Was this really the life that Jax was meant to lead?

Stuck in a cell, banished from what he thought was his true home... and yet, getting daily visits from his followers. Extended an offer of service from who was supposed to be his enemy... and even more strangely, the fact that he was considering it so heavily. Twenty years, he had been in service of the Elders, as arguably Their strongest champion, the very face of Their power. Was he not supposed to vehemently reject the offer Eliza presented him outright?

Yet. Yet he had told her "wait and see," in so many words. He had told her that he would consider her offer. Some part of Jax recoiled at everything he had done ever since Eliza had approached him in his cell. This was not him, surely. He was the Chosen Warlock. Their eldest child. Something had happened to him between now and XCOM arriving at his former Stronghold to make him act like this.

Yet. He was currently tracing the padding on the palms of his gauntlets. Jeanne had come in not so long ago, had marvelled at how Jax had been cleared to be uncuffed. Many more had come before her, offered their support to him, their hand by his side. He didn't think he was missing a single follower in his visits. Maria had even come in multiple times to check in on him. Technically... they were all in the employ of XCOM now. Even if they still supported him, they moved about the ship as one of the crew. Shouldn't that preclude him joining?

Even so, his stubborn pride was nipping at his heels every time he tried to stop at a conclusion, forcing him to dance around it and provide more and more reasoning to do it. He was "giving up too easily." He was "not believing in Them sufficiently." But... had He not believed in him—?

Weakness. He did not believe in weakness. The minute you decided to disobey was the minute you forfeit His love for you.

Jax's arms sought around himself, and he heaved a longing sigh. Every time he tried to broach anything about that, some part of him was quick to supply reasons and explanations. It was maddening. He was trying to come to peace with himself, but he wouldn't allow it! Jax did not want to make the decision to defect lightly, but it was hard to think seriously on it when his support of the Elders cried foul of it. It hurt, to think of it—to remember why he was even here. Eventually, when left alone long enough, he'd give up and resolve to come back to it later.

He'd done it too many times, now. Too many times he had gauged his wounds from Him and wondered how many were his fault. How many of them were His fault. All of them are you fault, have you gone mad? Dare you question Him? Yes! Yes he dared. After all... "A good parent would not leave their child fearing for their life at punishment, would they?" Had Fal-Mai not said those very words to him? You are simply unequipped to handle Their love. They mean the best for you. "Is 'love' supposed to hurt?" Jax knew there was a difference in what Maria said was her love for him, and what the Elders said Their love was. He knew this. So why was it so hard to grasp?

There is some part of you that is still rational, that knows that you are merely being petulant at the Elders, and They have acted accordingly. You are simply masochistic in your thinking. He shuddered. No. He was just... asking questions. You know where that had landed you before. You want to ask so many questions, but the minute your Father asks just one of you, you can't answer Him, can you?

Curling in on himself, Jax hugged his knees and desperately tried to clear his thoughts. He was in the Gathering Hall all over again. He was asking too many questions. He shouldn't think. He shouldn't be so weak—

The rush of the door opening was something new, and Jax found himself flinching at it. It was most likely Eliza... but he couldn't even bear to look up. Despite the outside noise, the memory hadn't stopped. He could swear he could feel the very air around him heating up, and his whole back tensed in agony, waiting for what was surely coming. Weakness. Weakness. These emotions of yours are mere weakness. As much as you chide your sister, you are just as deficient as she is. It's no wonder He cast you out. You're lucky He kept you as long as He did.

Jax. He'd done all he could. He thought he had just been asking genuine questions. Jax. Cronus was angry now. He'd never heard Him use just his first name before. Jax had crossed a line. Was there nothing he could do right? Jax. He was sorry. He was sorry! He—

"Jax!"

Though not entirely coming to his senses, the presence of warmth on his arms got him to look up, fervently-muttered apologies dying on his lips. Steadily, he could make out the form of the Commander, leaned in close to him. She looked so concerned, and... pained. It was then that Jax could feel his psionics slipping out from under him as they had, a direct reaction to the terror he had been experiencing. The storm was likely buffeting her.

Jax took in a gasping breath, his gauntlets flying to his face. He could feel them hum and fill with energy as he desperately tried to stem the tide of power that was crashing out of him. They were fulfilling their duty, restraining his power. Even so, he knew a force like his to be unbearable. "C-Commander, don't—"

He could feel Eliza squeezing his arms, leaning a bit closer. "Jax. Where do you think you're at, right now?"

He... he didn't know. He shook his head feverishly. The hall, the cell, his Stronghold, he just couldn't comprehend. Jax's gauntlets trembled with his fears and power.

"Jax, I'm going to move your gauntlets from your eyes. I want you to look around and tell me what you see, ok?" With that, there was pressure on his hands, trying to move them away from his face. He resisted, initially... but he realized what Eliza was trying to do. In the aftershocks he had faced in his punishment, Maria often attempted to calm him by reassuring him of his surroundings. Realizing that, he let Eliza take his hands down.

Gingerly, he opened his eyes... and felt a fresh batch of tears fall from them, quickly hiding them again. Crying in front of the Commander. You are truly a disgrace to the Elder's vision. As if in response to his thoughts—or to the breath he choked in—he heard Eliza gently shush him, hands over his wrists. "It's ok. It's ok to cry. You're hurt. It's natural. Wipe your tears, and we can try again."

Hands shaking, he palmed at the wetness on his face, casting his gaze upwards and trying to look anywhere but at the Commander. What greeted his eyes was white. No gray, no purple, no spectral flames. It was his cell. There were no Elders here. Just him and the Commander.

The Commander. Though he looked over to her, his eyes went down, focusing on the XCOM emblem on her uniform. Here he was, breaking down in front of her, having to be coddled by her. If he had any image before, it was ruined now. The storm was still there... but granted, it was subsiding with the knowledge that he was not there, anymore. He was on the Avenger, out of Their reach.

Something caught his eye—though the cracks and seams of his gauntlets were mostly pinkish-purple from his own powers, there was a mote or two of light blue coursing amongst them. His gauntlets were equal siphons and storage as much as they were restraints. Was he...?

Finally, he tore his gaze up to Eliza. She was less pained now, and while she was still concerned, it was more soft. "Can you tell me where we are, Jax?"

This is absurd. Are you really going to have her mollycoddle you like this? "... I—we're i-in my cell. Not... not there." The answer was yes, apparently.

Nodding, Eliza kept her hands on his gauntlets. "Yes. We're on the Avenger, in your cell. This is where you've been for the past few days. Nowhere else. I know what it's like, to get confused." Her face softened further. "You don't have to be sorry. It happens. You're going to be ok."

He kept repeating that all to himself, in his mind. He had to reaffirm that he was here, in this moment. Even if he detested his very being for falling apart in front of her like this. But... something stuck out at him. Surely Eliza, even with her minimal psionics, could feel the storm once he had entered. Would it not have been wiser to leave and fetch Maria, and forsake whatever she had originally entered for? She was only putting herself in harm's way by doing this. What was she trying to accomplish? Was... was she actually trying to comfort him?

This is the Commander of XCOM! A mere target for you to capture! Yet here you are, practically fraternizing with the enemy! What do you have to say for you and your relentless thirst for punishment?!

His hands balled into fists, and he tucked his head down, hiding his face. "I—" He hiccupped, gritting his teeth. "I'm sorry... this... this is u-undignified of me, I shouldn't—" Then he was interrupted by a barely-restrained sob, and his hands sought into his hair. Almost anything would be preferable to this, this slow torture that he was enduring.

"Jax." He sucked in a breath, but nodded shallowly. "Do you want a hug?" Was she seriously stopping to offer one? Jax... would not mock the action. He knew how calming a gesture it was, especially for one such as him—but that shred of pride that was still left was practically choking him, forbidding him to accept it. How much more would he debase himself? Even as he asked that, he could feel himself shaking, and a young part of him was crying out. Are you going to make her go away? Are you going to make us be alone? No. He didn't want to be alone. He did not want to be this childish either, but out of all of his problems right now, there was exactly one he could help.

Opening his eyes and lifting his head just long enough to confirm where the Commander was, Jax reached out and pulled her in tightly, squeezing her. He buried his face into her shoulder, trembling with the force of holding back his crying. You're pathetic. That he may be... but this felt better. Eliza asked. Though she was supposed to be his enemy, he found comfort in the gesture she offered.

"It's going to be ok," she assured, voice slightly strained. Jax hadn't the mind to think as to why. "Deep breaths. You're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"Will—" Jax found himself choking out, hating himself for every word. He had to know. "You... y-you think I'm weak—?"

"No. Not at all." Jax could feel Eliza squeeze him back. "You're strong to have managed this long. Everybody has their limits. It's ok to need to vent, to break down somewhere safe."

Some tension went out of Jax's shoulders, and he quieted, listening for Eliza's breathing. Short, slightly ragged. It was then that Jax realized just how tightly he had been holding her and he released a majority of his grip. Eliza sucked in a breath, but calmly let it out, going to deep breathing. He followed in her lead, even as some of his breaths in shuddered and his breaths out were more quiet sobs than anything else. "—I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to," he muttered in a small voice.

"That's ok. I'm fine," she assured. "You're under a lot of stress. I don't blame you. Just keep breathing with me—I'll guide you out."

Jax did, following along with her, breathing deeply. He'd cried a moist patch into her shoulder, but couldn't be bothered to lift his head. It'd be even worse to show his face in his current state. Though his self-loathing, born from his pride, still dug in at the back of his mind... he was calming down. The storm of his psionics was breaking, and he found his sorrow abating. Eliza was, rather successfully, leading him out of his episode.

Eventually, his breathing calmed completely, and he no longer felt his eyes filling up with tears. Eliza must've understood, as she spoke softly. "How are you feeling, Jax?"

It was a while before he responded, speaking lowly and in a measured voice. "Better. I..." He took in a deep breath. "I would not have thought you one to do such a thing, for... someone such as I."

"It's only right," she replied. "I wouldn't leave you there to suffer through that. Like I said, I know what it's like to suffer alone, when the past creeps up on you. I don't want you to have to go through that when I have the choice to help you through it."

He let out the breath he had taken in calmly, taking a moment to reflect on his situation. He, almost amusingly, had literally taken her up on her offer of "a shoulder to cry on." Jax forced himself to ignore the voice at the back of his mind that continued to decry his failures, pulling back just a bit to wipe at his eyes. "... thank you, Eliza."

At this distance, in this quiet, Jax could swear he felt the little psionics she had radiate with warmth. "I'm happy to help, Jax. Need a bit more time?"

Right. She had probably entered to ask something of him and found him in the state he was in. By his reckoning, it hadn't been five days yet, and she'd already visited a while ago to uncuff him. Taking another deep breath, he parted from her, eyes cast downwards. "I... believe I should be fine for now. Do you have something to ask of me?"

Respectfully, Eliza backed off in turn, but remained close, a hand on his arm. "Only if you feel you're up for it. Your siblings wanted to see you."

A few things took Jax aback upon hearing that. Firstly, and most importantly, they actually wanted to see him? Jax would've expected their wanted dealings with him to be done after the mission to capture them. He knew that if he joined with XCOM, he would have to see them day after day... but for them to approach him of their own volition? Unheard of. Secondly... if his feelings had gotten away from him that badly, there was no doubt that they had also caught ghosts of his episode. With that on his mind, he was torn between denying them outright and letting them in for the sheer curiosity of what they wanted to say.

After a few moments of consideration, Jax moved to stand, sorting himself out the best he could, even running his gauntlets through his hair and tying it up into a simple braid just so he didn't look as bedraggled as he felt. "Allow them in. I also wish to speak with them."

He cast a glance back at Eliza just in time to watch a pleasantly surprised expression cross her face. "Well, alright. Are you sure you're good to handle it? I can stay here, if you want."

"I am sure, Commander." He drew himself to a full, confident height. "Though, I would appreciate it if you remained. I do not count on my siblings attempting to do anything to me in your presence." Jax wondered what exactly their thoughts would be when they entered and saw him largely no worse for wear.

Nodding, Eliza walked over to the datapad, pressing a button. From his position, he could see beyond his cell, allowing him to catch Mordenna pacing in the room beyond. The Hunter stopped upon hearing the door open and locked eyes with his brother. After a moment, Jax nodded, gesturing with a clawed gauntlet to step inside. Mordenna came in short order, with Fal-Mai turning in just behind him. The two of them looked... rightfully, a little reserved, but Mordenna was hiding it well.

Jax was the first to break the ice. "Sister. Brother."

"Jax." "Brother." Mordenna and Fal-Mai returned, respectively, in unintended unison.

When nobody moved forwards, Jax pressed on. "—while I am aware that the two of you have arrived here, likely seeking to ask a few questions of me... considering neither of you have asked them yet, I will ask mine first. Mordenna?" His brother nodded in response. "Was it you who deduced what... had been placed upon me?" He didn't want to return to this subject, but he steeled himself. His curiosity had been eating away at him.

"Well, yeah," Mordenna began. "I'll cut my thoughts short here, but these eyes of mine are very good at spotting things they've seen before. That connector on the front of your collar? Same make as the 'obedience collars' they use to move high-profile prisoners. The rest of it had been changed, but that I recognized."

He closed his eyes for a second, willingly ignoring the implications. He opened them again. "And you willingly guided our sister into cutting it off?"

Mordenna shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes flitting about. Jax knew that tell—Mordenna was processing a bit of info at once, thinking over what he wanted to do. After a while, he seemed to uncertainly hit upon it. "Well. Whole purpose of the mission was to capture you, not to watch you—" He winced and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. Looked like he cut himself off. "—yeah. Wouldn't be good if you were dead. Not exactly the mission parameters."

It... seemed as if there was more that Mordenna wanted to say on the subject, but he kept his mouth shut. Though Jax found himself off-put by Mordenna's cold reasoning... there was enough to suggest that Mordenna was toeing around his words because he knew he had an audience. Jax let it drop, and turned to Fal-Mai. "... I suppose I must also ask you what you must think of me regarding the incident before that one."

Though Fal-Mai had looked a tad bit reserved before, she straightened now. "Brother. What the Elders did to you would make anyone cower. I do not think you lesser; it was an expected reaction to what you have endured."

Expected. Much like Eliza assuring him that she didn't blame him for how he acted under duress. A part of him was still asking why about it all. Jax was still wrestling with if it was a good or a bad thing, but he took it in stride for now, inclining his head towards Fal-Mai in lieu of a response.

Fal-Mai, however, continued. "I had seen you armor out in the field... how fares your back, brother? Not to mention the... fit you had when we came for you."

Taking in a steady breath, Jax's eyes surveyed the room. Eliza continued to wear a look of heavy concern. Mordenna looked almost resigned as his gaze was still off to the side. Fal-Mai herself was calm, but not with a cold air about her. She... merely did seem to be questioning it genuinely, as much as Jax didn't want to answer.

Well, Jax figured he had asked imploring questions of either of them. He was now obligated to answer what they had for him. "... I will admit. My Mystics say they had seen a large patch of burnt skin upon my back. If they are correct..." He lidded his eyes. "It has not faded yet. Maria doesn't think it ever will."

The room went quiet at that. Fal-Mai was suddenly withdrawn, arms around herself, as if feeling the back of her own armor, searching for such damage on herself. Eliza bit her fist, seeming to stem off a tide of anger. Mordenna's own anger, however? It was much less constrained. "—figures. It really fuckin' does. Don't get me wrong, I'm pissed at the Elders here. It figures that I'm not the only one that has to deal with getting branded."

Fal-Mai closed her eyes at that, looking for all the world like she wanted to disappear. If the Elders had used even close to as much power as They did on him? She was likely marked, too. Upon Mordenna's words, the heavy silence continued, with Jax feeling his posture start to fall.

"This is bullshit."

All eyes went to Mordenna. Sensing the need to elaborate, he went on. "We all manage to hightail it to a separate post code to get away from the Elders and we're still dealing with the shit they did to us. Ain't right."

Fal-Mai nodded at that, and Jax? Jax closed his eyes. He could not join in Mordenna's outright vilification of the Elders. His mind still sought for reasons, after all. As he opened them again, he watched Mordenna's own eyes jump about, settling on Eliza for a few seconds before he clapped his hands together. "Tell you all what. On this ship, we don't have the Elders breathing down our necks anymore. Just Eliza, and I'm fine with that because she's actually got a mouth." Eliza chuckled in response, and this time around, Jax found the sound rather melodious. Perhaps another change he hadn't noticed before? Hard to say.

Gesturing as he was known to do, Mordenna continued speaking. "So! I propose a plan. Bro, sis... I've got a wild idea. How about we actually try being nice to each other for a change? Failing that, at least not trying to kill each other."

This day couldn't possibly exist. Jax half-wanted to plead for someone to draw back the curtain and reveal the whole thing was a farce. Mordenna? Suggesting they bury the hatchet? Fal-Mai, at least, looked optimistic, but guarded. "... I will admit, I did not expect that to be a proposition from you," she began. "I have always wanted cooperation between the three of us, though that had been in the past when I had wished for us to achieve our goal as quickly as possible. But it is a desire I could carry over into this new life. I, for one, agree with this."

Jax... wished he could be as cautiously optimistic as his sister. He levelled a careful gaze at Mordenna. "Hear me out, brother; I would very much like for this proposition to be genuine. But I must ask, how am I to believe that this is not a tactic to make us drop our guard around you for nefarious reasons?"

"Because if I do something to you guys," Mordenna responded, "I risk getting thrown out of here. And I really, really like it here, as it turns out. It doesn't suck and that's pretty groovy. So, there's that."

Mordenna? Thinking on the consequences of his actions? Truthfully, Jax knew that he was equipped to comprehend and calculate things to a not insignificant degree... but from what he knew of his brother, it was almost out of left field. As he mused on it, he did remember something. There had been, a while back, one of the telltale reprises of Mordenna going through some of his insecurities. The fact that the Hunter still stood before him today was perhaps a testament to what Eliza was capable of.

A good answer was a good answer. The Warlock nodded. "Fine. I see the merit in that. Consider myself, as well, invested in this plan. It will certainly make proceedings easier for the future."

"Now ain't that just grand!" Mordenna broke into a confident grin. "The Chosen, all standing in a circle and agreeing to not be quite as shit towards each other. Did you think you were gonna see this day or what, Eliza?"

Shaking her head, Eliza joined him in smiling. "Can't say I ever did. I'm not complaining, though—so long as all of you are cooperating with me rather than against me."

"You're right, really. I don't think this world would have been ready for the might of all three of us working together under ADVENT. Why, I ran the numbers..."

On Mordenna went, easily slipping into his usual banter. To Jax, it practically faded into the background noise, and allowed him to more easily ruminate on his thoughts. It was... interesting, to have all of his siblings in the same room without it being a public event. Just the hope of a less confrontational future. If the Elders could see this... They would probably disapprove.

The thought of it sombered Jax a little. Yes. The Elders had declared the whole competition to acquire the Commander to force them to fight against each other—though, it wasn't as if they had needed the excuse, back then. However, when he considered that they were all meant to be pitted against each other... why did They punish him for "arrogance?" He had merely taken pride in Their will.

Line of thought continuing, his eyes moved to the Commander. He had thought at length with himself about what could justify Cronus's actions. At this point, he considered himself too biased to come to any kind of real, unaffected conclusion. Sadly, he considered his followers too biased as well. Based on all of their reactions when the topic came up, they were still too filled with either conclusion or fury... and it wasn't as if they knew the Elders as he had.

So, what then? His siblings? He already knew Mordenna wasn't an option. All Mordenna housed for the Elders was sheer spite and hatred. Undoubtedly he'd simply devolve into a seething fury about it. Fal-Mai... was a slightly better option, but Jax felt as if some of Mordenna's despising of the Elders had imprinted on her. They were two of his three options in people who had experience with the Elders. His last, and with longer experience than he, was the Commander. Though she also spoke about the Elders with occasional upset, he took her as one to put it aside for reasonable discussion. It had happened on the field, once or twice before. Granted, her side was always opposing, but such was the nature of leading the resistance.

Mind made up, he turned to his siblings. "—While I would enjoy having you all here for further discussion... there is something I wish to talk over with the Commander immediately. Would you two grant me that?"

Mordenna had come to a pause in whatever he was on about before Jax spoke, thankfully, and he looked to his brother. He shrugged good-naturedly. "Hey, why not. Could even be my first act of goodwill by fucking off when I'm told!"

Fal-Mai looked as if she had more to say, but seemed to take Mordenna's words well, inclining her head. "As should I... but less profanity meant in my sentiment. I wish to speak more later, Jax, but I will find the time for that. For now, I will take my leave as you ask."

Nodding, Eliza went over and hit the panel on the wall, opening the door for them. "Thank you two again for wanting to do this. I'm glad with what all three of you are trying to do."

"Well, someone's gotta try and throw dirt on the hatchet," Mordenna said, sauntering out, "otherwise we're all just looking gormlessly at a poor axe someone's tossed in a hole. But, still, you are ever so welcome, Lizzie."

Eliza chuckled, and the two of them left as the door closed behind them. That left him and Eliza, alone. The Commander turned to him. "Alright, Jax. What's on your mind?"

Taking in a breath to get his thoughts together, Jax began. "I believe I recall you offering yourself as a listening ear, did I not?"

"I certainly did."

"... when I ask you this, Commander, I ask you to be as impartial as possible. Seeing as you have seen all of what has happened to me in my Stronghold..." He crossed his arms, looking to the side. He really couldn't look at Eliza as he asked this. "Do you think there was any rational reason that Cronus—that He did what He did?"

The room grew quiet. He spared a glance back, and saw the Commander thinking, a hand to her chin. He face twisted with disgust for a second, but it faded quickly. It seemed as if she were trying to go about it impartially, as he asked. Finally, she looked up at him. "... judging from the most impartial standpoint I can muster, Cronus must've picked out a trend. Each Chosen I have captured, I've turned against ADVENT. Granted, through them wanting to fight back, but it isn't my point. That's an asset being turned back against the Elders. Cronus... must've thought that it was better to risk completely losing an asset than having it turned against him." She let out a tension-filled breath. "And that is as impartial as I can make it. I want to make a thousand qualifying statements and explanations, but you asked for impartiality. That's my rational take."

Though each person he had asked beforehand had a slightly different answer, Eliza's seemed to hurt the most. An asset. Down to the most impartial level... Cronus saw him as a mere asset. Not a son. Jax deflated and slumped, losing his posture he'd maintained in front of his siblings. Well, he supposed he had gotten the answer he had asked for. When it was anyone merely calling Cronus "short-sighted," "cruel," or even "stupid," it was easy for him to brush off or disregard. Failing that, it felt as if it wasn't a complete reason. The Commander's answer was truthful enough to sting.

She must've spotted his pain, as her shoulders went down. "—Hey. Even if I was supposed to give the least biased answer I could, I'm sorry if I was cold. You shouldn't be looked at as an asset, Jax. You're much more than that."

He closed his eyes, mood dropping. "If a God declares me nothing more than an asset, then is that not merely what I am?"

"If a 'god' used me as a computer database, is that not merely what I am?"

The retort got Jax to look at Eliza again. The old part of him that would insist that the Elders had the best vision of her... kind of got shoved to the side when she had comforted him. A "computer database" would not rush to his aid when he was in distress, would it? Finding himself without an answer, he sighed. "That's different," he muttered, knowing that it was him conceding the point.

"How so," she asked softly. "I'm no more a victim than you are, Jax. You have the right to question and even change your role in life. Anybody who tries to take that away from you... you should consider why they would want to do that."

Jax really didn't know anymore. Every time he tried to throw up another reasoning, Eliza poked through it. Not with the sledgehammer that Mordenna tried to wield, Void bless him. Rather, something more measured. It was hard to argue against someone who had just as much time spent with the Elders as him—even more than him, too.

His eyes remained on her... and they picked out the wisps of psionics clinging to her form. Instead of answering her question, he moved on to that. "I do hate to change the subject, Commander... but your psionics interest me."

Eliza gave a tired smile. "Light blue, yeah. I didn't know, myself, until recently. The Templars I know say it should be monitored... and trained, possibly. I'm for it, but nobody's confident enough to aid me."

It had been ages since Jax had last tutored someone in using their psionics—that was when the Gatekeeper strain was still being used in Priests. But, back then... he quietly deflected the memory. He was more trained, now. More controlled. It wouldn't happen again, if he wanted to train the Commander. It was clearly her implication too, if Jax was reading her right. Relaxing a bit with the successful subject change, he huffed. "I suppose you're implying someone such as myself could handle it... if that someone were to make a definite decision regarding his allegiances."

"Implications are a form of art unto themselves," Eliza's smile grew more genuine, "but yeah. It's pretty much what I'm saying. Give it some thought—you've still got a day and a half on your deadline. I've been keeping track."

Jax was somewhat thankful for that—he wasn't so good about it. "Of course. I can guarantee you my decision come then. For now, that was all I had for you. Do I have any more visits for today?"

Eliza tapped her chin, eyes flickering about. Just like Mordenna... "If I remember correctly? Odette at 1300, Bastet at 1700, and then Maria again at 1900."

Jax gave a single chuckle. "She's wanting to get her visits in, Commander. I do not begrudge her."

"Oh, me neither. I'm happy she's visiting so often, frankly. Happy that she's willing to help out in the Infirmary, too! Leo's—" She halted in her tracks, regarding Jax. Then, she cleared her throat. "—I know you and Leo have a little spat, but Maria helped his psionics to heal."

That made Jax raise an eyebrow. Leo took the rivalry more seriously than he did, so he was more inquisitive than anything else. "He had not healed yet from my attack?"

"Not fully, no. He still had some psionic 'soreness,' to the best of our description. Guess that rifle of yours is a really effective piece of kit."

"Indeed. I rarely find use of it in that aspect."

Eliza held back a snicker. "Or at all?"

The Warlock stopped up for a moment, then huffed, mock-pouting. "It is not my fault that my brother fashioned a firearm for me without stopping to think if I had any weapons training whatsoever."

"Could always change that, y'know. We've got the Training Center here, and failing that, the shooting range."

"A day and a half, Commander, though it is noted."

Eliza grinned, but it fell into a softer look. "Alright. I should probably leave you to it, then. Bradford will be the one chaperoning Odette, but I'll be back for the other two later today, alright?"

Bobbing his head, Jax straightened again. "Understood. And..." His hands dropped to his sides. "... thank you, again, Eliza. It was good of you to stay with me."

Smiling and walking over, Eliza patted his side. "Hey. I'm always, always happy to help, ok Jax? No need to suffer in silence or alone. You can talk to me—or hail me on the pad—if you ever need that again."

Looking at her with warmth in his heart, Jax nodded again. "I will remember that, Commander. I won't keep you any more."

Eliza patted his side again, then departed, hitting the pad before she left the room, leaving Jax to ruminate on his thoughts and the residual feeling in his chest.