In The Rough

[Omi]

Her metallic hand twitched by her side at the question. A tic of sorts, perhaps.

"Couldn't do Milford no more," she said simply, still standing by the window. She was turned away from Morreti, and didn't bother to turn back to face him once more, leaning against the frame with her right arm.

"I never asked t' become actin' Commander of th' Alliance when I did. This were always meant ta be someone else's job -- Herald had a knack fer leadin' that I've never had. Don't have th' same gift he had; none of th' patience, none of th' diplomatic acumen. Lose my damn temper too quickly."

Siobhan's voice was low and husky, her tone flat and barely above a whisper. The brief smile from earlier had died a quick and merciful death, replaced by a pensive demeanour.

"Woulda run the place into the ground, or at least it feels that way, if'n I'd tried ta keep steerin' on my own. Stracke dropped off th' radar, an' so did near everyone else. It was time fer me to step outta the picture as well -- let some other cell take a forefront ta spearhead our cause."

She paused for a brief moment, turning slightly from her city-gazing to regard Morreti sidelong -- the successor to the Alliance's proud history, its newest figurehead. He was far quieter, more calculated, than his predecessors had been. Herald, in particular, had been a man of few complications and even fewer periods of silence. The cobra, by contrast, appeared more patient, but she knew as well as anyone that volume was not a contributing factor to one's level of threat.

"Can't say I expected t' see the Alliance rise again. The Xenos as a whole, yeah, but I didn't expect ta have any part in it. Figured coordinatin' logistics was as good a way as any to contribute, but hell if I had the strength to prop the place up myself."

Her eyes met his in earnest now, grey flint locking against blue ice.

"I kin say honestly I'm glad someone kept th' flame burning, at th' very least. Not sure what hole you dug Stracke in particular out of, either, but apparently there's somethin' about you that can kindle embers back ta an up-an'-comin' inferno."

The woman's expression was almost unreadable, a mixture of emotions warring on her features. Jealousy? Regret? Bitterness? Or was she simply sizing him up amidst all of those at once? It was hard to tell. The woman wore her emotions on her sleeve when it counted, but she had learned the value of keeping them in check until that breaking point was reached.

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