Face walked in a daze up to the cockpit. He could barely think straight, his mind replaying the battle over and over again, but he forced himself to take over Tarrik's place at the helm, dropping out of hyperspace just briefly to adjust course. As lost as he felt, he still had a job to do. Years of experience had taught him how to continue in the face of loss, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Especially not this one.
He forced himself back onto his feet, forced himself to make his way through the ship, down to the salon. The rest were already there, as was customary after a mission, sitting silently around the table, lost in thought, huddling close to Garan, who was staring blankly at the table. Face made his around the table to stand beside the Duros, the others silently making room for him. Face laid a hand on Garan's shoulder. 'I'm sorry,' he said softly. Garan flinched away at those words as if the sound of them physically hurt him. Face opened his mouth again to speak, but found he didn't have the words. He stayed there, sitting beside him, sharing his grief, wordlessly letting Garan know that he was there for him.
After a while, Garan broke the silence. 'The wrong one died,' he said quietly, his voice raw. 'Ra-' Garan paused, 'my sister wanted to be a racer. She loved building engines. She loved tweaking them, making them the best they could be, and she wanted to fly them, it was her life. She had plans. Me, I just build things because I'm good at it, but to her it was her passion. It should have been me,' he turned to Face then. 'And it should have been you.'
Face said nothing. His eyes stung, but he didn't look away. Garan was right. It was all his fault.
Garan went on, his voice turning harsh, accusatory. 'I saw you. You did nothing. She's dead because you did nothing.
'That's not fair,' Ka'iulani interrupted, sitting beside Face, but Garan snarled at her.
'She's dead!' he screamed and pointed two fingers in insult at Face. 'Because of you! Why?' he stood, kicking away his chair, and bent over Face, hover his face inches above Face's. 'She's dead, and Luna's either dead or being tortured, all because of you and I deserve to know. We all deserve to know. Who's Tycho, huh? Why did you stay there and do fuck all while my sister was being murdered? Answer me!'
When Face didn't answer, Garan marched out of the salon - or tried to. Vix stood in the doorway, barring the exit. He took the Duros in his massive arms and held him close, tightly but not oppressively so. Garan flailed his fists ineffectually at the Devaronian's bulk, Vix taking the beating in silence, just continuing holding on to him. Eventually Garan slumped in his arms and Vix rubbed his back gently as the smaller man cried onto Vix's bare chest.
Face watched him pour his anger and sorrow until Garan had exhausted himself, and Vix led him back to the table. The others looked at him, none quite so accusatively, not hostile, but it was clear they expected answers. He tried to take a deep breath, but his body couldn't manage the effort. he just collapsed more into the hollow pit in his chest.
'It was my fault,' he said quietly, his voice hoarse, as if he had been screaming for a year. It felt like he had been screaming in his head ever since Krayt squadron turned up. 'I'm sorry I failed you. All of you. You deserve someone who can lead you, and it's clear that that person isn't me. I can't keep you safe. I failed you during that battle, and I honestly can't trust myself not to fail you again. Not against them. I'm sorry, to all of you, but especially you, Garan. You need, you deserve, someone who will always have your back,' Face stood. 'Vix, you're in charge now. Be better than I was.'
They all stared at him in shock as he started to leave, but Ka'iulani reached out and grabbed his hand. 'Face,' she said, looking into his red-rimmed eyes. 'It's time.'
Face's lip trembled, his eyes pleading. He shook his head. 'I can't,' he whispered.
'Face,' Ka'iulani insisted. 'You have to do this. There's no point hiding it any longer.'
Face looked around the table, at the expectant, tear filled eyes watching him. Then he forced himself to look Garan at Garan once again. He tried to read him, but the Duros was dead behind the eyes, his mind and spirit already left to join his sister. Face nodded slowly. 'You're right.'
He reached into his flight jacket's breast pocket and pulled out a datapad, a datacard already loaded into it - the same datacard that the major had given him aboard the First Order station. He placed it onto the table and slid it over to Garan, who picked it up and read the contents, his eyes slowly scanning the words. When he was done, he looked up at Face.
Face addressed the tablet at large, trying to put a strength in his words but he knew he sounded as hollow as he felt. 'I failed you all, I failed in that fight, because there is a man named Tycho in Krayt Squadron, and as long as he is on the other side of the battle I'm useless to you, because I can't kill him,' he said, on the verge of tears. 'I can't kill my own son.'
