Ask Nar Shaddaa Another World

[Dr Ilana Morata]

At the touch, she stiffened visibly, turning her head to look at the Ranger with obvious surprise. She should have expected this by now, but in reality comforting her was not what happened. Most tended to keep away from the Doctor, at least emotionally, and she was used to that. And yet when his hand wrapped around hers, she glanced at it and then glanced away, feeling a heat touch her face.

After a moment, she lightly squeezed his hand with her own, biting down on her bottom lip. At first, she said nothing, and let silence settle heavily between them. But then the quietest reply parted from her lips to him, still looking out.

"Thank you."

After that, she didn't speak much else, apart from directions to the droid towards Aida's apartment. When they arrived a thin Human woman was pacing in front of the grimy building, wringing her hands and staring out into the cityscape. As soon as the speeder would pull up, however, she sprinted over, and at waking to see the woman, Keela immediately perked up. "Aunty Aida!"

The Rodian woke up with a jerk, a hand where his blaster could have been.. but finding none and no threat, relaxed ever so slightly. The woman peered through the window, and when Ilana lowered it, she merely gave the woman a nod. Aida nodded in return, hugging Keela close to her side as soon as she was out of the speeder. But then eyes flicked back from the Doctor to her companion, and brows raised.

At the slightest shake of her head, the woman shrugged, then stepped back. "I'll treat them at my place. I'll comm when her mom gets here," she replied in crisp, light tones, "and bill you later. We'll take care of Talos too."

And just like that, Keela had gone. Swallowing thickly, the Doctor forced herself to turn away. Let Keela be wrapped up with someone more adept at comfort; she wasn't as maternal as Aida would be. But she kept watch from the corners of her eyes until all three were in the building, with no other sounds, and didn't relax until a minute of silence resumed before exhaling, visibly relaxing into her seat.

She still hadn't let go, but she wasn't conscious of it yet.

"Mind if I go back with you?" she asked quietly, still staring up at the building. She would have wanted to be alone, but she felt like she had been alone enough the last few years. Perhaps having company... someone good around her... wouldn't be such a bad way to end the remainder of the early morning after all. She still couldn't process everything that had happened. Not yet.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Maybe he had jumped the gun a bit. Doctor Morata’s default was a face of cold, reserved calculation. A look of surprise when his hand clasped hers was just as surprising to the young man. When the Arkanian looked at their hands and immediately turned away, Corran felt uncertainty, maybe even almost regret. He internally steeled himself and held her hand in his. Even if she ended up scolding him, the blond youth wouldn’t feel contrite about trying to be supportive.

Corran returned to looking out the front windshield, keeping his hand firmly in Ilana’s. The silence filled eternities. That didn’t seem to bother him much now. As much as they had gotten to know each other in such a short time, the young man understood to be patient with the wintery woman. She would move at her own pace and he was perfectly fine with that. Interestingly enough, he didn’t have to wait along. Ilana uttered barely a whisper in gratitude. A toothless smile appeared on Corran’s face.

The rest of the flight went smoothly. Once the speeder touched down, a practically jubilant atmosphere erupted from Keela. Aida embraced the young girl and Liito, probably getting too old for this kriff, lumbered out of the vehicle thankful he was out of danger. Between Aida and the doctor, a lot of unspoken things seemed to be said. When the older caretaker woman cocked an eyebrow at Corran, he leaned forward gave a thumb-and-two finger wave from the steering mechanism with a friendly grin. The contrast between the doctor and the Ranger was probably confounding. Details were exchanged and it seemed all they had been set out to do, and more, would be handled. The speeder idled, allowing Ilana time to linger and gaze upon the departing trio, especially little Keela. Even when they were out of sight, the doctor stared after them. They could have sat there all day if needed; Corran wanted her to have all the time she needed. This whole… day would have been hard for anyone to digest.

Doctor Morata finally sighed and slouched into her seat. The young Ranger adjusted his posture in expectation of driving her back to a place of her choosing. Maybe she had an apartment here. Her own ship to get off this dark moon. A bar to drink away her thoughts or… the Crimson Venture?

“Might as well give you the house key at this rate,” Corran teased her, that usual boyish grin on his face, “Sure. I’ll be happy to.” With the press of a few buttons and pushing forward on the controls, the speeder pulled off from Aida's decrepit estate and out into the mid-morning sky. After a more-than-careful merge and flying at incredible speeds through the skyways, the young man could tell they were nearing the launch pad that held his freighter. It had been a silent drive, for the most part. He didn't want to pester her if he could help it. Still, the Ranger could tell she needed to decompress somehow, though he didn't know the Arkanian woman well enough to know the solution. As the vehicle pulled off the skyways and neared the landing page, Corran decided to start out small. "So... does this mean I get to make you breakfast?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She even surprised herself at chuckling at his witty remark about a house key. He was a good-hearted man.. young, certainly, but still a mystery. There was something of the Ranger that Ilana found intriguing beyond his wit, or occasional boyish charm. Beneath the humor and good intentions beat the heart of someone who knew the darker side of the galaxy better than she'd expected. Once again, the memory of how easily he took down those two goons flashed to mind, and she wondered what experience brought him to such efficiency. Not that Rangers were incapable of defending themselves, but rather, for someone as young as he was, to be so experienced... not to mention when he snapped to alertness just by her asking for his help.

There were many mysteries to Corran Velt, and for some reason she looked forward to learning more about the man that walked with the badge. Why he chose the law versus the far easier path of crime, when he could clearly flourish there. How he could remain so cool under pressure, and yet not ask her everything under the suns about her profession with the underbelly.

And yet... he'd showed her kindness. And not for the first time did she feel like she didn't deserve it. And the memory of last night... he must have known, somehow, that she wasn't trying to be personally intimate, and yet he made it personal, and she didn't fight it. She wasn't a stranger to want or desire, but last night was different somehow. And she couldn't puzzle it out just yet.

At his question, she snapped back to the present. She gave him a faint, tired grin, and nodded once, unbuckling. "At this hour, you still want to cook for me? Where have you been all my life?" It was a wry joke, said from a woman emotionally wrung out, but no doubt he had questions. And she would answer them, but...

"Yes. Along with about a metric ton of caf so I can regain some mental capacity."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

At her jest, the Ranger chuckled. See? She could be plenty charming when she wanted to be. As Corran got out of the speeder, he stopped as if he forgot something. The Ranger placed his hand on the top hood and leaned hack into the cab. "Hey, what's your designation?" The astromech swiveled its dome and beeped a few times. "I have no idea what that means, but tell you what? If I ever find myself back on Nar Shaddaa, I want you as my driver," Corran confessed as he drew out a credit chip. The droid driver opened up one of its compartments excitedly and extended a little metal claw. Credit chip in hand, the droid recovered it inside its own chassis and sealed the compartment shut. It was the nominal fee, plus tip for the risk and expertise in ditching trouble. The young man wasn't even sure what droids spent money on anyway. Oil baths?

Corran rounded the rear of the speeder, which promptly dusted off as he passed by it. He pointed to the Crimson Venture and walked alongside the doctor, "I don't know about a metric ton, but I think I have the standard compliment of caf on recommended manifest. You know, stuff in case a pilot gets tired on a long haul. I don't really drink it myself." Once inside the old YT-1300, Corran took off his coat and blast vest, setting them on the back of the chair near the engineering suite in the common area. It took checking a few cabinets but eventually Corran exclaimed satisfaction as he pulled out a sealed caf tin and poured it into the machine. He placed a practical mug under it. While that was filling, the blond youth began rummaging around the kitchenette. "What did you want to eat? Eggs? Pancakes? Uh... dried fruit ration?" Corran looked over a square and silver packet in his hand before putting it back near the others, "Whatever you want, I can make it or at least try."

After some time of looking about the kitchenette, the caf machine chimed politely. Whoever designed the machine knew that its users were likely irritable with loud noises when brewing. The young man strode over to the counter and waited as the last few drips filled the mug. Perhaps now was the best time to mention it. A gift often made things go smoother. Corran took a quick inhale before speaking, making sure to be loud enough while facing away, "I'm glad I went with you today. For a lot of reasons, but mostly because we made a difference. A tangible one." The caf had finished and he picked it up by handle, turning slowly on his heel. "I understand how much they meant to you. Based on what you told me, you've known them for quite a long time." His steps towards her were careful, one after the other, prolonging the arrival of the warm beverage. When finally reached Ilana, he offered the mug to her. "How did it start? How did you get all... mixed up in this?" Corran gestured his hand broadly in the air. By "this" he clearly meant entangled with the criminal underworld. Mob dealings. The black market. He knew very well the doctor could deny him an answer and she was under not pressure or mandate to. Corran wasn't wearing his badge either, for whatever indications that meant.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Once inside his ship, she shrugged off her armored jacket, carefully hanging it up as well. At his first question she glanced up, white haired head tilted slightly. "I defer to your expertise in the name of breakfast," she replied, sitting down in the small booth with an elegant fold of her legs, watching calmly. "Dinners are far more my realm. Breakfast I don't normally have the luxury of having, as my day starts before any sunrises."

At the smell of caf brewing, she sighed in appreciation just for the smell alone, eyes closing as she leaned back. Exhaustion still tugged on her mind, and yet her tender cheek and his movement kept her just from the surface of drifting; she blinked her eyes open, however, when he stated he was glad to have gone with her. Glad? She blinked again, certain she misheard. But he continued speaking. She nodded once at his observations, then slowly leaned forwards, elbows perched on the table.

When the mug was finally in front of her, she merely wrapped her hands around it briefly, inhaling the aroma and letting the heat seep into her hands.

Ah. Finally, here came the questions. For a few moments, there was simply silence as she gazed down into the darkness of the fresh brew, gathering her thoughts. She would be honest... but it would be up to him to believe her or not.

"Origin story, then," she chuckled, but it was without humor. Taking a sip, she let it linger before speaking again, the strength and bitterness managing to pry some words from her at least. "I knew Keela's mother from before, I told you that already. As a resident. My first assignment was on a Corellian vessel as chief medic for an Unknown space venture, but we were attacked by pirates." She took another long sip, letting it linger again before continuing. Her eyes glazed over, lost in a distant part of memory.

"I was terrified. I didn't understand all these emotions, all the pain... and their captain found me. I was press-ganged into their service." White brows dented in a frown as she forced herself from the past, unknowingly gripping the mug tightly despite her calm narrative. "One of the mates was Talos. He offered me a release of service, if I would treat his gang every now and then. And then I met Keela..."

Again, her features softened, amber eyes almost warm, She swallowed thickly, indicating with her hands a small figure. "The first time, she was a newborn. Impossibly tiny, yet so alert... she didn't cry once at the examination, or the shots. She just gripped my finger the whole time, watching me. It was..." she faltered, shifting slightly, shoulders slumping. "It was so interesting to meet someone so new, so innocent, that was so attentive and calm."

She took a deep breath, then continued once more, still gripping her drink. "I work this way because at first they were my only clientele. They trust me not to talk... spilling their secrets is not only a breach of patient confidentiality, but it could get me killed." Her amber gaze levelled with his calmly. "Like last night. If anybody found out or made a connection, I don't just lose my livelihood. But even working through them, I have a code for patients I will not treat." She straightened, jaw shifting in anger at the memory of the boss whose thugs' brutal beating meant her first meet with the Ranger.

"Such as abusers, slavers. People who hold no qualms with violence to belittle or destroy another." She took another long, slow sip, closing her eyes with a pained expression. "But especially... those that neglect, maliciously or not... especially with children."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Origin story? Corran cocked his eyebrow at the quip but remained silent. Blue eyes observed how the snowy-haired woman reacted to the warm caf in her hands. It was almost something of a sedative. He’d have to remember that for the future. As Ilana recounted her history, the blond youth tried to imagine it playing out in his mind. A younger version of the Arkanian woman before him. What was she like then? Cute no doubt, maybe in that young college girl way. Probably just as smart and cunning. Introduction of pirates attacking an unarmed ship into the tale made the Ranger’s knuckles go white under his folded arms. He couldn’t tell if he felt upset about the thought of pirates attacking innocents alone or because it was more personal to him now. A young Ilana Morata, kidnapped and forced into medical servitude, with no one to turn to for help. By her own admission, she was terrified. Did they beat her, like those thugs back on Corellia?

Clenched fists softened as the doctor drifted to talking about Talos got her out on a favorable bargain. How that family – the one they worked together to help – had given her new life. Keela was clearly close to Ilana’s heart, even more than what was obvious before. Soft, sky blue eyes seemed to smile at knowing the icy Arkanian had a bond this strong with someone.

With that background, he understood why Dr. Morata worked the way she did. Last night, the Ranger understood that she took incredible risk to help bring the Duro smuggler into custody. That’s why he did his best to cover her tracks in the arrest. What did surprise him though was… her code. Her personal set of rules that excluded the cruel, the violent, the negligent. Corran thought she served her unsavory clients only for the under-the-table money and lots of it. Ilana cared for people and especially children. Her heart wasn’t as frosty as first glimpsed. This revelation changed that perception of her and caused a reflection on his own oath.

In an indescribable way, the young man felt something like acceptance or maybe even understanding. She was forced into the criminal underworld at first, but chose to stay in it. Doctor Morata had likely done countless good to people, like Keela, who didn’t have such a choice. And in its own cosmic way, all her choices starting from that fateful day of the pirate attack led to them meeting. It was selfish, but he was glad they met and wasn’t sure he would like a galaxy where they didn’t. In another universe, a young Arkanian doctor journeyed into the unknown. Would they have still met? Was Ilana who was she was now because of her experiences, or in spite of them?

Oh. Right. The empath. Doctor Morata could probably sense his emotions through all this and perhaps it was best to explain.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, the pirate attack, all those years ago,” Corran began quietly, a type of mournful condolence in his tone. “It shouldn’t happen to innocent people, but…” He stumbled, trying to summon the right words, “You're a good person, despite it all. I’m glad we met. It’s selfish, I know... but, I like you. More so now that you told me.” It was an abbreviated version of his thoughts, but it was the best he could do.

Without giving the doctor an opportunity to respond, the blond youth pointed to the mug in white hands, “I’ve got just the thing to go with that.” In a quick retreat, he was back in the kitchenette, gathering ingredients and cooking utensils. Being busy with the practical matter of a meal might help move past his own bashful admission. His youth was more obvious in social settings than any other time. Once the assortment needed for the meal was laid out on the counter, Corran paused for a moment before he got started. It was another selfish though, but one Ilana already knew part of from their first meeting. It was a minuscule chance, but who else did the young Ranger know with connections? "I know you can't surrender your clients," Corran began, looking down at the counter in a leading voice, "But you helped bring the two in the brig into custody, so there are exceptions." The blond youth nodded to the hallway that led to the jury-rigged cell. "What if there were people I wanted to bring to justice. For my own reasons. And you knew them?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She started when he mentioned her being a good person, visibly staring in disbelief. She wasn't a good person. She murdered. Stole, killed. Lied, even, to save her own skin. She felt no remorse for ending the lives of those that made her life a difficulty, nor did she lose sleep over denying treatment to those that needed it, no matter their chosen profession. And yet he called her a good person.

However, her face flushed visibly now when he mentioned liking her even more, eyes glancing down to the mug in her hands. She could feel the sincerity, the kindness, and part of her resented him for thinking so highly of her. It felt... wrong.

"I... like you too," she admitted quietly, brows denting over amber eyes. "You surprise me, and not many do these days. Not many... see me. You're one of the few genuinely good men I've met... and that's saying something." The words were stilted, awkward. She took another long drink, leaving it at that for now. Glancing up at his questions of help, she nodded once. "Then ask, and I'll help. I've been meaning to go legitimate for a while.. but I can't just do that and not expect some way for me to retain work."

At the topic of business, she eased, grateful for now to avoid emotional discussion or heart-to-heart chats. It was far easier to address those, but... He likes me?

For some reason, there was a warmth in her chest just even considering it. An odd ache, something she tried to smooth over with another slow sip of bitter caf.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

It was so silent in Corran’s own head he could hear his own heartbeat. Her four-word admission struck him like an ion cannon. It was only momentary, but he nearly froze still with his hands on the cupboard handles. She liked him back. As Ilana illuminated her thoughts, time started flowing again. What she saw as special in how the young man treated her was just how Corran thought people should be treated. Of course, that denied the special attention he did give her. That would be obvious to any onlooker. Corran mentally shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t really think she would even comment on his honest thoughts, much less reciprocate them.

Those giddy feelings were soon repressed by the larger looming ones that followed the Ranger wherever he went. How this all started. Why he first wore the badge. Revenge. Two eggs cracked together and the yokes dripped into the mixing bowl. They slid into the powder, reminding Corran of blood in sand. “I don’t have any names. All leads are 7 years old. I don’t even have any proof that it happened the way I think it did…” The young man’s voice trailed off, sounding melancholy just thinking about the hurdles in the way. He grew silent, mixing the ingredients together rhythmically, as if the task at hand provided a bare distraction. Sullen blue eyes then grew sharper, steeling themselves. That energy that so often welled up inside the blond youth that Ilana had witnessed before. The bowl settled on the counter. “I want to find the people who threw my father’s ship into a star.”

It hadn’t been vocalized in what felt like forever. Maybe even since he came back from Mon Gazza beaten to a pulp. His own mother had sent him off to work on a strict merchant crew because of the obsession. Corran’s voice seemed more bitter, the feeling of a ranting man outside a bar, “The report said it was a hyperspace jump accident. I think… I know that some organized crime gang killed him for debts owed. I -!” His voice reached a crescendo before suddenly cutting off. The wild eyes of repressed anger blinked back to soft blue. They looked at Ilana with some remorse. Even from this distance, her cold aura soothed him. “I… know it’s a long shot, but you’re the only person I know with connections to that world. The trail had more than gone cold. It vanished completely.” The chances of the doctor knowing anything about this, even who or why, was next to impossible. This was the desperate plea of a man who could never let it go. Corran's entire life was shaped by this one event. Even if it amounted to nothing or the search, however small, led to a dead end, he would keep trying. He joined the Sector Rangers in a vague hope that he might arrest, by random, his father's killers. Even if everyone else didn't think they existed. Even if the Arkanian woman before him couldn't help, or refused to, it felt... relieving to speak of it when it had been forbidden for so long.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She listened as he seemed to gather his thoughts. Surprise spiraled into thoughtfulness, into anger. A short, energetic burst of emotion that she could now withstand better, adjust to and understand, in some small way, the many facets that made up the young man talking to her. But his blunt words gave her pause, regarding him from her own view. She could see his back and shoulders stiffen, his jaw work as he vented out.

It was a brief storm of grief, of repressed anger, and then she understood the draw to him. It was that same ambition through her, the need to know why, the deep desire for answers even though the answers themselves could be impossible to find or to puzzle out. And to be denied that why, that answer that slipped elusively into the deepest dark of space... she could empathize in more ways than perhaps he would have expected.

Slowly, she got up. Moved over the short distance. Her movements were slow, hesitant. Truth be told, she wasn't even certain it was a good idea, but it was one worth trying.

She slipped her arms around his waist, a light embrace that he could easily step out of if he wanted to. She kept her gaze on his profile, gauging his features, his comfort level with any of this. "I.." she paused, then shook her head briefly, trying to find the right words. "I was told that... physical touch is.. good. I can understand... why you need to know." Her voice was quiet, a low rasp as her gaze still focused on his. But she was chewing on her bottom lip, unsure of how to be comforting, or... good, as he put it. Once again, she was keenly aware this was all new territory. So instead she stood there, then slowly released him.

"I'll do my best to help," she affirmed calmly, nodding once. "Let me know how I can help, Corran."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

When she rose, and the ethereal figure drew near, Corran felt more curiosity than uncertainty. That curiosity grew as she stepped closer than talking distance. Then into his personal space. Finally wrapping her arms around him gingerly. His arms slowly rose to embrace her as she spoke in careful words. His arms pulled her closer, turning into a full hug. Cold mixed with warmth. "You were told right," Corran said in a low, reassuring voice. His tone changed quickly to teasingly warm, "Especially when it comes from you." A light squeeze accompanied the playful jest. If that was the doctor's best and first attempt at affectionate support, it had a long way to go, but... her heart was in the right place. A proud smirk tugged at the corner of the young man's mouth.

When they parted, the last vestiges of youthful fury had long fled. The Ranger nodded lightly, "Thank you, Ilana. Even if it amounts to nothing... thank you." Corran leaned against the counter, taking a less serious posture, and gestured to the hallway quarters with a thumb, "It can wait though. I've got to take our prisoners back to New Republic space first." He picked up the mixing bowl nearby. Inside was something that looked like blue paste. "More importantly, I have to finish making you breakfast. It was going to be a surprise, I suppose I'll have to tell you now." He leaned close, a flirtatious and playful glint in his eye. "It's blue milk pancakes with a special ingredient my mom adds in. We always cooked breakfast together." Compared to the blue mix in the bowl and the eventual pancakes, they couldn't be further apart. Nothing a little pan and cooking heat wouldn't solve. Heat. Wait a second. While leaning close to the Arkanian, Corran squinted and shifted his head from one side of her face to the other. Finally he stood up and folded his arms, "When did you get that burn on your face? Want me to get you a bacta patch?"

It was a little unobservant of him. But between the frantic speeder exit, the sleepy ride to drop off their passengers, the deep discussions, and Ilana's hypnotizing golden eyes, when would a young man have noticed? Even without her answering, Corran walked past her to a small box attached to the wall near the entry ramp. Opening the see-through case, he pulled out a medical field-kit and brought it to the kitchenette. He set it down on the counter near the mixing bowl and flicked his blue eyes at the doctor. "Do you want to do it yourself or... walk me through it?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She eased slightly when he assured her she was doing right. Truth be told, it was not easy approaching and being the diffuse to the situation; her own bedside manner was typically blunt honesty, and the amount of times she had cracked a rib over that blunt honesty was not a small number. But then when he started teasing, a slow, uncomfortable heat flushed up her throat and even to her ears in a pale wash of rose, and she looked away, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"D-don't get too... used to it," she mumbled, arms crossing beneath her bust, still chewing on her bottom lip. She nodded at his thanks, then finally glanced back up, dropping her arms to peer past him at the blue goop there in the bowl. The disbelief made her slowly raise her brows, then glance back up at him. She couldn't tell by smell yet... but for some reason, she felt like she was a kid all over again, getting pancakes for breakfast. Not that she ever did, nor could she recall the chef being that cute.

She had completely forgotten about the blaster burn, but when he mentioned it the throbbing flared to life again, and she fought the urge to press her hand over it to cover it. "The sewers," she replied quietly, then watched as he suddenly stepped away to grab a patch before she could say anything else.

"Would you mind?" she answered calmly, indicating to her cheek. "There's no mirrors in here, and it's harder to do when I can't see the damage. Why, does it look bad?" She tilted her head, lightly resting a hand over it. She could still feel the heat just barely from the burn, and it stung to touch, but she was no stranger to small, inconvenient pain. It was merely a nuisance by now, growing more so the more he stared at it.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Inside the medical field-kit sat all the essentials of first aid, everything from splints to basic patches for finger cuts. Because of hazardous operations with the Sector Rangers, Corran had both rudimentary training and some experience in most of the equipment. The problem was doing it well on an actual doctor. Wrapping a blaster wound on a screaming man in the halls of a space station requires no gentle hand; just a sure one. Even then it is only temporary. If he wanted to do it right and not cause discomfort, he would take his time.

Corran grabbed Ilana’s wrist gently and guided it away from her face. Like he needed an excuse to hold her hand, but she provided the opportunity. Blue eyes examined the burn – longer than it was tall, barely a graze, but the red hew looked more painful against wintery skin. “No, it doesn’t look bad,” the young man said honestly, “It just makes it harder for me to tell if you’re blushing.” An eyebrow flicked with boyish amusement and a smirk to match.

Letting go of her hand, the Ranger walked a finger over the bacta patches of various sizes. Too small. Not wide enough. Ah, here we are. Corran lifted up a patch that would cover to the outskirts of the wound but not cover up her entire cheek. His features phased into serious and his vision tunneled to the task at hand. After removing the packaging, he peeled back the strips that hold the patch in place and lined it up with the injury. “Hold still, please. I don’t want to hurt you if I have to pull it off,” Corran advised, his eyes focused entirely on her cheek. The blond youth would likely not have noticed a Rancor in the room. Eyes zeroed in. A nibble on the lip. Furrowed brow. This would all be noticeable as he, gently as he could, placed the patch on and them smoothed the strips down to secure it. The man stood back up and rested his hands on his hips. “There. How’d I do? Does it feel any better?”

From his perspective the patch aligned well with the wound. In fact, the light blue of it blended in better with the Arkanian's skin tone than the painful crimson looked. The task was much more difficult than merely slapping one on someone who was already in worse pain. Not to mention, Doctor Morata would be able to tell a poor job from an acceptable one.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

"At least they were a poor shot," she replied softly, forgoing any response to his flirty comment. However, it didn't go unnoticed; her cheeks kept a faint rosy touch as he began to focus on his ministrations. It was partially a lie; she could have just as easily done it herself, but it was an opportunity to feel his touch along her skin again. He was warm, almost just rightly so, and goosebumps of awareness prickled down the nape of her neck at the light brushes.

He had that tendency to focus to a laser point; she noticed it before, especially last night, but that was one of the bonuses of being in his general proximity. He had a tendency to focus and make her feel like she was the only person in the room. Perhaps he had that skill with everyone... but it was nice to be noticed, and to be seen.

It felt ridiculous. A woman of her age and position, blushing and feeling tongue-tied. All of it was ridiculous, she wasn't even a breakfast person. She typically took down a cup of caf before bolting to her first appointment patient of the day. Once again she lightly rested her hand over the bandage, the throbbing dulled now, but the heat remaining. She nodded once, flicking her gaze back up. "You did well," came the quiet reply, then blinked.

"Thanks. But... I'm in your way, aren't I?" She turned her head to glance, realizing their positions had been switched in the kitchenette, and the space was limited. Her hand lowered to cross her arms beneath her bust, gazing up at him. "Sorry, I should move..."

She knew she should, but it was hard to. For some reason, her feet refused to move, and she felt herself glancing back up at him, recalling last night. It was... odd, to be intimate. Interesting, certainly, but to be so casual... she never knew life could be this laid-back, it almost felt like a luxury to even be able to sit back and eat a breakfast, much less not have to cook it herself. Typically she only cooked dinner, and that was if she was even energized enough to cook in the first place.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Satisfactory compliments from a trained and experienced medical doctor didn't come along every day. The young Ranger couldn't help but smile a little. He half expected to mess it up. Good thing too, because the patient was someone he was keen to do well by. He took a few moments to pack up the medical field-kit and organize it back to its original configuration. When he closed the lid, Ilana drew attention to her location. Corran hadn't noticed it at first. Even though she excused herself, the Arkanian didn't budge. Amber eyes looked at the blond youth, deep thoughts clearly behind the eyes.

She was between him and everything needed to finish prepping breakfast. That didn't have to be a problem though. "Oh, I don't know," the young man mused in a low, poised tone, "I kinda like right where you are." Corran drew closer, crowding the small kitchenette. A hand griped Ilana's waist as he drew nearer. His chest hovered barely apart from hers. Closer still. Their noses nearly touched. The man was so close now. Sky blue seemed fixated on her.

A switch clicked. A grin slowly dawned on his face, "Ah, there's the switch for the stove-top." The other free hand had gone around her and reached for the controls. Corran drew back slowly and finished circling around the doctor. Releasing the grip on her waist, the young man traded it for the mixing bowl and began pouring circular globs onto a heating griddle. "If you'd like you can help me cook or you can take a seat at the table and I'll bring you a fresh cup of caf to go with breakfast." A blue pancake was flipped over on the other side. Then another. "I have my preference, but you already know that," A welcoming smirk on Corran's face punctuated the sentence. Regardless of the choice made, the young man would continue preparing the pastries. A heavenly smell of butter, batter, and syrup wafted through the common area. Soft sizzles filled the kitchenette every time the blue mixture was applied or tossed over. Spartan, simple plates were pulled from secured cupboards and another mug was placed in the caf maker. Once a sufficient pile of the flat cakes were prepared, they were covered in a tasteful amount of syrup, sprinkled with powered sugar, and topped with some purple berries for accented flavor. The sweetness would contrast with the somewhat more bitter taste of caf.

The Ranger set the plates down, along with silverware, on the table and would sit opposite Ilana in the semi-circular booth. The food had warm, sweet-smelling air wafting off the platters that mixed with the warm scent of fresh brewed caf. "You'll have to tell me how it tastes," Corran said, welcoming his guest to partake.

After a few bites, to which the young man himself seemed satisfied with, and a swing of water to wash it down, the blond youth leaned over his plate and hovered a fork over the blue milk pancakes. Clearly a thought on the tip of his tongue. He glanced between the plate and Ilana, before settling on gazing at the middle of the table between them. "I... uh, I really do appreciate that you stayed. Both last night and... today. Doubly so since you travel so much for your... job" A clear bashfulness was in his voice, along with an attempt to repress it. "I don't have company often. It's been really... nice." Blue eyes that had avoided contact finally looked up, anticipating a response or reaction, even if there wasn't one. For the entire time Doctor Morata had been on the Crimson Venture, no astromechs, no droids of any kind were seen. No additional crew. No one, but those in the confines of the brig. For all the hours and days a YT-1300 would be travelling the stars, Corran was alone.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Her eyes widened, and she fought the urge to step back and get some space. Why was he leaning in that closely? She tensed at the sudden warmth of a hand on her waist... and then seeing the teasing smirk, gave a small huff, then lightly swatted him on the arm. "I'll move," she rasped, but for some reason, she was equal parts relieved and disappointed.

"Sounds like a deal," she replied airily, attempting to reach the same level of levity that he seemed to pick up so easily. Instead, she closed her eyes, savoring the wholesome smells both sweet and bitter, of the caf and the frying batter both. She was very selective of quality of food; most cuisine qualities of the galaxy suffered for her keen sense of smell and taste, but this was different. So his words weren't just words... briefly, she wondered if his mother was as good as he claimed. And if her son was any indication... she would perhaps be a formidable woman to meet if she was that good an influence.

She had been drifting slightly, still worn from the sudden wakeup and the chase, waking up at the gentle sounds of plates on the table, and she nodded once, taking a bite.

Her shoulders relaxed, and a faint grin touched the corners of her lips as she glanced up at him, fork poised with her next bite. "Really good. If you didn't already have a job, I'd hire you to cook for me." Was she teasing him? Though there was a rare glimmer of amusement sparkling in amber eyes, there also seemed a spark of earnestness to it. It wasn't often she ate anything good.

Hearing his hesitant words, she looked up, mid-bite, to listen. He was looking down, but when he finally glanced up she gave a small nod, swallowing before responding. When she did, her voice was low, soft, gaze equally as gentle as she reached out, resting a hand lightly over his own for a brief moment before withdrawing. "I'm glad I stayed as well."

She could have left at any time, but for reasons she couldn't quite puzzle out herself, she had stayed. And more than that, he seemed a rare, genuine person with several mysteries of his own lurking beneath the surface. Both the physician and the woman were curious, but it was more than compulsion. There was also the brief request from him.. but she had something to ask in return.

"If I accept your proposition to join the rangers..." she spoke quietly, pausing from cutting up another bite to meet his gaze once more, "I do it with a proposition of my own."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

If they didn’t already have a life-threatening experience today, one would not have guessed the two were still on the criminally dangerous moon of Nar Shaddaa. Where before they were decisive, serious, and even violent; here, in this little common area of an ancient starship, they were youthful, jovial, and witty. A temporary, fleeting oasis in a galaxy of problems. Good food, good company, and carefree times. Corran was no dreamer, however. He knew things like this didn't last. But... he also knew you had to enjoy while they were here. When Ilana took her revenge and teased him back about becoming her chef, he chuckled. The Arkanian must be an incredible doctor but a terrible business woman. Why pay for something she was getting for free?

A gentle touch of their hands. It was a little thing, and brief, but it said much. Her hand resting on his was a type of naked honesty that was still rare between them, but welcomed. In the short span of time the two had spent together, gaps had been bridged. He hid behind a badge, like a shield, and bulwarked with rules and regulations. She with methodical and calculating distance. Just as Corran helped the friendly, personable Ilana out beyond the sterile doctor’s world, she pulled the energetic and congenial man out from behind the Ranger persona. When she was comforting, she was at her best, he thought.

The blond youth had just finished swallowing another morsel of pancake when the Arkanian brought up his offering of joining the Sector Rangers. All he had asked was her to think on it. If she had a proposition, as she called it, Ilana clearly had. Corran set down his fork on the plate softly and propped up his elbows on the table; hiding his mouth behind interlaced fingers. A clear indication that the doctor had garnered his complete attention. Sky blue scanned her features, as if looking for a clue to materialize in her eyes. “I’m listening. What do you have in mind?” The trader-turned-Ranger was clearly enticed, but hesitant to commit to something without knowing more. His personal decisions and values were of his make and creed, but professional conduct regarding the Sector Ranger organization required a bit more careful restraint.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She sat up straighter, grateful he took this seriously, despite the less-than-professional settings. This consideration came with great risk... but didn't great risk come with great reward, as the saying would go? She sat up straighter, fork lowered to her plate and pose at ease, despite the gravity of the choice she was making. "I want to work with you, as a consulting physician, but also as a primary medic for your network." All joviality was gone, replaced with a calm stare.

"When you work for mobs for so long, you realize a life can be snuffed out and nobody will bat an eye. I want to have more than just... today." For just a moment, sadness flickered in her eyes; Kai came to mind, and passing soon after that emotion came a slight tightening of her jaw in resolution. No. She was done with grieving for herself and the vast emptiness; seeing Keela changed a few things for her. Namely...

If she could change the probability of her future, why not the Doctor? Finally a chance at some stable work, decent pay, not worrying about being thrashed for assisting a rival gang member or always walking on eggshells. Perhaps now she had a chance for something more than just being the mob doctor.

There was a real chance of becoming legit. And that was tantalizing... but...

"My only question is, would you be able to make that happen, and what would you want in exchange?" She gave him a level stare, waiting for his own thoughts on the matter.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

As she took on the image of professional poise, the Ranger remained and matched in stature. All the twitterpated feelings had been subdued and forced from the room. When it came to his work, nothing was more consequential. At the request of consulting physican and primary medic for their network, Corran cocked an eyebrow. Would that mean she would be supporting the field deployed Ranger units, but not of the organization? Many other groups did similar things. The Coruscant government and parts of the Free Worlds Alliance had their security services tightly integrated with the Sector Rangers. Ilana would maintain that freedom she cherished.

The reasons were more personal than he expected. To want a future. Live beyond the next day. It wasn’t expressly stated, but Corran felt a want to have people around that didn’t only care for credits was also there. To have people who had the doctor’s back because they wanted to and betrayal a distant impossibility. Her snow-white jaw clenched. The Arkanian was wrestling with something, but unlike her, Corran lacked her clairvoyant abilities. Instead, patience was the only option.

Amber eyes stared in want of answers. The blond youth stared back; eyes distracted by the thoughts in his head. He leaned into his interlaced fingers, mouth resting on his thumbs. When he enlisted with the extra-judicial force, it all had been so easy. A short background check that found nothing of illicit note. References that spoke to his character. The Rangers were always eager for more manpower. Was there anything in her past, her person, that would damage the credibility of the Sector Rangers? Even unwittingly, could she be an infiltration point for organized crime? If he nominated her, his own name attached, would it be enough?

Corran closed his eye lids slowly. Looking inward required greater concentration. Even if everything else went well, the young man had his own personal… concerns.

Would she be a formal Sector Ranger, with a badge? Corran felt it unprofessional to be... involved... with fellow officers of the law. He wasn't cold with the others. Lorcan, Bast, Falynn... he cared for them, some deeper than others. But the woman that sat across from him was more intimate than any. On the other hand, it would mean that Ilana could take her first steps in getting out from under the brutal criminal underworld. Would he sacrifice his personal feelings to give her a chance at a new life?

Yes. If he must. She deserved everything.

Blue eyes opened and examined the doctor for a brief moment. He unlocked his hands and sat upright. "I'm not an officer or anyone of major import among the Sector Rangers. I only have my credibility and respect earned from my service," his voice sounded dry, rough, "At great cost." It had cost others more. Some of them, everything. "I can handle any paperwork and request your attachment to the Rangers and use myself as your nominating reference."

The second question was more weighty. As heavy as durasteel plate on Carida. As soon as he spoke, the Ranger knew the investigation would begin. Even if it began simply or with ease. Even if it was short or prolonged. Something between them would change. What it was and how it would change them remained to be seen. He hated the uncertainty. These fleeting moments of quiet were the last of a time the young man wanted to cherish. Before a brief era of bliss ended. It was time to begin.

"I've never wanted anything from you that wasn't freely given, Ilana," Corran paused, preparing himself for what came next, "But the Sector Rangers expect to know your past. Your deeds. For their own security and their virtues. If I'm to stand by you, and I want to, I need to know... if there's anything in your past or present that..." The voice trailed off. Attempted indifference failed against the will of his affections for her - and not just the romantic kind. Corran glanced away, hoping someone else would take this burden. But there was no one else to bear it. He cleared his throat, "I worked with a man with a troubled past. Ranger Lorcan. He worked for gangs. He stole. He killed. We were opposites in every way. Yet... I owe him my life, twice over. Rough as he was, Lorcan made me believe people could be changed. Redeemed."

Everything worthwhile came at a cost. The young man from Commenor had paid so many for things he sought for. Most came easily or only at risk to himself. He had feared that Doctor Morata's underworld connections, and the longevity of them, meant she might have done things he didn't want to admit were possible for her. Her wintery skin gave her an aura of innocence. When looking at her, it was easy to force that fear away. Now, like blaster fire, he had to face it.

"Is there anything I need to know, Ilana?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Hesitation, uncertainty. Even discomfort. An empath didn't need to be in the room for these emotions to be palpable. She nodded once, simply, at his being her applying reference. But he agreed to her terms... just like that? Perhaps she should have asked for more. But there was also the very real risk of her past affecting him on a personal level, and though they were both new to one another in many ways, putting him at risk was something she wanted to avoid as much as possible.

So she listened.

At the name of Lorcan, her brows visibly raised. Worked. Past tense. So perhaps the young man knew him... ah. He saved his life. At the mention of killing, she shifted once, but nodded.

So many instances of her past flicked up to mind. Names, faces of people from her past that would be brought to the surface sooner or later. She could understand his trepidation, was even grateful to know he felt anything at all... there was some comfort in knowing that he at least cared enough to be unhappy with this line of questioning.

Was there anything he needed to know. Force, what a heavy, loaded question that was. He would judge her for her past. Its' many stains and ugly sins. The dark that lurked beneath pale skin, and the sharp teeth of survival keeping her above so many others that she buried. "I know Lorcan," was her first answer, sipping at her caf calmly. "He requested my help, before... and I gave medical advice. We investigated an underground gene mod business. I did not kill a single person... he is brutal, and efficient, I will give him that." She took another sip of caf, now growing cool.

But as for the rest...

"Malakai Beck."

Even saying the name was like a heavy stone, a weight that dropped from her lips. She could still see that stupid skelly, dressed with that ridiculous topknot and a cigara. Grief stung deep in her chest, and her hands clenched around her mug, blinking back the many emotions that crowded to the surface. Rage. Despair. Grief. Loss. Loathing.

"...A former patient. I worked for him, for extra credits to acquire something... at the time, I did not know he was Force Sensitive. A Sith." The words hit hard, but she watched him levelly. Let him judge her, she was tired of secrets and holding back. If he pushed her away... she would deal with it somehow. But for some reason, there was a heavy weight in her chest just considering it. "We stole a book." Her shoulders tensed, expecting emotional backlash, anger, disbelief, or even disgust. Haunted golden eyes flickered up, suddenly worn out. "The book was returned... and Kai is..."

She swallowed hard, eyes closing briefly as her face briefly twisted in pain, exhaling sharply through her nose. "He's dead. I have no idea how or why... but he was a... friend. Someone who seemed to consider me a person." She exhaled shakily, her clenched hands beginning to tremble. "At the time, I wanted answers. Why I could feel every emotion in the room like it was my own, why I could feel things or sense bad before it happened. Now I know why, and I don't want it."

She lifted the cup of caf as though to drink from it, but her hands trembled. She felt numb, cold, all her secrets laid bare and letting him see every facet. A lost woman, trying always to scrabble her way upright and getting thrust back down. A doctor, finding her place in the world of science at odds at the abilities she had, always second-guessing her own judgement. Never belonging.

"I want to do more than be a pawn," she murmured, head lowered into her hands, the base of her palms pressing into the ridge of her brows. White hair curtained down around her hands. "I just... don't want any secrets between us. You deserve far better than that."

If he pushed her away, it would hurt, and it would ache, but she would deal with it. She wasn't new to being broken. But picking up the pieces was always harder... and if she were part of that world, doubly difficult. She could be a professional. But for once, part of her didn't want to be one.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

It started with hope. She knew Lorcan! Brutal and efficient – the most apt description of the rough Ranger; she had met him for certain. Was he alright? Why had he gone off the grid? No, it sounded like it was awhile back. Corran hadn’t seen the wayward man since that horrible crash landing on Dxun. When they got off the shuttles, it was like Lorcan had vanished. Well, at least he was still out there, though getting into trouble by the sound of it. A relief of weight eased mildly from the blond youth’s chest when Ilana said she hadn’t killed a single person. At least with Lorcan.

Then came curiosity. Malakai Beck. This was a new name. Someone he didn’t know nor ever heard of before. Whoever he was, the being still had influence on the Arkanian. The way she said his name… so much was there. So much that it couldn’t be parsed out or, at least, Corran couldn’t. Ilana described the former patient, worked to get some extra credits, to get some something…

Stupefaction replaced curiosity. Where emotions would be, a void took hold. They had been sucked into a black hole of utter shock. It was so overwhelming that the Ranger barely even registered that Ilana admitted to stealing a book and returning it. She worked for a Force-user. Not only that, but a Sith. The absolute worst kind. The ones who slaughtered on the HoloNet for billions to watch. Anger did not come. Like the doctor’s touch, it was cooled by the thought she didn’t know.

Stupefaction became… emptiness. Nothing had come to take up the space where emotions would rest. Malakai Beck was dead. Corran didn’t even have the ability to feel satisfaction or comfort in that truth, as Ilana was close to the Sith. He made her feel like… how Corran wanted to make her feel. An immature twinge of jealousy rose and fell in the blink of an eye. It was only then that the Ranger noticed that practical explanation had transcended into personal, deep admission. The Arkanian trembled, giving into exhaustion of laying her face into her hands. She spoke of all the things she wanted. Answers. Freedom. Trust.

Professional discipline and personal fondness worked together as a bulwark against powerful emotions. Anger at Beck for attempting to corrupt. Anger at himself for thinking it would be simple, like a fairy tale. Remorse of all the things the doctor had endured. Fear that she would flee from this place – and him. Uncertainty what it all meant.

But through the efforts of his own will, those powerful emotions were suppressed. His own will and that of an emotion he was feeling more than all the others, one that overcast and smothered any and all before it - heartfelt affection. Corran wanted to rush over to her. Embrace her. Hold her. At least lay his hand on hers. Ilana deserved everything she wanted. Deserved to not be a piece in the games of power. Deserved answers. Deserved to belong. But he couldn’t express that. The young man was acting in the official capacity of a Ranger now, representing the organization. Hands tightened a grip on his thighs, venting through the restraint.

All the young man could pray for was that her abilities could sense his intent. Not to drive her away, but to bring her close. Even if she had done wrong. Even if she had skirted the law, playing in the grey zones of morality. Ilana was fighting for a second chance right now. While others fled, she confessed. What else is there to see intent?

Her abilities. Why she befriended Malakai Beck. It wasn’t said outright, but how she said things… feel things, sense events before they happen. Jedi spoke that way. The blond youth’s throat constricted. The burden had grown immense. He didn’t want to proceed with questions; with investigating, but he had to. It was his duty.

“Are… are you a Force-user?” Corran’s voice was weak, almost a whisper. Like the question itself was afraid to be uttered, in fear of the answer.

@Killa Ree