"Oh....." Pita wasn't sure what to say, and even more so when she noticed the emotion on James' face. She walks across the room to where he was standing and wraps her arms around him in a hug.
"It will be ok." She says with a slight nod. "Why don't we go and visit her at her home?"
She thinks for a moment, not understanding the severity of the war between the two houses.
"Rogues aren't exactly supposed to like Navy, but they didn't fight you...." Pita says quietly as she pulls away from the hug and leans back against the bench.
"That's true, but this is a little different. The Rogues just want to cause trouble, and take money from transports. These Gallics... they're different."
He paused, again searching for a way to explain.
"The Gallics want to kill the Navy, and take over Liberty. You know, like be the new ones in charge of... everything, really. So you can see why we really don't like them, and they don't like us either."
He shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure where their home systems even are, anyways. Somewhere out past Bretonia, or so they say."
The certainty in her voice surprised her, she shrugged it off and looked at the oven cooking the pizzas. The smell of them made her even more hungry then she was before.
"I don't think they are very nice, wanting to take over everything. It's always a lot nicer when people just get along." She shrugs and looks back at James with a bit of a smile.
"Bretonia is another place like Liberty and Rheinland?"
"They're not very nice, no. Bretonia is another house like Liberty and Rheinland, and they're friends with Liberty. Poor Bretonia is getting the worst of the attacks from Gallia, and we're helping as much as we can."
He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he tried not to think of the war that would be coming to Liberty before long. Blissfully, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the oven buzzing. Their pizza was ready.
She nods, listening with interest about Bretonia. Pita was about to comment on something before the oven started buzzing. Losing her train of thought she grins.
She thinks for a moment before walking towards one of the cupboards "Do you want a plate or something for the pizza?"
Lambert guided his Guardian through the docking ring and down towards the planet's surface. Rather than head for a major city, as most of the traffic did, he immediately took a detour.
They flew through the dark clouds away from the sunset; the Guardian's air-breathing engines carrying them swiftly. It was perhaps ten minutes before Lambert nudged the stick downwards and the ship began to descend. There were many mountains below them, now - seemingly untouched by human hands. Here and there a road meandered through a valley, or a few lights shining in the dusk indicated a small town - but that was all the civilization in sight.
They flew down to treetop level and the ship slowed, until Lambert guided them through the trees into a small clearing. He touched down onto the overgrown grass in front of a small house, illuminated only by the light of his Guardian's headlight.
"This is it," he said, unstrapping and removing his helmet. "My home, such as it is." He popped the fighter's canopy.
He heard his guest unbuckle herself from her seat as well. Lambert glanced back at her, noticing she’d taken off her helmet for the first time since they’d met. Her nearly totally black hair was bound back in a tidy, neat bun, which saved it from any frizz inside her helmet. She had rather pale skin, with a gently angled face and grey eyes. She looked rather severe to him, as if she did not ever smile. That seemed to fit with her demeanor over the comms, however.
With an easy motion, Lambert turned and vaulted out of the cockpit, landing lightly on the ground a few feet below.
"Come on, I'll make sure to turn the lights on first thing," he said, aware the gathering darkness made the empty house look almost... menacing.
He turned around and extended a hand - implicitly offering to help her down.
Therai's face maintained a neutral expression, and she took his hand to climb down after him – a bag in her hand. She stumbled slightly as she hit the ground.
Lambert placed his other arm on her shoulder to briefly steady her as she stumbled - he felt her tense up for a tiny moment before straightening back up. Without a word, Lambert turned and walked up to the front door of the house. He busied himself for a moment at a small console by the door – working to unlock everything.
After a moment of work, several lights clicked to life in and around the house, immediately making it look much more friendly and inviting.
"Much better," he said, quietly, as he opened the front door. Inside, down a short hallway, was a nicely-lit living room with a couch and two chairs. There was also a fireplace, which Lambert immediately walked to. A small lighter got some old wood going, and it did much to combat the lingering chill.
"Make yourself at home. Not sure I have a lot of options, but would you like a drink?"
"...A glass of red wine...preferably cabernet..."
"Ah, I'm sure there's still a few bottles somewhere. Should be able to find something."
Therai glanced around the house. "I wish to change...where may I do so...?"
Lambert paused a moment. "If you want to change, there's P-... the guest bedroom. This way," he said, leading the way into the kitchen. From there, he gestured to his left, down a hall to a bedroom. The door was open and a very bright, flower-covered bedspread was visible.
Therai paused in the doorway for a moment, her gaze flitting all over the room, from salient detail to salient detail. "...Do you have a daughter...?"
"I did, in a sense," he said. "She, uh... left. For good, probably." He turned away, digging through some cabinets in search of a good bottle of wine.
Therai stepped inside without requesting elaboration, closed the door, and clicked the lock. Lambert shook his head wryly, privately wondering if he'd made a mistake by returning to this place.
After a few moments, he finally found what he was looking for - a bottle of cabernet that was one of the best in his small wine collection. He supposed it was appropriate to go ahead and drink it, so he popped the cork. After filling two glasses, he brought them and the bottle out to the living room and set them down on the coffee table. Collapsing onto the couch, he waited.
Soon, Therai returned down the steps, wearing an ankle-length dress of black and muted blues. Her hair had been let down from its bun, instead having the rear locks gathered into a ponytail near the back of her head, though most of her hair remained loose.
She sat down gently on the couch, a leather-bound journal and a pen in her hands, and glanced up toward him, her shoulders still shrugged up slightly. While her face was neutral, to his eye she seemed somewhat uncomfortable. She glanced to the coffee table, and took one of the glasses of wine, sipping it discretely.
Lambert smiled slightly, trying his best to be welcoming, but realizing he wasn't doing the greatest job. "So, uh... should we start?"
"...Yes..." Therai opened up the journal, apparently a new and blank one, and swiftly scrawled something on the first page with practiced speed, as though she did it all the time. "You have...good taste in wine..."
"Ah, thank you," Lambert said, taking a sip from his own glass to mask his trepidation. "As I may have indicated, I drink fairly often - so I try to ensure I have good stuff on hand."
He cracked a weak smile, belatedly realizing that this made him sound like an alcoholic.
"...Do you feel that is a problem...or do you merely enjoy it...?"
"I enjoy it, but I also feel it is a problem at times," he responded.
"...Tell me about it..." Therai started writing, glancing down at the pages, but occasionally back up at him.
"Well, uh... a lot of the time when things aren't going so well, drinking makes me feel better. I don't always drink to excess, you know - like I can control myself a lot of the time. But sometimes it... gets out of control, y'know?" Lambert took another long drink, lips pursed and body language still a bit uncomfortable.
"...What do you feel...is out of control...?"
"My emotions, I guess. Sometimes I just... like... really hate myself. Or I feel really upset about something. Or both. The alcohol helps with that, usually."
"Would you say that you drink to self-medicate...?"
"That might be a pretty good way to describe it. Not, like... all the time. I can control myself.” He paused, clearly thinking. “But when it gets bad... yeah."
Therai's pen scratched against the paper softly. "How often would you say that this occurs...?"
"Oh, it varies. Couple months ago, it was almost every night for a couple weeks - drinking alone at the Norfolk bar. But it hasn't really happened since."
Lambert frowned slightly in thought before continuing. "Before that... kind of the same thing. Good times punctuated by bad ones. Intermixed. My life's a goddamned roller coaster ride sometimes."
"Did this coincide with anything distressing in your life...or was it merely habit...?"
"Oh no, it tends to coincide with distressing stuff. That Nomad was one such time. There have been... many others."
"...Would you say that your tolerance to it has increased...?"
"To alcohol? Yes, a bit."
Therai nodded, still writing. "Do you go through periods of withdrawal if you try to stop...?"
"A little. I mean, I'll want to drink more if I feel distressed. If I start feeling better, the urge goes away."
"...Do you ever...experience any of the following symptoms...after you have been drinking for an extended period..." Therai paused, took a deep breath, and then closed her eyes. "Hand tremors, insomnia, nausea, vomiting, anxiety, hallucinations, prevalence of nervous tics, or seizures?"
"Yes to everything except the nervous tics and seizures," he responded, frowning slightly in concern.
Therai paused for a moment as she resumed writing. "...Do you...often drink more...or longer than intended...?"
"Yes - when I'm not feeling great. Otherwise, not really."
Therai nodded once again. "Do you...have a persistent desire to cut back on alcohol use...accompanied by unsuccessful efforts to do so...?"
"I mean, I know I shouldn't, but when I feel terrible anyways... I just don't really care, to be honest." Lambert looked down at the floor, averting her eyes.
Therai watched his gaze, then picked up her glass of wine and took another sip before gingerly setting it back down. She adjusted her positioning on the couch before she started writing again.
"How much time...would you say...that you spend attempting to gain alcohol...or recover from its use...?"
"When I feel bad, and I’m drinking a lot... probably a few hours a day. That's all recovering, mind you. I can always get my hands on a drink if I need it."
Therai nodded. "Does your drinking interfere...with your work...hobbies...or social life...?"
"I try not to let it, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't interfere from time to time. Sometimes more so than others..."
"Have you ever given up a job...hobby...or friend...because of your drinking...?"
Lambert thought for a long moment. "Sort of... I left the Navy once, but drinking was more the result of that than the cause... if that makes sense."
"...Yes...that makes sense..." Therai wrote a bit more.
"Do you believe that it has caused you harm thus far...whether physiological or psychological...?"
"Yes," he said, without any hesitation.
"And you continue to drink...even knowing this...?"
"Yes," he repeated. "It makes me feel better in the short term, so that's why I continue."
Therai wrote another sentence, then took a small breath. "...There are seven criteria for alcohol dependence...as detailed by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders..."
"You have met all seven...of three necessary to qualify for it..."
He looked down, shaking his head. "Well, that's not good..."
"There are ways to help combat this...but...would you like to continue with other topics...or first go over treatments for this...?" Therai paused. "I am not a doctor...but I am aware of several methods that may help..."
He looked up, meeting her gaze. "Let's just... keep going. Might as well get all the problems out on the table before we start talking about fixing anything."
Therai nodded. "I agree...is there anything you would like to address next...?"
He shrugged. "Nothing comes to mind."
Therai gazed back at Lambert for a moment, before nodding. "I can only help with what you choose to share...but you need not...share anything if you do not wish to..."
Without warning, she winced and let out a small cough, covering her mouth with her sleeve.
"I don't know," he said, reaching around to rub the back of his neck. "I've got a lot of problems, to be honest."
"Alright. Sometimes I just can't sleep, sometimes the nightmares keep me up. My mind just won't rest - it has to... like... torment me."
"Describe them..."
"They vary. Sometimes they're about that creature... playing with my mind. Sometimes I'm losing someone I care about. Sometimes I dream about the things that I've lost..." Lambert trailed off.
"Anything else...?"
"Honestly, the ones that make me wake up in a cold sweat are about people. People close to me, who... turn their backs on me, or die, or leave. Yeah, those are the ones that really hurt. I dream about dying a lot, too. Million different ways... but those don't bother me so much anymore."
"Do any particular people recur...?"
"Of course. Pita. Rachel. Siara. Rohj. Chloe. Polstari. And others from the more distant past, though their faces are hazy in the dreams now..."
"...These people are important to you...?"
"Yes," Lambert said, simply.
"Are there specific actions...or means in which they die...that they take...that are recurrent...?"
"Yes," he repeated. "Pita doesn't always die - she's taken back to the Rogues sometimes. Rachel usually dies in battle - her ship will disappear in a fiery ball and I… won't be able to get to her. Siara tends to just... fly off into space. Not really dying, I guess. Just... losing interest."
"...I see..." Therai didn't write for the moment, simply eyeing him. "...I would like to try something...if you are willing..."
"...Do not panic...please..." For the first time, a glimmer of doubt seemed to rise on Therai's face, the first true emotion to surface.
Lambert's features hardened, visibly steeling himself for whatever was to come. "Go ahead," he repeated.
Therai's hand moved to the cuff of her sleeve, tugging it gently, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep, slightly uneasy breath. When she opened them again, she was staring down at Lambert's knees, half-lidded, but the sheer blue glow unnaturally emitting from her eyes was plain to see.
A very, very gentle and warm presence surfaced in Lambert's mind, not at all intrusive, simply making him aware of its existence.
Therai met his gaze, then nodded silently. Once again, she had shrugged up her shoulders, shrinking a little bit.
Lambert shuddered, closing his eyes for a long moment. Finally, he spoke. "I know you were probably expecting a more dramatic reaction but... I have also been exposed to your kind in a positive way. I don't believe you will do to me what the... monster... did."
Lambert raised his chin and opened his eyes, looking at her with a defiant cast in his eye, as if daring her to say otherwise.
Therai's face said nothing, but the presence in his mind surged with warmth and relief.
As he gazed at her, Lambert slowly and deliberately allowed the presence in - as he'd done once long ago.