NSFW

In the healing pod aboard the Ni S'pri, Casnar feels nothing as the automatic surgeon inside the mechanism seamlessly closes up the last of the visible entry marks left by the siqya dartheads that entered under his shoulderblades at his spine and the surgeon shuts down…Miranda opens the lid and checks his skin with her fingers covered by blue gloves, "…All set, Soterios, you may get up once the feeling has returned to your limbs." She pulls the gloves off and discards them in an incinerator nearby the counterspace.

Casnar lifts his face out of the donut-hole in the table Miranda opened for him while the surgery was performed on his back, and turns his face to look at her—mainly her waist in the gray uniform and his eye must strain a little to see part of her neck, chin, and cheek before she bends somewhat to see him easier. "Thank you," he says rather stiffly, "…that would have been unfortunate had the Ni S'pri not shown up when it did…Where is Tetonbaum?…Is he still negotiating on my part?…And his?"

"Tetonbaum as far as I know was there when last I checked in with Thane," she nods to the camera in the ceiling corner of the lab, "…while your operation was underwent," she shakes her head at him and this causes Casnar to strain a little further and wiggle to roll awkwardly onto his left to look—no, glare—at her.

"What…Why are you shaking your head at me," he demands, his tongue still feeling sluggish but forming the words in Common Speech.

Miranda sighs, "…You don't need me to repeat what I was thinking back at the Souir before you left—"

"Since when could I read your mind—"

"You don't need to, Casnar," she retorts with her thicker accent coming out, "…Bloody Hell…" She looks away from him and rolls her eyes with more jostles of her luxurious chocolate hair slipping and sliding over her shoulders as she crosses her arms under her breasts, lifting them some due to their ampleness…

The suit is nothing compared to what she used to wear working for Cerberus but it still does not prevent her figure from being clearly understood as a feminine "matriarchal" ideal that Asaris often envy her for—and ridicule her even—as she is Human and knows how to "work it" as much as they do in their latter years…Miranda did not have to wait several centuries for her busts and curves to fill-out like Asaris'…She was designed to mature early, and uphold those designed genetics her father—sickly-obsessed with a notion of perfection in his legacy—tailored Miranda with. Casnar had noticed her soon as she set foot into a satellite office just on the edge of Hanar space, and flaunted a slim red business suit with the bright blue eyes and luxurious coif of a pulled-back chiffon.

A younger drell at the time, he had been dazzled by his first interaction with the female human species, and had nervously helped her with her inquiries, found her opening, alluring and empathetic. She had his interest, and seemingly, was interested in him—and his family upbringing, though she was engaging his office for different and professional reasons…It had not mitigated his first crush on the doll-like construct of genetic perfection, and he had not been able to find out much about her through scrutinizing what data he could come up with over various networks.

She was well-classified…Yet he learned much about her, simply by talking…

Or so he thought…Naïveté was a bitch, he later learned.

"You know, I should have expected this," he starts to push himself up on his elbow, his fingers slow to work. "You betrayed me and Iri, hold it against me when I go off and get myself hurt…"

"Oh, shut up, Casnar," Miranda narrows back at him. "I didn't mean to offend you—"

"You did," he snaps, caustic now and confronting it as he fumbles up onto his hip, his torso naked and his waist covered in a linen over his pants and sash. "Get this off me." He knocks the linen away. "I'm not naked."

Miranda tugs the rest of the linen off the floor where he has knocked it down and straightens.

Casnar looks back at her—sitting up and balancing on the table with his legs hanging over, feet in touch with the floor by heels of soft boots.

"I was in love with you…I let you into everything, Miranda."

She says nothing, slowly folding up the cloth with her hands.

Casnar stares at her, not hiding his resentment, confronting it directly. There will always be the first one that touches another in such a way to leave their impression forever, whenever he thinks of that first one…and though they had never been intimate in a physical sense, there had been an intimacy—at least on his part.

Braith in the picture now—and out of it—and Miranda there before him with the smell of Rakhana on her clothes, hair, and skin…was making Casnar nervous, anxious and upset.

"I'm sorry, Casnar, I already said that about Iri, but for you…what you thought you felt—"

"I know what I felt!" Casnar looks quickly to the lens in the camera to the Medical Lab, stands awkwardly and unsteadily balances his way on clumsy feet over to it, turning the camera to access its wires and detach these from the outlet in the ceiling.

He turns back to Miranda. "No recordings. I don't want what I say to you here to ever leave, Miranda. This is what I've wanted to say to you since you stole that data from Iri and broke my heart. Ruined her and broke hers, too…"

He steps over to her, pulls her hand with the cloth, and separates the linen from her fingers to toss onto the medical bed.

"Look at me."

She does.

"I hate you. I hate you as much as I love you, the first and the one…Now I have Braith. She is the one for me. You look at me like you care for me and you have no right to be angry about my decisions and where I choose to take my energies...We are not together—"

"We never were," Miranda hesitates, "…It was only talk."

"I introduced you to Iri," he says, his voice level, calm—accusing. "I told you about my family. You made up stories, led me on so that I would continue to fall deeper…and Braith wonders why I'm such an asshole, when she was around that is…" He pauses and looks down at his legs. "Hmm…Limbs are working," he says distractedly and looks up at her, "…Good."

"Casnar, I'm only trying to help now—"

"Good, right, of course," he goes on, suddenly feeling remote and awkward, now unsure why he said everything.

Perhaps the effect of the siqya dart was influencing him to be talkative...

"…I'm leaving."

In a moment of frustration, he turns and stumbles—Miranda catches his arm and his waist to keep him in balance and he rotates towards her, straightening with the feel of her palm on the muscle of his waist and the tricep of his arm.

They hesitate, so close to each other, and Casnar has not seen or touched Braith for some time now…

Miranda right there with the look of a hope that shouldn't be—because it is not possible, not any longer.

He hesitates…

Miranda lifts her chin up and kisses his mouth on the lower lip.

"Mithras, don't—"

He shudders in that kiss, his will tested and an erection promptly threatening at the touch of soft skin against his firmer mouth. "Don't…do that…Miranda…"

Casnar clutches his hand into a fist as he restrains himself from kissing her back…She draws away and blinks at him. "Does it mean anything to you now, Casnar," she asks.

He opens his eyes, learning he has closed these from her while she kissed him…He looks harder at her—weakens, and caresses the hair on the top of her head, down to its ends just under her shoulder.

He cups her arm, leans in with a sigh and covers her mouth with his own. They kiss in secret, silently, his hands on her head and her waist, her arms down by his, her fingers touching the bare of his back and the taut wrinkles of his sash.

He licks the inside of her mouth, tasting and memorizing her flavor—shamefully comparing it to Braith's…Finding he misses Braith's mouth more…He hears Miranda exhale as he kisses her harder and tightens his hold on her, lifting her to struggle-walk her back against the counter of the lab space, across from the medical bed—and leans into her, pressing the hill of his erection over the seam of her pants...Casnar sighs again and his throat rumbles with a low growl as he pulls down his band and tugs at her belt and pants by her hips, moving the synthetic fabric and utility leather apart and over her thighs. He presses the head of his cock against her underwear, leans in hard, and growls deeper as he drops his face to the hollow of her neck, listening to her gasp by his teness.

He does not enter as he would were she Braith, but he teases her with the potential of a few degrees of separation between his phallus and her heat, a thin fabric in the way.

Casnar's grip on her skin lessens.

"No," he says, raising his face and looking at her thinning eyes. "No…it's not the same as it used to be…"

He pulls away from her, tucks in himself to his pants and prepares to leave.

"Is that what you wanted to tell me, Casnar," Miranda says, sliding off the counter and hiking her pants back up over her hips, the belt loose enough to tighten after his roughly pulling it undone. "Just a cocktease? That's your vendetta?"

Casnar chuckles. "'Eye for an eye' they say, but I haven't gotten you back yet, Miranda, for that to be the declaration we truthfully apply here and now…" He goes to the door, picking up his blood-stained topshirt to take with him. Casnar stops, looks at the camera and back at her. "Thane wasn't watching, so I guess you can make something up about why I deactivated the feed."

"You knew about Thane and I."

"Just fuck him already, Miranda," Casnar says, the door irising open. "Doesn't matter to me…"

Tetonbaum approaches the ramp, leaving the th'anes behind him as he ascends the flooring to the bay interior, his eyes up and bright as he enters the lit-hold. He sees Grunt up there with the burrells loyal to Casnar, Ylyssus helping with the the disconcerted di'leans and tethering them to the hold for safe transport.

Casnar comes out from the opening into the rest of the ship, and sees Tetonbaum. Tetonbaum goes straight to him and they embrace quietly once they meet among the burrells, Grunt watching the th'anes down below at the base of the ramp with wary distrust, a rifle in his thick gloves.

"How did it go, Tetonbaum," Casnar asks once they separate, "…With them," he nods to the base of the rampway, "…You can tell me about your captivity and rescue later."

The former high th'ane nods, "…I am to be decommissioned, Brother," he says, and Casnar's tebris constricts. "But after we recover Braith. It is in everyone's interest." He ducks his wavy crests apologetically, "…To keep you free for now, and Kasumi…alive and nonimperiled," he adds.

Casnar looks down at the ramp base and up at Tetonbaum. "You would do that?…Why not just go back to them? They wouldn't kill you for that now, would they?"

Tetonbaum shakes his head. "I've only spoken the truth…They can send someone else to be your Menjaga and…Since being captured and all," his voice is heavy in his throat as Tetonbaum looks to the entry passage—where beyond Kasumi will be waiting perhaps with Thane and Garrus in the Navigation areas, "…I have much to debrief them with…Might as well do it after we go to Rakka, save Braith for you and she to be together," Tetonbaum's smile is still evident on his face though Casnar knows this is terrible news.

"Decommissioned" will mean death or exile—and then death—for a th'ane, particularly one such as Tetonbaum…and because he is I'lorie, he will have a particularly difficult path to die by….

Casnar thinks quickly, "…I could send you off-world, Tetonbaum, you and Kasumi…You would not be able to return—"

But Tetonbaum stops him with a wave of his hand.

"Brother, my dear brother," Tetonbaum says softly. "Rakhana is my home. I could never leave this world and be who I am—who Kasumi adores…It would change me and I—I do not want that for her, or myself…or you," his eyes tighten in the corners, "…It would also bring dishonor to our name, ban'non though I am…"

Casnar feels his eyes well with tears, and throws his elbow around Tetonbaum's neck and shoulders, embracing his brother as the th'anes below watch and the burrells, with Ylyssus and Grunt, looking over.

"Mithras damn us all," he whispers, and shakes Tetonbaum under his arm with a fierceness, as he blinks at the ceiling of the bay, lights making blind-spots in his eyes. "…Damn this Keep…"

Casnar releases him and steps back, moving his cape out from its tangle among his still awkward legs, the siqya paralysis poison slowly dissipating. "Let's go then," he says thickly, "…Fuck going home…I'll deal with Cartira later," Casnar nods to Ylyssus and the drell comes over to assist however he can, "…Let's go to Rakka…Let's get back Braith."