The cold bite of the air does little to compliment the tense walk back to Oxaris' apartment. She has remained quiet the entirety of the shot walk there, deflecting any potential questions with soft glances or dismissive gestures of her hand. Eventually, the pair would reach a small apartment building, barely three stories in height and bordering on the cusp of being classified as run-down or derelict. There is no reception or
#Oxaris'Apartment – September 16, 2020
lobby. It is merely a somewhat functioning keypad that occasionally requires a good thump on the side to turn on. The doors slide open and Oxaris would lead Zaylus up the staircase, all the way to the top floor. They're met with a short hallway with four doors, two on either side. She leads him to the furthest one on the right, where she scans her omni-tool against the door and it beeps in confirmation. Inside is what can only be
described as a spartan apartment. A small living room and joint kitchen that bares only the necessities. Couch, two person dining table with only a single chair, the usual kitchen appliances and a small TV that looks broken. There is only one other door in the apartment that is immediately to the left as the pair enter, likely leading to the bedroom and en-suite.
Zaylus abides the silence as long as Oxaris wishes, only ocassionally clicking his talons together, the soft tapping mingling with the sound of their footfalls in the stairwell and beyond. He waits until the door has been shut behind them before releasing a soft sigh and relaxing his shoulders, wandering to one wall before raising a hand behind his neck. "How much trouble are you
Oxaris takes a few steps into her apartment, hand absently reaching down to where she was wounded. A faint grimace is seen before she turns to look at the young turian. She doesn't say anything at first, instead watching him with a silent intensity to her ice blue eyes. Eventually, she releases a small sigh. "A fair bit," she admits quietly. "Trouble I would've preferred to keep to myself." She looks down to her
stomach, talons resting upon it and her mandibles twitch. "But... circumstances dictated otherwise."
Zaylus watches, sympathetically at first as she reaches for her scars, but the intensity in her gaze causes his to harden somewhat. "You don't make a death-locked message if you're trying to keep something to yourself." He points out in a low gravel tone. "Had you not survived, this would've become my business. So what is this all about?" He questions, the friendly hospital visitor
Oxaris looks up to him for a silent moment before she exhales sharply. Instead of answering, she walks around the kitchen counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. She opens up a drawer and pulls out a datapad, tapping a code into the keypad. With a thunk, she shuts the drawer and walks back to Zaylus, holding it out to him. Should he take it, he would be met with a document on screen. The digital
equivalent of a wanted poster, but one that clearly wasn't for public eyes. And at the middle of the screen is an image of Oxaris. The details that follows seems to be a dossier of some type, detailing Oxaris' combat skills, personality traits, service record and so on and so forth. But above all else, stands the reason for the document. 'Treason. Kill or Capture.'
Zaylus takes the datapad, holding her gaze a moment longer before skimming the contents. At the last line he shows his teeth in a grin of shock, a short airy laugh escaping him before his expression becomes flat again. "Well." He breathes, eyes fixed down as he rereads the highlights a few times. "That... explains a few things." He murmurs with an absent nod, gently sliding the
datapad onto the kitchen counter. "Not exactly what I was expecting, though... Spirits, Ox. That's some serious shit."
watches him in silence as he reads, his reaction barely shifting her expression. "It is," she agrees. "It's also a load of shit." She practically spits out that sentence, her eyes narrowing at the datapad cast upon the counter. "I was framed. I discovered something I should not have and instead of turning a blind eye to it, I tried to do the right thing." She frowns and leans against the counter, propping up her head with her
Zaylus perks at her assertion of innocence, casting another glance at the datapad as she elaborates. He hesitates to answer, resting both hands on the countertop, slowly leaning weight into the healing arm as he keeps his gaze low. "You were." He agrees with a shallow, solemn nod. "How long has this been..." He trails, pointing to the datapad before quickly switching the question.
"Has it been circulated? I mean, has anyone tried to... collect?" He asks, curling the open hand nervously.
Oxaris simply nods in agreement. She was naive to believe it were so easy. To believe that it didn't run so deep. "A year," she says, answering his first unfinished question. "And no, it hasn't gone beyond Spec Ops. It's an internal issue as far as they're concerned." She shrugs, casting a glance his way. "That's the offical view point, anyway. The reality is they don't want any investigations prying too deep into
their business." She lowers her hand, setting it down on the counter as she looks away to an empty spot in the kitchen. "Otherwise they might find something similar to that file I sent you."
Zaylus nods along, satisfied that this listing wasn't in the hands of every terminus bounty hunter. But the relief doesn't last long, and he stares at Oxaris for several long moments as the pieces click together. "Fuuuck." He breathes, slouching forward onto the counter as his hand covers his face. "You've got to be kidding me, Oxaris. Why?" He groans, mandibles pulling into a
grimace. "Just-what-why?" He sputters, wagering he's understood her unspoken expectations of him clearly.
Oxaris sighs softly. "Because I was out at options. At least at the time." She pushes away from the counter and steps more into the center of the living room, folding her arms across her midsection. "But I lived. Halisi and her team saved my life and now there's no reason for you to continue being involved. You can send the file back to me and just... carry on with your life." She glances over her shoulder at him, her
Zaylus spies her walking off through his fingers, turning and lifting himself up with a huff to face her, leaning back into the counter. "I just... I don't know what you thought would happen." He says grimly, almost apologetic. "If you couldn't get the right people to listen, then I certainly couldn't, what, bring justice?" He presses, still in disbelief. "I'm just some terminus
dengerate who walked out of basic training. I could never get the truth out of them." He looks past her, shameful. "I just... can't help you. I'm sorry."
Oxaris now turns fully to face him, her brow furrowing for a moment. She watches him in silence, her mind conflicted between two approaches. Part of her wants to draw from her NCO days, the other wishes to assure him. Instead, she exhales and shakes her head. "There were instructions," she says. "Not for you, admittedly, but... you could've done it. Whilst it was unfair of me to put that pressure on you, you're also
doing yourself an injustice." She gestures to him. "You've survived extreme circumstances that I can honestly say very few within Spec Ops could. If you applied yourself, Zaylus, you could accomplish great things." However, she lowers the hand back to her midsection and shrugs her shoulders. "Don't take this as me trying to talk you into my crusade, I'm not expecting that. You need to believe me when I say that
Zaylus rolls his head loosely, gently tilting as though trying to work out a kink in his neck. He doesn't exactly aknowledge her praises, but cracks a small toothy grin as he replies. "Well, I'm involved. What's done is done. And Spirits, I think you're my friend, so I will help if I can." He pauses, sighly lightly as he considers something, one hand tapping rythmically on the
countertop. "So tell me this though. If you had instructions, that means you've got some idea of a plan, right? One I couldn't know unless you were already dead."
blinks in surprise for a moment. She honestly did not expect that. Her surprise gives way to a hardened glare and she takes a step forwards, arms falling to instead be placed on her waist. "Zaylus, no, I'm giving you an out. You just said you couldn't help and now you want to stay involved?!"
Zaylus opens his mouth in a wider grin as a short laugh escapes him, looking up at Oxaris from a slouched position. "I thought you wanted me to come up with a plan, so I got nervous." He admits, deflecting her suddenly intense mood with deferent humor. "But if all you need is a little help sticking it to those fuckers? All you had to do was say so."
Oxaris doesn't seem particularly subdued by his reassurance. In fact, it just seems to incense her a little bit more. "Zaylus, these people are dangerous! This is Special Forces we're talking about here. Members of Black Ops, 26th Armiger specialists and even Spectre candidates." She sighs in exasperation and palms her face. "This- this is not what I meant by applying yourself."
Zaylus perks a little, somewhat amused by how flustered she's become, despite the grim circumstances. He's either too ignorant to be properly concerned or too stubborn to admit it, because he just shrugs lightly and further relaxes his posture against the countertop. "I don't care. I'm not gonna just forget about it now. I said we're friends, and if there's something I can do to
Oxaris has to mentally will herself not to stare slack-jawed at him. For a moment she looks as if she's about to argue more, about to try every outlet to reason with him. To stop him from committing to this likely suicide mission of hers. Instead, she just sighs once again and pinches the bridge of her nose. "...I should just break your legs, but I get the feeling you'd just follow me in a wheelchair," she mutters in
resignation. "Are you really going to commit to this? Because if you are, there is no more outs. There is no walking away. If they realise you're involved, they will kill you."
Zaylus jokingly winces at the mention of leg breaking, straightening up on his feet and taking a step in, coming to arm's length of her. "I said I'm in. Blame yourself for sending me the evidence, if you like. You chose your backup, now quit trying to talk me out of it." He retorts without hesitation, the look in his slightly drooping eyes revealing little.
Oxaris stares hard at him for a few, pregnant moments, as if assessing every little piece of him. After a tense minute, she relaxes a modicum and reaches up to flick him square between the eyes. "Fine. But this doesn't leave between us, got it? I'm not going to drag Redrock into this."