The greatest enemy is the one you know best.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Acrylic crumpled easily, distorting the print out of a report that already had large sections blacked out. The sheet of flimsiplast was held onto only a moment longer before it dropped to the floor... and was instantly picked back up and smoothed out as best as it could be. The names were read over again... Lieutenant Colonel Jhoren Rask, Captain Jack Mardesh, Lieutenant Mikhail Janek... it went on. Not many names, but each one Charlotte was familiar with. All listed along with a report on a highly secretive mission that the squad had undergone. The result of the mission had been a success but at a heavy cost: The squad she had once been a part of, the one she had served with since her time joining the Alliance until the moment she had been transferred to Dorn Force, her family... was gone. And while she knew damn well they all had died while serving a cause each and every last one believed in and would have gladly given their life for the term "casualties" made it sound so undignified.

The young officer almost gently tucked the report under the pillow on the cot that took up the majority of the space of her bunk. The room was small, nothing more than a glorified storage area, fitting nothing but the makeshift bed and her footlocker, but it was about the only permanent semblance of a space of her own that she had and at least it was private. At that particular moment it was something Charles was glad for.

She felt too shaky to stand, the palm of her right hand was pushed against one eye firmly then the other, slightly laughing at the thought that Mikhail probably would have jokingly chided her for even thinking about crying. The thought of it forced her to bite her lower lip to stifle another round of tears that threatened to break through the small bit of laughter. When that ended, she was left with a grotesque numb sensation.

And then it hit her, like a punch to the jaw you'd get from some burly guy in a bar fight. If she hadn't been transferred... she would have been with them. Her name would have been on that piece of flimsi. Or worse... she would have been the one to make it back... again. The thought was almost too much, giving rise to an overall discomfort and edginess that staying place in her room just wouldn't be able to contain.

The makeshift gym the group had set up in one of the cargo areas, however... It wasn't out of her normal routine to spend an hour or so there a day, sometimes more, taking out whatever frustrations she had on the punching bag there. At that moment, despite having done so earlier that day, it sounded like a great plan. And with any luck the others would leave her the kriff alone.

That thought persisted as she entered to find the gym thankfully empty and without delay tied her hair up and began to wrap her hands in preparation for what no doubt would be quite a long bout.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

The Rebel Alliance was really missing a trick here, in terms of avertising and recruitment at least. No matter where he went, Alexander Tur'enne constantly felt his eyes dragged and drawn from one occupant to another, relishing the multitude of fine examples of sentience that the Rebellion had on display. So okay, those hideous orange flight suits weren't exactly the most flattering of outfits, and did a fantastic job of disguising the various assets that the fly-boys and fly-girls may or may not have been packing underneath, but for the most part the Alliance seemed to favour fairly tight-fitting and utilitarian attire, particularly when it came to trousers. It was probably a health and safety thing - minimise the amount of loose fabric to prevent it snagging on machinery and equipment - but he wasn't complaining.

He felt his attention wander, watching as a particularly hull-conformal set of dress slacks passed by, paying scant attention to anything above the waist except to identify that the individual was human, fair-skinned, and sported the shaven head and overly muscular physique that probably put him squarely among the ranks of Alliance SpecForce, and implied a lack of preference for intelligent conversation. His lip wrinkled a little in disappointment as he mentally filed away said soldier into the 'not my type' category of his mind, separating him from that crowd of pilots he'd passed earlier, all of whom were firmly in the 'covert observation in shower' category.

Unfortunately, as yet no one had managed to qualify for the 'intelligent conversation' category; at least, not anyone without a face that looked like the backside of a bantha. Or a fish. He briefly recalled a rather creepy and uncomfortable encounter with a Mon Calamari a few days ago in the commissary, who had regaled him with a rivetting story about some sort of amusing mix-up with administration and protocol forms; he hadn't really been paying attention, distracted instead by the way the fins beneath the yeoman's chin had wobbled as he talked. Xander wasn't a bigot by any stretch - hell, he'd sleep with pretty much anything, if it stayed still long enough - but apparently the Mon Calamari species was beyond even his broad horizons.

Them and Bothans; though in the latter case that was more because they reminded him of some sort of nightmarish vision of what might have resulted if their childhood neighbours' pet Slice Hound had done more than just humped Charles' leg.

Speaking of Charles; as the doors into the gym parted - Xander had decided that his biceps could do with a little work, so he could start wearing sleeveless shirts again - his eyes settled on his sister, making the necessary preparations to, if her expression was anything to go by, beat the crap out of some poor, defenseless, inanimate bag. Xander could tell that something wasn't right, but that was a sense of preservation, not perception: the kind of sense he'd honed as a child so that he knew when to stay out of his sisters' way. A few possible reasons leapt forward into his mind - biological factors, a bad evening with a man-friend, general stress and frustration - but nothing seemed to adequately explain the haunted look in her eyes.

A tug of remorse and sympathy struck in his chest, but he didn't allow it to gather purchase. Much as he wanted to comfort Charlotte if he could, he'd learned from painful past experience that if she was in a particular and peculiar mood, she'd see that as a sign of weakness and tear him to shreds. No; best to pretend that everything was normal, just for long enough to assess the situation. Then, if necessary, he could comfort, or console, or simply participate in a mutual bitching session about whatever jackass had put her in such a foul mood.

Dumping his bag down noisily beside her, Xander folded his arms across his chest, and shook his head with a sigh. "Black bones, sis," he chastened, eyebrows tugging into disappointed frown, "I know you aren't exactly hunting for a man right now, but you could at least have some pride in your appearence. Would it have killed you to have done something with your face this morning?"

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Whatever tension was in her shoulders increased tenfold as Xander had entered the gym. He had always been a mixed bag when it came to their relationship growing up. There had been plenty of times when they had gotten into some stupid argument that had resulted with her getting yelled at for bloodying him up. But there had been an almost equal number of times when she had confided everything in him and when it had come to having someone watch out for her, he had always been her pick. That was... until she had run off to join the Corellian resistance and the two had separated with a rather horrible argument.

After she and Glayde had tugged Xander out of the research facility someone in the higher ranks, in their infinite wisdom, had decided that Dorn needed him and so rather than getting sent off, he had stayed. Having your older brother randomly show up six years later in life was something Charlotte didn't want to get used to. Having Xander make stupid comments when every man who had ever outdone him in the roll of 'brother' had just been permanently ripped away from her almost hardened whatever ridiculous grudge she was still holding against him for not joining the rebellion when she had.

A test hit was given to the bag, purposely harder than it needed to be and knowingly taken at a wrong angle that sent a wave of pain coursing up her arm. "You know, Xander... I haven't broken your nose since I was eight. How about you not give me a reason to change that."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

"In my defense," Xander fired back, his nose offering phantom twinges of pain at the memories conjured up, "You burst into my room while I was still asleep, and started beating me in the face repeatedly."

He sighed, perching himself down beside her, a respectful half-arms reach distance between them. For a moment he sat unmoving, gaze staring off blankly into the gym; unexpectedly, a hand shot up and clapped a third-strength slap up the back of Tur'enne's head. "That's for breaking my nose," he added, casually not allowing eye contact to be established. "You need to learn to respect your elders and, since you're still a midget and I'm not anymore, I guess it's time I educated you."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

All movement came to a halt the instant his hand collided with the back of her head. If it was possible, if at all conceivable, her entire vision would have gone red. Whatever common sense the young woman had vanished without a trace and raw instinct kicked in. It was as if some primal part of her brain that she always tried to keep in check completely took over. It wasn't just rage, it was something else, it scared her and she hated it, but at that moment...

No sooner did Alex finish his sentence than she whirled around on him, her left fist aimed to carry out her threat from earlier.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander's muscles bunched, eyes wincing in preparation for the pain that usually resulted from any kind of strike aimed at him by his little sister. Much to his surprise - and to hers, it soon emerged - his limbs had somehow acted on their own, lancing out to snag Charlotte's offending fist and arrest it's cause. Xander stared at it blankly, genuinely shocked that any of the several years of martial arts training he'd gone through on the company's dime - a necessity after the demasculation of having the crap beaten out of you by your little sister for most of your childhood - had actually managed to help him.

It was during that moment of shock and awe that Charlotte's other fist connected squarely with his jaw.

"Son of a -!" Xander started, managing to catch himself mid-way before he inadvertantly insulted their mutual parentage. The force of the impact had sent him tumbling off his perch, and Charlotte's assault didn't seem to be a one-off action. Attempts to struggle to his feet failed; Alex did his best to block what shots he could, legs even managing to lash out and cut hers from under her at one point, but that only encouraged her to pin him to the ground and pummel him relentlessly: and there were only so many shots his mediocre training could keep out.

Oh, crap, Alex mused, wincing against the pain. Guess the tough love approach was a bad bet this time around.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

She wanted him to die. At the very base of whatever was running her mind, all she wanted was death, misery, to have the man pinned below her experience all the pain and anguish her brothers in arms must have in their final moments. Each blow she managed to land on him procured a yelp of pain she was oblivious to, each he managed to fight off was ignored as another fist went about colliding with his skin again. It wasn't Charles running everything anymore and she knew that and some part of her was screaming her to stop while the rest was cheering her on.

The punches stopped coming as both hands came around Alex's throat, tightening, pressing both thumbs forward, knowingly attempting to collapse and crush trachea.

And then it happened... the chain connecting the punching bag to the ceiling of the gym snapped suddenly and loudly. Her eyes darted to where the bag fell to before they blinked several times and she turned back to Xander... who was currently still attempting to pry her hands off his throat while he was taking on a horrible blue hue.

The intake of air was sharp and painful as her hands released their hold... at least as far as she was concerned, Charlotte had no idea how her brother felt but seeing him in such a state was horrible enough on its own. She would have killed him, she had wanted to, she.... The thought was shoved from her mind and Charles quickly ripped off part of the bottom of her shirt and pressed the fabric to one of the meaner wounds on her brother's face that had begun bleeding profusely.

There was no apologies that could be said to right it all, but even worse was what had happened to break it up. She glanced to the punching bag, lying in a heap on the floor. Charlotte knew her hands were shaking by that point as she looked back to Xander.

"I didn't... I didn't mean to do it... you... you can't tell anyone!"

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Alex scrambled clumsily backwards, a hand clasping at his throat as he sucked in a series of deep, struggling breaths. His eyebrows danced between surprise, and panic, and fear, shifting above eyes that were as wide as they could possibly be. His gaze shifted between the punching bag and his sister, mind racing at the possible causes of such a freakish coincidence; but right now wasn't exactly the best time to conduct a proper scientific analysis.

Breaths finally becoming easier, and the stippling effect starting to fade from the edges of his vision, Xander let his hand fall away, using it for stability as he fought the urge to collapse onto the floor. His nose was streaming, crushed awkwardly against his face; he could taste the coppery tinge of blood as it crept between his lips, and snuck down the back of his throat. Now wasn't the time to worry about it however.

He set his gaze on Charlotte, eyes ablaze with panic. "What did you do?"

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Nothing!"

Her mind was racing, stumbling over a continual "No. No no no no no no... frinking void, NO.", the guilt over having put Xander in such a state, and the constant nag mixed in of 'If you hadn't been transferred, if they weren't dead...' Self preservation kicked in, overriding it all.

"The chain must have been fatigued. Coincidence! I didn't do anything except...that." The words came out in rapid fire, but her eyes betrayed all the emotions going through her despite her desperate motioning that the only thing at fault in the room was her brother's beating.

Nervous gaze shifted back to the bag, then back to her brother, eyes lingering on the red marks on his neck that her fingers had produced.

"kriff..." The slowdown of her heartbeat let the echoing of it stop long enough in her head for a rather sickening realization to come to her. Xander, for all his faults, all that she felt he'd somehow wronged her, was her brother. Her real brother. He'd been there since day one. And with her former squad gone...well... he was all she really had left. The single person she could actually trust out of the lot of them. In the field, on assignment... that was one thing. But when the skrag really hit the fan?

The answer to everything was plain, simple...

Whatever gap between the siblings that had been caused when Alex had moved away from her was suddenly closed as Charlotte quickly wrapped her arms around Alexander's midsection and pushed her forehead against his chest. "It's all my karking fault."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Awkward was the first adjective that sprung to mind, but in an instant all thoughts disappeared from his mind. A little sorely, he wrapped an arm around her, positioning his chin to rest on her head carefully, so as not to inadvertantly recolour her hair with the blood leaking from her nose. Managing to shift his balance enough to add in the other arm, he wrapped that around her as well, delicately squeezing the embrace around the figure that huddled against him a little tighter.

He didn't ask questions; that was always a bad idea anyway, and Charlotte was hardly in any state to answer them. For anything to make sense - and for him to be able to offer advice that would be of any help at all - she'd need to be thinking straight. No way that was gonna happen any time soon.

Finally, when he felt a little of the tension in her shoulders relax within his arm, he liberated a hand to gingerly probe his damaged nose. "It's a good job I don't have a date later," he offered, a mock-bitter tone lacing the words under his breath. "Feels like you messed up my face pretty good."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"You know you missed it." A comment that normally would have had a playful edge to it came out sounding dull and strangely hollow.

The flare of complete unbridled rage and its aftermath had sapped Charlotte of whatever will to continue to fight against her sibling. For all the years they had been apart, it was all too easy to go back to a routine that had characterized their childhood...screaming, fighting, then talking like none of it had even happened.

"Something's wrong with me, Xander. I keep living... and they keep dying. And weird shit keeps happening around me. And I hate everyone..." It wasn't a coherent though, maybe, but it came out anyway in it's half-mumbled deliverance.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

"So, what's new about that?" Alex offered with the faintest of shrugs. He winced a little and hesitated before adding: "Well, aside from the dying part. That was pretty much just the pet fish back home." A faint smile graced his features. "You always were an emo little hellhound, who got mixed up in 'weird shit', as you so elloquently described it."

He sighed, refusing to relinquish his hold on his sister, pulling her in a little tighter instead. "This time it really got to you, didn't it?" He offered the gentlest of kisses, planted atop her forehead. He'd never seen her like this; so emotionally crushed by an experience. She'd always been fearless, and while granted that was usually because she was too busy scaring the living crap out of everyone around her to actually experience the emotion herself, she'd always seemed impervious: things bounced off her like she was indestructable.

Something had changed, he realised. Something had broken his baby sister. And, to his sadness, he realised that he'd probably never know what that was. Revealing secrets like that took trust and, while there was a baseline trust that you recieved by default as a relative, they'd been apart for so long that it was all he had to rely on.

He breathed out another gentle sigh, and drew back, his deep, dark eyes seeking out Charlotte's, a finger momentarily wiping away a track of tears that had made a bid for freedom down her cheek. "I don't know what happened to you, sis. I don't know where this extra blackness you're carrying around in here -" He tapped her chest for emphasis. "- came from; and I know you'll probably never tell me. But it doesn't matter."

His eyes shimmered, as he struggled to keep her gaze squared with his. "You didn't do this, Charlie. You didn't make this happen. It isn't your fault; none of it is." His arms wrapped around her; pulled her close again. "None of it is," he echoed.

A pause. "Well, except for my face." A smile crept onto his lips again as his words took on a slight teasing lilt. "That pretty much was your fault. So if this whole emotional breakdown thing is because of messing up my pretty face... then I guess that's okay."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Alex always did have the right things to say. Even the silly fish thing he had mentioned... she had been four, him a few days before his tenth birthday, and she remembered sitting staring into the small glass bowl with the little multicolored fish she had named "Brutus", it was belly up and somehow to her it was the worst thing that had happened in her short life up to that point. But Xander had been there and whatever he had said had made that okay... And while his words hadn't quite pieced together everything this time around, it did help. Enough that she could let a small laugh pass at his final comment.

"Just wanted to give you a chance to visit our fabulous med bay. One of the medics is kinda cute, figured you wouldn't mind the view." She still was lacking in the characteristic bite that most things left her with and it was followed by a deep breath that was far too shaky for her own liking, but at least the comment let Charles feel more like herself and less like the pitiful excuse for a soldier she knew she was coming across as.

No, Xander wasn't going to get the whole story out of her, no one would as far as she was concerned. The entirety of how it was she came to be a part of her previous squad had managed to be classified by their CO, respectfully never discussed, and as far as Charles was concerned it could all be buried right along with them. But she felt that she owed at least some sort of explanation, Alex did seem like he honestly cared enough he wouldn't mock her for it.

"I found out a lot of people died..." A pause had to be taken and a deep breath was drawn once more. "I know it's war and this kind of thing happens... but these guys... they were..."

To anyone else the term wouldn't have hesitated, but it almost seemed insulting to the one who was there for her now. "They taught me everything. Worked with them all for four years. They took up where you left off, I guess... watched my back, kept me out of too much trouble, fixed anything that went wrong."

She had to stop herself and breathe again, it was almost like she had forgotten how to as she spoke, arms still wrapped tightly around Xander. "And now I'll never see them again."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Though Charlotte had never uttered the specific words, Alexander was smart enough to fill in the blanks, and interpret her unspoken meaning for himself. His arms squeezed around her a little tighter. "It's always tough when you lose family," he consoled softly.

The notion hung in the air for a moment, a twinge of awkwardness dancing around in Xander's chest. Charlotte and he had grown up together, raised as siblings. Xander had even been there first, adopted when their mutual 'parents' had thought they wouldn't ever be able to concieve. When Charlotte had come along, it had been a miracle; but to their credit, they'd never treated Alex any differently. He was still their son, and they loved both of their children equally.

Even so: ever since Alexander was old enough to understand what adoption asked - old enough to ask questions about why there were no holostills of him and his mother in the hospital like there were for Charlotte, among other things - his concept of family had been skewed. There wasn't a bond of blood between him and his sister; him and his parents; but even so, he felt for them as if there was. He would go to the ends of the universe for them if he had to, even if Charles would probably snap off his arm in lieu of thanks. If anyone understood how those bonds of family could be formed with others, it was Alex.

Speaking of bonds; an ache struck up in Alex's chest as he thought about her. Thoughts threatened to cascade through the carefully errected barriers in his mind; rather than race to reinforce them, he unleashed a gentle sigh. Blinking back tears that threatened to form, he asked softly: "Did I ever tell you about Laura?"

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Somehow Charles knew he'd get what she fully meant, a few years apart couldn't change or take back the multitude of conversations they both had with each other... specifically in their teenage years when most problems they related to one another typically had to do with their parents irking them in one way or another or some date had gone awry. Stupid kids having stupid gripe sessions while leaving out stupid key details because they were too embarrassed to actually say them so the other had to decipher what exactly happened. Charles couldn't remember the last time she had actually thought about those times, or any other times with her sibling, really.

"Laura? Miss 'She's my world, I think I'm in love, can do no wrong even though she's dumb as a slork and probably bred from one' Laura from freshman year of college?" For the first time since she'd walked into the gym that day a small smirk came to her lips but just as quickly it faded. Alex bringing up his college girlfriend when she had just relayed about her own loss probably meant something dreadful had happened and Charles couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at the mocking.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

The thin line of a smile that Alex responded with was bittersweet; merely a token gesture, really. "Yeah, that's her."

He frowned. "And she was my world. My day; my night; meant everything to me." As he spoke, his voice trembled a little at the memory, all of the emotions that had come as naturally to him as breathing back then boiling back to the surface, not an iota less intense than they had been all those years ago. The joy and elation at the mere thought that she existed smashed against the crushing sorrow of what had happened next.

"Turns out I was right," he continued, "And wrong. I was in love; but she wasn't the innocent, ever-right angel that I always made her out to be." He laughed a little at the irony, staring blankly into space, not even bothering to fight against the fledgeling tears now shimmering in his eyes. "You know how she was a couple of years younger than me, and I was always petrified that she'd meet someone better at college, and wind up leaving me?" He winced, lip trembling slightly; his muscles slumped, whole frame seeming to slouch. "In the end, she did. Some guy closer to her age. Just... left me, out of the blue. Left me holding the keys to the appartment we'd just bought -" His voice hesitated for a moment, a sniff of breath sucked in through his throat. "- and the ring I'd spent every credit I had buying for her."

He laughed, bitterly. "You'd be surprised how quick something like that cleans out your bank balance; took the residential job with Frohad Galactic just to have a roof over my head, and food in me." He sighed, grimacing at how his words might have sounded. "I'm not making excuses. I just -"

He shifted, a hand taking gentle hold either side of Charlotte's face, aiming her eyes to meet with his. "I've lost people that I love too, and I know how it can shatter your life. I know how it can change you. I haven't, uh -" He stammered, tripping over the phrasing a little. "- loved a woman in quite some time." Years in fact.

He winced at the clumsy half-truth he'd provided there, but pushed past it. "I know I haven't exactly been the best brother in the galaxy, but I -" He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm here if you need to talk. I'll always be here for you." He offered a faint smile. "Always."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

His last remark wasn't a loss to her, and the simple fact she wasn't recoiling away from him probably conveyed that more than anything Charlotte could think to say might have. The last thing she wanted to do was mock her brother in that moment, but it was like a reflex, some strange method of protecting herself that Charles had learned rather quickly when it came to protecting herself against Xander's often biting comments. Sure they always came as retaliation for her own methods of diplomacy... but still.

"Appreciate you confiding in me, bro...but I find that whole... not loving women thing hard to believe... you used to chase tail like a mad man. Ever since you hit puberty I don't think a weekend went by you weren't telling me to stay the hell out of your room because you had some girl over..."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

A soft chuckle escaped from his lips; relief liberated one of the plethora of emotional weights suspended from his shoulders. Though it wasn't exactly a secret - hell, pretty much everyone in all the decent bars on Coronet knew who he was, and whether or not they should shuffle awkwardly away when he siddled up beside them in a bar - it was something that his sister didn't know and, well: as she'd said yourself, it represented a pretty major change in his life.

Pretty Major... Thoughts strayed to Glayde, who unfortunately was no longer floating barely clothed in a bacta tank in the med lab. Words couldn't express Xander's disappointment at that; he had rather enjoyed the free show, but unfortunately without Glayde's presence, the scenery was somewhat uninspiring. Though the Alliance had achieved lots since their conception, they clearly hadn't managed to find a recruiting campaign that was effective with the 'cute male nurse' demographic.

Dragging his thoughts kicking and screaming back to the sombre surroundings of the gym, Alex offered a nervous smile. "I still chase tail, sis; it's just that the tail I go for now is a little, ah -" He blushed, realising that his hands were starting to make an attempt at miming. "- tangeable? And front-mounted."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Huh..." While it hadn't been entirely unexpected, for some reason she wasn't profoundly surprised either. Though she did find herself somewhat pained to know that her brother's preference, or realization of, had come at the cost of someone causing a great deal of pain to him. It was for Laura's benefit that Charles had been away fighting Imperials in the smaller cities that dared defy them all... otherwise the woman would have probably ended up suffering from a 'mysterious accident' that would have broken every pretty little bone in her face.

Charles' shoulders shrugged before she settled back against Xander. "Guess I can stop my plotting to turn every female officer against you."

It felt good to joke again, to try and drag her thoughts away from whatever wrong she felt she had suffered. Only Onashi had been willing to have any sort of back and forth banter with her and that generally consisted of her shamelessly flirting with him one moment only to act entirely disinterested the next and that just wouldn't have managed to cover up the pit in her stomach this time.

[Alexander Tur'enne]

"You can do whatever you want with the female officers," he muttered back, "Just as long as it keeps them distracted, and leaves the male ones free for me."

Xander offered a friendly poke into Charlotte's ribs, illiciting the same squirm that it had done ever since she was about three. It was a reflex more than anything; no way his the badass commando sister lacked the self control to still be ticklish anymore. Just one of those things, like reaching for the wrong side for the controls when you get in a different elevator to normal; ducking in all the right places in a house you hadn't been in for ten years; muscle memory. Reflex. Tradition.

He sighed, releasing one of his arms to prop himself up as he leaned backwards slightly. "So, what about you. You seeing anyone?" He flashed a mischevious glance in her direction. "That Major of yours seems pretty cute..."