Say It Like You Mean It, Attn:Maris,Constance [fishw/permission]

[Lelouch Villa]

Despite being off of active duty and thusly having nothing official on his plate, the last forty-eight plus hours had gone by far too quickly for the High General. Then again, they had also been some of the most excruciatingly drawn out forty-eight hours of his life as well. It was a paradox he preferred not to dwell on because it meant dwelling on what he’d been ordered to do.

And it still wasn’t over.

Apologies were not a part of Lelouch Villa’s life. Never had been, and as far as he was concerned, never would take a foothold. He didn’t do things he felt sorry for. He did what he wanted and he’d be damned if he let things like feelings get in the way. He still felt no remorse for hurting the Wing Commander like he had, none whatsoever. The only remorse he did feel was that he felt for getting smacked for it--he did not enjoy reprimands, especially when he felt they were unnecessary.

Still, Grand Admiral Stone had made her point and as such, he found himself skulking down the hallway of the complex Constance Bravil called home. The entire ‘apology,’ as it were, was officially scripted in its final textual form and in hand. Somehow it had been approved by the Grand Admiral herself, and now it was his job to deliver it in person. He would have much, much, much preferred to just wire it to the woman, but it was insisted that he be there for the delivery and acceptance.

To make sure this all went over as ordered, and to just make things worse, Maris was at his back. She was Stone’s one perfect way of assuring that her call for punishment for Lelouch’s crimes went as planned. With Maris around, even the High General dared not step out of line. That was probably the only reason he actually didn’t turn and bolt the other direction even now as they neared the Wing Commander’s personal apartment. He wanted nothing to do with this. It was stupid and pointless and downright... embarrassing, actually, though he’d never say that out loud.

The pair came to the door, and he froze in front of it, glaring at it in both contempt and trepidation. He did not want to see the woman behind that door, let alone talk to her at this point. It wasn’t she who was so much dislikable in herself--as women went, she’d proven herself to be ‘alright’--but it was the principle of what he was here to do that had him both loathing and anxious.

He paused, knowing he should probably knock or something, but he was more content to just stare at the door for the moment. Maybe he’d get lucky and she wasn’t home.

[Maris Kala'myr]

The walk to Wing Commander Bravil’s quarters was one of awkward silence and one that Maris was not to be blamed for. She had tried to engage the furious and bad-tempered High General on a number of occasions. The subject of conversation differed as Maris strived to find some point they could converse on. As the pair passed a security checkpoint, she had enquired to the High General’s health. He snorted dismissively. Ascending in a turbolift, Maris asked if he had slept well. He gave her a look and said nothing. Walking a corridor of pristine off-white matte and Confederate grey, the subject of the weather was tackled. Lelouch didn’t even bother showing his dismay. Now, they walked in silence.

The pace the High General set was astounding. If Maris didn’t know better, he was trying to escape. Smiling and adjusting a tuft of hair from her eyes, she anchored it behind an ear and drew alongside Lelouch. Half turning to face him, she beamed a smile that was supposed to let him know that everything was okay. Instead, Maris registered annoyance. That was not acceptable. She had to try harder.

Maris did not understand the reason behind her ordered accompaniment of Villa to deliver an apology. There was no logical imperative, no security risk. Did the Grand Admiral not think Lelouch was capable of reading aloud? Maris highly doubted that. Lelouch Villa wouldn’t have advanced as far as he had done within the Confederation without a basic understanding of Basic. The possibly of her presence for emotional support was also evaluated. The process was terminated, requiring more data. But, ultimately, her place was not to understand, just to do. And that was what she did.

They came to the door to Constance Bravil’s apartment and paused before the threshold. Maris stood, watching in confusion as the High General stared at the glossy polymer coating. Frowning, she leaned her head around and stared at him. She stared at him as he stared at the door. Was he waiting for the door to open under its own power? Was he waiting for Maris to open it for him? Blinking with a smile, Maris concluded that was the only logical conclusion and she chided herself for not realising sooner.

Unfixing her stare on Lelouch, Maris regarded the door much like the High General was doing. Extending her index finger, she depressed the call button set into the door housing and waited patiently with a smile and her hands clasped neatly before her. Maris hoped Connie was in. It would have been a tragedy if Lelouch was unable to deliver his apology, and not to mention one that Maris would have felt obligated to rectify.

[Constance Bravil]

Stars, how Conner wished she'd never gone out the other night. In her more vindictive moments, she also wished she'd stood clear of the fight and allowed Villa to pummell Sorn's face until it reached the consistency of chunky salsa. And if wishes were fishes, you'd happily gut them all. Next you'll be asking for a slagging pony.

Constance had never wanted to be a celebrity. Recognized for her performance sure, but not stuck under a frinking spotlight. Much to her dismay, the events at the Ice Tap two nights prior had turned her into something of a 'star' so far as the Confederate rumor mill was concerned. Not only was she the current subject of an irritating abundance of not-so-covert scrutiny and stage-whispered speculation while on base, but she'd also been forced to field incessant inquiries about the incident from everyone and their second cousin three times removed.

Even the end of her shift hadn't put a stop to the frequent intrusions on her privacy. A few of the more persistent gossips had sussed out her home transponder frequency. The apartment's com unit had gone off twelve times so far since her duty cycle ended two hours ago. The increasingly aggravated pilot had stopped answering after the seventh call. She'd turn the kriffing thing into scrap if not for the off chance someone might contact her about an issue of actual importance.

No way in the nine Corellian hells was the Alliance plant so much as sticking a toe out her front door this evening. Constance was pulling a Frag and staying home. Well, okay, she wasn't quite pulling a Frag, as she hadn't yet been reduced to setting proximity charges around the entrance to her apartment. Though considering the way the night is going, just give me time... Curling up in her favorite armchair with a stack of maintenance reports and requisition requests might not be her usual idea of fun, but it was safe, dammit.

Or so Commander Bravil had dared to believe before the door chime sounded. "Bloody hell!" The exclamation was no less vehement for all it was soft. Her sanity hadn't eroded so much that she shouted at empty rooms. Yet. When the ring wasn't immediately followed by the sounds of someone entering in the apartment, she concluded it wasn't one of her fellow Renegades paying her a visit. The veterans all knew the key code to get in, after all, and only bothered to knock to give her fair warning in case she wasn't presentable.

Resigned to her present fate, Constance levered her slender frame out of her seat with a gusty sigh. What with all the interruptions she'd been subject to this evening, she hadn't even bothered to switch out of her uniform. The top button had come undone, and her dark hair loosed from its braid, but no other liberties had been taken with her appearance. Somehow tackling the tedious chore of paperwork was easier to manage when she looked more the part of Commander Bravil than Connie. A psychological fiction, to be sure, but the Corellian would take any edge she could get.

Conner made her way towards the foyer with impatient steps, crossing the length of her living room with its minimalistic decor. One of the advantages to being selective about your furniture purchases was that you had clear paths to walk through your apartment, rather than needing to maneuver around clutter. A lack of personal touches in your quarters also meant less you had to dust. The pilot didn't need her medals on display to remember what she did; indeed, some of her greatest 'achievements' she'd very much like to forget.

Ever mindful of the necessity of watching her own back, Constance made sure to check the security monitor in the hall before unlatching the door. What she saw there almost had her cursing again. Lady Luck was laughing at her; Conner swore she could hear the schutta in her head. For a second the spy entertained the notion of pretending she wasn't home, but she had the sneaking suspicion the pair standing outside her door would just come later then. Life would be so much easier if she were a procrastinator.

Dumping her emotions like so much excess heat through a starfighter's S-foils, the Wing Commander painted a polite smile on her face and opened the door. "High General." Steel gray eyes softened the slightest degree as they took in Villa's companion. "Maris. This is a surprise." As was the norm for her life in the Confederation these past eleven years, Angler sucked it up and did what she least wanted to do. "Please," she implored, stepping aside and gesturing them forward, "come in."

[Lelouch Villa]

The look that Lelouch shot Maris upon her taking it upon herself to knock on the door could have rusted durasteel in a heartbeat, but he dared not say anything or protest. He knew full well he wasn’t getting out of this—not with the woman hovering at his back, watching his every move. The hesitance had been foolhardy at best, and he should have expected Maris to take the initiative when he wouldn’t. She was rather… straight-up like that, and didn’t dally around. He could appreciate that in most circumstance, but when she was moving him ahead when he didn’t want to… it was hard to see the good qualities, really. Had she been just about anyone else in this whole wide galaxy, she would have very well been socked in the face, or possibly shot, had she been someone he genuinely hated.

It was a long, agonizing moment before the door was answered. For a brief time of hope, Villa managed to imagine that the Wing Commander wasn’t even home, and he could cop out of this assignment for the evening for circumstance out of his control. Sadly, it wasn’t to be, and the door opened to reveal Constance. She was quite a bit different when in uniform versus her civvies from the other night, but not at all harsh on the eyes, even now as she looked the pair over.

It was to the High General’s displeasure that she managed to at least look less annoyed with this visit than he felt she should have. If he had to be put out about it, he felt she should too. Sure, she was the one getting the apology handed to her, but he hoped to hell she didn’t get any good gratification out of it. No, he wasn’t apologizing to make her feel warm or fuzzy, or even satisfied. He was doing it merely because orders were orders and he dared not disobey.

"High General. Maris. This is a surprise. Please, come in."

Oh, how he wished she would have shut the door in their faces. He sincerely doubted that the Grand Admiral’s demand of apology included forcing entry into the apartment. If she had told them to kriff off, he would have done just that and reported said reaction back to Stone in hopes that she would rescind the punishment. But it was an ill-fated idea, and was quickly crushed as he found himself following Maris into the apartment.

He didn’t say anything to the woman, not in even remotely the same mood that he had been the night of the Ice Tap. No passes were going to be thrown her way tonight, and his feelings towards her had been significantly embittered. While she had done nothing absolutely terrible towards him on her own right, the fact that she was someone he had to apologize to made her a subject of his complete ire.

He glanced around her spartan apartment, noting that she didn’t seem to have anything sentimental or terribly decorative, which he would have expected from a woman. Of course, he was fully aware that she didn’t likely spend much time here, but nonetheless. Having taken his fill of the room, he returned his chilly gaze back to Constance. But still, not a word. Maris wanted the initiative in this disaster, she could have it.

[Maris Kala'myr]

"High General. Maris. This is a surprise. Please, come in."

Noting the gesture made by the woman, Maris waited patiently by the door and motioned for High General Villa to enter first. After all, he was the highest ranking officer and she was just a lowly assistant, albeit an assistant who was more than capable of brutally murdering Lelouch with his own arm. Even in light of those revelations, Maris smiled and gave him the right of way. It confused her when the general stood his ground. And so she waited with her hand gently extended towards Constance and her quarters. After approximately five seconds of anxious waiting, Maris finally decided to enter before him. It was a terrible breech of protocol, but what else was she to do? Entering, Maris heard the ill-tempered General on her heels and nodded politely to Constance.
"Thank you, Constance. And please forgive our intrusion." Maris chirped evenly as the door glided close behind Leouch.

Taking a few paces into the room, Maris took the opportunity to examine her surroundings. The similarity to her pathetic excuse for quarters did not go unnoticed. While a good deal bigger, both their lodgings had proportionally the same amount of furniture and the decor was similar; spartan and minimalistic, devoid of warmth or comfort. The droid nodded approvingly, pleased that her choice in interior design, or lack thereof, was shared by an organic. It meant that she was doing something right. Little did Maris understand the reasoning behind Constance's choice in decor.

Waiting in silence between the two with her eyes now locked on Lelouch, she blinked and slowly her head rolled to the left. Maris frowned a little. Why was he not apologising? This was not a difficult task and the general seemed to have understood the premise beforehand. The atmosphere was tense and deathly silent. Maris knew what she had to do and nodded to herself.
"Would either of you like to hear a joke?" she asked sweetly, glancing between the two. Maris took Lelouch's glare as a yes.

Moistening her lips, Maris turned her eyes to the ceiling as if remembering the quaint antidote she had overheard in the mess hall. The young private who had received a voracious laughter in response and the droid expected the same thing now.
"How do you space an Alliance cruiser?" her eyes battered between the pair expectantly and her voice took on an oddly animated characteristic. She didn't wait for either of them to answer, "You knock on the airlock!"

She laughed loudly at the joke, smiling wide and wrapping her arms around her chest. However, she was the only one laughing. This fact threw an interrupt and the noise ceased abruptly. Maris straightened instantly, the wide smile slipping back to something more respectable. Blinking, she looked between the pair; this was not the reaction she had expected. They should have all been doubled over in uncontrollable laughter.

"It is a play on the intelligence of the common Alliance solider, demonstrating how the soldier would open an air lock as if was the door to a home when a visitor knocked." The private had not needed such an explanation. Maris crossed her arms and made a face, "but, if the soldier was of below average intelligence, how was he able to circumvent the ships safety protocols to open the airlock in the first instance? Such systems are put in place to prevent such an action from occurring. Likewise, he would have to override the security bulkheads that seal such breeches from venting the entire vessel." Maris asked, looking to Connie and expecting an answer. When no such answer came, she sighed deeply and mumbled, "I do not get it either."

[Constance Bravil]

The byplay between the pair of fellow Confederates standing outside her door would've suited a scene in a witty holocomedy. The sight of the shapely blonde standing there with her hand outstretched for several seconds in silent invitation for the unmoving Villa to precede her tickled the Corellian's sense of the absurd. Were the situation a more lighthearted one, she'd be tempted to comment on the possibility of the exalted High General perhaps being frightened to enter her domain. As it stands, I'm not enthused about the idea of making him want to hit me again. Or hit on me either, come to think of it.

"Thank you, Constance. And please forgive our intrusion."

At last the standoff had been broken, the Grand Admiral's aide leading the way over the threshold into Constance's home. So far as Conner could tell, Maris was incapable of being impolite, even when dealing with the rudest behavior of others. "There's nothing to forgive," the brunette assured her unexpected guests. "I could use a break from doing paperwork anyways." While in truth she would've far preferred being left alone tonight, she wasn't going to take out her mood on her newest acquaintance. After all, the whole embarrassing situation the other night hadn't even remotely been Maris' fault.

After the apartment's outer door slid shut behind Villa, Conner took the opportunity to activate the privacy lock on it. This was a night she definitely didn't want one of her fellow Renegades wandering in unexpectedly. None of them were feeling the least bit charitable toward the exalted High General after hearing about the violence he'd directed at their CO. While the personalities comprising the squadron tended to clash on a regular basis, nothing would unify all the veterans faster than a threat against any of their own.

Bringing up the rear of the trio, Constance followed her visitors into the living room. Curiosity started to prickle in the back of her mind as to just what the two of them were doing here to begin with. From Mr. Growlypants' body language over there, you'd think he was being led on a forced march towards latrine duty or something. Displeased as she was with the man at present, Commander Bravil refused to return Villa's ill humor in kind. Part of the reason Angler had survived and remained (mostly) sane thus far had been by refusing to sink to the level of the assholes surrounding her in the Confederation.

"Would either of you like to hear a joke?"

Dark brows raised in a mild expression of surprise at Maris' question. She hadn't seen it coming any more than sensors could pick up a proton torpedo shot from her starfighter's rear blind spot. "Ah... sure?" Conner's best guess was that Stone's messenger girl was trying to (awkwardly) diffuse some of the tension in the room. She's going to have to tell the best joke in the known galaxy to accomplish that, given how tightly wound Villa looks. I swear, if he clenches up any more he's going to give himself a hernia.

"...You knock on the airlock!"

Stormcloud eyes blinked once, then twice in response to the well-worn punchline and the raucous laughter that followed it. Laughter coming from a lone source, to be specific; neither Constance nor her earlier assailant let out so much as a chuckle. Any inclination the Corellian might have had to force at least a snicker or two out for Maris' sake was quashed by her confusion at the bizarre behavior displayed by the statuesque blonde. The explosion of supposed mirth was too loud, too immediate, too exaggerated. Admittedly, the pilot couldn't say she knew Maris all that well yet, but still she felt the other woman's actions to be uncharacteristic.

"...I do not get it either."

Now Conner did laugh, if only softly and for a few moments. She couldn't help herself after Maris' detailed, pedantic analysis of the threadbare joke. This was more like what she'd come to expect, a strong inclination towards the overly literal. "I think part of the reason the joke's supposed to be funny is the sheer absurdity of it all. Can't say I get it either. First heard that one all the way back at the Flight Academy." She'd not found it any more amusing then than she did now, for multiple reasons.

A quick glance in Villa's direction revealed the older man's still sour expression, causing Constance to restrain a sigh. Whatever purpose he'd come here for, she wished he'd get on with it already. "Please, feel free to take a seat," she implored them both with a wave of her hand towards the living room furniture, assuming the role of a proper host for want of anything better to do. "Would either of you like something to drink?" Stars know I'm going to need a stiff one or three to get through tonight at this rate...

[Lelouch Villa]

"Thank you, Constance. And please forgive our intrusion."

"I could use a break from doing paperwork anyways."

It was some part of Lelouch that was glad that Maris was capable of being cordial in any situation. While most of the time her mannerisms bewildered him, it was moments like these that he was glad that she was taking the lead on being sociable. He wouldn’t have done it himself, and certainly didn’t plan to, but… well… he knew full well that it was his own reluctance that made this whole thing so damn hard. Not that he regretted his own feelings on the matter, but if he had to have Maris here, he was at least glad she wasn’t going to make him do everything himself.

And hey, it was nice to know a lady who could slaughter a Hutt with nigh little effort was also likely capable of a nice chat over tea. It brought some sort of balance to the galaxy, which helped Lelouch justify his own general nastiness. Somewhere, out there, someone was his foil and he could go on doing what he did best without it ever so much as tickling his conscience.

"Would either of you like to hear a joke?"

"Ah... sure?"

Oh, wait, screw that thought. He’d much rather Maris kill someone at this point than try to break the uncomfortable silence in the manner she opted to. Hell, he was even beginning to wish she’d just kill him and get this overwith. He was quite convinced he’d be better off dead than handing an apology over to Constance. Or anyone. Nothing personal against Constance, per se, but regardless.

He gave Maris an immediate glare that he hoped might shut her up, but she had proven herself nothing if not resilient, and the fact that Constance gave her tentative permission swept her up into the mode of telling said joke. There was no stopping her once she started something, it seemed, even if it wasn’t in her assigned duties from the Grand Admiral.

Or maybe Stone had ordered Maris tell a joke. Who knew. With how the past few days were going for Villa, he didn’t doubt anything anymore, especially when it was something that seemed out to get him.

”… You knock on the airlock!"

It was to Constance’s credit that she didn’t laugh at the joke, either. It was just so bizarre a situation that not even the relatively good-natured Wing Commander could find it in her to give a courtesy laugh. Given the source of the joke and the overall atmosphere of the situation, Lelouch was certain that no joke could have actually gotten a laugh. Maris, however, seemed to find it funny enough, or at least seemed to think it was supposed to be funny. She laughed it up rather good. It was sad to say, however, that when you find yourself laughing at your own jokes alone, it was probably time to stop telling jokes.

Yes, the General hoped that was the last joke he ever heard Stone’s lackey utter. It had been sufficiently more disturbing than he might have initially thought possible.

"It is a play on the intelligence of the common Alliance solider… I do not get it either."

”…Can't say I get it either. First heard that one all the way back at the Flight Academy."

He wasn’t entirely sure what made Maris tick, but her grasp of humor, while logical, wasn’t exactly… normal. Admittedly, Villa himself didn’t have the slickest sense of humor, but he at least understood when and where to laugh and what constituted humor in most situations. Maris, on the other hand, seemed to have a weird hang up concerning normal conventions.

She was just lucky that Constance was there to commiserate with her in her lack of understanding the ‘humor’ behind the joke, because Zero certainly didn’t have it in him to pity her or even say anything about it.

Honestly, could this situation get any more aggravating?

Probably. So we probably should avoid thinking about the dangers therein, lest the come true.

"Please, feel free to take a seat… Would either of you like something to drink?"

He was willing to move closer to the seating arrangements, but he didn’t move to sit, and certainly wasn’t about to. He didn’t feel comfortable here, and he wasn’t about to try and feign it. He shook his head at the offer of a drink, having been more or less banned from anything worthwhile anyways.

And then, gathering all the gumption he had in him—which was a lot, providing his line of work—he reached into his jacket pocket and extracted the datapad with his painstakingly written apology contained within. Without a word, he grabbed Constance’s wrist, shoved the pad into her hand, and then promptly withdrew from contact.

With a heated scowl, he stated, “I’m supposed to give that to you.” His tone made it clear he did not do this of his own volition.

Now, he was probably supposed to give it to the woman orally, but he wasn’t going to do it unless Maris genuinely forced him into it. Indeed, he’d have gone straight for the door right now if he’d not feared she might closeline him in route. He had no doubt she could.

[Maris Kala'myr]

"I think part of the reason the joke's supposed to be funny is the sheer absurdity of it all. Can't say I get it either. First heard that one all the way back at the Flight Academy."

She made a face, trying to compute how the absurdity of the situation was supposed to emote a humours response. Such absurdity was anathema to the rigorous logic that every core tenant of her intricate neural network was built upon.
"I see," Maris said brightly in little more than a lie. The droid quickly resigned herself to gather more data before subjugating another innocent party to a bout of ill-prescribed humour.

"Please, feel free to take a seat, would either of you like something to drink?"

A frown flashed across her brow at the quick shake of Villa's head. Such a terse and non-verbal reply may have been acceptable in the general's mind, but not today.
"Thank you for the offer, Constance. But this should not take very long."
To Maris' credit, she did not mention that High General Villa had been forbidden to consume alcohol and definitely would not be drinking in her presence. Surely such a revelation would have caused a mischievous grin to flutter across Connie's lips and Villa to send a look of absolute hate to Maris.

It was unlikely that Lelouch knew the fine line that he tip-toed as he snapped out and restrained the flight commander's wrist in such an aggressive manner. The situation of the night before had placed Maris on high alert when concerning the high general's actions towards Constance. Although Grand Admiral Stone had not explicitly stated as much, Maris was determined not to let such actions of the previous eve repeat themselves, especially not when she has been ordered to facilitate the high general's apology was conducted in a agreeable fashion.

She relaxed gingerly as the high general slapped the data-pad into Constance's hand and recoiled like he had just burnt his fingers. The serene expression upon her face fluctuated though a disapproving countenance. High General Villa had just flaunted in the face of common decency and numerous articles of etiquette in his haphazard and discourteous delivery of the much needed apology. This was not supposed to be difficult and Maris instantly saw the extent her presence was needed to arbitrate this discourse.

"I’m supposed to give that to you."

Clearing her throat to draw Lelouch's attention, she took a quick step towards Constance and gently removed the data-slate from her grasp. Turning on a heel, she stared down the high general sternly with only the touch of a smile upon her lips.
"Please forgive High General Villa, Constance. He forgets his manners," said the droid softly, never shifting her gaze from his, warning the high general of just exactly what she was expecting from him. Placing the data-slate back into his grasp, Maris broke the intense stare and cordially stepped aside, smiling and motioning towards the injured party with a graceful sweep of her hand.
"Please, try again."

[Constance Bravil]

"Thank you for the offer, Constance. But this should not take very long."

Promises, promises. Conner wished she could take Maris' words at face value, but she knew better. Not that she doubted the other woman's intentions. Quite the contrary, actually; the Grand Admiral's aide so far appeared to be one of the most straightforward individuals the pilot had ever met in the Confederation. Commander Bravil appreciated such a character trait. That said, good intentions and five credits wouldn't so much as buy you a cup of caf in these troubled times.

No... her doubts sprang from a very different (not to mention visibly hostile) source. The exalted High General didn't seem a fan of making things easy for anyone. Especially when he'd been forced to come here in the first place. Oh, neither of Connie's 'guests' had said as much, but they didn't need to. The possibility of Villa electing to pay her a visit on a voluntary basis after last night's debacle struck her to be about as likely as Frag deciding to eschew all forms of violence and running off to join a monastery. Theoretically possible, yes; worth considering for so much as a picosecond, no.

When the subject of Conner's musings began to move towards her, the Corellian dropped her train of thought and prepared for the worst. Her outer shell of civilized behavior never faltered, but below the surface there was a subtle tensing of muscle. By instinct her posture altered in slight degrees, giving herself better balance should the need to defend herself arise. Most likely such automatic preparations were unnecessary; surely the man wouldn't be so foolish as to invite further censure by striking her again in front of an official witness. Still, better to be overly cautious than overly dead.

There was no flinch from the Wing Commander when the fierce-eyed Army officer fixed a tight grip on her slender wrist. If Villa had been looking for one, he'd be leaving her apartment disappointed. There was no reason and less need for such a reaction on her part. Not only did Constance know herself capable of fending off any physical assault the man might make, but the pure fact of the matter was she felt no fear towards him.

Yes, he was a dangerous individual, a bigot and a bully and no doubt a war criminal multiple times over. She didn't deny the risk he posed, but it was a risk she'd grown accustomed to taking. On a fundamental level, he was no different than all the other monsters populating the Confederation military. Of higher rank than most, sure, and perhaps more renowned for his viciousness, but a beast of the same nature all the same. He was the devil she knew, a creature almost comforting in its familiarity after eleven years of self-imposed exile.

“I’m supposed to give that to you.”

So he can still talk. I was starting to wonder if Stone had torn out his tongue. Conner met Zero's fearsome expression with an unyielding stare of cold steel and a blank expression. This Corellian didn't intimidate easily. While protocol demanded she treat the cretin with a certain outward measure of respect, regulations couldn't make Constance think Villa deserved any of it.

Before she'd had the chance to read the contents of the dataslate she'd been so abruptly presented, the brunette found herself relieved of the item in short order. Conner offered no resistance to the other woman taking the 'pad back. Curiouser and curiouser. The reasons why Stone's assistant would take such an act eluded her for the moment. Dark brows lifted in silent inquiry as her attention returned to Maris.

"Please forgive High General Villa, Constance. He forgets his manners. Please, try again."

As comprehension dawned, the Alliance spy didn't know whether to laugh or dive behind a convenient piece of furniture for cover. The sight of the exalted High General being put in his place by a 'mere' functionary was without a doubt one of the most hilarious pieces of poetic justice Conner had seen in a long time. That said, Villa wouldn't share her amusement. Indeed, the Dolomarian military scion was far more likely to explode with the force of his beloved demolition charges. Restraining her reaction to a brief twitching of her lips swiftly stifled, Commander Bravil watched the scene play out before her and waited.

[Lelouch Villa]

To Constance’s credit, she didn’t react overtly to the move that could have been taken a physical assault made by Lelouch. She resisted reacting prematurely and as a result, was released without incident. He hadn’t planned on her reacting--he’d tagged her personality well enough to know she wasn’t a hothead--but if she had, he would have gladly returned in kind. Maybe he was itching for another fight, he didn’t know. It would have been dumb of him, but that was why he was bating Constance instead of Maris. Maris he knew for certain would do something about him. She, after all, had the authority to back the ability.

Of course, Maris still acted in her own way against his wishes. Almost as soon as the datacard was in Constance’s hand, it was out of it again, gently removed without resistance by Stone’s lackey. He almost protested out loud then, but found himself abruptly silenced from the gentle but firm look from Maris.

"Please forgive High General Villa, Constance. He forgets his manners. Please, try again."

Was she kriffing kidding him?! Didnt she realize that it should have been amazing that he’d even come this far? She wasn’t nearly as bright as she seemed to be if she thought he was going to hand that over any nicer than he already had. He hadn’t thrown it at Constance, which he had briefly considered. He had handed--well... okay... not exactly handed--it to her, and given her his explanation without snarling about it. Sure, it hadn’t been the most gracious of anything, but it had at least been civil.

Fine, civil wasn’t good enough? They weren’t even going to get that. He met that serene look Maris carried all too well with a stony glare. Jaw set, he growled, “No.” Simple as that. He wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t care what Maris was capable of doing to him, he wasn’t going to make an idiot of himself by pandering to her ‘let’s play nice’ wishes. He’d written the damn letter. that was more than good enough in his sight, and he was sick of this game.

If Maris didn’t hand that card back to Constance now, he was leaving, simple as that. He wasn’t going to stick around and keep doing this apology until it was as good as Maris apparently expected it to be. Her standards were not his, and he wasn’t planning on pandering.

[Maris Kala'myr]

"No."

Constance remained quiet and as such at this moment did not exist within the droid's cerebral processors. Her attention resided upon the turbulent high general and his utterly stubborn nature and inability to deliver the simplest of apologies. Her eyes narrowed a degree as she stared down Lelouch without flinching and without showing any notion of giving in to his refusal. She couldn't compute why this was an issue and while the prerogative to enquire was forceful, it was overridden by duty and the need to follow through on Grand Admiral Stone's orders.

Apologies were something of a specialty to Maris as she was often giving them for misunderstandings resulting from her off-kilter personality and failing to grasp some of the basic concepts of sentient existence. She knew that it was plainly obvious that slapping a data-slate in the offended parties hand did not constitute an apology on any world that she knew – and she was familiar with many. It simply wouldn't do. And while Grand Admiral Stone had not specified a verbal apology was necessary, Maris took it as such. Therefore, High General Villa would not be leaving until he said those two precious little words and handed the data-slate to Constance in an agreeable manner. Maris found it oddly perplexing that such decorum was lacking in someone of the rank of high general.

Lelouch had not made any effort to take the data-slate from her hand and when he made a line for the door, Maris quickly moved to intercept. Now standing between his freedom, she extended the apology loaded device and smiled.
"High General, we will not be leaving until you deliver the apology and display the subsequent remorse for your deplorable actions," said Maris with a twinge of disappointment in her tone and a serious edge to her words that were oddly offset by her wide smile. Her blue eyes never left the madman and stared through him and she didn't care for a single clock cycle whether or not Lelouch wished to be here or not. He had been given an order by a superior and she had been ordered to see that the grand admiral's order was sufficiently fulfilled.

Threat protocols were quickly processed and Maris knew that the man before her was considering doing something stupid. His body language screamed violence and it seemed that it was with only the slimmest of restraint that Lelouch hadn't already tried to dislodge the droid from her position and storm out the door. Predicting the possibility of violence, governor circuits decoupled, giving Maris the full freedom and access to the deadly force she wielded so easily.
"Please reconsider your options, High General Villa. It would be a shame to add more shameful behavior to your record so soon. I am quite sure that the Grand Admiral will not be so forgiving this time." The warning was simple, either the apology was given politely or things were going to get unpleasant.

[Constance Bravil]

“No.”

"High General, we will not be leaving until you deliver the apology and display the subsequent remorse for your deplorable actions."

This won't be ending well. Conner took a moment to mock her internal monologue for stating the obvious. You didn't even need to be more mentally developed than the average brainwashed Dolomar military recruit to see where tonight's events were going. The exalted High General was itching so bad for a fight, you'd think he was allergic to the very concept of civilized conversation. None of his scowling and stamping of feet affected Maris in the slightest, much to Villa's displeasure no doubt. She'd bet her wings on violence breaking out in the very near future.

Commander Bravil stifled the sigh of resignation which swelled in her throat. All she'd wanted out of this evening was a little peace and quiet. Instead, she'd gotten the clanging of the bell announcing Round 2 had begun, and in her own quarters no less. Here she was, trying to be hospitable towards almost the last person she wanted anywhere near her right now, and what did she get for her efforts? Absolutely nothing. Was nothing sacred anymore?

"... I am quite sure that the Grand Admiral will not be so forgiving this time."

Poor Maris, trying so hard to be reasonable with an inherently unreasonable man. Foreseeing his intention to escape, the blonde woman had turned into quite an effective obstacle between the soldier and the door. 'Zero' halted his progress towards the exit as a result, but the fury sparking blue flames in his eyes made it clear this stalemate wouldn't last for long. Her jaw set in firm resolve, Constance stepped up towards the pair. Not that she didn't think Stone's aide couldn't take care of herself in the impending brawl, but she'd really rather none of her furniture got busted in the process.

"Look, why don't we just settle down here and--" Conner cut herself off at the sight of Villa's fist pulling back. She'd known he'd be the one to throw the first punch in this mess, so his actions didn't surprise her. Disappoint her, sure, but she was used to her fellow Confederates living down to her lowest expectations by now. No reason to expect someone of higher rank to do any better at behaving like a rational sentient.

Instinct had her moving forward, her own arm extending out in the path of the High General's intended blow. Her hand caught Villa's limb in mid-swing, diverting the force of his punch above and to the right of Maris before he could correct his aim. Constance entertained the faint hope that her intervention might make Paol's old army buddy think twice about repeating his mistake. No such luck, however. Once more thwarted in his desire to inflict bodily harm upon another person, Villa rounded on the woman who'd twice now dared to get in the way. Another snarl of rage twisted his features as he made to strike out at his new target.

Enough was enough. She'd been patient, she'd been tolerant, and she'd even been respectful up to this point. His superior rank had afforded Zero that much leeway with the Wing Commander. No more. The Corellian refused to play the part of the bastard's punching bag again. Protocol could only protect him so far, and he'd now officially exceeded that particular vessel's shield capacity.

The mask of calm on her pale features never wavering, Constance sidestepped the blow's trajectory. In the same smooth motion, both hands acquired a firm grip on Villa--one on his wrist, the other on his shoulder for leverage. After that, it was a simple matter to use the demolitionist's own momentum against him, pulling his body over her hip and flipping him around in a deceptively effortless looking throw. Completion of the maneuver through the precise manipulation of kinetic force slammed the High General to the ground, flat on his back--and no doubt spitting mad.

Releasing her hold on the man, the brunette took a step away from the prone officer. "Sorry, sir," she said in a flat tone utterly devoid of any trace of actual regret. "Reflexes. You know how it is." Conner fully expected the exalted High General to come after her again. The brunette fell without thought into a defensive stance from the first tier of Echani styles, weight balanced evenly on the balls of her feet. Unless Maris chose to intervene, Commander Bravil had every intention of finishing their fight, once and for all.

[Lelouch Villa]

"High General, we will not be leaving until you deliver the apology and display the subsequent remorse for your deplorable actions."

Remorse? Was she insane? Even after this, he felt no remorse, let alone was he going to be able to show it. And like hell he wasn’t leaving--he had made it quite clear what his intentions were, and the fact that she thought she had any true authority to tell him otherwise... Ooh, she might have been the lackey of a high ranking officer, but the Grand Admiral she was not, and he was in no mood to listen to a rankless minion.

Even as he knew it was a fool’s errand to fight her, he was still intending on getting her to back the kriff down and let him leave, even if he had to make his intentions clear by force.

All of this was more than clear on the general’s face, his blue eyes lit with a fire that had clearly grown past the ember state they’d started out this night with. He was beyond quiet annoyance, beyond even growling fury. He was on the brink of just completely losing it. Taking it out on Maris was not a move he would have made in any other state. His anger was bound to cloud some of his recollection of just what she was like in the heat of a fight.

"... I am quite sure that the Grand Admiral will not be so forgiving this time."

They’d see about that. In some part of his mind, Lelouch convinced himself that the Grand Admiral would excuse him of his current course of action when she heard his side of the story. Of course, that was complete and utter delusion, as his side of the story wasn’t likely to be all that different from the stories of the two women also part of this scene. But whereas he might have seen some sanity and rationalization in his state of ire, the other two most certainly could see no such thing. While overreaction could be dismissed in his own head, others would note it for exactly what it was.

"Look, why don't we just settle down here and--"

It was hard to be certain, but it might have actually been the sound of Constance’s voice trying to calmly appease his anger that finally set him into action. Even he couldn’t be sure in retrospect--all he knew was the moment the words were coming out of her mouth as she drew nearer the pending combatants was the moment he chose not to hold himself back anymore. He fully intended to show Maris that he meant business, and if that mean connecting his fist with her annoying smile, then so be it.

Of course, it seemed fated that Constance never allow him to land a much desired blow while she was in his presence. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that made her want to protect people--as in Sorn’s case, he definitely hadn’t deserved it, and in Maris’ case, it was probably less effective than Maris herself would have been--but he didn’t even begin to dwell on the possibilities now. With his aim so expertly deflected, he spun on her instead.

It was amazing, really, how fast his focus could change when something so much as entered his line of site when he was just this furious. He was like a rabid canine, snapping at whatever came closest to his teeth.

Lucky for Constance, though, she was just a good bit faster and likely even smarter than this particular breed of canine.

Teeth grit in unnatural vexation, he went for her much as he had Maris. He wasn’t a hand-to-hand combatant by any means. What little he did know rarely went to good use, and despite all of Det’s efforts over the years to make it otherwise, he was a terrible student of the martial arts. He didn’t have the patience to be anything but a dirty brawler. Sure, he had strength on his side, but up against a disciplined opponent, he never even so much as had a chance to hit his mark and prove it.

It was because of this lack of decent training--or perhaps more correctly, a lack of any learning having gone on in attempts at said training--that he didn’t really even know what hit him until he was flat on his back. Constance had managed to sidestep his intended injury to her and in the same motion had turned his own momentum against him with the simplest of movements.

Startled by his sudden meeting with the apartment’s floor and a little winded with the force at which he’d hit it, he stared at the ceiling for the duration of the moment it took him to recollect his rattled senses. Of course, it wasn’t going to be long before the anger still overriding his emotional state had him back on his feet despite it all.

"Sorry, sir. Reflexes. You know how it is."

With those words, his eyes flashed darkly up towards the woman who had downed him so easily. He’d see if she thought she was so funny when she was the one on the ground and he was feeding her his boot.

Rolling to his knees and lacking any true finesse whatsoever, he didn’t even bother to get all the way to his feet before he lunged for her again, perhaps hoping to go under her defenses and straight for her knees to get her off those annoyingly nimble toes.

Of course, he didn’t even think to consider the fact that Maris was still there and probably wouldn’t react well to the idea of him attacking Constance at all. Ever. But especially not when he was, you know, supposed to be apologizing to her and all. He must have forgotten about the purpose of tonight’s visit, because this was clearly the biggest epic fail of apologies ever made.

[Maris Kala'myr]

Standing in the path of the furious high general without flinching or showing any fear at her situation or the threat or bodily harm, Maris smiled. She blocked his path in an utterly passive way, displaying no hostile intentions and falling back on the resolute belief that High General Villa was a good Confederate and would not do anything to actively sabotage his career and continual climb in rank. Even with that thought lodged in high capacity registers, the threat evaluation data she was receiving from Villa spoke an entirely different story and he was about to do something that he would severely regret.

"Look, why don't we just settle down here and--"

Constance joined the tense situation and tried her best to instil some sensible thought in the general. It was to the woman's credit that she didn't want to see further violence and Maris appreciated the effort to calm the situation. Her appreciation would have to be shown later as currently Lelouch Villa was the sole object of her attention. The fist that he drew back was instantly recognised as a hostile gesture and streamlined processes and subroutines quickly took active control over her cerebral processors, terminating the previous and cordial discussion in grim acceptance.

Maris was fully prepared to restrain the vicious high general and cajole an apology from him. Biometric analysis showed Villa wasn't going to pull the punch, he wasn't going to hold back. In that moment the droid decided to let Lelouch follow through on his violence just to show him what a futile gesture it was. Sadly, even with the general's strength and anger, the threat he posed to Maris barely registered. As she waited defiantly for Villa's fist to make contact with the fleshy bits of her face, their cordial host stepped in.

Not even flinching as the diverted punch narrowly missed her, she watched intensely as Villa rounded on his new target. Constance had just superseded Maris in the high general's animosity. The technique the wing commander displayed in grounding the general was textbook and the droid observed silently, knowing that they were beyond words and threats. There seemed to be only one language that High General Villa understood and luckily Maris spoke it fluently.

Her eyes snapped quickly between the two brawlers. Villa was on his back, stunned and winded by the flip. Constance took an Echani defensive stance two metres away. The option to not step in was not even processed. It was her duty to put an end to this fighting as quickly as possible. The high general was instantly singled out as both the instigator and the lynchpin. He was the one that required pacification.

"Sorry, sir. Reflexes. You know how it is."

With Lelouch charging Constance again, Maris dropped the data-slate and intervened. Mid-lunge, delicate digits that possessed far more power than anyone would have assumed by inspection seized Villa's arm and killed his forward momentum instantly. His body spun awkwardly, free limbs flailing as potentially bone shattering pressure was exerted by the droid upon the high general's lower bicep. Maris looked deadly serious with only the smallest twinge of a smile on her thin lips. She needed to display to Villa that resistance was futile and that his abhorrent behaviour would not be tolerated.

A quick change of footing accompanied by the backward extension of her arm sent the villainous Villa flying across the room. He struck the door jamb hard and tumbled in a sprawling heap to the floor. Maris was quick to approach, not letting the high general even think about retaliating. Crouching down mid-step, she snatched the data-slate from the floor and stood over him. Bending down and taking a fistful of uniform, Maris hauled him to his feet without effort and pinned him against the wall.

Maris had taken on the most imposing visage centimetres from Villa's face. She stared darkly, never breaking eye contact and conveying more in a glance than she could possibly via a spoken language. The smile was almost nonexistent and her brow had furrowed to a most disapproving angle. The data-slate was slapped to his chest and she waited expectantly for Villa to take it. Only once he had did she release the grip she held on his uniform and stepped aside.

The change was immediate as she turned, pleasantly smiling towards Connie with her hands neatly clasping the other. Constance could have blinked and been completely unaware that Maris had anything to do with the high general's appearance by her stately return to form moments after manhandling her would be aggressor. Slowly her head turned back to their mutual problem. Her hands slid apart and she motioned towards Constance with a slow, deliberate, and graceful gesture accompanied by a nod. The apology would continue.

[Lelouch Villa]

To say Villa was a linear minded fellow might have been a little too obvious at this point, but there it was. Mind so set on showing Constance how he felt about her, he’d forgotten to add Maris into the equation. His fear of her was not without reason, and had he been thinking like any sane fellow, he most certainly not have done what he was doing now. Of course, had he had any level of rational thought in his head, he wouldn’t have had to be here apologizing like he was, and the whole situation would have been avoided altogether, but... What was done was done and it was hard not to wish he would just be levelheaded for once.

Not being a hand-to-hand combatant, he wasn’t entirely aware of what had hit him until he was back on the floor. He’d sensed some movement from Maris’ side of the room and then everything just seemed to happen to fast. A tight grip on his arm followed by a nice wall coming at him, and he was unable to do anything but collapse, pain ringing through his head, his anger begging him to get back up and keep at it while his agony pleaded for him to stay down.

Agony was preparing to win out when he felt more than actually saw Maris draw near. She crouched, he flinched, and with a strength that he couldn’t even begin to understand the origins of, Maris was making the decision for him. Hauled to his feet, he didn’t really stand on his own. Oh, he tried, but he was rattled and Maris hauled him up just enough that he didn’t really feel like he was standing so much as being propped up. He grimaced, struggled for a brief second before he realized the durasteel grip on his collar wasn’t going to relent, and instead tried to focus his gaze.

What he found was not really all that off the mark of what he’d expected. Maris was mere centimeters from his face, his gaze solid and unrelenting. Fury was determined to make the General snarl, but with blue locked on blue, fear was taking control. Angry as he was, he rather liked being alive, and getting summarily slaughtered was not exactly the best bet to good health. He tried to at least stare her down, but only one set of blue was going to relent, and it wasn’t going to be Maris. It was under no uncertain terms that Maris was conveying exactly what she wanted from the ground pounder. It actually didn’t take any time whatsoever for Lelouch to break under that pressure, the tense anger in his body releasing slightly into a more malleable human being. He broke their little staring contest, swallowing hard.

He looked back reluctantly as she slapped the data-slate to his chest. Her gaze was still strong and his teeth bared in what would have been a snarl but really ended up as more of a reluctant whine. This was... so... stupid.

He took the data-slate though, knowing Maris wouldn’t let him get away with anything otherwise, and he was starting to hurt from being pinned to the wall in the way that he was. As he’d expected, she let him go then, turning aside to smile brightly once again at Constance who was watching them with an emotional state that Villa--in his subdued but still existent anger--didn’t begin to want to try and read.

Hell, let’s just get this over with.

Shaking slightly against adrenaline and perhaps a little bit of shock, he took a few tentative steps towards Constance--casting one glance at Maris as if checking to see if she approved--and then offered the data-slate as politely as he possibly could. It was clear he was reluctant, but Maris had tamed the beast--at least for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry,” he stated tersely, but as sincerely as he really could be expected to. The word alone was foreign on his tongue, let alone the actual sentiment. “About the other night, and...” he glanced again to Maris and officially failed to make eye contact again with Constance afterwards, his eyes instead looking more at her feet and the surrounding carpet, “...just now.”

Guh, maybe letting Maris kill him would have been better.