Amongst all that had happened, five soldiers and a SPARK were gathered around a table in the Commons.
Having finished up early on her stock check and with no one to see to, Sherry had initially sat down to read her book and take ginger drinks of her water. She'd been not unkindly interrupted by the arrival of Rosa and SYN—Rosa took quickly to chatting her up as SYN served as her makeshift chair. Soon after that, Banel trekked in, asking what the gathering was about. After a while of small talk, the chain gang of Herod and Vlad had arrived, and the group tentatively accepted them in to join in the fun.
The conversation had been going alright, with the typical shooting the breeze going on as Sherry resolved she'd never get any progress on her book at this rate, slotting in a bookmark and leaning in on the topic. Rosa and Banel were chiefly keeping the banter going, with the occasional stab from Herod livening things up. With her chaotic life of healing at XCOM, Sherry appreciated moments like this. If only her wife were here.
"—and most importantly," Rosa said as she tuned back in, "I'm fuckin' flabbergasted you trusted Arsozu to not filch your keys."
"Look," Banel said, looking Rosa in the eye. He had his helmet off, revealing his longer-than-average black hair and darkened skin. Paired with a chiseled jaw and pale blue eyes, there were many a rumor that Herod was a chip off of his block. "I was willing to trust him, and I suppose that bit me in the ass." He scoffed. "Not to mention the thumbtacks. How the hell did he get those?"
"He's a Reaper." Herod grinned. "You act like they can't get their hands on anything."
Banel huffed indignantly while Rosa laughed. Sherry smiled gently. Antics like the ones the Twins and Arsozu got up to really kept things light around the Avenger. It helped stave off the sense of cabin fever.
As Rosa's laughter died down, the conversation stilled for a second. Sherry was halfway through opening her mouth to remark on something else before Vlad spoke. "Speaking of trust..." Oh no. Was this going to be some tired topic on the Skirmishers? Sherry leveled a cautious look at Vlad as he continued. "—is nobody else gonna kick a fuss about those damn Chosen?"
The mood, summarily, hit a brick wall. Banel's mouth settled in a line and Herod looked half a second away from kicking Vlad's shin under the table. Rosa got contemplative, and Sherry herself? She had to speak up. "What fuss is there to kick, V? The Hunter's been good on missions, the Assassin's shown her worth, and the Warlock..." The sight of March, controlled and afraid, flashed in her mind, and she sighed. "He's got—"
"It ain't just about what they've done," he interrupted, making Sherry glare at him. "It's about what they're going to do. Can't be long now before one of them fucking snaps and takes out five of us before anyone can say 'I've got a bad feeling about this, Commander.' And I don't wanna hear any of you defend them!" There was a thump under the table and Vlad cursed, but he moved on. "You especially, Herod. That Assassin chick gave you a headache you had to walk off for six hours and captured one of our own!"
Rosa leaned forward, eyes hot. "Oh, so Sammy's 'one of our own' when it suits you, huh?!"
"And you!" Vlad pointed at Rosa. "Nevermind Sam. First the Hunter shot out SYN's leg, then that freak Assassin straight up kills him! Why the hell are you trying to defend her?"
"Shit. Happens." Rosa's glare hadn't died. "And before you forget, I've got Mords to thank for putting SYN back together. Apologized to me and him, too!"
"Oh, well, that just makes everything fuckin' better, doesn't it? He said sorry. Now I have to drop every grievance I've ever known about the bastard." He sneered. "How many times has he killed people right before your eyes? How many have we lost to him? Did all of us just fuckin' forget Angela? What about Isaac? Are we supposed to fuckin' forget that the Chosen slaughtered them?!"
"Vlad." Banel stood up, fixing him with an icy stare. "We haven't forgotten them. But lest you forget, the Commander's made it clear that it's her fight. We haven't seen anything happen yet."
"So you're just going to wait?" Vlad stood up to match him, spreading out his hands. "And what the hell do you mean 'nothing's happened?' I sure as hell wasn't the only one around to see the Commander sprinting like a bat out of hell to the roof. Fuck knows what happened there!" His eyes set to Sherry. "The week's not even up and you had to see to the Commander about bruised ribs. Right after she came out of the cell with that psychotic bastard. What's to say he didn't try to squeeze the life out of her, huh?"
Sherry firmly planted her hands on the table. Yes, Eliza had walked into the Infirmary asking Sherry and Sammy what they could do about a bruised set of ribs. The reason she'd given was "Jax gives out hardcore hugs." Sherry had believed her in the moment, but... it sounded like the exact kind of response the Commander would give to keep a lid on things. She steeled her resolve. Not her fight. "If the Warlock had wanted to kill the Commander, he would've killed her just then. What was stopping him? We've all taken it on virtue she goes into those 'interrogations' alone. I'm willing to believe what she said on the matter." She spread out a hand. "What are you trying to do? Make us all as paranoid as you are? Do you think the Commander lied to all of us when she said she could handle it?"
Vlad's steam petered out a bit, but his gaze remained locked with hers. "She's said we can ask questions, and I'm sure as hell not forgetting." He jabbed a finger at her. "All of you trust too much. Mark my words; by the end of the month, you'll see why I tried to warn you."
Jax had to admit, the prospect of teaching again was... daunting.
It was not as if he was unsure in his abilities as a psion; Jax never needed to be told about the vast power he harbored and his relative ease in using it. He was certain that it wasn't his powers that might cause a problem. Rather...
He sighed, taking a moment to check if he was going the right way or not. When he confirmed he was on the right track, he kept walking. Rather, it was his teaching ability. Jax hadn't taught in well over fifteen years, now. The last time he had done anything of the sort, it... hadn't ended well. Far be it from you to lecture Mordenna on "damaging his own," right, Jax-Rai? Settling his mouth in a line, Jax quietly dismissed the thought. He had far more control over his powers, and it'd been years since the incident. He'd like to think he could manage without too much trouble.
He came to what he believed was his destination. Eliza said she'd been in the Guerrilla Tactics School around this time and that she'd be free right after. He'd resolved to sit in on whatever she was doing; his Mystics were busy still establishing themselves, anyhow, and he'd wanted minimal distractions when training the Commander. He tapped the pad with a clawed gauntlet and stepped in.
The GTS looked more like a gym than any image the word "school" brought to Jax's mind. Sure, there was a whiteboard on one of the walls, currently marked up with some plan he couldn't guess the meaning of at a glance, but that was it. Weights, treadmills, there was even two different models of odd-looking Sectoids, presumably to be used as training dummies. Almost half of the room was dedicated to what looked like a fighting ring, which he could see getting some use with the soldiers he'd seen. In the middle of the room, using the pull-up bar...
Ah. Jax had a full view of the back of the Commander. Her traditional Commander's uniform had been swapped out for what amounted to a sports top that exposed her midriff and workout pants. Her hair was pulled into a simple bun, preventing it from fluttering about as she did pull ups at an impressive pace. Most notably, the different wardrobe highlighted just how chiseled she was—a woman of army descent, her, and Jax would be embarrassed to admit that he took a second to admire the physique on display.
Seemingly hearing the door open—or sensing Jax's psionics—Eliza halted in her workout and turned her head. When she caught sight of Jax, she grinned. "Jax! What, somebody going on sixty can't... stay in shape?" It was pretty clear she was a bit out of breath due to the pauses to breathe in her speech.
Somewhat at a loss for words, Jax's mouth hung for a moment before he collected himself, clearing his throat. "C-certainly not what I had been supposedly implying, Commander. I was... merely intrigued that a figurehead of a movement such as yourself would deign to continue to maintain herself, despite not being one of the troops on the ground."
Eliza gave a breathless chuckle. "Gotta... gotta keep myself going. Old Me would kick. My. Ass. If I didn't keep doing this. Gimmie just a moment. Wanna finish my set."
Jax motioned that it was fine to continue, and Eliza did just that. Now, Jax counted himself a man of relative wealth and taste. He was no scoundrel, no charlatan, no Mordenna as it were. But... he couldn't exactly tear his eyes away from Eliza as her muscles strained in the workout. That uniform of hers did a lot to hide her build, and he almost considered it a shame. Almost.
After a few more pull ups, Eliza eased into a down position and dropped from the bar, dusting off her hands and catching her breath. "Oof. Ethereals did something right—I'm still about... about as sprightly as I was twenty years ago." She took a moment longer to stabilize her breathing, and then straightened, turning to Jax. With her stomach exposed, he observed an interesting set of scars—one coursing down from her bellybutton, two to the side and middle of her abdomen, and one in the middle, just below her top. Curious... "—Let me get some water and I'll be right with you."
Nodding, Jax stepped to the side as Eliza walked over to a water cooler he hadn't spotted, filling up a cup and taking a swig. When she was done, she looked to Jax and motioned to him. "So. How you doing, Jax my man?"
"Faring well, doing what I am able to settle in." His room hadn't been cleared out yet, but Jax had eyes on what he wanted to do with it. "Having the company of my congregation certainly assists me in feeling more 'at home,' here."
"Good! Good to hear." Eliza took another sip, wiping at her forehead. "Your siblings been to see you at all?"
There was the incident yesterday with Mordenna... but Jax deliberated on bringing it up. It almost struck him as "snitching" to detail what happened... but it would be wise to tell the Commander what occurred. She was the one watching after him, after all. "—Just Mordenna, as of late, and our interaction yesterday... left something to be desired."
Eliza's cheerful expression turned more serious, and she stood up from her lean on the watercooler. "What happened?"
Jax extended a hand to gesture. "I had confronted him on what he had done in the past to one of his former Priests that came into my custody shortly afterwards. I had managed to get an apology out of him—a miracle in and of itself— but perhaps predictably, it had darkened his mood. Afterwards, I..." To detail something this personal, or not... Well, Jax trusted the Commander enough. "I had asked him why he did not go by his proper first name any longer, and I was told the story there. In exchange, he asked of me if I had known any details regarding his former life—I could not provide much, but my Matriarch was able to supply him his name."
The Commander took a moment to consider all that Jax had said, taking cautious sips of water. After a while of thinking, she responded. "—do you think you forced the apology in any way? I suppose what I should be doing is asking just what happened, back then, so I know how to go about it."
"I do not believe it was forced. If he did not wish to apologize, he could have left at any time—but, perhaps, with the knowledge that I would not wish to reconcile with him until he did. Why I would not do so is perhaps explained in what occurred so many years ago." Jax moved his hand to the side. "From what I have gathered from Odette—the former Priest of this story—she had entered his foundry to ask a pertinent question, since his login on the Network was returning his standard 'busy' messages and the question she had wanted to ask was of value. She began to ask..." His mouth settled into a thin line. "... and my brother shot at her. Afterwards, he spirited her away to my doorstep with nary a word." Nary a word but the feeling of a conclusion to one of his many episodes, back then. "Apparently, the gun he had used to fire at her was malfunctioning, and only robbed her of her eye."
Giving a short "hmm," Eliza raised a hand to her chin. "And you never got his side of the story?"
Sensing what Eliza was about to suggest, Jax's hand fell to his side. "Regardless of his reasons, he fired at a Priest under his care, Commander. I would not try to hear what he might say to justify such a lowly action."
"Alright. Did you consider hearing it out anyway might make him feel better?" When Jax had nothing to say to it, she continued. "You can still hear him out and then tell him 'that's fine and all, now apologize.' From what I've gathered of Mordenna, he really needs to air out his thoughts and his reasonings for some of the actions he takes. Something tells me he wasn't trying to justify himself—rather, he was trying to tell his side of the story. Considering you guys have been party to the Elders, who tend to twist things around... I think it was important to him to say what had happened."
Jax deflated a bit, crossing his arms and looking to the side. Come to think of it... he'd taken Mordenna dropping off Odette at his Stronghold as the obvious thing to do as someone who had just damaged his own "goods." But if Mordenna had truly been acting maliciously, there would be no Odette to talk to today, would there? It would have been easier to him to leave Odette bleeding on the floor of his own Stronghold if he truly wished her gone. To take her somewhere he knew she would be fixed and cared for... well, it took a lot of the wind out of Jax's sails. Voice quiet, he spoke up. "I... had not considered it. You must understand, Eliza, I am chiefly a shepherd to my flock. I had been concerned with Odette having justice done for her, first and foremost. But, I will admit, perhaps... perhaps I could have gone about it better."
Nodding gently, Eliza leaned back against the watercooler. "I think an apology of your own would patch things right up. Hell, what might make things even better would be to properly hear his side of the story. Mordenna doesn't do needlessly cruel things, just... cruel things to cure his boredom. If he was working on guns—and I've watched him at work—suffice to say, I don't think he was bored. Maybe he... wasn't in the best of moods." Her face shifted, and she seemed to think on something. "If he's asking you about his past..." Whatever line of thought she had, she took another drink and never expanded upon it.
Sighing, Jax could tell it was a conversation he had to field. He hadn't meant to hurt his brother's feelings... and for some reason, it now made him feel bad. What a twist of fate. "I will likely take that course, Commander. Consider your advice heard."
"Good to hear, Jax." Eliza downed the rest of her cup, placing it on the tank of water. "Now. If I remember correctly, there was some psionic training you wished to embroil me in?"
Former topic apparently dropped, Jax eased into the new one. "Of course, but at your discretion. If I am interrupting anything, I am able to wait until you are done."
"Eh. I need to give my muscles a bit of a break before I go at it again, anyway." Eliza stood up again, rolling her shoulders. "If you can stand teaching me right now, I'd be happy to go at it. I imagine someone of your expertise could work me over just fine."
Not particularly wanting to acknowledge Eliza's possibly multiple innuendos, Jax cleared his throat. "I... would be delighted to do so, Commander." He looked around for a good spot, and settled on the mat in the room, motioning to it. "Sit down with me. One of the first steps in training your powers is to grow used to them."
When Eliza came over, Jax knelt down on his knees, watching as Eliza copied the action. He adjusted so he was closer to her, nodding to himself. He felt awfully rusty at this... but, then again, Eliza probably didn't know training of this kind. Hopefully, and most likely, it would not show. "When calling upon your psionics, it is an obvious requirement to know what it is to do so. To try and harness your powers without knowing the exact delicacies of them is tantamount to asking for complications."
Eliza nodded, offering no commentary. Good. That would help him along, not having to respond to everything she said. Questions, he could work with. Running commentary, of which his brother was versed in? Less endurable. He extended his gauntlets. "I will assist you in calling upon them—you have been in my presence long enough to learn what my signature feels like. By drawing yours out, I will also be able to determine their exact composition and structure, thereby aiding you in the exact training course."
Bobbing her head again, the Commander closed her eyes. "Breathe deeply," he began, "and think of yourself as an open, passive vessel. Do not struggle, do not strain against my power." He certainly hoped the Commander trusted him. He could see something like this being potentially misconstrued as an attempt to invade her mind... but Jax only meant the best. He was also trying to fight off the ghosts of what had happened before. It's alright. You are much more versed in your powers.
In front of him, the Commander became the picture of relaxation. With a soft pulse, his powers came to life. Coursing up his arms and from his palms, they manifested as slow, languid claws, trudging through the air to Eliza's head. He was attempting to do this as softly as possible. Not only that, but he was aiming for precision... which was something he would admit he lacked. Still, it was a quiet moment, and Eliza was being cooperative.
The claws reached her skull and pressed their way inwards. He watched as Eliza tensed for a second at the foreign feeling—something mirrored in the glowing signature he could now find—but her resolve must've been greater than her discomfort, as she sighed and relaxed again. Unhindered, he urged his powers forward. At such a close distance like this... he could very well approach a Meld, circumstances providing. At that point, he would have to clear his thoughts of nervousness, lest Eliza would be privy to it.
"Remain calm," he breathed, voice low, "I have found your signature. In a short moment, I will attempt to draw it forth."
When he heard no complaint from Eliza, he continued with his task. The claw-like reach of his psionics gently grasped onto hers. In that moment, when they gained proper contact, Jax's mind's eye bloomed with color and feelings. He knew what reading a mind was like—even what reading a PsiOp or a Templar's mind felt like. This was far different. Eliza's psionics were soft, for lack of a better term. Even as dim as her signature was, it was clear there was some measure of power underneath. Nothing that looked greater than his, of course, but impressive nonetheless. At this point, his signature would be readable to Eliza as well. Perhaps she caught some of his quiet admiration, as her own pulsed, and he could feel a warm glow suffuse his chest. These were very, very interesting psionics.
But, he was here with a purpose. He could not idly sit here all say and merely inspect her dormant signature. He could do his fare share of looking once he brought it out of its shell. With a pause to gather and steel himself, he renewed his grip on her power and tugged.
The result was like destroying a dam.
Far more power than he had ever been expecting suddenly overwhelmed the probe-like psionics he had sent forth, effectively slamming him and his access to her out. Physically recoiling, Jax cradled his head for a second in the aftermath of the psionic backlash before he opened his eyes. Eliza was now trembling fiercely, hands clutching her head as her psionics flooded out of her. The power was enough to undo the loose bun she had and her hair was thrashing about. Through the gaps in her fingers, Jax could see blood starting to stream from her nose.
Acting on instinct and with the past haunting him, Jax lunged forward and cradled Eliza closer to him, bringing his psionics to bear. But, no matter how hard he pressed them against her overwhelming signature, she was unconsciously shutting him out at every turn. Eliza was overloading herself thanks to him, and it was no stretch to guess that he had to solve this, fast.
Turning his powers outwards, he broadcast a wide distress signal. He didn't care who picked it up—he intended it to be for his Mystics and his Matriarch, but if the PsiOps responded? He would need all the help he could get. With the rest of his power, he stalled the Commander's wayward psionics the best he could. Without thinking, he found himself feverishly muttering a hurried stream of "I'm sorry, I hadn't meant this." Was there truly nothing he could do right? Was he doomed to curse all that he touched?
The first response came fast, and granted, she may have been on her way beforehand. Jax heard the door slide open and in seconds, Maria was by his side, adding her psionics to the effort to halt Eliza's. It still wasn't enough—but they were making progress, as Eliza wasn't shaking as heavily. He could feel Maria's go to work specifically in halting and repairing the damage caused by the overloading. There was no questions to be had out of Maria... and in all likelihood, she knew what had happened.
Soon, the doors kept opening, and more Mystics joined his side. One or two signatures he didn't recognize came, and at that point, he stopped with his muttering. Eliza's hair began to settle down, and she was no longer violently shuddering. Slowly, thankfully, the power brought on by multiple signatures was enough to calm Eliza's rampant power.
Jax could not stand to see Eliza immediately, could not stand to look her in the face after what he had done. Focusing on her, his psionics reached out. Though her signature had simmered down, he issued one last command: sleep.
Eliza closed her eyes, slumping against him and breathing calmly. The blood from her nose had stopped and so had the tears that had began to flow. Jax himself felt like he could barely breathe as he was now party to so many people that had come in to see Eliza, collapsed in his arms. What would they think? Would they believe him to have tried to kill her? He hadn't meant for this to happen. Not again...
He chanced looking up. Most of those who surrounded him were his Mystics, thankfully. The three signatures he hadn't recognized belonged to Benald, Pattie... and the Templar Marlene. Though she had a helmet on, he felt as if her gaze readily met with his. The specter that hung above her head was retracting its tentacles from the Commander, its job done. Familiar, very familiar whispers now surrounded him. A fault, they said. A mistake. No malice. Trouble to be had.
Seemingly sensing his bewilderment, Maria took charge of the situation, Jax complied as she moved the Commander into her arms, standing up. "We need to get her to the Infirmary," she said. "I need to see to her regarding her psionic overload."
With that, Iris specifically dashed ahead of her and opened the door for Maria as she ran out, carefully holding Eliza the whole way. The Mystics funneled out after her with a few glances cast behind their back at him. Hestia and Demeter broke from the group, coming to either side of Jax and taking both of his hands into theirs. Benald and Pattie followed them, with Pattie already beginning to say something as the door closed behind them. That left Marlene, unmoving from her kneel.
Jax could only blankly ahead, still left in shock at what he had done. He had learned nothing. Fifteen years and he was still as inept as he was back then. There was no improvement, no honing of his abilities. Why did he ever think—
Jax jolted upright as the intriguing feeling of someone trying to scan his thoughts went through him, his surprise drawing the twin Mystics' attention. He turned his head to Marlene, the being above her retracting a tentacle again. Marlene "looked" at him a moment before speaking. "It wasn't your fault."
He couldn't believe that. If he'd been more cautious, if he had not moved so boldly... Jax shook his head. "You... you could not know."
"And yet, I do," she intoned. "You became distracted by her psionics, yes, but you set yourself on your mission anew. You could not have guessed at the power that lay beneath the veil. In the end, you have succeeded, and the Commander will be no worse for wear thanks to your Matriarch's healing. You will suffer the consequences of misunderstanding, but... this is all for the best."
At the ominous speech Marlene presented him, Jax couldn't help but stare. She... was absolutely correct in what had happened, but how did she know? The skim she had performed while he was distracted was only surface-level, enough to know what he had been thinking at the moment and nothing else. Her confidence in saying what would happen next was equally astounding. Jax, when he was young, had whispers of what would happen in the far, far future. The whispers that surrounded Marlene sounded eerily familiar. Was she, as her moniker suggested, a true Seer?
Figuring he couldn't sit there, dumbstruck, he looked away from her. "... do you have any words of wisdom for me, oracle...?"
She was silent for a second before she spoke. "Your brother means the best. At heart, he is worried for and fond of Eliza. Do not be combative as might come naturally—let him say his part, and then you, yours."
Nodding, Jax numbly got to his feet. Hestia and Demeter followed after him, still on either arm. "... Seer. You are welcome at any time to my congregation. And... thank you. For your assistance."
"I will join you when Eliza confirms that she means you no harm." From the sounds of it, Marlene got up as well and walked to the door behind him. "Good luck, Chosen Warlock. You will need it."
With that, he heard the door open and close, leaving him to ruminate over his failures once more.
