Ask Not A Quack Doc

Dr Ilana Morata

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It was like a kick to the gut.

Hearing that name, her whole body stiffened. Her knees trembled, threatening to collapse on her, and her hands balled into fists. Grief, resentment, rage flared brightly in her stomach and she visibly swallowed, feeling that control slip ever so slightly. He wasn't being deliberately malicious, perhaps, but hearing that name was like seeing a ghost she had nearly exorcised. When she turned to face him, her face was tight with anger, whole body slightly trembling. Her eyes were frigid, expression just as cold.

Slowly, she stepped towards him, her voice a low, sibilant hiss of anger between her teeth.
"That piece of schutta still owes me," she snarled, facing the T-visor with jaw working as though physically holding back words. "Yes, Malakai Beck. You see him, you tell him his life is mine." It took another few seconds before the anger smoothed out, and she took a step back, arms crossed tightly.

"Any more questions, Rawl?"

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Roland Rook

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Roland was not sure what to expect but the anger Ilana displayed was not what the Mandalorian would have guessed. His helmet tilted down to center on her face since she stopped and turned towards him. Roland stood a full head taller than her but the enraged Arkanian didn't seem to care.

She took a moment to compose herself. He waited a moment after she spoke his alias. "So you and Malakai Beck stole a book and what happened after that? Why not chase him down yourself if he scorned you?"

The trade of force embued artifacts on the black market was bad enough with crime lords owning the trinkets. But arguably it would be even worse for the galaxy if the Sith Order got their hands on it. "Is he a Sith ...work with Sith?" They were now an 'order' but had been a cult, hiding among the populace of the galactic citizenry for decades. Supposedly if he had brought a Jedi maybe they could tell who was using the dark side and who wasn't. Then again Roland was far from educated in the specifics of the Force, dark or light. "Are you a Sith?" So far, she technically had not lied as far as the Mandalorian could tell. But that didn't mean she was being forthcoming or telling the whole truth. The undercover ranger was still prone to mistakes the same as anyone else.

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Dr Ilana Morata

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Her heart was still thundering in her ears, but she forced herself to breathe, to focus. But her jaw wouldn't unclench, her posture didn't relax in the slightest. Amber eyes burned with the urge to shed a single tear, but she stubbornly refused. She would not break down now, not after so many years of hiding, and she would not give a Mandalorian the pleasure of seeing her crack.

She eased back onto her heels, features calm. Her arms crossed, voice suddenly back to it's usual calm rasp, reciting the past events almost like words from a page.
"After the book, we did some research. Old Empire caches, useless kark. And I tried to find him." For a moment, only a moment, he would see the mask slip, and amber eyes flickered with an emotion dark in its' core.

Pain. Raw grief, too deep to even shed tears. And just like that, it was shut over again, smoothed with a frigid professionalism snapping into place once more. At his question she barked out a bitter laugh, arms tightening beneath her bust.
"He was." Was. Not is. No longer. Does it matter? Not really... none of it matters anymore, he's gone and you know it.

"Not that I knew until he.. did impossible things," she spoke quietly, frowning. "And no, I am not." Her gaze met where his own could have been squarely; of all the things she may have said or done, this much was certainly true, and he would see it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fit in to anything. She was alone... always. She turned away then once more, and began walking to the door. It opened with a hiss, and she continued down the hall, hardly caring if he followed her or not. Time to get this kriff over with.

Likely this wasn't the end of it. He'd probably drag her along with him to get justice with this guy, and if that was the case, she was dead anyways. Funny how little she genuinely cared.


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Roland Rook

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"Do you have the book still?" He didn't care about what they found yet. Maybe this tome would fill in the blanks. Whatever Malakai and Ilana found was probably taken and hidden again anyways. At least, that would be what Roland would have done. Not to mention his job was to return the book to that businessman.

The use of the past tense was not lost on the Ranger. But it meant there had been some association. "Sounds like he betrayed you. Are you sure you still believe everything he said?" Roland got the impression that despite Ilana was furious at being seemingly abandoned by a friend she still trusted their past interactions. Otherwise she wouldn't have given Roland the information so confidently. Everything she said told him she had believed in what the Grysk had told her.

When she began to walk away he would follow to keep her in sight. "The man who hired me is looking for his book. He wants it back. If you hand it over I'll take it to him and that'll be the end of it..." He slowed to a stop letting a pause hang in the air. "...but....there are other parties out there looking for artifacts. The kind of artifacts that matter to Jedi, Sith and other...Force associated groups. You and Beck found this tome. Do you think you would be willing to track down other artifacts?" That why he was really here. The black market had weapons, materials that could be used for dirty bombs and contraband that could endanger people's lives. It was only in recent months that the Ranger learned these force artifacts could be just as dangerous if not moreso.

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Dr Ilana Morata

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She didn't answer his questions right away; she clipped over to her chamber, unlocking the door, and padding in. As soon as she did, a faint mewl came from the darkened interior. When she flicked on the light, two pairs of eyes flicked up to look at the newcomers. Two Loth-cats, one with its' left ear and eye missing, and another without a right front leg, glanced up. The three-legged one glanced to the Mandalorian, its' large ears flicking back to let out a low growl.

"Lilah, Tiny, behave."

At her stern words, they both settled back on the bed, watching carefully. She stepped past, and he would note the spartan room, with a simple cot bed, one armchair and little else. When she crossed to the small in-built closet, she reached up into the top shelf.

The tome rested in her hands. She held it out to him with one hand, features impassive. When he would reach for it, she would finally answer.


"Being a physician isn't as lucrative as you might think. My medical supplies are bought off the market, and my clients pay what they can. He helped me out of a bind... and he was one of the few left in the galaxy that treated me like I was a person."
Her voice was level, calm. After she spoke, she'd release it to him.

But at his asking if she wanted to seek out other items... she tilted her head at him, surprise flashing briefly in amber eyes.
"...I would be," she answered quietly, looking at him with a scrutinizing intensity. "But not out of wish to help those cults." She kept that statement hanging, still watching him calmly. "Why? Offering me a job?"

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Roland Rook

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The Mandalorian stopped after a few steps inside the room. His eyes looked at the pets for a moment but returned his attention to the Arkanian as she handed over the item. Not intimidated by the triped animal he would take the tome. Holding it in one hand he looked towards Ilana until she would release it, not entirely sure if he was able to verify its authenticity.

Some people had their medical licenses revoked, had a price on their head, or some other reason that made them end up in situations similar to Ilana's. But it was her history and probably unrelated to their current interests. Out of the two of them, Roland was probably the least honest in this situation. He had his own background that he didn't like to air in front of others.

The book seemed to be what the business man had described. The globed hands flipped through it, skimming anything but not able to make much sense of its contents. There didn't look to be anything suspicious about it like half the pages ripped out or anything at least.

"Not a job. Think of it more as an interview." He stowed the book in a small bag he kept along with other minor supplies underneath his cloak. It couldn't carry much but it was better than just holding it. "Things go well, then maybe I'll think about something more along the lines of consistent employment." It wasn't unheard of for mercenaries to and bounty hunters to sub-contract or hire people for specific skillsets. "Besides, even if you don't find anything I might still need your steady hands to stitch me up again." He stepped back towards the door. He had the tome now and a lot more answers after this interaction. <"You have my comlink info"> he wasn't going to give her a specific target. Roland wanted to see if she had the capabilities to find something on her own. If she could and still contacted him instead of keeping the information to herself then that was the first step. He wasn't going to stop testing her any time soon. Roland's trust wasn't easily earned.

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Dr Ilana Morata

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She raised a brow at his mentioning further employment. Her voice was a low rasp, bemused as he walked towards the door. "Funny... I didn't think bounty hunters would be interested in Jedi... or even Sith... artifacts." But that was all she would say for now. Instead, she merely nodded at his own talk of commlink information, speaking in Basic now. "And you have mine."

She would at least see him out; it was the least she could do. However, she had the feeling this wouldn't be the last time they would meet, and in fact, she was certain they would meet again. Hopefully under more honest circumstances, but she wasn't holding out on that just yet. There still remained the question of why he would share any interest with artifacts tied to the Force.


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