Nathan matches glare for glare, a small twinge in the back of his mind that tells him to back down and cool off. He knows what Leah is like and he knows that she wasn’t telling him to murder slaves either. But there was a part of him that remembers Jasmine and keeps putting her to the front of his mind. The part of him that hounds him in his darker moments for not saving her life, her mother’s life, her
#Miner'sRespite – January 8, 2019
father’s life. A part of him that replays the memory in vivid detail as he watched, one by one, his team and their charges fall to the torrent of gunfire and explosions that tore their bodies to shreds. And this is the part of him that refuses to listen to Leah. His hands tighten into fists, then relax again, a low grunt escaping him as he fights the internal battle in him to either agree with what she says
or vehemently disagree. In the end, he inhales a sharp breath and says, “I’m very aware of how this kind of thing can go.” Almost as if triggered by the memory, the scar over his heart itches. “Very.”
Leah allows her gaze to lower to the table when Nathan finally speaks up, keenly aware of where his mind must be going. Out of respect, she gives the situation some space. A few moments to breathe. "...I know you are." she says softly. "Nate-..." she begins, but finds herself trailing off as she closes her big green eyes, a huff of air escaping her as the words get caught in her throat. The Collector ship made her acutely aware
of just how different their careers have been. Her job during her time with the Alliance was to be a scalpel. Focused. Dangerous. Mission oriented. Her job, like the job of so many other biotics, was to be a weapon. It wasn't always the prettiest job, but it taught her much. "That's why we're here." she says when her eyes open, a hint of fatigue creeping into her tone as those big green orbs level on Nathan. "To run
through the scenarios. To come up with a plan. And-... yes, to acknowledge just how wrong everything can go." To be clinical. Organized. Everything planned down to the finest detail, all the t's crossed and the i's dotted. And to have an understanding that it will all fall apart the moment that plan is put to the test against the enemy. That's what it taught her. "We don't always get to save everyone. We can try-... we
will try, but-... but the choice isn't always in our hands." She finds her mind turning back to James. Nathan's reaction to that whole turn of events. "...I know that's not something I need to tell you." she adds softly. "Acknowledging it doesn't make me any more happy about it than you are, Nate. I promise you that much. But this is how we mitigate the collateral. Identify all of the angles. Figure out how we manage
Nathan closes his eyes and allows a moment for him to still his mind, still the whirlwind of thoughts that threaten to spiral him downwards in a maelstrom that he has traveled down too many times now. And now, the voices quieten down to just the one telling him that Leah has a point. Is right. They can’t save everybody. No one can. And one would think life has taught him this by now. Jasmine, James, the captives on
the Collector ship... it was impossible to save everyone. The thought brings him no comfort, but it at least allows him to come to a grim understanding. His eyes open, no longer hardened but replaced with acceptance. He’ll do everything he can to save as many as possible. True, he can’t save everyone. But every life saved is still a life saved in the end. And that’s better than nothing. “I know...
you’re right, I’m sorry. Everything is still a little...” he pauses, struggling for the right word. Eventually he settles on, “Fresh.”
Leah allows a small, sympathetic smile to cross her face as she reaches across the table and places a hand over top of Nathan's. "...Yeah." she sighs. She's no further from the events of the Collector ship than he is. But she's nothing if not a master of compartmentalization and, right now, she has a job to do. Sure, maybe there's an aspect of pouring herself into one to keep herself from focusing on the other. And, sure, maybe
those thoughts will still be there when this is all over, hidden amongst the Collectors and the Damiens that haunt the dark recesses of her mind. But that's not today. Today, Tara needs her. So for now? Push it all down and keep moving forward. That's how you keep from sinking, after all. You just keep swimming. "We're going to do everything we can for those people, Nate." she assures, giving his hand a soft pat. "But
it all hinges on Fasha. He's the one in charge. If we can't force a surrender, then our focus needs to be on incapacitating and gaining control of him as quickly as possible. Cut the head off the snake."
Nathan offers a half hearted smile at her, the kind you give to someone to try and deflect from an awkward moment. “So we need to shut him down anyway we can, but keep him alive.” He nods slowly and withdraws his hand from hers, subconsciously rubbing the back of it. He frowns lightly and looks to the side, rolling thoughts around inside his head. “So we either nab him as quickly as possible and force his men
to surrender, or we obliterate his men to the point where he has no choice but to listen. All the while watching for captives and slaves...”. He nods, chewing on his inner cheek. “I’ll do what I can with what I have. I can rig some of my ordnance to non lethal.”
Leah pulls her hand back as Nathan pulls away. It causes her to straighten up her posture and clear her throat, perhaps reading a bit too deeply into the gesture. Or maybe he was pulling away from her. The thought causes her to swallow at the lump forming in her throat. "...Yeah, that about covers it." she confirms, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. "Like I said. Best case scenario, we force a surrender right
away. Worst case...?" she draws in a long, deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. "Fasha isn't even with them. Tara seems confident that he will be, but-... nothing is guaranteed. In the event that he's a no-show? All we've done is put ourselves in the crosshairs of a house of batarian slavers. Unfortunately, we don't have too many other options. Equally bad would be letting him get away. And considering
pulls her hand back as Nathan pulls away. It causes her to straighten up her posture and clear her throat, perhaps reading a bit too deeply into the gesture. Or maybe he was pulling away from her. The thought causes her to swallow at the lump forming in her throat. "...Yeah, that about covers it." she confirms, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. "Like I said. Best case scenario, we force a surrender right
away. Worst case...?" she draws in a long, deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. "Fasha isn't even with them. Tara seems confident that he will be, but-... nothing is guaranteed. In the event that he's a no-show? All we've done is put ourselves in the crosshairs of a house of batarian slavers. Unfortunately, we don't have too many other options. Equally bad would be letting him get away. And considering
we have no idea how they'll even be arriving...?" she puffs out her cheeks as she begins to run down the variables that she's been batting around over and over in her head, "We don't even know what a retreat would entail. Will they have a shuttle? Are they just going to land an entire ship in the middle of the clearing?" she lists with a roll of her eyes, her own frustration over knowing so little showing through. Not
Nathan nods, having thought over these variables himself at a few points. He actually had the ordinance to completely wreck a shuttle and maybe even dent a small ship. But using it up would not only be a very expensive venture, it also brought far too many risks with it. He wasn’t willing to test those boundaries, not in this scenario. He looks back to her, perhaps not quite noticing her shift in posture, and gives
a weak chuckle. “Playing with the odds is what we do.” He spreads his hands in a shrug, before resting them on the table once more. “If things do go south and he gets away, I do have some feelers out there still that might be able to help track him down. If we’re going to hit them here, we need to be willing to peruse them further. Failing to do so will only end up bringing more trouble than we need
and not just to us. We risk this spreading to the rest of Redrock and even Freedom Falls.” He pauses, then adds, “Not that I’ll think it’ll come to that.”
Leah's expression grows more serious as Nathan begins to discuss the risk involved with Fasha escaping, but there's a relief in hearing him say as much. "Whether Fasha is there or not-... whether he escapes or-... or whatever? Once the fighting begins, we're not out of the woods until he's dead." she says, perhaps somewhat coldly. He's the target. This only ends one way, and that's with him ceasing to breathe. As far as she's
concerned he's already dead, she's just the messenger. "Which is why we need to make this opening salvo count. But if he gets away? We pursue." she agrees with a nod, "If we have to bring Redrock in on this, then we bring them in. But-... yeah. It only ends when that document is no longer in his possession and he's no longer capable of retaliating." She pauses as she meets his gaze once again, an apologetic tilt of her
head accompanying it. "So... So with that in mind. Are you still sure..?" she hangs out there, offering him one last guilt-free 'out'. "I mean, I'll understand if... It's a big ask."
Nathan gives a small hum of agreement to her initial statement, firmly of the same mind-set. A dead slaver is the only good slaver as far as he’s concerned and killing Fasha and his men will go a long way to making the galaxy that much of a better place for a whole lot of people. After all, the head of a slaver house is no easy feat, and if he ends up out here and right in their sights? It’s an opportunity he
knew people in Sandbeck would give anything for. However, as she finishes, he seems to focus a lot more on her now and he gives a very quick, but firm nod. “I’m still sure. There’s no way you’re getting me out of this one. It’s not over until this bastard is dead and I intend to see if through for Tara and you.”
Leah gives a small nod, turning her gaze to the plate of fries that are rapidly growing cold as a hint of that bright smile begins to show through. A silence comes over her and it's not hard to see that something else is on her mind. "And us...?" she hangs out there, wincing deeply as her cheeks begin to redden a shade when she hazards a brief glance back to Nathan's face. Suicide missions, covert ops, and slaver killing seems
to be a much more comfortable topic for her. "I mean-... it's been a few days and you've had time to think and-..." she begins to ramble, stammering over her own words before finally settling on her same question regarding Fasha: "Are you still sure...?" Relationships and slaver hunting. Given her past, it's hard for her not to consider which one presents more danger to Nathan's health.
Nathan actually seems to be caught quite off guard by the swing in topic. He blinks rapidly and clears his throat, a slight tingle of crimson rising in his cheeks. But, he does smile and he offers her a somewhat cheeky look, one that commonly appears when he’s about ready to poke fun at her. But, it doesn’t come. Perhaps some sensible part of him realises that she probably doesn’t need jest right now, but
genuine reassurance. So, instead, he reaches across for her hand and lifts it between both of his, place a gentle kiss on her fingers. “I’m sure.” Now that the assurance is out the way... “If you want, I could get it tattooed on my forehead as a daily reminder?”
Leah sucks in her lips to try and conceal the stupid grin that threatens to emerge at Nathan's attempt at reassurance. But it seems to do the trick. His question seems to hit its mark, causing the color in her cheeks to deepen as her own insecurities are brought to light. She gives a small, humorless, embarassed snort and snatch her hand away. Settling against the back of the booth, she uncrosses her legs and plants her clunky
boots against the seat just beside Nathan. Poking at her back teeth with her tongue, she gives him a flat, unamused look as she waves her middle finger back and forth in front of herself. "Uh huh." she mutters, "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Whatever we can do to cover up all of-..." she extends her index finger towards him, drawing a circle around his face with it, "...that? I'm all for it!" Smug.
Nathan grins even wider, how reaction causing him to relax truly since he got here. A laugh escapes him as he nudges her leg with his own, giving her a small shake of his head. “Charming as ever, Leah. You’re probably going to end up cramping that finger with how much you do that.” He then sighs softly and rolls his shoulders in a small shrug. “But I mean it, y’know. I want this. Even if it does mean I have
Leah gives a big, toothy, fake smile at the sarcastic compliment. "I'm aware~" she says in response to the comment about her unending well of charm. When his comments grow more sincere, she turns her gaze back to the plate of fries, tapping her boot rhythmically against Nathan's seat. "...I know." she sighs, pushing down those lingering concerns. "I just-... this isn't really my-..." strong suit? Comfort zone? "Look, I'm not
some-... some lovestruck teenager that needs her boyfriend's reassurance constantly, okay?! It's just, with everything going on and-..." she begins to insist defensively before realizing her mouth- as per usual- was moving faster than her mind and her eyes widen slightly. "Not that I'm saying you're my boyfr-..." she sighs, seeming to get genuinely flustered and frustrated at her own inability to make sense of any of this.
"I mean, we're something but-... Oh just fuck off. You know what I'm trying to say!" she groans as if Nathan is already thinking up something snarky to respond with, scrunching up her nose briefly as she peers across the table to Nathan. It's lighthearted and, soon enough, her smile begins to shine through and she gives a small snort.
Nathan listens to her with perhaps the most bemused smile he has ever managed to muster, her flustered attempts at explaining only adding to the width of it. Even when she concludes with her very friendly ‘fuck off’, he can’t help but shake his head with a small chuckle. “I know what you’re trying to say. And I don’t mind giving you reassurances if you want them either.” He then motions to the side as
if gesturing to another point, his bemused smile turning into w shut eatint . “Soooo, boyfriend, huh?”
Leah scoffs playfully, a roll of her big green eyes accompanying it. But Nathan's lighthearted approach certainly eases a bit of the discomfort. Arms folded across her chest as she peers across the table towards him, her big, bright smile re-emerges. "You're a shit boyfriend." she teases. Regardless of whether or not the statement is accurate- in regards to both the content of the jab and the label of boyfriend itself-