Furiously pacing his room with his head in his hands, Horatio hadn't even heard his wife follow him inside, believing himself alone until he felt her gentle hold on his wrists that immediately halted him.

"'Oratio..."

Despite the soothing tone of her voice, he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze as she lightly pulled his hands from his head, certain she could feel him trembling in her grip. He shook his head, refusing to explain anything to her.

"No... No, I'm not talking about this. I said no."

"Zhen...don't talk," she answered with the softest care, reaching up to caress his cheek, "just...breazhe wizh me." With the slowest, most careful of movements, Liaa pressed her ear cone against his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist to calm him. The deliberate, calculated rise and fall of her chest against his was soothing, but his mind hadn't yet slowed its pace.

"Your 'eart is racing," she breathed with worry, tightening her hold ever so slightly as she stood with him. She remained still and waited out his distress, silently determined to help him by any means necessary. He had almost forgotten the endless depths of her patience, a skill she'd built from the requirements of her old occupation years ago. She would far outlast his anxiety, he mused, and that thought somehow calmed him, allowing his entire body to sag with the weight of his torment.

"'ere," she gently pulled him toward their bed, "let's sit. You need rest."

He complied without much thought, his legs following her command to sit beside her though his mind hadn't completely given in.

"I need Wil to stop demanding I do what he wants."

He expected a string of probing questions and his anger quickly rose in anticipation, but instead, he heard nothing but her soft breath beside him and felt only her tender grip on his arm. He released a long sigh after a few moments, somehow compelled to explain his fury against his will.

"Someone followed us through the city, and when we cornered him, he said he recognized me because he knew my parents. But...that's impossible. I tried to explain that to Wil, but he...he believes him and wants to learn more from him. He's bought into this man's lies completely, and I can't convince him otherwise."

A thoughtful silence hung in the cabin for a brief pause, and her voice couldn't have been more quiet.

"You are so certain zhat 'e told you lies. Why?"

"Because I have no way to prove that what anything he says is true! He could tell me any number of things, but how would I know any different, when the earliest thing I can remember is shivering alone in some dark Underlevel alley against a gutted gonk droid? I was just a kid - I had nothing, and I had no one. And he's just a kid, too. He couldn't have known my parents; he's too young. He has to be one of Tzymo's agents, sent to hurt me somehow. I just don't know why, after all these years, he'd send someone now."

Again Liaa remained pensive and patient as she absorbed his words, hesitating the slightest bit to counter him after a long stretch of quiet.

"But...what if 'e is telling you zhe truzh?"

Stubbornly determined to remain guarded against her gentle persuasion, he shook his head defiantly. It wasn't possible, he adamantly continued to tell himself; he was being lured into some kind of trap and he refused to give in. Something about Baxer was...off, triggering every warning klaxon in his head that told him to avoid and to run. Why was that so hard for everyone else to understand?

"'Oratio, you 'ave been looking over your shoulder for so long," she soothed, brushing her fingers along his chin, "and I know it 'as kept you alive. But 'ow many years 'as it been since we 'ave 'eard even whispers of Tzymo? 'e is...long gone. You are free of 'im. And now you 'ave been given a wonderful chance to learn about your family from zhis man. You should take it."

Again he shook his head. "I don't need to know about them, even if what he says is true. It won't change anything."

"Maybe not for you...but what about your son? Your daughter? Don't zhey deserve to know?"

Though he felt his guard slowly being worn down, he couldn't answer her, prompting her to continue softly.

"I will never know where my family comes from. Rakos could 'ave taken me from Rylozh, or I could 'ave been born among anozher slaver group and traded to 'im; zhere is no way for me to find out now. I 'ave made my peace wizh it, as much as it makes me sad. But you, 'Oratio, you 'ave an opportunity in front of you zhat I could only dream of, and it is staring you in zhe face. You know zhat I, more zhan anyone, understand why you 'esitate, but...I zhink you should embrace zhis. 'ear 'im out, zhen decide 'ow you want to proceed from zhere."

It was particularly cruel of her to compare their similar pasts. Cruel, he mused, but effective. They had found each other years ago because of a serendipitous convergence - he a ruthless mercenary who had little direction in his life after his twin sister had passed, she a slave dancer and escort who longed for meaningful companionship far from the clutches of her horrible Zygerrian owner. She had learned very early in their friendship how to carefully manipulate his mood, somehow forcing him to see reason when his emotions had taken hold. It was a skill she had heavily relied on in her position as a private dancer, and though she had only used it on him sparingly, she had chosen a few very critical moments in which to wield her power over him. He could do little to resist.

He sighed again, relenting. "Fine," he answered weakly. "But I can't promise I'm going to believe him."

A faint smile had returned to her face as she squeezed his arm in subtle support and lightly kissed his cheek. "You don't 'ave to. Just...listen."

"...the guy even knew my grandfather's name, Kazimir, which has been my dad's alias for decades! Dad remembered it! But he still won't listen. I don't understand. He's been paranoid and willfully ignorant before, but this is...this is over the top."

Absorbing Wil's flurry of information with grace, Cordira paused only a brief moment, preparing her words from her seat just beside him.

"Wil, your father has been through a lot of terrible things in his life. He's navigated so much of it completely on his own, and from a very young age. It's likely that he had to tell himself some...incredibly awful truths in order to survive."

Wil furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"He had to learn, very early on, that the only person he could rely on was himself. If he had remained...passive, sitting around just waiting for his family to return for him, he probably wouldn't have made it off of Coruscant alive. He likely had to tell himself that he was better off without them, that they were horrible people who had left him and his sister behind intentionally, and he didn't need to miss them or want them. Imagine believing that your entire life, never once giving them a second thought, because that thought, that distraction, could have meant the difference between life and death. And then today, someone comes out of nowhere and challenges everything you've thought about yourself... It's not surprising in the least that he reacted the way he did."

Genuinely dumbstruck, Wil hardly breathed. "I...hadn't thought of it like that."

At least she appeared sympathetic with a soft smile. "And why would you? You have had access to records on every single Rys'tihn ancestor you have since you were small. You know their names, when they were born, where they were born, what their lives were like... You've never known what it's like to be without family."

Though he agreed, he remained curious. "Neither have you."

Surprised at being challenged, she consciously corrected her expression before responding. "True. Doesn't mean I can't understand where he might be coming from." She took in and released a slow breath, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. "I'm not saying it was right for your father to react so harshly to you, but I understand why. And I realize it was alternately an exciting encounter for you. I probably would have reacted the same. But it will take your father some time to process, so...try to temper that excitement a bit, for his sake. Give him a chance to recover."

Wil nodded, letting go of the breath he had been holding. She was so good at explaining his shortsightedness to him so mercifully. "I'll apologize to him."

She smiled warmly. "I hope he'll do the same."

"I'll be surprised if he does," he laughed lightly to himself, shaking his head. "It's never been his best skill." Coming back to his senses as he suddenly recalled their secondary mission on Corellia, Wil glanced about the cargo hold with realization. "Wait...did Liaa already find a new ship? Is that why you're all back already?"

A penitent expression rolled over Cordira's features as she hesitated to explain, further confusing him. "No, I... I brought everyone back. I could sense your distress, and I was afraid something had happened. But I wanted to keep everyone together and safe, so I thought it would be best to return to the ship first, then try to locate you."

Wil furrowed his brows. "You could tell I was upset from the other side of the city?"

"It's an...unintended side effect of our training together," she confirmed softly, her gaze briefly fixed on empty space. "I seem to forge a very deep bond with those I train, and it lasts. I can still tell every time my friend Rathor loses a round of sabacc from half a galaxy away." Catching the brief expression on Wil's face, she laughed lightly as she shook her head. "Don't worry, I can't read your mind or anything, I only get an overall sense of your feelings. If...if it bothers you, I'll - "

"No," Wil interrupted with a small smile. "It's okay. I appreciate your concern. Good to know you'll have my back."

Cordira held his gaze with warm affection in her own eyes. "Always."

With a long, centering breath, Wil focused his mind, preparing to rely on her training and guidance to navigate yet another difficult discussion with his father as he stood from her side and made his way toward the cabins.