to say, but Eliza hoped she was dead. If, out of her two other staff members, Moira was the one to survive, Eliza would have words with whoever the hell was governing the ways of the universe. Regardless, talking about what happened was somewhat dangerous in her eyes; a reminder of the self she had been. Eliza didn't think she'd ever fall back to her old ways, but Old Eliza haunted her.
But, Tygan was asking a question, and Eliza didn't want to brush him off. She took in a breath, nodding as she thought of what she could bring up. "What's there to say, I wonder...? Old Eliza favored efficiency and effectiveness over petty things like morality. It got results, yes, but—forgive me for being dramatic—it was like selling my soul to the devil." As she thought more over it, she looked to the side to avoid pinning Tygan with the sour expression she was gaining. "Of course people lapped it up—we were at war, I should be pulling no punches, was the sentiment. But there are some things not worth the price of victory. Some lines that shouldn't be crossed. Luckily I had Bradford trying to scrabble for my choke chain and Raymond Shen adding in a supporting hand or two, and just a little bit of my former morality left preventing me from doing something stupid like glassing countries. I was cruel, but not idiotic.
"I'm not going to divulge what I was doing, but let's say that Old Me let Vahlen run amok. I'm sure Bradford's related a tale or two of her before, so I'll spare you the details, but she ran her own interrogations for a reason. For six months our underground bunker was like working in the pits of hell. And eventually... the devil came to get his due." Eliza sighed out a tense breath. "Around that sixth month I was realizing what I was doing. If the aliens hadn't found us... I had been getting close to ending the war myself. Can't win without the 'greatest tactical mind humanity has to offer,' after all."
She let the implication hang there, eyes skirting back to Tygan. He seemed deep in thought, absorbing everything she'd said. It was in that moment that Eliza feared she'd said too much, divulged some damning detail that would have Tygan questioning her forever. No such thing was apparent as he nodded slowly, beginning to speak. "I can see why Bradford was afraid for the rest of us, then, that first week. And it is as you say—the Elders gave us an... unfortunate fresh start. If anyone has the right to judge you now for what you did then, I believe it would only be Bradford, and he seems to not much care for it. I, personally, have been witness to feats that could only be accomplished by the most open mind. There is a reason we have the Chosen openly cooperating with us and turned against the Elders, Commander, and I am looking at the person responsible. There is much to be said for empathy and redemption. I suppose the first sign of all this would be you giving me my second chance as you had, even after everything I had done, both to you and to the populace."
Tygan's response took some weight off of her shoulders, and Eliza relaxed. "I'm glad that's your thinking on it, Tygan. I never want to be that woman again, and I don't intend to turn into her anytime soon. Empathy, understanding, and a slightly less omnicidal hand seems to be doing wonders for this war, so I'll keep doing what I'm doing. I trust I can keep my confidence in you strong?"
"Of course, Commander. I have no reason, nor want to emulate my predecessor."
"Glad to hear it. And if you ever get the hankering to do so—not that I'm accusing you, of course—talk to me and we'll straighten things out. Get out of this Lab occasionally, yeah?"
"And stop working myself down to my last waking will?" When it got down to it, Tygan could be as dryly sarcastic as Mordenna or Lily. "I cannot comprehend what you're implying, Commander." Clearing his throat, he then straightened his glasses. "In all seriousness, I'll take your suggestion. Perhaps you and I could talk more often if we met someplace outside of the Lab."
"Like the Mess Hall, for instance? I know you drink Bradford's coffee mix, too—we all do—so we could chat as the pot boils."
"I see no reason not to." He nodded. "I will keep it in mind. Do you have anything else for me, Commander?"
"Other than to keep me updated on those coordinates? Not at the moment, but I'll let you know if I think of something else." She then looked at him pointedly. "Do you have anything you need out of me?"
He held up a hand. "Not at all. I will send a message to your datapad if I come across anything notable."
"Alright, then. I'll get out of your hair." Tygan raised an eyebrow at her for that, and she snickered in response. "Oh, you know what I mean! I'll leave you to it, and all."
"Good luck, Commander," he said after her as she retrieved her mug, and the Commander left to be about the rest of her day.
It was a rather quiet gathering of soldiers in the Commons.
Now that the Warlock largely had his own place to hang out, the more human soldiers had gradually been settling back into their favorite hangout place. The current crowd was Rosa, SYN, Herod, Clint, Leo, Sherry, and finally March. They were all sitting at their usual places at the table, quietly sipping drinks together and simply being.
March found herself mulling over recent events. It was undoubtedly why the atmosphere was so silent; what Banel had done and said was hanging over them all. March had her own objections to the Chosen, ones she had held onto as being reasonable. She wasn't like Vlad, she supposed—she wasn't xenophobic. It was just... the Chosen reminded her of something that was difficult to get to grips with and move on from. All of her alien allies did.
She looked up at her company—Sherry beside her, Rosa sitting in SYN's arms, Herod without his misbegotten friend, and the two finally-recovered psions. It was something she needed to get off of her chest, but... she was unsure about her company. Was this what Vlad felt before he opened his mouth? March just hoped that they would understand what she was truly going for. She took a fortifying drink of her beer before starting. "—hey. Mind if I talk of something? I know we're all enjoying the silence but there's something I just want to discuss."
Her friends looked up, and it was Rosa who nodded. "Sure enough, March. What's getting you?"
She tapped her chin, thinking of how to open this up. "... I'm. I'm worried about talking about this without some clarifying statements, so let's get this out of the way; I don't agree with Vlad whatsoever. Nobody else here does, right?"
People shook their heads. Sherry herself leaned on the table. "I don't think anyone wants to, love. If he even had any good points in what he was saying, they got smothered beneath a layer of his toxic personality."
"True enough," Leo replied. "That being the case, it makes me wonder what you're about to bring up."
"Yeah, I know." March sighed, muttering something in French that made Sherry lay a comforting hand on her arm. With that support, she continued. "We all had lives before the war—some of us more than others. Sherry and I, we had our own home away from everyone else. Even so we kept up with our culture and enjoyed what we had. And Sherry..." She turned to her wife, yet couldn't look at her. "You especially know I owe my life to Samhien almost as much as I do to you. I count him as one of my friends. And yet... when I look at him... I can't help but think of what we've lost. What ADVENT took from all of us. I see any of our alien allies and I think of what we could've had if the aliens never invaded." She looked back to the group. "I don't want these thoughts. I respect our allies and god knows Sammy doesn't deserve having a grudge held against him. But... it still hurts. A lot."
Quiet settled over the group—but it wasn't a chilling silence. All of her friends looked like they were contemplative rather than disgusted. Sherry herself leaned on her, and March threw an arm around her wife. Interestingly, it was Clint who spoke up first. "I feel you completely, March. We... we all know that the Hunter took Angela from us. Right in front of me. Whenever I see him, whenever I think that Eliza took him in, I just..." He balled his fists on the table. "I get angry. I think 'how dare he be allowed to walk here after everything he's done.' But the worst part is..." Clint clutched his head. "I've... I've got some of his memories now, and not all of them were from before the Elders took him. It's easy for me to imagine him as a faceless monster right up until I even think of what the Elders were doing to him. What he was doing to himself. Even then... the anger doesn't go away. It's more frustration, I think. I want someone to blame and normally, he'd be perfect, but now...?"
With his point made, Clint got sympathetic nods. Herod himself stared at his hands. "... I've been around Vlad a lot. Probably not the best idea I've had, but I wanted to at least not completely ostracize him. I think, like Sherry said, he had a hint of a point with what he was spewing. Which, ironically, makes it hard for the rest of us to talk about things like this without being associated with him. So, yeah, March. I understand. Used to have a family myself—still do, I guess. Used to have someone to call my own. Don't even know where he is, now. Knowing him, he's found some way to survive, but..." He rested a hand over his mouth. "It hurts. It really does. I want to be happy that people like the Chosen are turning themselves around. I want to be happy that we're finding allies in the Elders' forces. But we've lost a lot to people like them. I think... I think it's natural to be angry."
"If I may?" All eyes turned to SYN. "What Herod said is a completely natural human reaction to have when faced with allies that were previously your enemies. Having that anger only strikes me as what most would be faced with in these sorts of circumstances. I believe what is the most important step is to think critically—our allies do not want to be associated with the crimes of the Elders anymore, and some of them even actively work to fix what has been broken. I, myself, know that Codex Wiki is amalgamating all information and cultural records that she can acquire. Or, will resume doing so, if Hunter Mordenna is able to bring her back online. Having been injured by the Hunter, killed by the Assassin, and then fixed by the aforementioned party? Anger is natural. It is what you do afterwards with that anger is what defines you."
Poignant message dropped on their heads, the group silently considered it. Except Rosa, of course. "SYN, I swear to god you're a fountain of cheesy messages. I love you but christ." She then gestured to the rest of the group. "As afterschool special as SYN got on us, he's got a point. I absolutely hated the Chosen, especially the Hunter and the Assassin for roughing up SYN. But SYN's taken a fair few lumps in his day, and hell, Mordenna brought him back from the dead. I think Banel said it best, and maybe it was because he had the background of Vlad coughing his lungs out. They're trying. Ain't we all?" She rested her head on her hand. "—not like we haven't probably killed people close to them, either. The Hunter and the Assassin had those little Priest ladies in their Stronghold. What's to say they didn't bond with them? The rest of their soldiers? What's to say they have every reason to hold a grudge against us and yet ain't?"
That was something that March, honestly, hadn't thought of before. But it was natural, wasn't it? With how many followers Jax came in with—and how empty his Stronghold had been, from Sherry's recounting—it was pretty likely they'd snuffed people that Mordenna and Fal-Mai were close to, as well. Leo let out a breath. "—if the Chosen are doing a better job of managing their grudges than us, I feel as if I've fallen short of some standard. Granted, none of us save Vlad have tried to shaft our alien allies before, but it still says something, does it not?"
"Pretty much," Herod replied. "I think, at the end of the day, we're all mourning over something. Humans, aliens, Chosen... A lot of shit's going on. At the end of the day, most of us are trying to get our lives back. I heard Mordenna say this and I think we can all agree; the Elders are bastards."
"Elders are bastards," Rosa concurred, and the rest of the group said it afterwards. Many took a sip of their drink in solidarity.
"At least that's one group we'll never have to think over the ethics of," March concluded. "So, general consensus, I'm not xenophobic for being a little sore?"
"Not at all." Sherry shook her head. "I think dealing with it healthily is the most important part, and the fact that you still want to look at our more alien allies like friends is a good sign."
To that, March nodded and took another drink. Maybe things weren't so different at the end of the day.