“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We need to talk about it,” Brant growled, chasing after Kellaro as they stomped up to their room in the Lorrdian motel. “You can’t just take off like that and–”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Kellaro pivoted and slammed his fist into Brant’s gut. The Lord Commander let out a cough, but his armor reinforced him from taking a solid blow. Staring at his fist, Kellaro quickly fled, shoving into the suite they were sharing, then further, out onto the balcony, where he could be alone, far above the rest of the city.
Brant was a few minutes late coming after him — perhaps just as shocked as Kellaro had been by the punch. “What’s gotten into you?” he wheezed as he sat down next to his brother. “I know I’m impulsive, but I’ve got nothing on how you behaved today!”
“Just wondering if there’s any justice in the world,” said Kellaro, and his dull tone stalled Brant’s fury. The Mandalorian was balled up as tight as his gimped leg would allow, arms loosely draped around his knees as he stared up at the sky.
“If you had just listened to me, everything would have been fine!” started Brant again.
“No, you need listen to me,” said Kellaro.
“Yes, that’s what I suggested all along,” Brant growled. “To talk to me!”
Yet Kellaro found he had nothing to say. He was angry, but not at Brant, he realized. He was angry at his own failures. Angry at his own inability to listen and the clawing, gripping sensation in the pit of his stomach: the resentment that wouldn’t let him go.
“I know you’ve been upset,” said Brant finally, when Kellaro still said nothing. “But you’ve got to realize there’ll be other opportunities. You don’t need to be so impulsive about it.”
“And I’ll blow them like I did this one,” said Kellaro lowly. “Each time I think I’m doing the right thing, it blows up in my face. Literally.”
“Are you sure ‘the right thing’ is what you’re chasing when you go off half-tilted like that?” said Brant. “Looked like your pride got the better of you to me.”
Kellaro looked away “No. It’s not that. I just… things always worked out for you, didn’t they? You’re the Lord Commander. I was trying to be… more like you. Like a Sith who… seizes and… dares and… gets the job done that way.”
“But you’re not a Sith.” Brant’s voice edged into bewilderment.
Kellaro thumped his forehead against his forearms. “Yeah, well, being a good little Mandalorian never got me much of anywhere, either.”
Brant sat for a long moment in stunned silence. “I don’t want you to be like a Sith,” he finally said. “It works for me because it’s expected of me. Because this is the Sith Empire, and that is what I am. You’re a Mandalorian. You have to do what is right by their standards, not mine.”
“If we are not twins, if we are not the same, then what are we?”
“I don’t know. Half and half, I guess…”
“You draw on your Mandalorian teachings to keep your Honor Guard together. I’ve seen it! Why can’t I do the same in return?”
“Because it’s not…” Brant’s mouth open and shut a few times in consternation. “Because you’re not Sith! You’re not… twisted or conniving or political or in a bad mood all the time. You’re Kellaro. Bright, loyal, optimistic Kellaro.”
“For all the good it’s ever done. Look where it’s got me!”
“Yeah,” said Brant. “Yeah. It got you here, right next to me.”
Kellaro said nothing, though he glanced at Brant from between his arms. Brant’s face was tight with shame.
“You are… part of my aliit. I need you. All this time, really, just I never appreciated it. Just like I needed you today. But… damn it! I also need you to listen! We’re a team, vod. We’re not fighting each other. We’re fighting them. I do my part, and you do yours!”
“What is my part, Brant? Seems like you can do everything, with those Force powers of yours. You never actually needed me — not even my discovery of those fake crystals. You could have used any of the Honor Guard instead to figure it out. Probably would have kriffed it up less for you.”
Another silence settled, Brant wincing, and Kellaro keeping his face hidden against his arms.
“Okay. Maybe I was wrong treating you as just another extension of my Guard,” Brant said softly. “I thought this was all about trying to give you back your confidence, but you never actually lost that, did you? You were out there acting like a prancing fool, and I was angry that you couldn’t see yourself, but it was me who couldn’t see you… see that this was never about your pride.”
Kellaro raised his head as Brant put a hand over his face.
“I get it now. It was about being cut off from the thing you loved most: being there for your clan. Wasn’t it? And I wouldn’t allow that, because I didn’t allow you to help me. Because I was too busy goading you into what I thought you needed… and that’s what nearly killed you. So I… let you down, Kellaro.”
Brant let out a deep sigh. Blinking, Kellaro silently shifted a little closer, to brush his knuckles against Brant’s arm, and then lay a hand on his shoulder.
“And there you go again,” said Brant, looking at the hand, then looking bemusedly at Kellaro. “Just trying to help.”
Kellaro grinned sheepishly. “Guess I can’t help myself, huh? Prancing fool that I am.”
Brant shook his head. “Hardly… look. I meant to tell you. There were enough witnesses that we were able to identify that woman and where they were taking that truck. We’re going to try again, but this time… I’m going to tell you what I actually need your help with, not what I think you should do. And then you’ll do you. Deal?”
Kellaro nodded. “Deal.”