The painful, hazy return to consciousness after suffering the effects of a stun bolt was nothing new to Horatio. His head and his side throbbed, as he expected them to, but he also expected to find new wounds elsewhere. He had just watched Azira's lieutenant deliver a vicious kick to his former partner's head, after all, and he hadn't done a thing to prevent it. They could have done far worse to him, though he worried more for Mand. If she hadn't already been incapacitated by Aalon's stun bolt, the Trandoshan's strike would have certainly knocked her out, if it hadn't actually killed her...
Horatio's stomach churned violently with the thought. Willing his battered body to move with urgency, he held his side as he sat up from the floor and took in his new surroundings. He'd been moved to a small, dark cell, and it was quiet. He was alone - no Mand, no Max. A containment field along one of the four walls was the only way in or out, though he could see through to the neighboring cells on either side of him by way of vertical, narrow slits spaced apart close to the floor. The cell to his right seemed to be empty on first glance, but to his left, he immediately spotted an outstretched woman's hand, motionless and palm up on the grimy floor. It had to be her. His heart caught in his throat as he quickly crawled towards her, looking into her cell to assess her. She was alone, too, sprawled carelessly on her back with her face turned away from him, and she was so deathly, eerily still...
"...Kil?"
He watched her for a long moment, in total disbelief that not even her chest lifted with breathing motion. Panicked, he managed to stretch one arm through the closest opening in the wall, desperately reaching out to her. He could only barely brush her fingers, so he strained even more, bruising and stressing his shoulder and arm muscles to their max as his hand finally closed around hers and pulled it closer. Her arm extended limply, but he wasted little time, his fingers frantically fumbling around her wrist for her pulse...
It was weak, but she was alive.
Letting go of a tense breath he had been holding, Horatio gripped Mand's hand tightly, curling her fingers around his as he lifted and gently shook her arm to rouse her. He kept his voice low, though, to avoid earning attention from anyone outside their cells...
"Kil? Come on, Kil, you've got to wake up... Kil..."
He continued to call for her, begging for her to respond, but she remained so still for several terrible minutes...until he heard her sharp inhalation and subsequent moans and gasps of pain. Her hand in his began to tremble as she came around, struggling to get a handle on the agony he was certain she was feeling from her head injury. Separated from her by a cell wall, though, he comforted her the only way he could, massaging the back of her hand with his thumb as he weakly called her name again.
"Kil..."
She slowly turned her head towards him, allowing him to finally see the horrible gash across her right temple that was still oozing bright red blood down her face. With great effort, she released a slow breath, controlling her pain and neutralizing her expression as she met his gaze. "Horatio..." He nodded weakly to her, still holding tightly to her hand as she briefly closed her eyes. "My head..."
He swallowed before responding to stifle his rage and guilt. "The Trandoshan took a cheap shot at you after you'd been stunned."
She accepted his revelation so casually, yet a moment later, her eyes widened with fear as she returned to him. "Are you okay?"
The question left him somewhat baffled. How could she possibly be concerned about him while she had her own obvious suffering to deal with? His strength had all but left him. "...I'm fine, Kil."
Her relief was shortlived. "And Max?"
A chilling scream of pain echoed down the corridor to them before he could respond, startling them both. It was greatly muffled and distorted by distance and obstacles as it continued, but Horatio already knew it belonged to his nephew Max, and again he had difficulty finding his voice. "Azira took him first."
Max's torture went on for an agonizing minute, and it wasn't until he felt Mand's hand squeeze his that he realized he hadn't taken a breath in that long. He drew it in shakily, focusing his gaze on her once more as he spoke with a voice that was just as troubled. Their situation was deteriorating rapidly, and he'd made his decision.
"When you get the chance...you need to get out of here, Kil."
Though he had spoken clearly, she appeared confused. "...what?"
"You're the only one of us who can escape. I know you can, and you have to."
"Horatio," she shook her head at him, tightening her fingers around his again. "I'm not leaving you behind, you or Max. So don't talk like that - "
"I trust you to protect my children," he breathed with emotion, leaving the rest of his thoughts unsaid. I trust you to protect them, because I know I won't be around to... "Please, Kil... I need you to do this for me."
Finally understanding the gravity of his request, Mand closed her eyes briefly, seeming to draw on Force for the strength to sit up from the floor. She moved slowly, pulling on his hand for leverage as she lifted herself up, though the effort appeared to have cost her more than she had anticipated. Color drained from her face as she stilled, her breath leaving her in short spurts, yet she remained erect through sheer force of will. It would be several more moments before she composed herself and met his gaze again, but her resolve never wavered. She had nothing to prove to him, and yet she had reminded him just how resilient she could be.
"We will find a way to get out of this...all of us. We always do. Have patience, Horatio. The opportunity will come. I know it will." She paused a moment, her expression falling with regret. "...I am sorry, though."
Horatio furrowed his brows. "What do you have to be sorry for?"
"You asked me to warn you if I thought one of your nephews was working against us," she needlessly reminded him of their cryptic exchange before they'd made their way into Azira's station. "I was...leaning towards Max. His inexplicably vast array of knowledge, the way he arrived at the Guild compound after so easily subverting its security... I thought he was the one leading us into a trap. I was wrong, and this is my fault. I'm sorry."
He shook his head to dismiss her regret, though he knew he couldn't say much to alleviate it. Had he been honest with himself, he would have realized that he had suspected Aalon all along, but he had instead been more desperate to be proven wrong. Perhaps that had made him blind to what should have been so obvious; a protective relative wouldn't have brought along destructive flash detonators had he truly been acting in Jewel's best interest, nor would he have nearly murdered an intervening half-brother to escape without witnesses. Aalon's excuses hadn't added up to any semblance of sense in hindsight, but longing for a relationship with his late sister's sons, Horatio had ignored the warning signs, and he shared the blame in their fate.
A blank, distant look returned to Mand's eyes briefly, concerning him that she was on the brink of blacking out, but she stubbornly fought through it. He still held her hand in a firm grip, afraid to let go though she was no longer in need of his assistance. She seemed to appreciate his gesture as their gazes lingered on each other in the moment, broken only by the sound of approaching footsteps that immediately put Horatio on edge. Were they bringing Max back from his torture session? Was he next, or would they take Mand instead since she was still weakened by her injury?
One lone figure rounded the corner and slowly approached them from the dark hallway, and rage alone lifted Horatio to his feet in an instant. Their visitor was...most unwelcome.
"If it's not the traitor himself," Horatio seethed, meeting his nephew's reciprocal dark glare. He paced the path in front of the containment field, steering attention away from Mand in the cell beside his as much as possible. "I thought you'd be long gone by now. Come to gloat some more? Or has Azira just not paid you yet?"
Even in the face of his uncle's fury, Aalon's expression changed little. No hint of remorse or guilt, just...blank disinterest. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned his back against the wall behind him, a casual tone in his voice.
"We're still working on the details. She owes me some weapons, and a lot more credits."
"Right," Horatio growled. "Credits. Trading away your family, your blood, for a business transaction. Never would've thought that a choice like that would sit so easily with a Sheridan."
Aalon's eyes narrowed noticeably; Horatio seemed to have finally struck a nerve, but the Hunter Lead withheld his response a long, tense moment.
"...you want me to tell you that it was a difficult decision?" Aalon gave a short huff, shrugging as he shook his head. "It wasn't. The second the two of you stepped foot in my compound...was the second my decision was made for me.
"It's no secret that Azira's been after you for years for what you did to the Huxnel. If she had found out that I'd had the two of you in my custody, and I had let you go? ...she would have destroyed my Guild without a second thought.
"I don't have any loyalty to you. But to my hunters? I owe them everything. And they owe me. So yeah...you were a business transaction. They are my family. I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."
Horatio stood just before the containment field, its energy raising the hair on his skin as a warning of his close proximity to its barrier. He paid it no mind, though, staring his nephew down as a fierce, icy tremor tore through his chest. He could no longer believe that his sister's son had become so callous, so heartless, when all he'd known of Recero was her unyielding love for her twin brother. The two of them were the only family they'd known for years. Separated as young orphaned children, they'd crossed paths only a handful of times before she'd succumbed to her illness in her early adulthood, but they'd always felt connected with that indescribable familial bond, that innate drive to protect each other... How had Aalon been steered so wrong? He was well beyond redemption, that seemed painfully clear; ...was that Horatio's fault?
Somehow he eventually managed to respond, his rage long since replaced by sorrow and pity for his wayward nephew. "All that talk...about how you'd protected Jewel from harm when you took her... That you only wanted to keep her safe from that bounty, because she was family... Answer me this...was all that before or after you'd decided to betray us?"
His emotional words elicited a more subtle reaction from Aalon. The younger Sheridan's jaw clenched as he looked to the floor, and his gaze never lifted, even as he responded. "...does it matter?"
The Hunter Lead's body language gave him away, and Horatio had his answer.
"...she would have been so ashamed of you."
Another set of footsteps echoing up the hallway stalled any further exchange the two Sheridan men would have, and Horatio was faintly thankful for the reprieve. Aalon turned and began to silently leave, but Azira's voice called out to him, beckoning him back.
"Mr. Roeken, don't you want to see a demonstration of your new investment?"
The silver-haired woman swiftly strolled into sight, effortlessly carrying a bulky, modified blaster rifle in her hands. Two of her lackeys followed just behind her, and between them they dragged Max's limp body to a third cell on Horatio's other side. He followed Max intently for signs of life as the two hefted him inside it and dropped him without care, sealing the cell as they left. Though Max didn't appear to be completely conscious, Horatio could hear his labored breathing as painful muscle spasms contracted his body at random, a residual effect of his intense torture at Azira's hands. Had she gotten the information she wanted out of him? Or had he held out and his body had given up first?
"My new prototype," Azira continued proudly, showing off her prized weapon to everyone present. "Guaranteed to turn the tide of any hunt, Guildmaster. Any target, any skill, any defense is useless against it," she paused briefly as she leveled her intense gaze down at Mand directly, "...even the Force."
Though intrigued, Aalon wisely kept a modest distance and fostered a healthy skepticism against Azira's lofty claims. "How can a blaster rifle possibly outmatch a Force-wielder?"
Azira grinned devilishly. "Each bolt fired is also a small incendiary explosive charge. It detonates on contact with impressive power. It also detonates...if it detects even the slightest change in trajectory - say, because of a Jedi's deflection with the Force. They'll have the choice to either take the charge themselves, or risk innocent collateral damage. And knowing the Jedi that I do...they won't dare risk that. Release a punishing volley of fire, and your Jedi target will have no option but to perish."
A horrible sense of fear settled in Horatio's chest as he met Mand's gaze through a small hole midway up the wall where the panel had partially rotted away. She had the same understanding in her eyes, as they had both come to the same conclusion without speaking a word to each other: Azira's weapons needed to be destroyed before any could leave the station.
Aalon's expression, though, had changed very little as he maintained his position, much to Azira's dismay. He glanced into his brother's cell beside him, briefly watching Max as he continued to weakly convulse on the floor, but Azira grew impatient and demanded his attention instead.
"Your hunters, Guildmaster, will be an unstoppable force with these new weapons. You'll earn their undying loyalty when you equip them with such power, and the Bounty Hunters Guild will once again be feared and respected across the galaxy."
Aalon studied Azira for a long moment with a calculating gaze, seeming to suddenly see straight through the old woman's proposal. "...you don't have the credits you put down on that bounty, do you."
A brief twitch caught in Azira's eye. "...I'm offering you weapons that will double your hunters' efficiency and earn you more than triple your investment in mere weeks. You will regret not taking my offer."
"My hunters can supply their own blasters, and they're plenty efficient as they are. Credits, Azira, or I'll take my bounty back with me."
Though Horatio didn't know why, a loud, shrill warning began to sound in the back of his mind, and the same thing must have earned Mand's attention, as well, as she shakily pulled herself onto her feet. "Aalon..."
Without warning, a single blaster shot rang out, followed immediately by a bright, concussive explosion in the confined corridor. Horatio reflexively ducked and covered his head, falling to the far wall of his cell though the containment field protected him from the force of the blast. Too stunned to move, he hardly even breathed as he processed what had just happened in shock. His ears and his eyes were slow to recover, but...the smell...
Azira's boots clicked on the durasteel floor as she slowly moved again, and though Horatio wasn't sure if he could bear to look, he had to. He somehow got to his feet and watched as Azira knelt down next to Aalon's body that had been blasted even further down the hall. Exposed flesh still smoldered, and while there didn't appear to be much left of the Guildmaster's anterior chest wall, Azira was able to detach the undamaged commpad from Aalon's wrist and clip it to her own.
"...I told you that you would regret not taking my offer."
