Ask By The Books

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She frowned at his wince, and though she couldn't sense pain exactly from the young man, there was something about it. Something that felt played... for her professional benefit perhaps. Or perhaps it was a serious injury, perhaps she ought to have scanned him more in-depth--

Her eyes widened when one palm pressed her hand against his, and his arm around her waist. Warmth radiated down her, like sunshine. Wholesome, pleasant. She could just melt into it if she wasn't careful, in control. He startled a huffed, low laugh past her lips, the other arm looping around his neck in retailiation with a slight, sly grin.

Gone was the professional; in its' place, a woman who rarely saw the light of day, buried by rules, regulations, and strict policies. Somehow, some way he was charming her out of her shell; it was a bit of a heady thrill, being seen, being wanted. Even though she was at fault somehow... he still wanted to have her around.

"Good," she murmured softly, leaning in to murmur close to his ear. "Because I'd hate to examine you again so soon after this..." she lightly feathered a kiss against his jaw, then once more against his lips. When she'd part, her voice was low. "But, you have a point..." though there was no longer any smile on her lips, amber eyes glittered with a teasing light. "We should check the ship eventually."

However, she wasn't moving, but leaving the slimmest space between them, allowing him to move away if he wanted to.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Never before had it come so easily. Almost instantly, Ilana’s affection greeted and met his own. Even her usual wintery ice seemed to soften to an autumn chill in his arms. A pale arm swung around his neck. She had him hooked as much as he had her. The change in the Arkanian woman was as sudden as it was surprising. The stoic, methodical doctor was gone and someone altogether new was in her place. Likewise, Corran felt his own professional persona, already thin, vanish completely. The badge he wore on his chest, already left behind on his ship, felt further away the closer she got. Ilana’s raw attention felt new and rare. Something the blond youth couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

Gentle lips along his jaw and against his own elicited a shallow longing sigh. It almost became hard to form words. Almost. “We should check on the ship,” Corran said distantly, looking over her shoulder in the direction of the downed craft, though he could only see to the tent wall. His face then twisted in a playful, tempting smirk as he shifted his sky-blue eyes to her own, “… Eventually.” The young man released her hand and cupped her cheek in turn. Almost immediately he pulled Ilana into a passionate kiss. It was different than the others they shared before. Not a gentle brush of innocent affection or jovial farewell. It was a deep, wanting invitation. If she didn’t pull away, Corran would tip back, pulling the radiant, beautiful woman with him to fall back onto the sleeping mat, using his own body to cushion her fall.

Between it all, the feelings of desire, of connection, this blissful mixture of fire and ice; reality felt unbelievable. Like Corran was still unconscious from the crash or still dreaming in the recovery slumber. All the pressures of the galaxy were gone for the first time since he joined the Sector Rangers. There was no crime to investigate, no building to flee, no ship to board, no problem to immediately solve. The weight was gone. Nothing else mattered. Only Ilana. Only her. How open she felt. From the idyllic, brisk mountain scenery to the wondrous embrace of a woman he cared for, it must have been a dream.

A dream he didn’t want to wake up from just yet.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Her heart skipped a beat, her breath pulling in a faint gasp as he pulled her closer into a deeper kiss, the palm sliding to brush her hand around his neck to drag him closer to her. When he tipped back she would follow with a soft, throaty chuckle, slipping her arms from around his neck to wrap her legs around his waist, keeping him close. There was suddenly a deep need to be as connected as possible, feel his warmth and the charge of his touch all the closer.

The rest of the galaxy faded out of focus as she tugged off her shirt, then leaned back into him, lips meeting his in another deep kiss. This wasn't like any other time spent with anyone that graced her bed; this was different, a need to feel, to connect, and it was all him, anchoring her in the moment.

Everything else faded in the background, and the Doctor lost sense of time for the first time since they were last together.

---

When time resumed again, she was curled against him, eyes closed. Just for a moment her eyes were closed, savoring the feel of actual warmth, the silence outside the tent. She knew they had to leave to investigate, but oddly, she felt no compunction to go. But...

He has people who need him for his work. It would be selfish to hold him for so long... I should move.

Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes, glancing back up to him. A soft sigh parted from her lips as she slowly slid away, sitting up to stretch, the air still with a bite of chill to it. Giving a slight shiver, she wrapped her arms around herself, then started glancing around. "Hey, um... have you seen my shirt anywhere?" she rasped, glancing back over to him with lambent golden eyes.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

In the chilly mountain air, Ilana's icy touch stood out against his body. He relished the jolts it gave; that brisk feeling of being alive. The young man had a glow about him. A distinct aura of satisfaction that couldn't really be matched. While their night together on Nar Shaddaa had been something of chance and a clumsy, emotional thing on Corran's part, this time felt more intentional. More wanted. Just... more. He laid with one hand behind his head and his eyes closed. If only this place, this meteor lake, also stopped the passage of time. The young man didn't know how long his beautiful companion would have wanted to spend time here, but he knew it would be a longer while still. Unfortunately, the clock kept ticking in the background of his thoughts. He didn't want to get up and face their challenges. But...

She has people who need her for her work. Critical medical work that no other could do. I couldn't keep her here. It would be selfish.

A sigh from the Arkanian came first. Corran popped one eye open to watch her slide away from his torso and sit up to stretch. His other eyelid rose so he could take in her image with both eyes. Her wintery hair hanging loosely over marble shoulders. Skin as soft and pleasing as the first snowfall of the season. She was thin, but her curves seemed to have been shaped by the most talented sculptors. Goose bumps arose down his spine. She didn't even have to touch him. Just looking at her was enough to rekindle all types of emotions. Corran started thinking that maybe he should be selfish.

A shirt? Oh. Right. The blond youth blinked a few times and finally noticed that she looked cold. He immediately propped himself up on his elbows and began swiveling his head to locate the rogue grey tee shirt. After a few moments of searched, he spotted a sleeve peeping out from under his lower thigh. "Sorry," Corran apologized meekly as he handed it to the doctor, "It got lost in the tussle." He pushed himself up to sitting upright. The chilly air took its turn on his chest now. It didn't bother him very much; his eyes were too busy taking one last look before Ilana dressed herself. It's a shame that art must sometimes be covered.

Suppose it was that time. With some visible reluctance, the off-duty Ranger pulled his pants on one leg at a time and secured his belt and holster back on. He grimaced as he stretched his back and shoulders once more before snatching up his shirt and tugging it over his head. Socks and boots followed, then he tossed on the lucky jacket. "Ready to go?" He wasn't. A part of Corran wanted to stay in the tent as long as possible. As if all the positive feelings and affections were hermetically sealed within. That just opening the flap would spoil them, never to return. That was childish. He'd have to break that seal today. He just hoped there would be other chances in the future.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She could sense his eyes on her. And though the emotions were muted from the simple enjoyment of their time together, there were other emotions that rose to the surface. Feelings she couldn't exactly identify exactly, as she had never felt them before. Watching his features, change, as well, was something that gave her a sudden feeling of self-consciousness.

Tugging the shirt on, she slid on her leggings again, followed by boots, the holster rig for her personal blaster and her own civilian coat. Lips quirked slightly, at his apology as she rose, adjusting her coat once and feeling the weight of her own blaster against her hip. But... he seemed reluctant. For a moment, she stared up into his features, trying to discern what he wanted, how he was feeling. She then stepped closer, sliding her hand against his.

"This won't be the only time," she murmured throatily, but left it at that.

Once the tent was open, she looked around, squinting at the bright light. Her hand hovered over her blaster, prepared to draw at a moments' notice. But there was nothing... just the gentle sound of trickling water. No ships screaming overhead, nothing she could sense. Perhaps they were truly alone... but if that was the case, did the person that hit them assume that hitting their fuel cells would be a guaranteed hit?

She sincerely doubted it.

Eyes on the downed courier, she also didn't hear anyone moving beyond the forest cover. Perhaps she was being overly paranoid, but there was more at stake than just her.

She wasn't sure if she could forgive herself if he got hurt on her watch, much less if this attempted strike was somehow her fault. But perhaps the R2 unit on the ship could tell them the damage done to the ship... and if it was even a repairable job. Plus, they couldn't survive on ration bars forever.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

There was a time when Ilana seemingly being able to read his thoughts would surprise him. It never angered; the power often made opening up that much easier. Because he had to. Now, it was more comforting. Corran didn’t even have to express his worries. She just knew. As Ilana brushed her hand against his and quietly reassured him that this wasn’t the last, the young man held her hand for a brief moment, before watching her bravely exit the tent first. He grinned at her back and shook his head slowly. Oh, he liked her a lot. Empath and all.

The off-duty Ranger left the portable shelter just as cautiously as the doctor had. His hand rested on the comforting grip of his Power 5. The caution seemed unneeded. In tandem with Ilana, he scanned the immediate surroundings and listened for any tall-tale signs of trouble. Nothing. No roar of a hostile ship’s engines in the sky. No shout to halt and surrender. No blaster fire. Just the calming sound of a small, flowing stream, the distant song of birds, and the smell of mountain conifers. The peace was more unsettling in its own way than immediate danger. If someone had shot them down, as the carbon scoring suggested, why hadn’t they come to finish them off?

Through the scattered trees, the courier looked much like it did the day before. It hadn’t caught fire or exploded. There were no visible signs of hostile climbing all over it. Not a panel out of place on the hull, besides the obvious damages. Wordlessly, Corran glanced at his companion with a cocked eyebrow. This was all so odd. “I’ll go first,” he volunteered. When he stepped out beyond the brush, with only the lake between him and the ship, nothing happened. No ambush. No threat. Cautiously, the young man waved over his shoulder for Ilana to follow.

After a short walk around the lip of the lake, the pair stood before the crashed vessel. The entire time, the off-duty Ranger’s logic claimed there was danger afoot but his senses seemed at ease. He craned his head upward and glanced at the carbon scored fuel cells. Unless ten pirates were hiding on the ship and each held personal cloaking devices, no one had come for them.

“Wow. I’m impressed,” Corran said, jutting his thumb at the downed Quad Five, “You hired someone to shoot down your own ship just to get some alone time with me.” He turned his head to look at her, with that stupid boyish grin and a teasing gleam in his eye. “You know how to make a guy feel special.”

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Though she couldn't sense any emotions other than her partner's, there was something to the air that didn't feel right. Something like a discordant note in a symphony. Seeing Corran relax caused her also to relax ever so slightly. Until she caught his words with a quizzical glance...

Until his words caught up. For a moment, she simply stared at him, hand still on her blaster, shoulders still tense with restrained tension. She then huffed in derision, stepping up to give him a deep, amber-eyed stare.

"If I wanted to get some alone time with you...." she murmured throatily, leaning in as though to close the distance and brush another kiss. One hand splayed over his chest, head tilted and eyes half-lowered. "...I would have done something a bit less dramatic and covert."

She whispered this in the space between them. Not waiting to see his reaction she backed off instead, drawing out her blaster and approaching the ship. "I'll be checking in with R2; hopefully we can get up and running before the hit and run comes around for a second shot." Not recalling whether or not they were even a threat anymore, she boarded, leaving him time to contemplate her teasing him.

The ramp lowered, and the droid began rolling down, only whistling in panicked Binary at the water lapping up the lower portion of the ramp. "It's okay," she sighed, holstering the weapon. "Just tell me the diagnostic, and what we can do to patch her up."

More whistles and trills, and her shoulders slowly dropped in defeat.

"...I see. Thanks. Go ahead and recharge."

With a happy trill it returned within the ship, she turned back to Corran, lips twisted in an annoyed grimace. "It might be a while, even with Ari on board," she muttered, jerking her chin to where the droid rolled back up.

"So... we have free time for today, and perhaps some work for tomorrow. Have any suggestions to spend the time, cowboy?" she rasped at him, head tilted to one side in consideration, hands now on her hips as she gazed up at him.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Even as she stared at him in minor confusion, Corran couldn’t wait for the teasing jest to finally connect. Ah, there it was. A huff of annoyance. The young man vocally chuckled in self-gratification. When the Arkanian marched up to him, hand on blaster, he still refused to wipe that grin off his face and stood his ground. Golden eyes glared at him until their lids lowered halfway. A regal hand pressed on his chest. The sultry words forced goosebumps down his spine once again. As the doctor pulled away, the young man unintentionally leaned forward, following her departing touch like a magnet before catching himself. Corran didn’t reply to Ilana’s announced plans, but gave a vague nod in agreement.

Standing alone on the lakeside beach, he kept watch over the water and occasionally panned the sky for any incoming trouble. The sand still had remnants of the Ranger’s and the Doctor’s original footsteps in it; only faded by the passage of time and water. If anyone else had landed here and investigated the downed craft, there would be fresher footprints and likely smooshed grass from landing struts. Besides their own interruption, the local scenery was just as it was before. Untouched. But another part of his mind wasn’t on those practical observations. It was drawn towards the memory of a white hand on his chest and an alluring tease. Normally, he wouldn’t be so easily drawn in my such gestures, but he… wanted to be drawn in by Ilana. He wondered if she liked him in equal measure. Maybe that didn’t matter. She did like him, flirted with him, toyed with him. The blond youth’s simple world of affection was small and he was content with that right now.

Those happy feelings retreated as soon as Corran turned to see Doctor Morata advancing on him with a scowl on her face. Thankfully, the bad attitude wasn’t directed at him. The report from the droid must have not been too good. “I’ve fixed a few junkers before, mostly mine, so I think we can buff out some dents and replace some parts tomorrow. No problem.” There was a mild confidence in the young man’s voice. He had faith in their combined abilities in more areas than repairs.

“As for today…” Corran’s voice trailed off and furrowed his brow in thought and glanced off to the side. He began thinking out loud, listing off priorities and counting them on one hand, “We have the ship reclaimed and secondary shelter in the trees. We could scavenge for food, but we still have rations and food storage in the Quad Five. Mayday Signal is operating. Mhmm.” Blue eyes returned to looking at the woman before them. They started on her face but then quickly dropped to her boots before slowly working their way back up to her lambent stare. Oh, the young man could think of a few ways to pass time.

But perhaps later. He didn’t want to gain a reputation of being single-minded when there was so much more to why Corran liked spending time with the doctor. Though, looking at her physique did give him an idea. “When all duties taken care of, I often try to improve my talents in one area or another in my personal down time. This might surprise you, but when I joined the Rangers I had no prior training with hand-to-hand techniques or blasters.” While working on the bulk freighter, he had been trained as a secondary on the ship’s defensive turret and had been shown how to load and ready a blaster in case of boarders. That wasn’t exactly practical knowledge compared to what the Rangers taught him by instruction and later, by experience. Corran glanced skyward briefly before proceeding, “If we’re worried about a threat descending upon us, we need to prepare ourselves. Blaster training. Close-Quarters-Combat techniques. The basic survival skills to take down others before they take you down.” He politely gestured to the blaster on her hip. "I think you have a pretty similar grasp on weaponry as me, but your hand-to-hand is something unknown." The young man's eyebrow twitched in subdued amusement and a faint glimmer in his eye was there and then vanished. "Care to put me through my paces?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Seeing him scan her features, then drop his gaze from her boots and slowly back up made her feel... oddly warm. She had been looked at before with lust, revulsion, and even hatred by many other previous others that she shared her nights with. He seemed... far more wholesome than that. Good in a way she didn't deserve. And though there were no doubt other things on his mind... she could sympathize.

Earlier wasn't far from her mind either. But they had to ignore that for now, and focus on far more immediate problems.

She tilted her head, observing his words. Arms crossed beneath her bust as she did, shifting her feet. "There was something about you, on Nar Shaddaa..." she let those words trail, but perhaps he would know what she meant. His effortless takedown of those thugs in the building. How he was almost graceful, as well-trained as a machine. If their lives weren't in dire danger, she would have admired how he took them down without spilling a drop of blood.

Not like others, like Lorcan, who almost seemed to relish the brutality of taking down their enemies. Even in combat, he was merciful. An odd trait in this galaxy.

At his question, however, both brows raised. He wanted to spar her? Here? Now?

A few hours ago, perhaps, she might have said no, given the thought of injuries, possible complications. A few events definitely scrubbed those professional doubts in her mind.

"You mean sparring?" she queried calmly, then shrugged. Though the scowl had dropped from her lips... there almost seemed a dangerous ghost of a smile lurking in her features, tugging at her jacket for emphasis.

"Sure, why not. But I have the feeling you'll be teaching me a lot more than you'd think. Let's set up then," she nodded to the trees. Surely there would be a clearing there... though tussling in the sand would be softer, there was the more immediate problem of wet sand and unknown objects, particularly any debris from the falling ship.

Plus, if any enemies came closer to the camp, they would have the cover of trees to use to advantage. At least... that's what she rationalized to herself.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Nar Shaddaa. At its mention, a flurry of memories filtered through his mind as if in a holovid. The undercover contact with no name. A woman facing away in a golden dress. A hand on his face. A night to remember. An early morning in the sub-level slums. A Pantoran girl who needed help. A blast-pocked bar. Two gunmen. A knife to the throat and a barrel to the gut. Ah, she meant the trick with the bottle. Everything he learned for that stunt, besides the aim of his sidearm, was all through tough experience. Lives spent at Outpost Blue and the bases on Cona; each death teaching him a new eternal truth of combat. The off-duty Ranger wondered if he could teach those things without the high cost.

At her question of sparring, which might have been rhetorical, the young man nodded once seriously. While he was a below average fist-fighter, he had gained in skill over his time as a Ranger. There was some confidence he was better than Ilana, until he thought he saw that feline grin for just a moment. Maybe he should be on his toes.

With her agreement secured, the Arkanian suggested a spot in the trees not too distant from the downed ship. That made some sense, both to avoid the problems that a sandy, wet beach provided and get some cover from any unwanted guests. “Good idea,” Corran confirmed and walked with the doctor by her side. Their natural area was well-chosen. The scattered trunks of nearby trees provided a vague “ring” for them to spar in and the ground was even. The roots of trees didn’t protrude from the soil except in a few rare places, meaning hazards to bump one’s head was lower. All it took was for Corran to pick up a few sticks and twigs, haul a few stones, and everything was pretty much ready.

“Let’s go over some ground rules,” the blond youth said as he hung up his jacket on a nearby branch and set his blaster holster at the base. The sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps as he folded his arms and stood to face her. “I assume you already know the basics of street fighting, so no punching of the throat,” he gestured to his esophagus, “and nothing below the belt.” He gripped his literal belt buckle as if to demonstrate. “Rule number two, if someone taps out, that is the end of it. I don’t want a broken arm or something.”

Corran held up three fingers from his folded arms, “Final rule. No Force powers.” His eyebrow twitched and he stared her down with a minor smirk on his face. “Yet.” The idea hadn’t dawned on him until just that moment, but the opportunity couldn’t be ignored. The Ranger had never had a Force power used on him as an attack, but he had seen the abilities in action. He didn’t know the extent of Ilana’s own powers, besides her extra-sensory perception and the incredible shove that destroyed that battle droid. If he could gain experience fighting someone like that, he might just live longer in combat against a Jedi or Sith when so few others rarely got the chance to try again.

Unfolding his arms and placing his hands on his hips, the young man waited a few moments before continuing, “If the rules are acceptable, we can start.” Corran eyed the wintery woman from the stand-off distance, sizing her up. He didn’t know the extent of her own prowess in hand-to-hand. Best not to assume anything lest he arrogantly explain things she already knew. “Where would you like to begin?”

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She crossed her arms, listening as he laid out a few basic rules of engagement before they began. Simple, and easy enough to follow; it seemed her partner had some experience in reg training and basic combat as well. Considering his physique.. her eyes traveled up and down as well, sizing him up in equal measure. Eyes lingered for a moment on arms, hips. No slow, out of shape gangster was he; a memory flashed into focus of the last few hours, and she fought the urge to nibble on her lower lip.

Instead she nodded once, shrugging off her own jacket and holster, feeling the chill bite into her arms, ghost along long tendrils of hair. Holding up a slim finger, she pulled an elastic from off her wrist, pulling the long strands back into a ponytail. A few tendrils brushed against her cheeks and throat, and she hummed once in contemplation, her voice soft. "Agreed," she rasped quietly.

At his question of beginning, however...

She gave him a full smile.

Brilliant, no holds barred grin, amber eyes glinting with sudden warmth and humor as she slid into a traditional kickboxing stance; body angled to the right, arms held in a neutral hitting stance, left leg further than her right. However, she wasn't going to pause there for him to get his own bearings.

Instead she charged straight in for it, left elbow jamming in towards his sternum. As it did, she would lash her left leg out, shifting weight to her right, intent to sweep his legs and bring him down while he would be distracted with the elbow. Regardless if the left elbow would be blocked or not, barring if he fell, she would follow through with a short, sharp jab to his solar plexus for her right fist. If he would fall however, she would attempt to shift back to her right leg, to avoid any flailing limbs or an effort for him to sweep her own legs out from under her.

She wasn't going to be merciful just yet. They were only getting started.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

As the Arkanian woman prepped, the Ranger stood there with his hands on his hips, eyeing her and waiting patiently. He was somewhat intrigued by the ease in which Ilana styled her hair into a pony-tail. It was the first time he had seen her with her hair up that way. It looked sporty and, frankly, very cute. Like a high school or girl-next-door appeal. As interesting as that was, the next thing the doctor did was enrapturing. She smiled. Not a smirk. Not a grin. Not a flash of mild amusement. A full, open, genuine smile. Even her golden eyes seemed to shine like a warm sun on a spring day after a frigid winter. Corran's mouth even hung open in a mixture of surprise, wonder, and admiration. Would he ever see something like this again? Why did she hide such a naturally welcoming and beautiful smile? Maybe he could coax it out of her again, if he knew what buttons to push. What if --

Corran's thoughts were interrupted by sharp, blunt pain to his chest. Oh. She got him. So dazzled by a once-in-a-lifetime experience, the blond youth didn't even recognize the woman dropping into a fighting stance and moving rapidly into striking distance. So surprised was he, that even as his feet were swept out from under him with gale-force swiftness, Corran's face still looked more innocently confused than in pain. That immediately changed once his back impacted the forest floor with a united, heavy thud. Instinctively, the young man began rolling away as if trying to put out a fire. Within a blink of an eye, he was already back on his feet. The Ranger was quick to recover, that much was obvious.

Blue eyes glared from under dented eyebrows and over raised, clenched fists. The larger man bobbed with a little sway, clearly taking a traditional fighting stance. Face and torso protected. Hunched over. Powerful arms locked back like battering rams. Only women Corran had ever hit was his fellow recruits in Ranger Training. One more exception wouldn't hurt. The bobbing stopped for a second, before the young man's kicked off the ground like a shotgun, kicking up dirt behind them. He had to close the range. The young man would throw a few powerful, aimed jabs, at her upper chest and head, to get the Arkanian on the backfoot, before throwing a wild haymaker swing to try and get the doctor to duck. If she did, a knee would be rising up swiftly to meet her in the stomach.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She didn't bother dodging the hits; why would she? It was all part and parcel of sparring. Though his hits for the first jab were caught by her right arm's block, the haymaker to her side made her reflexively shout. Less damage and pain if there wasn't as much air in the chest, and could disarm an opponent. As his knee swept up to address her midriff she bowed her spine to soften the impact. She responded in kind with elbow down to the muscle of his inner thigh, using the sharper edge to make it bruise, and then her right palm lashing out in a hard strike to the nose.

Now that kicking was in the equation, she shifted weight to the left leg instead, right one aiming a solid kick to his hip/waist area with her knee leading, intending to knock some wind out of him. If the hits landed, she would resume the defensive.

Panting, she chuckled once, giving him a sly, almost teasing smirk. It seemed sparring was one way to pull emotions out of her.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

She was durable. He'd give her that. The Ranger had expected her to dodge, but a white right arm stood firm against a sledge of fists. As his haymaker struck her in the side, a shout erupted. It forced Corran to wince. Not enough to slow him down. His knee rose up like a rocket but it didn't make the hard impact he expected. It felt nearly soft by mental comparison. So light, in fact, that the blond youth lost his balance. A lance of pain erupting from his thigh didn't help either. A groan fought through gritted teeth as Ilana dug a strong elbow into his upper leg. The young man was titling backwards now. A flat palm rose up with incredible force to strike him. Thankfully, and to no skill of his own, he was already tilting backwards in a stumble and so the open-palmed blow slapped his jaw instead of his more vulnerable nose. Teeth clattered inside his own head. Without any time to prepare a defense, a strong kick lashed into Corran's waist.

Due to being off balance, the blow changed his trajectory, which lessened the air being literally kicked out of his lungs. In only a semi-controlled twirl, the man performed nearly two loops before barely stopping himself by dragging a heavy boot along the forest floor. Dirt once again being kicked up by his heel. The Ranger opened his mouth and rubbed his jaw roughly with a groan. When he focused his eyes back on his lithe opponent, he was greeted by an amused, sly smirk. This was more emotion in seconds than he had seen in months. Shame he had to put her down.

Acknowledging her defensive stance, Corran clenched his jaw and took the offensive. There would be not textbook attack this time. It was all rough experience and school-yard brawl. Charging like a Reek beast, he would put all his effort into looking like he was flat-out trying to ram the doctor. His true aim is to rush past her, where her redoubtable forearms couldn't protect as easily. If Corran did manage to trick her into staying defensive, or anticipating a counter-attack and ducking beneath it, he would immediately swivel on his hips and try to bring a bludgeoning punch to the Arkanian's lower back, near the kidneys. He'd follow it up with a kick to the back of her knee, to get her low enough to land a final kick that would send her into the dirt.

Failing all that, he would put all his locomotive force into slamming into her with his shoulder. Anything to get her on the backfoot.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She had to admit, that stunned look on his face was rather charming. As was when he gave her a look with lowered brows. It was a shame she didn't have a camera on hand. Her ribs ached, her stomach was sore, one arm would definitely bruise; yet none of it would connect with the absolute hard-hitting power of a man raw-charging her straight ways.

So she could have gone on the defensive. She could have put up her arms to fend off the brunt of his forward swings, or duck out of the way. But really, there was one option there that would work to her advantage, even as focused as he was, his feet were getting in ahead of his head.

So instead of blocking or playing his game of taking hits, she used her focus and willpower to simply slide her left foot to the side, and as his arm would charge forward for a hard kidney strike, she moved. It would have seemed like she moved forward into the maneuver, but just as the full brunt of the swing would start to charge, she slid her right leg behind her, making her turn on her point of center mass.

His knuckles still managed a solid partial blow, but she was still moving, but it dragged out a grunted huff of pain. His kick landed air as she would use his own momentum to propel him forward on his own weight and focus. If the movement was successful, she would follow through with a sharp yank of her own, grounding her feet in the dirt, to pull his arm up and back and force him to tumble before releasing.

When this was over, she would definitely ache to move for the next few weeks. He was strong, far stronger than she assumed. If he was any of the thugs she would have faced previous, she would have been in far worse shape than when they first met. So far she was lucky he hadn't tried to sweep her legs so far either for the time he hit dirt. That wouldn't have ended well.

As it was, she felt charged with energy, clear-headed and alert.

But also... there was a definite roguish charm to him when he scowled that way. It was damn distracting.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

The scheme went awry almost immediately. Instead of a satisfying thud of his knuckles into an unprepared opponent, the young man’s fist allowed only a glancing blow. Ilana had shifted out of danger, but apparently had still absorbed some abuse by her repressed grunt. Maybe he could still follow-through. A charged kick only managed to catch air as the doctor pivoted, forcing Corran to propel forward awkwardly under his own momentum. A sudden vice gripped his arm, pulling it back, and the ground became the sky for a second. It then became his mattress as his back slammed into the dirt. That was the second time she had laid him out today. Instinctively, the blond youth rolled onto his stomach and forced himself off the forest floor with a rapid one-armed push-up.

She’s fast on her feet, he thought as he held his shoulder and rotated the arm the Arkanian woman had used as leverage in a circle, to ease the soreness in it. That wasn’t the only thing bothering him. All her hits to his thigh and chest with that sharp elbow was going to create ouchies. Corran hated ouchies. Only way to stop those was to slow her down. Getting Ilana on the backfoot wasn’t good enough. The Ranger needed her off her feet.

Fists raised once more as blue eyes stared unblinking over them. It seemed like he was returning to a classic boxing style. Would he try to slug her into defeat? A battle of endurance? The bobbing returned as the young man’s broad shoulders bounced up and down in sync. This time he did not rush her, but shuffled forward with his boots firmly planted to close the small gap. Keeping his forearms facing her, Corran would try to keep up a flurry of jabs to keep her from trying any fancy moves and keep her from sweeping his legs out again. Once he got close enough, he would do the unexpected: a grappling bear hug with all his strength. Physically lifting her off her feet and tackling her to the ground.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

So at least he was trying to no longer rush her; he seemed slow to approach, shuffling with a hard defense. So far so good. He was learning, but that bobbing... was he hoping to outbox her somehow. At the jabs she held up her arms to block them from landing too heavily at her face or upper torso.

Which was why, when he tackled her, she barked out a yelp, leg jerking up in reaction. It was a last-ditch effort aimed for his stomach as she hit the dirt hard, biting down on the inside of her cheek. She could taste blood.

Squirming in retaliation to her arms being pinned by his, there was one thing she could do really.

She tilted her head back as though to look up at him... and the smile was still in place. Warm, gentle, the kind of smile that one would give to someone special.

That was before she whipped her head forward, intending to hit hard enough to stun him, or at least smack his jaw to take him off guard, then attempted to lift with her hips to try and flip them over, hopefully freeing her arms in the process. Unless he was really keen to hold on to her that tightly.

She could practically feel his pulse against her, though. And why was he always so warm?

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

He got her! He got HER! There was a rush of exhilaration for the first time since the duel began. Ilana's yelp sounded like sweet music to his competitive ears. As they fell through the air, Corran felt like he was flying. That is, until the dirt collided with him again. Thankfully, he had an Arkanian for a cushion this time. Though something like her knee or thigh pressed against his waist. It didn't matter though, he had her wrapped up tight between his arms and no distance meant she couldn't wind up. The man tightened his grip as the doctor struggled and squeezed his eyes, expecting a counter-blow to try and break free. No great strike came. In fact, it was the absence of any movement at all that caused the Ranger to open his eyes in curiosity.

A smile like none other before greeted him. There was no mistaking it was one of affection. For him. But he had seen this once before. A gleam of joy before striking like a viper. Corran had to think fast. Come on, use your head! With no other option, he reeled his head back and swung it forward with all the force he could muster. His forehead met another sooner than he expected. Sharp pain zig-zagged like lightning through his head and down his neck. The two had head-butted each other simultaneously. On instinct, Corran released an arm around her to cover his forehead and he groaned loudly in surprised anguish. At the same moment, the woman under him pushed up with her hips, causing the blond youth to flip over. However, the sudden movement forced him to push through the pain and he kept his other arm tight around her. Ilana wouldn't be able to push off so easily. Once the momentum stalled, she was still on top of him, but a single strong arm gripped tightly on her side, keeping one of her own arms out of action. In a frantic reaction, Corran would try to grab her wrist of the freed hand and bring it under control.

You know, in any other circumstance, this would be heavenly. That soothing, icy touch. The jolts Ilana so easily gave him. But there was something new emanating from her. An energy unlike she had ever shown him. And he liked it.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She grunted out in pain at the same time he did, the impact of his skull against her making her moan out as well, then utter a low, hissed "kark," as she managed to flip them around somehow. Pain radiated from her forehead down her shoulders, and she knew beyond a doubt once this was over she'd probably have a bruise there to face in the morning.

When he lashed out an arm she instinctively lashed out in retaliation to grip on his forearm, legs locked around his waist and breathing heavily. She could already feel twigs and leaves in her hair, but none of it mattered. It was just the two of them... but this was no longer sparring. This was asserting dominance, something she excelled in personally and professionally.

It was a need to be the stronger one. The one always on top, who had to make it through no matter what. Never had she faced someone, and had them not only roll with the punches, but retaliate with a few of his own, both literally and figuratively. So really, there was one option she could pursue to neutralize this struggle... and give in.

Fail successfully.

She stopped struggling. She let him grapple her arms, but she was no longer struggling herself. The smile was still touched on her lips, but she was slowing down, stilling. She then leaned forward slowly.

It was a gamble, but a risky one with great payout if it worked. She still felt charged, cheeks flushed and energy humming in every nerve. She always felt alive with sparring, but with him as the opponent it was different.

"I guess this means you win..." she whispered throatily, amber eyes tracking over his face as her smile slowly turned into a warm, knowing smirk. "So tell me. What does the winner want?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A swift, cold hand lashed out like a constrictor and bite hard on his forearm. In return, Corran retained his durasteel grip on Ilana's other arm. The fight had become more of a schoolyard scuffle, dirt both trying to grapple with the other in the grass. His hair had become ruffled and messy from the intense engagement and repeatedly being thrown to the earth. Some dirt smeared on his cheek and collarbone. Even though the Arkanian was on top of him, the young man felt like he still held advantage. They were in a close-quarters brawl and her fancy footwork didn't help here. Even as the Ranger fought to break his other arm free of her clutches, he braced himself for a brutal blow.

One never came. Strength seemed to sap from her grip and eventually her arms altogether. Was Ilana tiring out? Taking advantage of the situation, the blond youth broke free of her grasp and snatched her wrist and then took the opportunity to grab her other wrist from his other over-extended grapple. He expected the fight to arise back in her, but no. She was practically limp. Had they reached a stalemate? With a smile on her lips, Ilana leaned closer. Blue eyes tracked her every move, expecting some sort of violent retort. A cunning, alluring whisper of impossible words caused him to freeze. The young man was still, silent, and his grip remained solid on her wrists. Under dented eyebrows, he stared at her in incredulously.

Laughter followed. Deep, jovial laughter. Once it had breathlessly subsided, Corran sneered at his opponent, "You must be a one trick bantha. You think I'm going to fall for that a third time?" The first was when the fight started, which nearly finished him in one blow. The second was the attempt to knock him unconscious with her very skull. All those vicious attacks had begun with wondrous smiles, beautiful eyes, and the sweet succor of affection he loved from Ilana. Only to be bamboozled and accosted immediately after he took the bait. The young man did forgive himself a little; how could he be unaffected by all those things? Ilana could be overpowering with a wink and a smirk, much less a full-blown smile and loving nuzzle. But none of that would stop him now. As usual, hard-won experience in physical pain had taught him not to fall for her ruse.

Like cuffs, Corran kept his hands tight on her wrists. If she wanted to strike, she'd have to use her head and he'd see that coming.

@Killa Ree