Even now, he couldn’t help the little trill of pride he felt when she complimented him, and replacing the customary ‘thank you, ma’am’ with a respectful, but distant nod took real effort. His reflexes didn’t quite want to remember that he was no longer her subordinate, nor even on the same side. He set his shoulders, tight, and tilted his chin as she stepped down from her throne to offer him the explanation he’d asked for - another gesture he could still appreciate, even in the face of all of this.
His mandibles flared at the mention of his untimely departure from the station - still a source of guilt, even knowing how little he would likely have been able to change if he had been there, and how critical bringing knowledge of the Kett had been. But counter-terrorism had been his trade before the Initiative, and he would never be able to get away from the idea that he might have been able to do something, help to shore up the powder keg before it went off, and his eyes narrowed sharply when Sloane confirmed what he had suspected for months - that she hadn’t consented to his reassignment. That he had been lied to, if only by technicality.
“I think Addison’s exact words were ‘she didn’t disagree’.” A flash of anger and frustration, signaled by a sharp, reptilian clicking in the back of his throat. “Hydroponics wasn’t getting anywhere, rationing had started to take a toll - resource reconnaissance was pretty easy to paint as the best option. A way to bring people some hope, relieve the strain. Maybe if the golden worlds hadn’t been a wash it would even have worked.” But they had been, and it hadn’t, and he had come back to a station in chaos bearing nothing but even more bad news. “I would never have left if I’d known they were keeping you out of the loop. For whatever that’s worth, now.”
He quieted, listened to the rest of the story, and his mood continued its gradual tailspin - because he’d heard plenty of versions of this from plenty of different people, but Sloane Kelly was the only one he still trusted not to bullshit him, and driving home the knowledge of just how much of a shitshow the uprising had been all around stung. It was the feeling of mingled inevitability and avoidability that frustrated him so badly, knowing things should have been better, but also being able to see and understand why every party involved had done what they had done, whether he agreed with them or not. There had never been anything there but shades of gray and a whole hell of a lot of people thrust into positions they were ill-prepared or ill-suited for.
“I believe you.” He settled on after a long silence. “And I understand.” But the words didn’t soften him at all, and that acquiescence only lasted a few moments. “I don’t understand this.” He jerked his head toward the throne sitting on the dais, gestured expansively with one clawed hand, meaning to indicate everything, Kadara Port as a whole. “The racketeering, the drugs, the extortion. Your people are openly beating civilians in the street, throwing them to the klixen like trash. I get that the Initiative screwed up, I get that you stuck by the Exiles to protect them - I don’t get how that turned into whatever it is you’re doing now. Most of these people are still suffering just as much as they ever were aboard the Nexus, and I don’t understand how the woman I knew could allow that.”
“ You think I don’t know that? They lied to you. They lied to everyone. Some of us even started our own club over it. ”
As infuriated as Sloane was by the news, Kandros was a good officer, her best. If he had any indication something was amiss with the orders, he would’ve looked into it himself. That Sloane never doubted.
But it’s all news to him. In the brief beats of silence that stretch between them, Sloane isn’t sure what he’ll make of the spectacle that went on in his absence, if his position in the Initiative warped his perspective, too.
There’s some reassurance in that his answer ultimately won’t matter. After all, this isn’t a bid to sway him from the halls of the Nexus. What he deserves is to know who he worked for then and who he works for now. No more, no less.
For all he does understand, there’s much more she expects that he won’t. That he’ll question. Sloane isn’t disappointed. This is where their little reunion takes on a decidedly bitter taste, where the sound in her throat is a scoff and the sharpness of her eyes looks over him, past him -- where her boots retrace their steps from before and bring her back to the chair where she began.
“ My people landed on this rock with nothing to show for it. How long do you think it would’ve taken us to starve on what we carried with us? Don’t kid yourself: your colleagues sent us here to die. I wasn’t going to let that happen. ”
What else could the Nexus think would happen? Their decision was a prolonged death in unreliable cryostatis -- how could the Exiles trust they would ever be revived, place their lives in the hands of people who already held them in poor regard? -- or a death out here. At least on solid ground, Sloane would go out on her own terms.
“ When we found the Angara, we traded information. They made mention of a port the Kett sacked some time ago. This port. I reasoned with them, told them it was a matter of time before the Kett tracked them down in the Badlands and finished what they started. With their knowledge of the port and the firepower we brought, the Kett didn’t know what hit them. They didn’t expect the Angara to have allies.
“ When the smoke cleared, the port was ours. I’d seen the mess on the Nexus. I’d seen how the Angara were forced out of their homes. I knew it couldn’t work like it did before. So, a few simple rules. Disarm in the port. Don’t start shit. Pay your fees. Everyone contributes up until the point where they don’t. Then they’re gone. ”
The irony of it is never lost on her. This isn’t where anyone imagined they’d be six hundred years later, the new beginning they were promised. Another lie. The same incompetence that muddled operations in the Milky Way was bundled right along with them.
“ Spare me the morality lecture, Kandros. It’s easy to sit on the high horse when you’re not down in the mud with everyone else. Try asking your allies to answer, first. ”
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