Ask Nar Shaddaa Another World

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She just sat there, taking it all in. Relief, followed by shock. Then anger, jealousy, remorse, fear. But the thing that made her lift her head up from her hands was feeling affection, and her eyes were wide in surprise. Even despite his stoic expression, he cared. Amber eyes met those of blue, features still bleak with emotion. What followed on its' heels was regret, so at least she had a little bit of time to brace in time for the question.

At his tone, her eyes dropped, hands falling palm-down to the table. For just a brief moment, she chewed on her bottom lip, uncertain of what to say precisely. He was afraid to know the answer; and well he should. She could lie, or tell a half-truth, but she just didn't see the value in it. After a few more beats, and she exhaled slowly, glancing up to his face.

"Not by choice," she finally admitted quietly, white brows denting with a faint, sorrowful half-smile. "If I had a way to live without it... I'd take it in a heartbeat. It's a curse. Do you think me any less for it?" She shook her head slightly, gaze lowering.

"Forget it. I'm too much of a risk for you, I can see it already," she rasped quietly. "Being my reference would be a great risk for you... and I don't want to risk you, or force you into a position you're not comfortable with." She spoke this with surprising gentleness, hesitating slightly before continuing. "You're good... far better than the many I've met in my lifetime. I.. would hate to make your life, professional or otherwise... a misery." She gazed up at him calmly, resigned. "So... it's alright if you reject my offer, based on the evidence of my past. But my offer still stands, if not affiliated directly with the Rangers... but to do what I can to help."

Even though she didn't feel like she could swallow anything, or even taste any more of the food before them, she forced herself to take a sip of caf, to do something while she waited out his silence and judgement.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

An answer said in the best possible way was still as crushing. A black whole sucked the emotion out of the young man's eyes. Totally blank. Ilana was not like him. Beyond all the things that made her... different, she was almost on entire plane of existence. Corran was normal. One of the trillions who lived and died everyday with only their organic abilities. Ilana... she had powers beyond comprehension. All the legends the galaxy knew about Force-users, she was capable of. Had she used them on others? How potent was her power? Had she... influenced him? Corran always felt the beautiful, intelligent, and alluring Arkanian doctor was on a pedestal above him, but attainable. Now there was a chasm. They were two distinct beings.

And yet she said she didn't want it. It wasn't a choice. She had been encumbered with it at birth, like so many countless others. Even that admission was unique. All Force-users Corran had interacted with were arrogant and self-righteous Jedi zealots or dangerous and vile Sith extremists. Ilana had joined neither. The blond youth hadn't even been aware that was an option. It was so ingrained in galactic culture and history that if you were burden with Force abilities, one had to join one of the various cults that plagued the galaxy in their constant strife. Even in this, the Arkanian was different. Better. Perhaps she was the exemplar of a galaxy Corran dreamed of. Force-users without their wars. Harmony with those without.

No, he didn't think of her any less. He respected her even more.

After all was said, the male Ranger felt the powerful, exhausted amber gaze rest upon him. How could he turn away, as a Sector Ranger, from someone asking for a hand-up? The great irony was the memorization of orders, edicts, and guidelines that provided the best possible solution for the doctor. "There is a program that might fit what you are looking for," the serious Ranger replied in a voice of slowly dawning discovery, "the Affiliate Task Force policy." He slowly inhaled through barely parted lips, letting his eyes drift to the far wall before bringing them back to focus. "It allows non-Rangers to act in tandem with our organization, utilizing our connections and resources, with the approval or partnership with a Sector Ranger contact. You wouldn't get a badge, but you could come and go as you pleased. The background check is less thorough and mostly relies on the partnered Ranger to act on behalf of the greater organization." The policy had been created to allow the now defunct Jedi-Ranger Task Force to combat the Sith raids in the Core Worlds. Corran was offering a loop-hole from a system he originally detested. It was poetic in a way. With the official designation as Ranger Affiliate, Dr. Morata would be offered a way out from under the mobs she was tethered to. She wouldn't be beholden to Sector Ranger Command and could depart or disassociate at any time - like the Jedi had. It was real freedom; not trading one master for another. If she worked with a Ranger, she would be doing it officially, under proper jurisdiction. Because it didn't require a badge, the doctor could also keep the shift in loyalties a secret from the worst of her criminal connections, reducing risk to herself and others.

Even if it was a near perfect practical solution, it wasn't a personal one. All of the truth would take time to digest. If the policy helped get someone out of organized crime, Corran had done his duty as a Ranger. A legal and ethical good. In a way, Ilana would also be repaying a debt to society for any ills related to her actions. But how could he reconcile the Ilana he... he liked and the one he knew now? Were they ever different? Had he only seen what he wanted to see?

The Ranger rose from the booth, using his hands to push off the table. A few paces separated them and his back was to the doctor. Hands clasped behind his back, squeezing tightly together. He couldn't face her directly. Not out of shame or disgust, but his own weakness. He wanted to offer to help as a professional, not as a young man looking to keep his feelings intact. Ilana wasn't a prize to be kept. If she gained Affiliate status, would she shift into the same professional barrier that kept all his coworkers at a distance?

Corran's shoulders tensed up visibly, before decompressing like a hydraulic pump. A gentle voice clawed through the law enforcer persona, "You... aren't a misery to me, Ilana. You're not a burden. You're wanted. Even... even now." A few beats of silence followed by the man being suppressed by the Ranger and he about-faced to look at her again, hands still behind his back. Face stoic, eyes holding back a dam of expression. "What do you think? If deemed acceptable, I can process an application on the Affiliate status when I return to the Free Worlds jurisdiction."

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

This program... interesting. But though professionally it made sense, personally there was something else lurking there. It could mean they would work together... if they did, however, there was a chance he would give her professional courtesy. She wasn't certain she would enjoy that, as much as she enjoyed professionalism within a certain setting, this felt... personal, somehow. He saw her differently.

At hearing he wanted her still, she stilled, her breath leaving her in a silent rush. Her hands had gone frigid without realizing it, and there felt like there was no air in the room when he got up and walked away. When he turned around again, she merely nodded once in silent reply, then slowly stood as well.

"You're still wanted, as well... if you'd have me," she spoke quietly. "And the next time we meet... allow me to cook dinner." She was sidestepping the professionalism for now, a move on her part that felt... wrong. Yet freeing, oddly exhilirating in its' own way. She was completely out of her comfort zone, unsure where to step next, and so was he.

Yet he was still helping her, even after everything she said. She would help as much as she could, given the extent of her own abilities... but she doubted he would trust her after this, or even want her around after the door would close. She hesitated to leave, simply because it felt wrong to.

So she would wait, but he would already see acceptance in her own eyes. But that then left the question of how to go forward. She took a slow breath in, then held out her hand to him. "I'm done living in the past. I want a clean slate, and a step forward. I'd prefer it with you, if..." she faltered, then cleared her throat, her voice soft. "...if you'd mind."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

As she rose from the table, his eyes followed her. Even when she didn't intend to be, the wintery Arkanian appeared so elegant. Instead of replying outright to the Affiliate option, she chose instead to seek more personal answers. She still felt for him? After the forced investigating into her past? Prying open her secrets? The offer of dinner caused a noticeable and curious reaction. The Ranger's face kept complete composure; an exemplar of rigid discipline and self-control. That is, except the slowly growing pink near his cheek bones. Once again, Ilana had punctured through the armor with scalpel precision. An innocent thought wondered if he'd ever find a way to shore up his defenses. Another one queried if he ever wanted to.

Her eyes seemed to express a knowing acceptance of the offer. The flushed crimson began to recede. That was it then. Ilana was going to take her first steps down a different path. One of her own choosing. While the path forward for their work became clear, their path together became more shrouded in the unknown and uncertain. In his entire life, Corran maintained an absolute boundary between professional and personal existences. As a Sector Ranger, the professional had consumed nearly all of him. That is until... a fateful evening on Corellia. Could those two existences coexist? Even with what he knew about the doctor?

As if to tempt fate, Ilana held out an ethereal white hand to him. A silent, quick inhale slid between his barely parted lips. When they first returned to the ship, the young man had no qualms embracing the lovely doctor. In such a short time, an extended hand caused hesitation. A clean slate. A step forward. These words eased the Ranger. These are things he could agree to. A single step forward followed. Corran reached out and clasped Ilana's hand. His grip was more assured than his thoughts. Ilana acted as a gravity well, drawing the blond youth into her orbit. Without a thought, he was standing close to her. "I wouldn't mind," he said in a matching soft tone, "I wouldn't mind it at all." The Ranger persona melted away, unable to withstand the snowy woman's will. A grin tugged at the corner of Corran's mouth.

A lingering weight held firm at the back of the Ranger's mind. An unheeded warning, easily ignored in the powerful presence of Doctor Morata. What the future held was unclear and how the young man would truly respond to changing events. But today, like the night before, it didn't matter. Ilana wasn't a Ranger or an Affiliate. She was a woman and Corran was a man. For now, nothing impeded what felt right.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

The Ranger was... remarkably cute when he started blushing like that. At first, she thought she would have to leave; aside from the blushing, he seemed every inch the professional, and if it weren't for the emotions he exuded, she would have. But they gave her pause. For the first time... she felt a sharp burst of relief, particularly at his smile.

Briefly, she felt envious of that youth of his. There was still that optimism of good in people, he wasn't yet numb to all the cruelties of the galaxy and for some reason she felt a keen need to protect that as long as possible. But he was an ambitious young man; she would support that ambition as long as she could.

She closed the small gap, giving a nod. "Good," she replied quietly, then leaned up to lightly press her lips against his cheek. "But I know you have work, so I'll wait. When you're free, I meant it about that dinner. An offer for me to cook for you, on my day off." She sighed then, and gave a small, rare smile.

"However, I'd hate to waste a good breakfast. Care to join me?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A kiss on the cheek vanquished the last vestiges of the rigid Ranger mentality. It felt... different than others she'd shared with him. More sweet. Between the icy, serious, methodical Dr. Morata and the flirtatious, affable, but still cold Ilana, Corran wasn't quite sure which one he liked more. Right now, he had a preference for the kittenish flavor. A sincere laugh emerged from the young man, "When I'm free? On the same day you have a day off? Might as well pencil that evening in on the same day a black hole collides with a super nova." It was all in good humor, but it did contain a bit of clever wording to allow her to get out of the date if she wanted. It was a date, right? He could call it that? Best not to think about it lest he beclown himself.

In the intense conversation earlier, Corran had nearly lost his appetite. Nearly. Blue Milk pancakes like mom use to make, even lukewarm, were too delicious to pass up. The company made continuing breakfast that much more enticing. "More than care. I'd love to," the young man teased in reply. He took the seat opposite the doctor in the semi-circular booth and waited for her to join before indulging in a few more bites of the nostalgic food of his childhood.

The Ranger often focused on the next immediate goal or the long-term plan in his life. As long as he stuck to his oath and his morals, how those objectives were achieved mattered little as long as they were complected as soon as possible in the most efficient way. Everything else in between was a hurdle or a hindrance to getting farther or getting things done. As the two dined on a homey meal of pancakes, on a moon that Corran detested for what it represented, something dawned on him. Ilana was teaching him something. Maybe unintentionally. The journey, even the pauses along the way, can be as enjoyable or as satisfying as reaching the goal itself. Any other mission, he would have blasted off this rock without a second thought and reassigned to the next case file without rest. Instead, Ilana paused the galaxy; at least for a little while. Sky blue eyes lifted up from Corran's plate to sneak a lingering glance at the Arkanian doctor. Not to admire her beauty or grab her attention, but to appreciate her. Appreciate this. One of the stops along a journey.

Breakfast was pleasant. After scarfing down a fair share of the blue pastries, the blond youth would pat his stomach with satisfaction, "I don't know why, but those tasted better than they ever have to me." He gestured to Ilana's plate and mug, "Is there anything else I can get you? Anything for the road?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She perked a brow at his statement, then a slight smirk touched on her lips. "Fine. Then I'll make time if I have to. It's a date, then." It was true; they were both busy individuals with their own lives and professions, and even though there was a possible joint future ahead, she wasn't going to count on that taking time off from her own, or his own, schedule. However, even she found a time to relax and enjoy herself. In just what ways, perhaps even the Ranger wouldn't be able to guess.

She managed to eat fairly quickly; no doubt his cargo would be anxious to get out once they were safely in New Republic hands. And she herself had a call out in the Deep Core; a repeat patient, actually, and one she liked the company of in short doses. This was nice... this ability to slow down once in a while, to no longer feel the whisper of secrets hidden at her back.

You've still got secrets... a voice whispered sibilantly in her head, and behind Corran there seemed a flicker of a flame, like the lit tip of a cigara. It isn't over yet, Doc. Turn on us, it'll bite sooner rather than later. Enjoy the pretty boy while you can, but it'll catch up to you one day. Wait and see. And just like that, the flame flickered out.

When he glanced up at her, she met his eyes, and merely smiled slightly, taking another sip of caf. At his question of getting her anything else, she merely briefly shook her head, slowly rising. "I'm not usually able to enjoy..." a hand gestured to the table, encompassing the meal but also, the time of it. "But it was the nicest one I've had in years."

Briefly, her mind flickered back to the last time she had a sit-down breakfast. A long, white table in a large, white marble dining room. Her mother, perched on one end, a paragon of Arkanian enhancement and refinement. Outlining how precisely Ilana was cut from her will, and thus cut from her life forever. A far cry from this.. and for that she was grateful. He didn't enjoy bringing up her past demons, she wouldn't hold any grudge on that. And more importantly, he was giving her a step into the life she wanted since taking her first assignment on a Corellian deep-mission ship.

"Allow me to wash dishes at least," she commented lightly, standing, "and take some caf to go. It'll be a long trip to the Core, it'll give me a head start."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

They were more alike than she knew. What she had said about their meal together; it resonated with the young man. It had been the nicest one he’d had in years too. Though, perhaps for different reasons. While aboard the merchant fleet, food was whatever slop was served in the mess hall. Whatever took up the least space and could be cooked in mass. As a Sector Ranger, there never was an incentive to prepare meals. Whatever took the least amount of time or what was practical. Corran had attempted to rekindle the magic by cooking elaborate breakfasts by himself, but it never felt the same. It didn’t feel like when him and his mother cooked together. Even after his dad… passed. The smells, the taste, the feeling – all the things that couldn’t be found in a recipe. Making it with Ilana, for her, recaptured that. It was like those nostalgic mornings in his youth. Maybe the magic wasn’t how the pancakes were made, but with who.

“Yeah. Same goes for me. I’m thankful you gave me the opportunity,” Corran replied in gratitude. The young man tipped back one last drink of water to perish off the cup he’d been sipping from. He rose from the booth seat to instinctively grab the dirty plates and utensils (he was often the only one to clean up after) but Ilana claimed the duty first. Corran blinked a few times, letting his ears process what he just heard. “Should I add ‘home-maker’ to the list of other descriptions about you?” He asked in clear jest. “The cunning, dangerous, intelligent black-market Dr. Morata in a cute little apron.” His imagination actually supplied a thought that was pretty cute.

Even if she volunteered to wash the dishes, Corran cleaned up the table and brought them over to the small sink in the kitchenette. He pulled thermos from a secure cupboard and adjusted the caf machine to begin filling it up with drops of the life-blood of hard workers. With that started, he grabbed a towel and joined the Arkanian doctor by the sink, “I’ll meet you halfway. I’ll dry and put them away.” The young man would have felt awkward standing there as someone else cleaned messy plates. Not to mention, Ilana didn’t know where to put things away and he had everything organized in its own logical place. On the other hand, it was a nice excuse to stand close by her for a little longer.

With dishes done, dried, and put away, so too vanished any excuse for the two to remain together. The caf machine chimed pleasantly and Corran removed the thermos and gingerly screwed on the cap. Depending how quickly she downed the stuff, it would keep for a while. He slowly walked over to the low hallway that led to the exit ramp and stopped in the circular archway near the controls that operated the hydraulics. If she approached, he would lift the thermos temptingly out of reach and lean in close towards her, “Do I get anything for the road?” That boyish grin reared its immature head again.

Nothing was expected, but it was hoped for. All Ilana had to do was glare at the blond youth with those powerful amber eyes and he would surrender the thermos. It really wasn’t about trying to make a trade or even to tease. The Arkanian doctor would soon be aboard a speeder headed to her own ship. The Ranger would pay his platform rent fees and get clearance to launch. The pair would take off in the dark void of space and never really know when they’d see each other again. Corran was just a boy chasing a woman that was out of his league. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the chase.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She perked a brow at his comment of being a 'domestic' type, starting up the hot water cycle for the sink. "You tell anyone, I'll deny it. Even the 'cute apron'," she replied, golden eyes glittering. But still a faint smile lurked on the corners of her lips, threatening to be a full smile.

It was rather nice, standing there with a sink full of dishes, feeling the light accidental brushes of hands, his warmth within close proximity. Easy. But she had a feeling he would be easy to get along with just about anyone... she wasn't special in this regard, perhaps. But she could enjoy it. She usually washed as soon as she was done cooking or eating anyhow; far easier to manage right then than to wait to clean up later.

Soon, almost too soon, it was time to leave. She picked up her dress, stashed in her medical bag, and shrugged on her armored coat once more.

When he teased her, using his height and reach to keep the thermos out of the way, she chuckled. It was a low, warm sound, almost alien to the Arkanian Offshoot. She leaned up slowly, standing up on her toes. Eyes half-lidded, she pressed against him, just barely brushing, angling her head as though to brush him the lightest kiss, an arm around his shoulders as though to pull him closer.

"Teasing a 'cunning, dangerous, intelligent black-market Doctor' with caf?" came the low murmur, lips ever so much closer. "Deadly game there, Ranger..." she half-whispered, pausing.

When his arm was low enough, she plucked it out with the other hand, leaning back. Amber eyes glittered triumphantly, her voice a low, intimate rasp. "Lucky for you, I think you're a worthy temptation to be teased by." She then leaned up, pressing a brief, passionate kiss and then stepping back once more, pressing the button for the ramp to lower and stride through, her ride waiting.

"Til next time, Ranger Corran," she tossed over a shoulder, giving him a sly smile and then turning away.

Perhaps they would meet again. In many ways, she hoped for sooner rather than later... and she could hardly wait.

//End Thread.

@TerranSteel