Musical Chairs

[Carré Inirial]

A bit of warmth flushed her cheeks as she glanced up, and suddenly realized that she hadn't murmured as quietly as she thought. Fingers rose to toy with the paper wrapper of the sandwich in front of her, smoothing it out and neatly folding it in lieu of a plate. Plucking a napkin from the pile, she placed it across her lap and reached for her tea when Adonis finally spoke once more.

The breath felt like it simply slipped right out of her. Emerald eyes blinked sightlessly until Adonis' face came back into a wavering focus. Her gaze misted over a bit but she ignored it and managed to utter a breathless "What?" in response. A simple word, fraught with far more emotion than she would normally have allowed herself to display.

"Why?" she added a moment later, appetite suddenly gone as she instead stared down at the hands laying in her lap.

It wasn't Carré's most eloquent moment, but newly-pregnant and desk-bound overrode normal protocol in every way, shape and form. It felt like everyone was slipping away, as the Alliance redistributed it's people to best serve it's new structure. Which, she understood on some deep level. She just hadn't managed to bring reason and thought to the forefront as of late.

[Adonis Inirial]

Because orders are orders.

That was the answer that most readily came to mind, and for Adonis it was entirely sufficient. It was part and parcel of the contract you made when you put on the uniform: bed, board, and other benefits in exchange for a little bravery and obedience. But Carré wasn't the same. Not disobedient per se, she was just the sort of person who had questions; the sort who expected reasons. Adonis wasn't devoid of that; but in his line of work, he'd learned that reasons were seldom given directly, and you often had to discover or otherwise determine them for yourself. Truth be told, that Admiral Tyree had gone to the lengths of explaining as much as he did was something of a rare blessing: usually Alliance Intel instructed him to jump, and he didn't find out how high until he got there.

He let out a small sigh, shifting far enough into the room to perch on the corner of Carré's desk. He knew that she would remain standing as long as he did, and keeping a pregnant woman on her feet hardly seemed like a smart plan.

"Uncle Vansen needs me," he began. He almost didn't mention the Admiral by name; almost tried to shield the man from any reprisals that the emotionally volatile Alderaanian baby carrier before him might wish to inflict. But it was important. That one name, and all the baggage that went along with it, reinforced just how vital his obedience was in this case. Vansen Tyree would not have ordered him across the galaxy on a whim; he wouldn't have dragged one Inirial away from the other unless he felt there was little other choice. "There's some unrest along the border, and, well -"

Adonis trailed off, and managed a smile. "He's a little short on eyes lately, so he needs me to keep mine on the situation. It's nothing dangerous, nothing risky. It's just -"

Another fade into silence. Another pause.

"- far."

[Carré Inirial]

"Oh."

She frowned slightly, sitting abruptly and rather heavily in her chair. She reached over absently to pat Adonis' knee and gave a faint sigh.

"Well...I...can't promise I won't yell at him at some point over it, but I understand. If he needs you, then its important and he needs to know he can implicitly trust whomever he's sending. Just wish...it wasn't so far." Carré added, blinking as she stared down at her hands that had come to rest over her abdomen once more.

Casting her emerald gaze up at his dark eyes, she did her level best to find some semblance of a smile. It wasn't working, but she was trying. "When do you leave?"

[Adonis Inirial]

"Soon."

His brow tugged into a frown, sadness tugging down on the edges. "They gave me a ship for this assignment. I'm taking over from Soto Terius aboard the Destiny. There's still a few reassignments to be taken care of, and they're transferring across supplies meant for the outpost where I'll be based, to save a freighter from needing to make the trip - but yeah. It'll be soon. I need to report aboard and assume command before the end of the day, and we'll probably be in hyperspace by first thing tomorrow."

He fell silent. Adonis was not an expert on taking, but he seldom struggled either. Usually, he knew exactly what to say because he had considered every eventuality in advance, but this? This wasn't an intelligence briefing, or a meeting with a Senator or an Admiral where he could predict every question and have a response prepared. This wasn't an interview or interrogation where he knew exactly what the subject would say, provided he could motivate them into it. This wasn't his familiar terrain. This wasn't clinical or detached. This was Carré, and Adonis found himself utterly at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry, Rey."

It seemed to feeble, so insufficient. After all their years apart, all their differences and distance, both had vowed to be closer, to make the most of the family they had left. To his credit, Adonis had really tried. The effort perhaps wasn't as spontaneous as it should have been - being there for you and blocking off swathes of his work schedule to spend time with his sister weren't quite the same thing, but it was the best he was capable of. Carving out 47 minutes in the middle of his schedule, coordinated with when Carré seemed most likely to leave her office for lunch, so that he could "accidentally" meet her in the corridor and invite her to a spontaneous lunch; calling in favours to nudge around meetings so that he could pretend he was grudgingly forced to stay overnight, or frustratingly found himself with a patch of dead time in the middle of his day so that he could enlist his sister's aid in staving off his boredom. It wasn't how it was supposed to work, but it was the closest approximation that he was capable of.

Now though? All that effort undermined because the job had other ideas, and the Alliance had other needs of him.

"I really wanted to be here for you," he offered, with far more tiredness and less confidence in his voice than usual. His eyes didn't manage to meet with hers, settling on her abdomen. "And be here when -"

[Carré Inirial]

She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, clouding her emerald gaze with the weight of duty versus the need of family. Carré knew that feeling all too well, remembering the years she'd spent at Carida and the familial milestones she'd been forced to miss. Then, she'd consoled herself with the fact that she was following the family tradition and that she could make up for it afterwards. Except, there had been no afterwards, and she'd spent a very long time thinking she was the only one left.

But she wasn't, anymore, and they had both done their level best to maintain their relationship and improve on it where and when they could. This was a milestone she was already terrified of, and had wanted him there to share it with her. Carré took a deep breath and dropped her gaze to her hands, pressing them gently against her abdomen before lifting one up to wipe at the stray tears that eluded her efforts at containment.

She found a faint smile but didn't look up as she shook her head. "It's alright, Donny...I'll just...inundate you with messages and updates on his progress. And really, given how crazy I'm sure I'll drive Kelly, you probably don't really want to be subjected to that. I mean, I'm kinda cranky on a good day, right?"

Swallowing hard, she reached for the tissues she kept nearby, plucking a few from the box to wipe at her eyes. "But I'll miss you." she whispered after a moment, blinking, and wiping at her eyes a bit more intently.

[Adonis Inirial]

There was no thought, no contemplation, only impulse as Adonis stepped forward and bundled his sister in his arms. It wasn't an entirely benevolent action: the sight of her with tears in her eyes was agonizing and the sooner he could avoid seeing it the better; but he squeezed her just the same, marveling at the fact that no matter of old they became, an embrace like this felt no different from any other time he'd squidged his baby sister in his arms.

"Are you kidding?" he counted quietly, fumbling for anything to say that made the slightest bit of difference. "I'm an intelligence officer. I've pretty much been one since I was too years old. Knowing things isn't just my job, it's a need, so if you think that a day is going to go past where there won't be a holoprojection of me in your office, prying for every tiny detail about how you're doing, calling in every favour I can to get your obscure cravings shipped to you from half way across the galaxy, asking every question I can think of about how he... he -"

Adonis stopped, as the pronoun caught on his tongue. It was the one that Carré had used, and so he had instinctively followed suit, but -

He drew away, not enough to free his sister from his arms, but enough to peer down at her and find her eyes. "He?" he echoed. His own gaze began to shimmer as the gravity of that situation began to settle in. It wouldn't have made the damnedest bit of difference, he would still have adored and doted upon the little tyke just the same if it had been a daughter nestled down there in his sister's abdomen, but a son? A new generation of the Inirial family, a new eldest son to carry the name beyond the span of Adonis' life, a new heir to whom Adonis was not merely an uncle, but also his predecessor as head of the household? There was gravity to that, and as misplaced and gender-biased as it might be, Adonis felt it just the same.

"I'm going to have a nephew?"

[Carré Inirial]

There was a tightness of emotion centered in her chest, an ache for things long gone as Adonis simply gathered her up into his arms. She burrowed into his chest and had flashbacks of being a little girl finding solace in her big brother's embrace. It was a sense of comfort and safety...of family...that she had been wanting since she'd gotten the news of her pregnancy. Not that Kelly wasn't enough of those things, because he truly was, but there was something to be said for the comfort of a sibling.

"He." Carré nodded, warmth and pleasure lighting her features as she gazed up at Adonis, her mood lightening and the ache in her chest slowly dissipating.

""You are...Tadel Anpher Inirial-Perris." she freed one hand and pressed it against her abdomen as she pulled back a bit. "Named after Kelly's father as well as ours. I couldn't see not giving him our surname as well...in fact, I'm hyphenating mine when the time comes. I just...couldn't let that go. Not after everything."

[Adonis Inirial]

After everything.

She said it as if it were some complex list, some indescribable cacophony of misfortune that couldn't be put into words. In truth, it only required one: loss. Loss of home. Loss of family. Loss of history. Loss of hope. Everything that they had ever been, and everything that they were supposed to be, now existed as atoms swirling around amongst the asteroid remains of Alderaan. Every ancestor's buried bones, every antique and heirloom displayed so proudly in House Inirial, every story and hologram chronicled in the family archives; all lost, all gone. The Noble Houses of Alderaan were more than just bricks and mortar: they were traditions, memories, lessons, an ongoing future built on top of everything that had come before. For House Inirial, that noble past lived on only in Adonis and Carré; and it was Adonis' duty as patriarch to ensure that it lived on beyond.

Tadel. He took a step forward, gently resting his hand atop Carré's, a faint and sad smile gracing his lips. "It will be Lord Inirial-Perris one day," he said softly, before abandoning his gesture of contact and pulling his sister into his arms again. "And I promise, no matter what happens or where the Alliance sends me, I will always be here to teach him what that means."

[Carré Inirial]

She gave up on the pretense of keeping it together in any semblance of proper manner. Carré flung her arms around Adonis and held onto him tightly, face pressed against his shoulder the way it always had been when she'd been a child. A soft sigh emerged from her lips as she tilted her head back enough to look up.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." she said quietly, blinking back a fresh set of tears and freeing herself enough to reach for a tissue. Rather, a few tissues. This was proving to be more than she could manage to deal with and still remain tear-free.

"Gods, look at me, I'm a wreck. I'll be useless for the rest of the day..." she fussed with the tissues and then her uniform in turn as the siblings eventually pulled apart. Glancing up at the chrono on the wall of her office she sighed faintly after her voice had trailed off.

Reaching up, she kissed his cheek and carefully smoothed out the lapel of his uniform. "...Donny, I don't think I'm going to be able to eat anytime soon. And you...you should probably get going before Uncle Vansen finds something else for you to be doing. I love you...and I'll miss you. Be safe, please."

[Adonis Inirial]

Get going.

Even knowing the reasons and the context, those words still stung. They weren't intended to, weren't meant to be anything but understanding and supportive; even so, Carré's surrender and resignation just wasn't even close to what he had expected. There had been a glimmer of tears, true enough, but the understanding had come without the outrage. There was no challenge, no protest, just quiet acceptance of a truth that Carré accepted because she knew she couldn't change it. It was the way he would have expected himself to react, but not little Rey. Not his emotional little sister who wore her heart on his sleeve. Perhaps the Alliance, the war, the loss, the baby, or some other factor had changed her, changed the woman that she had become. Perhaps she was just hiding it for his sake.

He nodded slowly; there really wasn't anything to do but follow her gently issued orders. "Just because I have gone," he said quietly, placing a gentle kiss against his baby sister's forehead, trying his utmost to ensure that his last words in person to her - for a little while, at least - were words worth remembering. "Don't ever forget that I will always be here."

A struggled smile, a gentle squeeze of her hand as he drew away, and without another word he paced backwards towards the door, his eyes lingering on his sister until the very last moment before he wrenched them away and disappeared into the corridor.

[Oisin Ocasta]

* * *

"Is that all of it?"

Oisin couldn't think of a time when he'd wished harder that the answer would be no. Anything, to buy himself a few more minutes before needing to say goodbye, before watching them disappear through the airlock, before having to stop the weirdly pleasant way that carrying Brianne for fifteen straight minutes had made his arm begin to ache. It was stupid, really: Chrys was just a friend, and he was just a guy who had been making use of all the downtime he'd had since the war ended to help out with a little babysitting here and there. But since Alderaan, those little things had meant more; they'd expanded to fill the void that all that loss had left behind. In the last few years, the Challenger, Rogue Squadron, and the Atreides ladies had become his home. But the war was over. The Challenger was stuck in orbit. The Rogues were all dispersing, some gone on principle; others promoted out of the cockpit to places where they were more valuable.

And now his girls were about to leave; a few hours time, and they'd be half a galaxy away.

It was the smart call, Oisin knew that. During the height of the Rebellion, in amongst the Galactic Civil War, times had been desperate. You took whatever help you could get, and you made whatever accommodations you needed to. Rogue Squadron and the Challenger needed a mechanic with the skills Chrys had, and so they accommodated her adorable little snot machines being aboard. That was Rebellion life. This was the Alliance of Free Planets though, and now suddenly it wasn't appropriate to have family aboard a warship - even if there was no actual war for said warship to fight. Jovan Station was the best assignment that Chrys could get: somewhere she could still get her hands dirty, still get up to her elbows in the guts of starships and starfighters, but where her children were a little more welcome than they now were here.

To his credit, Admiral Tyree had fought the ruling tooth and nail, but Alliance Personnel was insistent; so here they were. At least he'd managed to snag an extra hour or so, helping to unload the Atreides from the freighter they were supposed to be on to some swanky starship that was apparently making the run to Jovan Station instead. At least they were riding out there in style.

"You need me to do anythin' else?"

[Chrys Atreides]

"That's...everything."

She said softly, blinking as she forced herself to concentrate on the list flickering up at her from the datapad in her hand. There was only a few crates of personal belongings, packed neatly and with all the efficiency Chrys had been able to muster in the last few days. Admiral Tyree had done everything in his power to keep her where she was, where her girls were comfortable and where she was needed with her mechanical skills. It had become a home more than any other, and the only one the twins had known, considering how little they could recall Lorrd. It was a blessing in that respect, really.

As a Chief Mechanic in the Alliance hierarchy, she understood the move. There were things that were simply accepted while in war-time that were not otherwise to be tolerated. But as a mother, it tore at her heart to have to uproot her children from the only place they'd been happy. From the people they'd come to love and depend upon.

Chrys finally gave up checking the list and switched the datapad off before dropping it into the open bag at her feet, fingers absently smoothing out her sweater. Emma clung to her leg, her lower lip quivering as she stared up at Brianne, who was quietly ensconced in her very favorite place, tiny face buried in Oisin's shoulder. Her fingers rested on Emma's mussed curls, murmuring softly to her for a moment before she took a deep breath and glanced up.

Clouded blue eyes searched Oisin's features, her own fraught with a myriad of unnamed thoughts and emotions. She found a smile, though, lips curling softly upwards. She wanted to ask him to come with them, but even lightly said those words held a deeper meaning than she was ready to admit just then. She gently shook her head and shifted forward, gently reaching out to take a very unwilling Brianne from his arms, even as Emma flung herself forward and latched onto his legs instead of her mother's.

"I can't think of anything else..." she replied a moment later, blinking as her voice trailed off, unable to even crack the familiar joke of his forgetting the small child repellent again. "...but you have to promise to come visit as soon as you can. The little monsters won't be happy until you do."

...and neither will I.

[Oisin Ocasta]

Oisin had met people with all manner of limbs missing, replaced with prosthetics and what-not, but he was willing to bet all that hurt less than the feeling of Brianne being lifted out of his arms. Emma's mynock latch onto his legs made it worse somehow.

His mind chastised him for getting so sentimental. Sure, he wasn't exactly the most macho of guys. There were movies he could only watch when he was alone. Music he had to strategically frown during to stop his eyes from watering. He was the kind of guy you did more harm to with a few careless words than with a fist. Wouldn't have been the first time he'd ascribed some extra significance to something, and let it get the best of him. But this was a whole new tier of ridiculous in that regard. Here he was loading a friend and her kids onto a ship; and yet inside it felt as if his family was being torn away.

Aren't they, though?

He supposed they were in a way - the closest thing he had to one, at least. He'd wandered around the Challenger with bodily fluids from two of the three ladies on his flight suit before now. Not the fun kind, granted; but the kind that you didn't get exposed to when stuff didn't matter. He'd been there for some of their firsts. He'd shared experiences with them that no one ever had. He'd spent nights curled up on the floor in their room, ready to protect them from whatever was causing the rattling noise in the air vents. He was their friend, as much as an adult could be to a child; and they said that friends were just the family you choose for yourself; so was it really a step too far to think of them that way?

I'm losing my family. Again.

"First chance I get," he promised, keeping his eyes aimed down to avoid Chrys seeing anything she wasn't supposed to.

Emma provided a useful distraction on that regard. Carefully he liberated himself enough to drop into a crouch, bringing himself as close to the young girl's eye level as he could manage. "I need you to do somethin' for me," he said quietly, nudging the crook of his finger against Emma's grumpily frowning face. "I'm gonna need you to look after your mommy and your sister for me, okay? And I'm gonna need status reports. You're gonna have to comm me every few days to let me know that everything is okay. Think you can do that for me?"

[Chrys Atreides]

It was happening too fast, this last hour. Lifter droids came and carried their crates into the cargo hold of the ship, a tiny, steady procession that ended with a cargo claim slip tucked into her bag with trembling fingers. She needed more time, but it was rapidly running out. Blinking, she held a sniffling Brianne in one arm and gently closed her bag. Lifting it onto her opposite shoulder, it took a few moments to settle it with something resembling comfort.

For her part, Emma held onto her grumpy expression, a pair of tiny fists curled tightly into the hem of her fluffy pink jumper. Bright blue eyes blinked as she looked up to Oisin's face as he spoke, grumpiness slowly giving way to a trembling lower lip. She nodded slowly, her little voice cracking around 'I can do that' as she did her best impression of her twin and latched herself around his neck.

Chrys blinked as she gazed over, Emma mumbling something wordless against his still-damp shoulder. She closed the distance between them, free hand reaching out to gently brush fingertips against Oisin's cheek. There were a million unsaid things lingering in her gaze as she simply stared at him, a faint smile finding unsteady purchase. From behind them, a porter's voice rang out with the final boarding call and it startled her to some degree.

"Emma, love...we have to...to...go." her voice trailed off in a hitched whisper. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd taken advantage of his occupied state and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Brianne tightened her grip on her mother and buried her face in her shoulder even as Chrys gently tried to persuade Emma into her free arm, gaze focused on the little one and avoiding meeting his.

[Oisin Ocasta]

Oisin felt himself lean against her lips, teasing the moment out of affection for just a split second longer. His arms ached, straining desperately within the restraints of his self control, wanting to do more than just stand here and watch her leave. A tiny crack fractured it's way through, and an arm reached out, a feeble embrace holding the four of them in a cohesive unit for just a moment.

"Be safe," Oisin whispered softly, as he ripped himself away. He tried to find a smile, and put it on; traded it out for a more convincing one a second or so later.

And then he left. Or at least, took a single solitary step backwards, retreating from the Atreides by just one stride. It made no distance: it could have been the span between galaxies between them, and it wouldn't have felt any worse than that one motion did.

"I -"

The word was ripped out of his lungs, following in the wake of the sensation that felt like his insides, his being, his soul had been ripped out of him, tethered irrevocably to the departing family. An entire novel of hidden meaning projected itself across his eyes and the subtle twitch of his brow, even as his mouth faltered and retreated. The smile was reinforced instead, drawing on as much warmth as Oisin's heart could find within him.

"I'll see you all soon."

[Chrys Atreides]

He'd leaned in.

And for a moment...for just that split second, her shattering heart felt warm and whole. For that second, there was nothing and no one else save for the four of them. The way it had been since almost the beginning.

Chrys swallowed hard as Oisin stepped back, her voice completely lost as she lifted her eyes to meet his. Teeth caught her lower lip for a moment as he stepped back, her mind unable to make sense of what she saw in his gaze over the pounding of her heart. Emma curled into her shoulder and clung as tightly to her mother as did her twin, with now three sets of cerulean blue eyes staring at Oisin. Emma and Brianne's gazes filled with tears as they whispered goodbye one more time, voices small and soft.

She herself couldn't force the word out past her lips, rapidly fraying control already taxed in an effort to keep herself together for the twins' sake. Her gaze spoke volume enough as she gave in and simply stared, drinking in the sight of him until she abruptly turned and walked down the short passageway. The twins waved until they couldn't see him any longer, the door closing behind them with a painful finality.

[Adonis Inirial]

You could see it in his shoulders as he stood there: the sadness; the loss; the resignation. Alderaanians had not invented loss and heartache, but over the last few years it had woven itself into their biology, an inevitable layer that draped itself across their form. There was not an Alderaanian alive who had not lost someone; not a single family that had not been shattered and broken - not an Alderaanian whose world had not been as obliterated as their shared home of Alderaan had been.

And so they compensated. Alderaanians clung to each other like refugees. They banded together, friendships forged into something stronger, reaching for every outstretched hand to drag themselves towards some semblance of belonging. When those bonds broke, when face or the Force pulled those surrogate families apart, it was painful to watch; and even more painful to experience. But it was a fact of life; a fact of the galaxy. There was nothing that any of the scattered, downtrodden survivors of Alderaan could do.

But Adonis was no ordinary survivor of Alderaan. His rank and uniform might paint him as a Commander in the Alliance military, but beneath it he was more. The last son of House Inirial. He was Alderaanian nobility; one of the last remaining few. For centuries his family had been leaders and custodians of Alderaan's culture and heritage; and even with Alderaan gone, that duty had not diminished. It was his responsibility to preserve the memories of a lost world, and to protect it's people from harm, whatever form that hurt might take.

Squaring his shoulders, Adonis stepped out from the corner that he'd been respectfully waiting behind, striding out into the corridor as if he had absolute purpose.

"Lieutenant," he called, tapping a few instructions into the datapad in his hands. "Exactly the man I was looking for."

[Oisin Ocasta]

Lieutenant. It was the last thing he expected to be called right now; and as such it took him a few moments longer than it should have to react.

"Commander?"

There was confusion in his voice, something his expression found extremely useful, embracing the opportunity to frown and narrow his eyes as away to halt the shimmering that had begun to haze across his vision. He focused, as best he could on collecting his thoughts, mentally walking his way back through the ship towards the flight deck and his fighter; the safe protective cockpit of an X-Wing, where Oisin knew who to be and how to survive being alone.

"Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

[Adonis Inirial]

He was not a typical pilot. Most of the members of Rogue Squadron that Adonis had met over his career - and most of the pilots in the rest of the Alliance, for that matter - had the same basic personality. They were confident, bordering on ego: but it was a necessity, a power source that fuelled the deflector shields that kept them alive against impossible odds. There was no room in a starfighter pilot for doubts, for balance, for modesty. Your personality had to behave the way your ship did: thrusters blasting you forward, no time wasted on staying still or hesitating.

But Oisin Ocasta was not that. Or at least he was, but those traits were somehow buried beneath more. Perhaps it was because he specialised as a reconnaissance pilot, long periods spent dedicated to observation and patience. He was not hesitant, not indecisive; and yet he was contemplative and considerate. He saw beyond the surface details, and in every briefing that Adonis had provided, he always saw the flickers of deeper understanding behind the Alderaanian's eyes. There was more than merely that, as well. As part of Rogue Squadron, Oisin had become Carré's wingman, the pilot charged with watching her back; one of the contributors to the fact that Adonis' sister was still alive enough to be a few months away from making Adonis an uncle. Carré trusted him, and so by extension so did Adonis; and he owed him, not just as a fellow son of Alderaan, but as family. He could see the pain coursing behind Oisin's eyes, and he would not allow it to stand.

"I take it you got my message?" Adonis asked, finishing the last few instructions on his datapad to falsify the time code and make it appear that the message he'd just written had been sent about an hour before. He waited patiently as Oisin's expression shifted through the expected confusion, before gesturing beyond him to the airlock. "The Destiny. I asked you to meet me here."

[Oisin Ocasta]

Oisin stared at him blankly, dumbly glancing over his shoulder before his frown deepened further.

"No, sir, I -"

Confusion ricocheted around Oisin's mind. A message? Instructions to come here? Oisin knew Carré's brother, of course, but mostly they'd crossed paths in a briefing room, occasionally acknowledging each other from opposite sides of a holoprojector. Adonis Inirial was an analyst, a strategist, someone that Vansen Tyree relied upon to help him coordinate his operations and formulate his missions. Why would an officer from Alliance Intelligence have wanted an X-Wing pilot to report to some military vessel bound for Jovan Station and the border? Was Adonis about to board the ship himself, and had some important message that needed to be delivered to Oisin of all people in person before he left? Was there a situation? A crisis? Was something wrong with Carré?

He straightened his shoulders, trying his utmost to force himself back into being the person he was supposed to be. Whether this was Commander Inirial, Lord Inirial, or Adonis Inirial that needed him for some reason, Lieutenant Ocasta was at his service.

"I've been helping a -" He trailed off, his mind fumbling for the right adjective. His mind's fingers brushed against friend. He grabbed hold of it, and threw it into the deep dark depths where it could never be used to describe the Atreides again. "- my family get situated aboard. They're travelling to Jovan."

That felt good. That felt right. That felt utterly superfluous to this situation, and not anything that Commander Inirial needed to know about.

"What can I do for you, sir?"