Ask Corellia Doctors Without Boundaries

Corran Velt

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Cover him? Oh. She meant examine and patch up his wounds. That wasn't how he intended for this to go. Ilana had turned the very regulations he cited around on him and implied that if he refused treatment, she could as well. The Arkanian had outfoxed him. Upon realization, the blond youth's eyes became half-lidded and a twitch of his eyebrow suggested his annoyance. "Agreed," he surrendered in a dry tone, barely hiding his vexation. Corran had gone to great lengths to avoid using Doctor Morata's talents as a medical professional on himself. Mostly because she said that's how the universe saw her - as a service to be paid for. He wanted to prove he liked Ilana around for her, the individual. A secondary point was... the blond youth wasn't a very good patient and he didn't want the doctor to know that. Corran would have to build up all the courage he could muster.

But first, the Ranger must see to the Affiliate's injuries. The armored coat had done pretty well, given that Corran didn't have much faith in it before. It looked more stylish than practical from his perspective. In this instance, he was glad to be proven one. Some of the lethal energy still made it through and scorched the snowy-white flesh beneath. It was almost a similar red to the one on her cheek prior, funnily enough. The Ranger took his time examining the wounded area, peering at it from different angles and thinking through his options, even as Doctor Morata gave him rudimentary instructs that almost anyone could follow. The sleeve would have to be cut away; no point in trying to salvage it. Taking the shirt off, up and over her head, would be a nuisance and likely cause discomfort to the shoulder. "I think I can handle this," Corran confirmed to his patient.

One by one, the young man set out the necessary tools and liquids in the order they would be utilized on the desk. First, the scissors were used to cut away the sleeve. This took a bit more time than one would expect as the young man was exceedingly careful, the determined focus clear on his face as he squinted and paused to make sure the cuts were precise. It was curious how even with a burn, the wintery woman's skin was still cold. Next came washing the wound, which the blond youth gingerly brushed off the carbon ash that burnt through the armor and residue of the shirt. Finally came the bacta, which was applied methodically before a cover-bandage was applied in the same precise and overly-focused way as the one on Ilana's cheek on the Smuggler's Moon. Throughout the entire process, sky blue eyes would periodically look up for approval or discomfort. To his credit, there were no thoughts beyond providing the aid. Emotions were placid, which was somewhat intentional for the Arkanian.

The Ranger stood at his full height and sighed with satisfaction, releasing some of his own tension, "There. How'd I do?" In the field or space naval actions, Corran was much quicker in applying aid. Although, slapping a bacta patch on a graze or open wound was more crude and entirely meant to be temporary. With Ilana... it was more of an art. His medical skill would never impress, especially someone as talented as an actual doctor like her, but his degree of care might be noteworthy.

If the bandaging was satisfactory, it was Corran's turn. It was something he wasn't looking forward to. Like a man walking to the gallows, he would lean against the desk that now doubled as an ad-hoc examination table. Anxiousness began to bubble up in his chest. The empath would be able to feel it and the young man knew it. It was best to explain to save them both some trouble, even if he hated it. His eyes resolutely stared at the doctor, "Just be gentle. I don't like my ouchies being touched." The Ranger's face was stone-cold serious and voice gravelly. "They hurt."

@Killa Ree
 

Dr Ilana Morata

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Throughout the procedure, she deliberately kept her features calm, only pulling an occasional hissed intake of breath through her teeth, or gritting her jaw at the careful application of bacta. She knew the shirt sleeve couldn't be salvaged, but it was a nice one, and she was a little annoyed that the person who shot her had managed to get her at that particular angle. The warmth of his hands made her nostrils flare slightly, but her eyes closed, keeping her breathing steady while he worked.

At the final stage of applying the bandage, the mild painkiller laced in the bacta did its' work enough to no longer impede her shoulder movement. And the armor was salvageable.
"You did well," came her low rasp in response, opening up her eyes to look at his own, even allowing a faint smile. Though perhaps he was far more ginger about it than she would have permitted if he was her graduate student or a resident.

But that could always be addressed later.

However, she was impressed as far as someone untrained in any medical field expertise did it so well, and so neatly. Her skin still felt faintly warm from being touched, but she brushed such thoughts aside for now.

Instead, she shrugged her coat back on, but the threads of his anxiety were like red strings, tugging at her mind and causing her to tilt her head at him questioningly. Seeing his stony-eyed stare, she watched with a cool-eyed stare in return...

But it nearly cracked at his calling them 'ouchies'.

She exhaled slowly, then considered her options. Previously, she would have simply insisted on treatment and left without any consideration of personal comfort. But he was different. And though his words seemed strangely childish, coming from a Ranger who was becoming a veteran to combat and pain... she could acknowledge the anxiety behind more pain being there. Even the most grizzled gangsters of the galaxy melted to quivering puddles at even the slightest brandishing of a needle. So instead she merely nodded, and lightly rested her palm over his chest, her own gaze calm, practically authoritative.

"I'll be gentle," she rasped in return, "and if anything hurts, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what hurts."

Whenever he would give assent, she would begin, careful to move slowly, obviously, first checking behind his head.

She was careful to barely touch, but there was a definite knot there at the back of his head, and through the close cut of his hair she could definitely see bruising. Wordlessly she pulled out a hot/cold patch from her own pack, and crushed it between her palms before handing it over to him.
"Hold it on there for as long as you can," she nodded to the back of his head, "but your head looks fine. Any vision problems, blurriness. Headache?" She spoke as her hands lightly ghosted from his chest towards his neck, the gentlest of touches.

"I'll be checking your neck next," she deadpanned, the persona of the physician firmly clicking into place over the woman. Clinical, assessing, ever careful, she lightly brushed a finger over some of the bruises almost by accident; his pulse still seemed to jump, so an idea began to form.

"Aside from a few nicks and bruises, you should be fine. But patient protocol suggests I... help calm the patient during times of high duress." Though her voice remained calm, professional, an odd shade of rose lightly flushed across the tops of her cheeks. "..One of the ways is in prolonged physical contact via gentle, firm pressure. So..."

She cleared her throat, but stood tall, opening up her arms.
"Don't take this the wrong way. But it's... a hug. To help ease anxiety." She forced herself to stand that way, and if he wouldn't move she would slowly step forward, the flush now touching even the tops of her ears with pale pink. She wasn't certain if even that would help or not, but... it was worth a shot.

Mindful of any bruises or shallow cuts the glass may have given him, she wrapped her arms around his torso, chin over his shoulder to a light, careful embrace. Though it was patient protocol, typically her patients were of the violent sort. So this was an experiment to even see if this protocol was even viable.

Or so she kept telling herself.


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Corran Velt

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A cold palm to the chest caused Corran to temporarily cast his eyes downward. He couldn't quite puzzle out why she was touching him that way, as if the closeness of it in their surroundings and setting didn't connect. Slowly, blue eyes rose and met the commanding stare of gold. The Ranger acquiesced with a small nod while not breaking eye contact. He had trusted Ilana when they first met on Corellia and quite a few more times on Nar Shaddaa. This was going to be an even greater experiment of trust from the young man. Small injuries and bruises were a personal weakness. Not intolerable, but he always hated his contusions being poked or prodded. He'd take a broken arm over a stubbed toe any day. All the blond youth could hope for was that Doctor Morata would be true to her word.

Soft brushes at the back of his head indicated that the doctor had found the bump back there. Even as delicate she was, parting his hair even slightly made him frown a bit in discomfort. The application of an hot/cold patch made him wince and inhale air sharply between his teeth. It stung. Corran was already starting to dislike this. But he would hold it on the back of his head as long as he could, per doctor's orders. As usual, the Ranger was good at following orders. He looked at the ceiling, as if the answers were floating in the air, as he considered Ilana's questions about the effects of the head injury. Considering the accuracy and spread of his blaster rounds, vision was still in good condition. No blurriness to recollection, no. "I have a bit of a headache, but I can't tell if that's from the doorway or the patch sitting on the back of my head," the young man admitted with some irritation in his voice.

White fingers glided up his chest and lightly floated over the deepest purples and blues on his neck. Corran kept perfectly still, glancing about the room as to not stare at the professional. Compared to other physical assessments, this was going quite well. Doctor Morata did not lie about her technique. If it wasn't burdensome, he might've considered requesting her services in the future.

He spoke too soon. A simple, incidental brush of his throat bruising caused a sudden lightning strike of pain. It felt like someone jammed a thumb into rotten fruit, if the fruit were his neck muscles. Almost immediately the Ranger recoiled, pulling his neck away from the threatening touch of a doctor. Through pursed lips and flared nostrils, Corran inhaled with his eyes closed to power through the pain that he was so sensitive to. How he detested his bruises being touched. After the spike of pain subsided, sky blue eyes opened again to listen to the doctor's assessment.

Reports were good and Ilana was right about 'duress'. The experience had not been ideal, despite her best efforts. The blond youth was thankful she didn't poke and prod at the bruises and scrapes on his torso, at least. Almost immediately, Corran noticed the flush of rose against the white in the Arkanian's face. Why was she blushing like that? Prolonged physical contact. Via gentle. Firm. Pressure. The young swallowed hard. He only winced subtly from the pain in his throat. Only when Ilana explained it was hug did the stiff tension in Corran's chest and shoulders flow out of him. He didn't rise from the desk to meet her embrace, not because he didn't want to, but he was too distracted. It was a curious thing. Kisses, longing touches, even moments of passion - none of these things caused Ilana to blush like hugs did. With each step closer, her face and even ears seemed to flush to a rosy hue. Why was she like that?

Arms slid under his and the doctor hugged him. For a moment, Corran hesitated, but then slid his free hand around her. Eventually he released the patch from behind his head and embraced her fully. Stress and unease in the young man evaporated, like wisps in the morning light. She was cold in her touch, like a humanoid ice-pack. It was soothing, even to the contusions along his side. Corran let the hug linger, a gentle sigh expressing contentedness. A soft voice brushed through the quiet, "Thank you."

Releasing his grasp, the male Ranger stood up from leaning against the desk. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, taking a moment to regard the Arkanian woman. There was an appreciation in his countenance. Ilana had seen it in his features once before. Corran finally willed himself to speak, "Am I cleared for duty, Doctor? We still have a few tasks to wrap up." The Ranger had prevailed over the man, for the moment. If Doctor Morata consented, the young man would fish a datapad and commlink from his backpack and set up a little station on the ad-hoc examination desk. He paused; thumb on the commlink but had no activated it yet. Corran turned his head to face Ilana and looked at her with honest intent in his eyes. "You did good tonight, Doctor. Exceptional, even. I'll make sure to note your professionalism and drive in my report. It'll reflect well on continuing your Affiliate status with the Rangers. If you choose to continue, that is."

@Killa Ree
 

Dr Ilana Morata

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Seeing him flinch at even the slightest touch of a bruise gave her an odd flicker of shame. She hadn't intended to hurt him, but seeing how sensitive he really was... was information for the next time he would be hurt. She wasn't surprised at that idea either. It would happen eventually; all Rangers, it seemed, were not exempt from that rule. Beyond Lorcan, however, she didn't know the rest of the Ranger task force, and she was curious.

But feeling him wrap his arms around her in return was... not what she expected. She could feel her face heat, and swallowed hard, willing herself to be still. It was hard, to touch other people; their feelings were always amplified, their senses and emotions always greater... their secret doubts and fears, only a subtle note when at a distance, that much more potent with actual prolonged physical contact.

It was easier when in passionate moments, her partner's emotions typically matched or exceeded her own, amplifying what was already there. But hugging was.. intimate... in a way that she wasn't comfortable with. It was a large amount of willpower to allow him to relax, to ease, and for just a second she closed her eyes.

He was warm. In its' own way, it was soothing as well, but it was over and he put up distance again.

She nodded once, relieved, and stepped back. The blush faded, and she took out her own datapad.
"Thank you, sir. I'll make sure to send my own findings and observations as well." She paused, then, amber eyes thoughtful at the mention of continuing her affiliate status. A small nod confirmed.

"It would be my honor, Ranger Velt,"
came the very quiet reply, and she turned away as well to file her own report and findings, leaving him to call in his own report.

But just once, she snuck a glance over her shoulder at him, admiring how the Ranger could step so easily into his own role. She had no doubt everything in his life was compartmentalized, and though every now and then she would see the reckless youth beneath the rigid Ranger... she could respect his strict code. And yet she wondered what kind of life he lived. He mentioned a mother, a loving one, and for a fleeting moment she wondered if she would approve.

It's ridiculous.

She turned away, beginning to slowly sort through each pak in methodical, calm precision as he would file his report, not finishing until every last pack would be sorted. It would take a while, but it was worth it.

The price of patients' lives always took precedence over any personal comfort. He would see the shift, amber eyes flickering into remote passiveness, the pale features of the Arkanian offshoot almost becoming like a mask, so unchanging it was. Giving him time to call in what he needed, and her time as well to sort everything that just happened.

Including the giant hole in the wall.


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Corran Velt

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Although not entirely surprising, Corran still felt a little relief that Doctor Morata seemed content for the time being in staying a partner of the Affiliate program. The operation had not gone according to plan in many ways. A rushed assault with no back-up or entry plan on a suspect safe house. Hand-to-hand tussle with suspects. Exchange of blaster fire. Structural damage. Injuries incurred all along the way. If Ilana had decided she had seen enough, the young man wouldn’t have blamed her for it. Even he had to admit it wasn’t his finest hour. “Good. I’m happy to hear that,” Corran said in a business-like, even-keel tone, “But you don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ I’m more of a partner or mentor in this role than commanding officer. Ranger Velt will do fine.” With that, he turned away to face the commlink. Sir. He liked the sound of that. Not from her specifically, but from others.

A press of the thumb opened a connection to a local CorSec station, “Hello. This is Sector Ranger Corran Velt. Badge Number…” From there began the reciting of his credentials and simple details to confirm identity. The Rangers were extrajudicial in many ways but had their information stored on databases accessible to Free Worlds Alliance planets and beyond. The address and request for squad speeders and a forensics team came next. Amount of suspects, including a droid. General details of what the pair had found. While on the line, Corran strode over to one of the emptied med-paks near the doctor and examined a faulty bacta applicator before returning it. “Yes. That’s right. I’ll submit my full written report by morning, if not before. Oh, and tell your team to be careful ascending the stairs. The droid went through a wall. Correct. Thank you, have a good evening.” Corran ended the call and immediately picked up the datapad and began typing away. Taps, like rain on a window, streamed for as long as Doctor Morata sorted through the counterfeit medical supplies. It was almost incessant – the sign of someone who took documentation thoroughly and seriously. After a while, the noise faded into the background. Until it abruptly ceased. A few more taps. A few beats of silence. Rhythmic clicking signaled the deletion of a few words. More typing. More rhythmic clicking.

Finally, a human sigh of uncertainty interrupted the digital taps that had been the only constant sound in the room. “Ilana,” the use of her first name seemed completely out of place given the use of her professional title all night. His voice seemed dry, concerned. “I need to describe how the B2 droid went through that wall.” The Ranger would wait for her to pull away from her monotonous work. This was important. “I can’t lie. I’ve never lied on documentation or case files,” Corran’s voice sounded firm and resolute but then he averted his eyes, looking at the floor, growing quieter, “But… but I don’t want to report that you slammed a whole droid through a wall with her hand. That you’re… a Force user.” Another conflict between the man and the Ranger. It was clear in his body language that this small thing bothered him. Countless Rangers, especially in the Outer Rim, were often no better than mercenaries with a badge in his eyes. Using the law as a shield to kill, take favors, and show favoritism. Organization, discipline, and a consistent application of the law are what Corran thought separated him from those frontier gunslingers. Truthful, accurate reports were a part of those and were something of his hallmark. His code and oath couldn't allow a false report. It mean an opportunity for the suspects to walk free, if ever discovered or taken advantage of in a court room. It also would be a dangerous precedent. Once a little, harmless fib began... where did it all end? Maybe some dangerous precedents had already been set.

“As an Affiliate, you still have a right to privacy.” An attempt to reconcile the two personas. It may not work, but the young man was clearly trying. “I just need your help to… to find the right words.”

@Killa Ree
 

Dr Ilana Morata

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She had been mostly focusing on her work, not paying attention to the emotions of the room. When it was one person at a time, it was far simpler to focus on the task at hand. When it was multiple, however, she had a more difficult time. When he was first expressing trepidation, she had been about two thirds of the way through the same packs provided, categorizing them according to their contents.

Hearing her name, however, she glanced over to him, blinking back into focus.

It was then she registered the discomfiture, even the small level of uncertainty that lingered in the room like a sour note in a full chord. At hearing why he was so uncomfortable... she gave a small, one shouldered shrug.
"Then don't lie. Force user, unaffiliated with religious cults, assisted in apprehending a droid dangerous to suspects, Rangers and affiliate. Force was needed to subdue. It's up to you, Corran," she replied quietly.

"I trust your judgement."


It wasn't a direct lie, but an omission of a few key truths he could use or adapt to his own liking. In truth, she knew all too well what could happen if any of them knew her as a Force user. She could be removed from the affiliate program. Or worse. And if she was going to be honest...

It didn't bother her, the notion of being taken off the program. All she knew was she wanted to help the best way she could, and this seemed the best choice for it.

But her spine began to ache from sitting as she did, sorting through. She slowly stretched, holding back a wince at the twinge to her shoulder, but sighed in low satisfaction at the relief. Shifting slightly, she'd continue her work, seemingly not too bothered by what he'd implied.

She truly did trust him... and the last thing she would want him to do was to outright lie on her behalf. He was too good for that, and it was her fault he would be in this hot water if it wasn't reported.

So he would report it, and spare them both the trouble of lying.


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Corran Velt

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Out of all the possible reactions, the Ranger did not expect nonchalance. He blinked a few times, processing everything the Arkanian had just said. Corran's brow furrowed when he couldn't make sense of it. Was she really that indifferent to such a weighty thing? Blue eyes cast down to the datapad and the blinking icon where letters would appear that would shape the record of events. If she really did trust him, the responsibility on the young man’s shoulders felt heavy, like standing on a high gravity world in the Deep Core. He’d have to do this right.

Perhaps for the better too. Her suggested description would have led to more questions. Who was this nameless Force user? Where did they go? Why did they help? All these questions would point to either Corran himself or Ilana. It wouldn’t do. A word-filled blue screen reflected in his eyes, looking not only for the right words, but the right path. He rolled his shoulders and shifted his neck uncomfortably before placing his hands on the datapad. A few short taps were all that was needed.

Droid was subdued by Ranger and Affiliate. Destroyed by concentrated blaster fire.

Corran powered down the screen and slipped the device into its stowage pocket. One strap after the other, he mounted the backpack over his shoulders. In the distance, the wail of sirens could be heard. CorSec squad speeders rushing to set up a crime scene. Out of the blown window, with a warm night breeze fluttering through, blue and red lights could be seen lighting up the distant streets. They’d be here in a few minutes. With a bit of apprehension, Corran slowly approached the wintery woman. “We don’t have to stay around for this part,” he said, after clearing his throat, “Once local agencies arrive on scene, Ranger jurisdiction typically takes a backseat. I typically just wave them in and stay only if requested.”

There was a break there. That innate feeling where someone could feel that something was unsaid. Held back. The Ranger turned his head away, as if he heard a distracting sound, before slowly bringing his eyes back to her. “You could go ahead of me, if you’d like. Before they get here. I can handle the rest.” The second option was silently implied. The two leaving together, but something about the current arrangement, Ranger and Affiliate, made that uncomfortable. It was entirely professional, but felt a bit like asking a girl to walk home with you from school. The young man would be fine either way.

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Dr Ilana Morata

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She shook her head briefly, glancing up at him. She didn't see what he typed, but even from here, now snapped from the dull reverie of sorting items, she could sense the weight, uncomfortable. She was responsible for this, no matter what he chose to say. She lifted up a medpack, still wearing her examination gloves. "I'll finish up sorting these last few packs for evidence, but then I'll go. You'd be welcome to join if you like."

Besides, it looked, and felt like there was something he wanted to say. She paused, tilting her head to regard him fully. But it seemed there was a second option... that they go together. It would be an interesting thought. She'd let him wrap up things on the Ranger side, but let it never be said that she would ever dawdle on her own side of things.

It didn't take long for the CorSec squad to arrive, but by then she was finishing up organizing the last few paks, frowning in focus. "Ma'am?" a woman's voice intruded, and she glanced up briefly. An officer, it seemed, staring at her uncertainly. "Step away from the evidence... please," she asked, and Ilana nodded once, setting down the last tube of faulty bacta paste.

"These were faulty paks and supplies..." she pointed to the neatly stacked packs she sorted through, each of them labeled neatly in her own hand with jury-rigged labels, "And these are genuine." She didn't say anything else but shucked off her gloves, and picking up her own pack to sling it over her shoulder.

If Corran was done on his own side of things, he was welcome to walk with her back to their ships... after all, she believed she perhaps owed him a dinner for all the trouble. Or perhaps something else. She calmly strode away from CorSec officers taking over, not even sparing a glance to the hole in the wall as she continued down the stairs this time.


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Corran Velt

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If nothing else, the first trial run for the Arkanian as an Affiliate had proven she was dedicated to her work. She was thorough, precise, and pretty quick at going through a large stash of packs. It was interesting how similar she was to Corran in their professional standards. His mental list on why he liked her grew every time they spent time together, but some additions to be wary of had also been noted. If he was welcome to depart with her, of course he’d take the doctor up on the offer. Not only was she somewhat under his professional oversight for this operation, but he liked her. Though, he wouldn’t admit that while on duty.

CorSec arrived, timely as ever, and a female officer approached Doctor Morata while her male partner stopped Corran. “Sir, are you the reporting officer?” The Ranger gave a curt nod with a tap on his badge, “Yes, sir. Crime scene is yours, officer.” A skeptical glance between the badge and the blond youth’s face followed. “Anything else we should know about the premises? Any other suspects?” Over the shoulder of the CorSec officer, Ilana was already departing the room with her bag in tow. Corran returned his eyes to the local PD in front of him, “No, sir. Just apply stun-cuffs to the two in the office cubicle section and they are all yours. Here is my report in full.” He offered a datapad to transfer over to the officer’s own device. Once done, a scowl and a thumb over the shoulder dismissed the young man. With a crisp nod and a shrug to readjust his backpack, he took his leave.

The fourth floor was beginning to fill up with officers and investigative types taking pictures. Corran’s pace was sort of a jog as he made long strides to try to catch up to Ilana without looking too eager. A few nodded, some grimaced, but most others simply ignored the departing Ranger. A clear example of the mixed perceptions of the Sector Rangers among local law enforcement if there ever was one. Especially on Corellia, where some blamed them for the Sith raids that occurred awhile back. Eventually the young man caught up with the Arkanian doctor and the two descended the stairwell in companionable silence. The only other beings they came across was the forensics team going up.

Outside, the raided office was encircled by CorSec officers and flashing police speeders. Holo-tape had already been staked out, floating in a blue hue between thin metal projectors. A local officer turned and squinted at the two. Corran responded by turning to show his badge. That was enough to ward off any scant attention and the pair passed through the holo-tape harmlessly and away from the scene.

As the ruckus and hive of activity faded behind them with each step, the calm night began to return. Like how it was on the roof top as they surveilled their future target. Twin moons, one in full white and the other half covered in shadow, filled the night sky. Stars twinkled innocently in the dark void. The only sound was the occasional gravel being kicked ahead by their footfalls. Corran chewed the inside of his lip, uncertain of what to say to break the silence. He knew how to act as a Ranger around her, in theory, and he knew how he liked to be around her off duty. The awkward, uncertain in between, was the worst of both worlds. "So, uh," the young man cleared his throat, "Are you planning on staying long on Corellia or blasting off soon, Doctor Morata?"

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Dr Ilana Morata

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She had been silent from when she began descending down the stairs until he spoke; for the most part, she was occupied with thoughts of just how many of those faulty packs were there, versus how many that were legitimate. It made her question her own resources, and how much longer she could rely on their supply before it would run dry. She hadn't really expected him to want to catch up, after all, and turned her head to glance at him when she heard his footfalls behind her.

For a while, there was silence, except for their footsteps. And for a while, there were still the flashing lights of CorSec, but soon too, past another building, another street, and they were also a distant flash of reminder. She glanced up at him again when he asked his question, giving the slightest shake of her head.


"I was planning on staying planetside a few more days, finishing paperwork and finalizing my assessment,"
she spoke up, adjusting the strap of her bag over her uninjured shoulder. He seemed to struggle with something internally once more, but she would let him come to it on his own time. After all, it was too late for a cab, and though she could get to her ship just fine, he no doubt had work of his own. But...

"What about you?" she queried, her voice light. She glanced once more at the back of his head and his neck, discreetly, and then meeting blue eyes, keeping an easy pace with his own long-legged stride. "Have any spare time for a night, Ranger?" A light touch of something seemed to hint at the edge of her lips; not a smile, but a small gleam of humor and curiosity, a flicker that glinted in amber eyes usually left remote, calculatedly distant.

Perhaps that question would dislodge anything he struggled to put into words.


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Corran Velt

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It really did feel like a boy walking a girl home from school. At least, to Corran. A heavy backpack loaded with ammo, supplies, a blaster rifle, concussion grenades, medical kit, the odd-and-end tool, a reinforced blast vest, combat boots; all the equipment he brought for the raid hung off his body and the young man still felt like he was floating on air next to Ilana. The wondrously enjoyable night atmosphere helped. Normally this youthful excitement wouldn’t be an issue but right now, he needed to keep a tight lid on it while they were on assignment. The Ranger would have had an easier time keeping a lid down on a Rancor. He would have to manage.

Corran nodded understandingly when he heard Ilana was staying on Corellia for a few more cycles to wrap things up. That made sense. She knew the area well – probably better than him anyway. Her own question, and playful eyes, weakened that seal against the Rancor even further. The young man glanced over and saw the subtlest upticks on her lips. Almost immediately he averted his eyes and kept them facing forward. Ilana’s real power wasn’t the Force. It was how a placid face expressing the most minor of alluring hints sent him to both Corellian moons and back. The badge on his chest felt as heavy as a planet. No; have some discipline.

For a few moments of quiet in the even more silent night, it would be obvious to the observant doctor that the blond youth was debating between the angel on one shoulder and the demon on the other. Finally, Corran stretched, arching his back and shoulders in a show of nonchalance, “I might have an evening or two open in the near future.” An attempted middle road. It mattered that the Ranger could prove to himself that he could work with the Arkanian doctor and not be influenced by their… their… their interactions. Yes. Those. The door to the Rancor was barely hanging onto its hinges. “Is there something you want to ask me, Doctor Morata?”

@Killa Ree
 
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Dr Ilana Morata

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Her lips twitched, but the smile had faded, shaking her head briefly. "Not tonight, perhaps... I'm sure the last thing you'd want is company after being poked and prodded. But in the near future...?" Her voice ended on a thoughtful note. "Keep me updated, then. The offer for a dinner still stands."

But he wanted professionalism, that was what he would get. It didn't take an empath to sense the internal struggle; she was reluctant to add to it. She couldn't put her finger on why, exactly, she enjoyed luring out the man behind the badge. But perhaps she made that uncomfortable; she would have to keep her distance, perhaps, until he would come to that comfortable distance himself.

A few more moments of silence, allowing him to give the time to think over her words. Finally, amber eyes flicked back towards him, her voice low, soft.

"Is there anything you wanted to tell me back there, Ranger?" she just barely stopped herself in time to call him by his accidental nickname, letting him decide the conversation. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she could feel herself settling back, relaxing into the cool evening.

Letting him decide for himself what was more comfortable was the biggest struggle the Doctor had to deal with. She was used to being in charge, but now, it was up to him to call the shots.


@TerranSteel
 

Corran Velt

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A humored smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. "You're probably right. An ice bath and a good nights sleep would do me some good," he agreed. Even though Corran's uniform was still precisely intact, he had smudges of ash on his hands and face, debris and dust on his jacket and pants, along with the injuries. The young man absentmindedly reached up to rub the back of his neck but immediately winced with a hiss. With one eye closed, he stared at his hand with contempt for its betrayal. One would think the blond youth would be more determined to force bravado at a time like this, but no, bruises were a particular weakness. "I would like to take you up on that offer for dinner, Doctor," Corran continued with an even tone, like talk near the water-cooler at work. A spark of playfulness lit up in blue eyes, only for an instant, and likely only Ilana would have noticed. "Nearer in the future, the better." Then it was gone.

Buildings passed by without change. No speeders were moving about. No other pedestrians in the sleepy suburb. Everything seemed so still. If Ilana wasn't walking beside him, Corran wondered if he would think time was progressing at all. In a way, it was a nice change of pace. Usually their time together felt like it entered hyperspace - beautiful, but over so quickly. The small local space-docks were now visible in the distance. They were only three hangars, meant for localized deliveries of consumer goods or foodstuffs out into the neighborhood stores, but they were often empty this late at night and so the two got a pretty good parking deal on fees. The Ranger would have been content walking in silence the rest of the way, just enjoying Ilana's presence before they parted ways. But she asked him something else.

Corran looked over his shoulder behind him, as if his thoughts would be standing where he first had them. "Oh, um. Yeah." Sky blue eyes settled on the ground ahead of him, always a few steps ahead of his own boots. He could feel her golden gaze. There were two things he wanted to tell her back there, and now here. He may not be able to say both, but there was at least the first. The Ranger stood up straight, no longer looking down, and returned his own gaze to the doctor, "I wanted to say that... I think we make a good team. Our abilities compliment each other well." He faced forward having delivered a more personal, but professional assessment. Corran kept quiet for a few moments. The second thought hadn't shoo'd away. After the first had been said, the second patiently waited in line for its turn and it wouldn't be ignored. Tussling internally didn't appear on his features until almost spontaneously, and without fanfare, the young man reached up and clipped off his badge. He turned it over in his hand before leaving it face now and curling his fist around it. "And..." He began slowly, "I liked seeing you tonight." Compared to before, peace settled within the man. A stillness that came with everything that wanted to be said had been. It was freeing, but only allowed due to their proximity to their ships and how far they had removed themselves from the crime scene. And how alone they were.

@Killa Ree
 

Dr Ilana Morata

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The flash of amusement, of playfulness. When he was under the badge, she could see exactly what kind of man he would become. The youthful enthusiasm wouldn't fade, perhaps, but settle into small moments, the humor weighing down. And yet... there was something to appeal there. Who he was in this moment was no different than he was as a Ranger, simply professional, curtailed within limits. However... she nodded once at his reply.

"Tomorrow evening, perhaps?" she queried quietly, feeling unwilling to break the quietness of the night. Now that they were beyond the sirens, beyond the obvious signs of CorSec he seemed to change. Subtle, but it was there, a shift of his personality. She would never assume it to be his 'true' self, as both sides to his personality were of himself. Both refreshingly unguised, even now.

She felt, more than heard him pause, then nodded once. They had... things could have gone terribly wrong, yet they both made it through remarkably unscathed. And had a reference point for something to research further into; something that would save so many more lives than what she ever had on her own. That responsibility was such a weight, yet tonight she felt light, free.

For once, the good Doctor felt at peace, and feeling it with Corran... Her hand lightly brushed over his own, where his badge rested in his palm.


"I liked seeing you as well," she spoke quietly, her voice a low rasp. She couldn't understand exactly why he unclipped his badge... but she could guess, and though it was touching, she wasn't going to take advantage of that. Golden eyes glimmered in the low light, lambent as flickering flames. There was a pause; a consideration for an action. They were alone, the crime scene was over and done.

But... but.

If she pursued that thinking, she would step closer. And though she enjoyed spending her nights that way... they both needed time to process what happened tonight. Not just as Ranger and Affiliate, but as more. She had her own paperwork to sort, but her own emotions of what she had done. Consideration, answers. Perhaps he would understand.

A glimmer of a smile in golden eyes, her voice low in the quiet night.


"Good night, space cowboy. See you tomorrow."

And with that, she did the hardest thing she had done all night.

She turned away, and walked off to her ship, keeping her head high and her stride confident for a long, restless night. There was a chance to stop her if he wanted... but hopefully he would understand what she was trying to do. What was, for the first time, a difficulty for her.


@TerranSteel

//End thread
 
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