Ask By The Books

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She had her back to the entrance, but could hear his footfalls, and the smell.. her nose twitched, once, at the curious smell. Closing her eyes a brief moment, she was about to shrug her shirt back on when she caught a strain of emotion from him that caused her to turn her head, the shirt still held in her hands. Seeing him clear his throat and shake his head, however, she offered a quirked brow at his sudden speechlessness and glanced at the food in his hands.

"I'm surprised you could find ingredients at all, I don't typically leave leftovers," she replied quietly, then seeing his vague gestures, she gave a small shrug. "That above-hit you gave was pretty solid; if I hadn't have moved it would've done a lot more damage." She lightly rested her hand over the deep bruise, giving him a calm-eyed stare. "It's just a bone bruise, nothing serious. Even if it were, bar immobilizing my arm, there is nothing that can be done apart from taking care."

She stepped in though, head tilted as though amber eyes could scan him from the inside out. "I know you don't believe me... but I'm fine. Truly. A little rest will make it easier to manage." She reached out as though to touch him in return, but hesitated, white brows denting. "Are you alright?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

She was right to be surprised. Finding anything that wasn’t pre-packaged, meant for one, or required a lot more preparation and cooking time in this entire ship was basically impossible. Some unorthodox solutions needed to be taken with what was one hand, plus a little cheating using the mini-heater to warm up some components, along with the wraps themselves. Truth be told, Corran had used the best of what he could scrounge up for Ilana’s meal and whatever was left for his own. He’d survive – it was warm meat after all.

Setting down his own container, the blond youth stared at the painful looking wound near the Arkanian’s collarbone until she covered it up. A bone bruise. He’d never heard of it before. It sounded less bad than a break. He offered a gentle nod to convey understanding that only time and rest could heal the injury. Immobilizing it, while ideal, was out of the question. Being temporarily stranded didn’t allow either of them to surrender an arm.

A step closer by the shirtless Ilana caused a spike of excitement that quickly subsided. She would sense that and he knew it. Her golden eyes felt like they were seeing right through him, like X-rays to the soul. The doctor assured him she would alright in a truly sincere way with no hint of prideful resistance. “I believe you…” Corran replied softly, trusting her. A white hand approached, causing another much smaller spike of anticipation that vanished as quickly as it came. She hesitated and let her words convey what her touch likely would have.

“I feel alright…” The Ranger sounded unsure. The jacket was shrugged off first and placed on a nearby stool. With one hand, he untucked his dirtied shirt and lifted it up to above his pecks. Purple, green, red, and blue dotted his torso from waist to chest. A particularly noticeable blot was right where her kicks had landed. “Oof,” Corran winced more out of realization than additional pain, “You got me pretty good.” That explained how he ultimately lost the duel. Successive blows to the same, increasingly weakened area. A brief thought wondered if this was a real combat scenario if he’d be dead or captured. Still holding his shirt up, blue eyes rose to meet her amber stare. Her lambent eyes acted like a light-house for his own. Otherwise they would have gotten distracted along the way by her other features. “What’s your professional opinion? Am I cleared?” He asked seriously, trusting her abilities.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Seeing the bruises... she exhaled steadily, but there was no other word to be said. She could feel the frisson of excitement from the Ranger as she approached, and once again it moderately surprised her. She knew she was considered a type of attractive to most humanoid species, but for some reason he especially seemed to find her intriguing. And it in turn spurred on her curiosity. Even after being beaten, tossed to the ground and assaulted, he was still attracted to her.

Not for the first time, she wondered what it would take to turn him off, not that she would explore it just yet. Instead the coldness of her hand lightly ghosted over some of the darker bruises, not touching. He didn't seem to have anything broken.. but she didn't feel any measure of pride from that. Something about fighting him brought out the underground fighting in her. Dirty. Hard. No holds barred. She wouldn't apologize, but once again she'd hurt someone she cared for, this time directly.

Registering his question, she instead blinked back to awareness. Subtly clearing her throat, she turned her eyes away. Perhaps it was his youth, vitality... but there was just something so attractive to having him there. Shirt off, casually leaning back. Part of her wanted to touch, to hold, because there was a part of him that felt safe. A safety she'd never really had. But part of her felt like it was a fragile illusion. One wrong word, one wrong thing and he would vanish.

A small part of her, deep down, knew it was inevitable. He would turn on her. But for now, he was just standing there, with her damage on full display... and yet he wanted to care for her. She truly didn't deserve it.

"...Yeah, nothing's broken," she muttered, but gaze flicked back up to meet his. Golden eyes glimmered, almost like speculation, and she wordlessly turned away to pick up the wrap. But based on smell alone, she knew it was bound to be good. Like him, Corran's cooking skills seemed of the set from a wholesome connection. Probably his mother's influence. Just before raising the wrap to her lips, however, she cocked her head at him.

"Have any questions?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A brief chortle and a scoff came on the heels of the doctor’s casual examination. While she had been nothing but gentle (she didn’t have to be for the worst injuries), her ‘official’ answer was almost comically blunt and vague. “I’ll take that as a stamp of approval,” Corran chided back. Ilana’s eyes shimmered like gold treasure at him, though they seemed to be saying something he couldn’t figure out. He tucked his shirt back into his pants, making sure to avoid his bruises. For the time being he left his jacket off, but set it on the counter near his lunch and sat on the stool it once guarded.

A query for questions was answered by the Ranger taking a bite out of his wrap and chewing it over. Did Ilana mean questions about his medical condition or was it more open than that? The succulent taste of warm meat in his mouth distracted him for a moment and he closed his eyes to savor it. Compared to a ration bar and sleeping outside in the chill mountain air, a warm meal went a long way to rejuvenating someone. Even after they got pummeled by a smaller opponent. With a gulp, Corran opened his eyes again to look at that very opponent. Even if it was about his condition, the opportunity was right there. He'd take it.

"Yeah, I do, actually," the young man said, "Why did you seem so... elated back there? During the match, I mean." It was direct, but something that had been eating at him since he witnessed the wide smile. The one at the start of the match. Before she swept his feet out from under him and began the beat down. Throughout the entire fight, Ilana's emotions were as clear as midday. Joy, then grief, then anger. He saw them all. It was stunning and startling in equal measure. If they were going to work together, and if he really did like her as much as he thought, understanding her mattered. Quite a bit. As if to force her hand to speak, the blond youth took another bite of his wrap and watched her expectantly.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

While she waited for the questions to begin, she also picked up the wrap, savoring the warmth it emanated into her chilled hands, then taking a small bite. Hearing his question, she merely tilted her head slightly, pausing to swallow before replying quietly, her tone hesitant.

"It was... the first time I had seen you fight," she answered quietly, eyes lowering to the wrap, holding onto it with both hands. "In a combat, you can't hide what you really are inside. You also didn't hold back. It was... nice.. to be treated as an equal. Is that such an odd thing?" Her gaze flicked back up to his, taking another small bite.

She couldn't open her mouth much, after all. It was still sore to even talk, really.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A face of drawn-in curiosity slowly morphed into confused contemplation. With a cocked eyebrow, eyes scanning her over, and another mouthful of the lunch wrap, it was clear the blond youth was forcing his own mental cogs to turn to process this new information. Ilana had seen him fight before with a blaster, but she probably meant ‘fight’ as in physical combat. Her answer spawned more questions. She had gained a reputation for doing that.

He finally swallowed. “You’re not a Mandalorian, are you?” A beat and a tilt of his head, “Or like raised by Mandalorians?” To the common spacer like himself, her sentiments about combat showing one’s true self and being seen as equal in a duel sounded like it came from that ancient warrior culture. Corran had only run into enough Mandalorians to count on one hand and still have some fingers left over. Though, on second thought, wouldn’t she wear the armor? He thought that was a rule they had.

Regardless of how she answered, the young man would shift the wrap to one hand and hold it over the container to prevent any untoward spills, while the other gestured towards the Arkanian as if she could physically give him a response into the palm of his hand. “So, does that mean you’re a happy, smiley girl on the inside? What did you see in me? Is fighting the only way to… to…” The questions spilled out so quickly his mouth had outran his brain and stumbled to find the words. Corran bounced his extended hand and furrowed his brow, trying to summon the words. He finally settled on something, “Is there another way?”

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

For a moment, she just stared at him, unblinking. Her, a Mando? She held the wrap in her hands, and then suddenly...

A snort came out. And then a sudden, jerked out laugh, ending on a cough and a wince. Out of her confession, he pulled out the possibility of being a Mandalorian? Interesting concept, but not one she would have wanted to pursue. "Hardly," she replied dryly, setting the food aside for now. It was hard to talk and eat, after all. "I was raised a politician's daughter... and she would have considered this," her hand gestured back and forth between them, "bestial. No. What I meant was... when you're fighting someone, there's no pretense. They react with their nature, and most see me as a vulnerable, small target. It was refreshing to fight someone who didn't treat me like I was weak."

But hearing his final question... she stilled. Golden eyes glimmered slightly, head cocked subtly. "There are many ways to know me, Ranger Velt," she answered simply, her voice soft. "One of the ways, you've already experienced. Two ways, now. I don't... trust people, as a general rule. But you've more than earned mine."

She stared at him, pale face taking on an earnest, calm cast. "You fought tough, hard. You can be aggressive, you can adapt. There were a few times you could have easily, handily bested me, but you didn't." She picked up the wrap again, taking a small bite once more. When it was swallowed, she flicked her gaze back up to his, leaning against her examiner bench. "You're strong and smart. I hope the next time we spar you can believe it, rather than just take a word for it."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Out of all the possible reactions, a snort and startled laugh was not one Corran expected. Not to say he didn't like it. The surprising laughter caused him to also grin and chuckle lightly sympathetically. Once quite rare, Ilana's natural expressions were becoming more common and he cherished and enjoyed them quite a bit. After refuting the Mandalorian possibility, the young man felt relaxed enough to take another large bite of his meal and ate without breaking his attention to the conversation at hand. A politician's daughter? That was a major revelation to just pass by. Though, now that he thought about it, it did explain her reserved and controlled nature. The lowliest of political figures knew that any outburst could be bad for public perception, even among their family.

At the mention of this between them, the young man smirked ever so slightly and cocked an eyebrow. That smirk evaporated when at 'bestial.' Corran had been called many things, but bestial was not one of them. Rigid, strict, maybe even prideful, but that seemed a little far. Whoever Ilana's mother was, she must truly be the elite of their world. As the Arkanian explained her view on fighting, the Ranger could feel the serious turn in the conversation. He swallowed and set the remnants of the wrap aside, without looking away. The blond youth blinked a few times, perplexed. How could someone look at Ilana Morata and see her as small? Weak? Describing her as 'vulnerable' was practically insulting. Those descriptions of her had never crossed his mind. It dawned on him in a small way, that maybe because of that... he was here. They were here.

Using his official rank forced Corran to sit perfectly upright. A habit drilled into him by years of training, both spacer and Ranger alike. Few things could break his discipline once summoned. She found a way. He noticeably but subtly tilted backwards in surprise, eyes widened, that the doctor would so plainly say that she trusted him. I mean, by her actions, such a thing was implied but he never expected her to say it out loud. Back in an empty tavern on Corellia, he had assumed every word she said was a lie and now... this. The Ranger and the Doctor had come a long way. He felt the urge, the need, to reciprocate. "I trust you too, Ilana," Corran said, leaning forward now, his voice low and sincere, barely above a whisper.

Her stare silenced him again. The assessment of his fighting style, and by proxy himself, was flattering. It felt less like a studious professor handing out a grade, but more like a close friend offering tips to improve. Ilana wouldn't sugar-coat it either. He could take all her feedback as honest judgement. Corran's own evaluation of physical prowess was quite low, practically feeble, so it was nice to know that someone, especially someone like Ilana, thought he was more a diamond in the rough than just charred coal. "So, that means they'll be a next time?" That stupid boyish grin slinked across the young man's face. A slight tinge of excitement and tease in his voice.

He visually grew more somber. Blue eyes flicked up to her, studying her features, before dancing away. A question that had been out of reach for so long was finally within grasp. By nature of his own upbringing, it had prodded at the back of his mind for quite a while. Social graces forbid it ever be asked, but it was so plainly there. It was time, for there would be none better. Corran took a breath, then raised his head to face the wintry woman. "You mentioned being a politician's daughter. Is the 'she' you mentioned... your mother?" The words sounded as carefully said as someone walking through an active minefield. "What's she like?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

He nearly got his ass kicked and yet he seemed eager for round two. Either he was reckless about his personal health, or he just enjoyed being kicked around. She felt an odd warmth in her chest, though, when he stated he trusted her too; a hard thing to come by. Perhaps, it was easier earned. But... it was a start, at least, and a far cry from Corellia.

But then... he hesitated, looked away. She stilled, taking another bite, and allowing him time to speak what was on his mind. But when he asked the question, it was her turn to hesitate. She set the wrap aside and sighed quietly, looking away. He was bound to ask eventually. He had mentioned his own mother before, after all, so he must have been curious. But any lightness or joviality that was in the room earlier had dashed from it as surely as a bucket of water with fire.

Her arms crossed beneath her bust, eliciting another smothered wince at the twinge. "...Yes," she finally replied, jaw tight. The words seemed reluctantly pried out of her, and suddenly she felt tired. Just thinking about the woman made her tired. When he asked what she was like, a memory immediately flashed to mind. A garden, a perfect circle of perfectly cut green grass and white stone around it. A tall, thin, pale woman, with swept up white hair and piercing, marble-white eyes that stared down at her from her height, dressed in a striking deep blue dress. How even a look could level her and make her feel like the pale imitation she was.

The failure, her and her bad genes. That such a failed genetic merging made her seek success elsewhere, a pureblooded Arkanian taking on Paqualis III by storm. How her mother's voice could be crystalline, clear, and ringing. And yet, could cut you like so many shards of glass. Even a simple look could cut her down, just like that.

She swallowed hard again, her throat suddenly dry. Her voice came out soft however, as though saying them too loudly would break distance and time and suddenly summon her here to judge her once more, a failed experiment. "Proud," she replied once, shortly. "Intelligent. Cunning, even. She can make you feel like the singular person in the room, and equally cut you down without a word. Beautiful... cruel." The last one was whispered, almost sibilant in the restraint. "Charming, if you're an outsider."

And just like that, her appetite vanished. She set the food in its' container and looked away, arms locked tightly in a cross beneath her bust and shoulders tensed, as though fending off a blow.

She wouldn't meet his eyes. She wasn't sure if she even could, just the memory alone was enough to make her feel cold, sick to her stomach with dread.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Frigid. Usually Corran liked Ilana's coldness - a cool glass of ice against your forehead on a hot summer's day. But this was different. An aura of solid ice emanated from her. With her arms folded defensively and jaw clenched, Ilana was freezing him out. If it was intentional or merely the mention of her mother illiciting a raw reaction remained to be seen. The Ranger prayed it was the latter; that meant he hadn't gone too far. As she spoke, it was clear the blond youth was enraptured by every word she said and everything left unsaid. His eyes blinked sparingly, trying to take in every twitch, scowl, and movement that indicated some hint into the doctor's body language. Unlike her, Corran didn't have the same ability to read and understand people with incredible clairvoyance. He would have to try his best to rely on his investigative training, along with his understanding of her, to translate everything into a coherent message.

Ilana Morata used words that one might to describe another you hold in high regard. But the tone was anything but. Words like beautiful and cunning seemed to held aloft bitterly. Cruel alone carried enough venom to paralyze a wookie. Her mother must have been a person both wondrous and terrible in equal measure to others, but callous at best to her own child. The young man's brow furrowed for a moment as a thought flashed across his mind, leaning onto his knees and pressing his thumbs against his lips. How could someone's own mom be cruel? Such a concept was foreign to him, but it still troubled him. The brows relaxed and his eyes scanned the wintry woman. Food stashed aside, arms locked tight as a vault, shoulders hard as stone. Her profile, even damaged as it was, seemed clenched. Even lambent eyes stared away in discomfort. He had forced her to tread uncomfortable ground - he had to do something about it.

Corran sat still for a moment, unmoving and silent. Blue eyes shifted only ever so slightly, examining the side of her face. Wordlessly, he rose from his seat and took a few quiet strides before suddenly wrapping his arms around her. It wasn't an embrace of support, for someone in need. No, it was a hug of affection. Of being closer to someone you cared for. It was gentle as to not press on the doctor's injuries, but it was secure enough to not be merely shrugged off. He held her this way without speaking for a brief amount of time. Then he spoke in a low voice, above a whisper, "You're different than your mother, you know." That hung in the air for a beat. "You're not cruel or unjustly proud." He tilted his head to regard her, seeing if her countenance was responding at all. "Charming, if you're an insider." That last one was followed by playful nudge. "Maybe more than different. Maybe better. To me, you are everything good and more."

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

He listened. She could sense little else from him apart from patience, waiting out the words that fell from her lips with the softness of feathers but the heaviness of stones. She didn't want to look at him, because surely, if the mother was this way, then her daughter could be---

She didn't have the chance to finish that thought before he stepped in to her personal space. Her head turned up to him, golden eyes widened slightly at the sudden movement, and when his arms wrapped around her she stiffened, arms still crossed between them. Immediate warmth, comfort, not just physically but emotionally, wrapped around her, and she wasn't prepared for any of it. Finally, she began to shift, to melt ever so slightly into the embrace, tilting her head so her cheek rested against his chest.

It was... nice.

But at his words, she blinked back to awareness. Cruelty, pride. She grimaced slightly, a memory of a tortured Karkarodon flashed to mind. "You don't know that..." she murmured throatily, muffled by his shirt. "I could be capable of cruelty, if I felt those I care for were threatened." A weak protest, but in her bones she knew it to be true. If anyone tried to hurt Corran, she would end them without a second thought. Just like the Karkarodon for Kai. She still felt no remorse for eliminating a possible threat; perhaps they weren't so different after all.

But at his final words, her heart stuttered, and her throat closed. Looking up to meet him, brows dented. "...Yeah?" she finally managed, shoulders slumping. "You'd be the first to think that, then. Compared to you..." she was about to say, then shook her head slightly, arms sliding around his own waist, sighing.

There was no comparison. For once, she was going to try to not think that he willingly stepped in and touched her, had in fact been doing so ever since Corellia. Don't think about the fact that he looked at her like she was some rare, unearthly being in need of a gentle touch. Don't think about how good he was.

It never lasts, so don't bother thinking about it. You know it; the galaxy takes its' fair share sooner or later.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

It had been a risk. Hugs held a certain weight to Ilana, more so than other types of physical interaction, as far as Corran could surmise. She could have sat rigidly, defying any comfort. She could have shoved him away, denying the attempt. She might have even rose from her seat order him to leave and then walking away. None of that happened though. Corran had placed all his chips on Ilana accepting it, and the assurance and support the embrace offered. Turns out, he was still a pretty good gambler. At first, she didn’t move much. The young man noticed subtle movements first, as her weight shifted to lean against his torso. Her cold cheek against his chest meant she had accepted the hug completely, though it surprised him. Her face chilled against his warmer body. An ice pack against the bruises.

It was… nice.

He subtly raised a blond eyebrow as the doctor tried to reject his view of her character. Ilana was right, in her own way. He didn’t know, but he had faith she wasn’t cruel or vainly proud. Being capable of cruelty was also true, but only for the sole fact that Ilana Morata was capable of anything, in the young man’s mind. Even that hypothetical act of cruelty had an asterisk. A clause. If someone she cared for was in danger. Even in her own rejection, did Ilana not see the goodness within? Helping, protecting, guarding. She was better than she even knew.

Golden eyes rose, innocent in their hope his words were true. Corran met them with his own and he offered a reassuring grin. Of course he thought that. Since leaving the underworld behind, Ilana had been nothing but incredible. The Ranger was about to shake his head at her attempt at comparison before she quieted herself and wrapped arms around him. A minor, quiet sound of subdued surprise escaped his mouth. It quickly subsided as he regained himself to welcome the returned affection. For a few moments, the young man enjoyed the connection between them. But he couldn’t just let that attempted comparison go. Tenderly, he brushed wintry white hair behind one of Ilana’s ears. He liked doing that more than he expected. “You shouldn’t compare us,” he said with a teasing grin, “It’s really unfair to me.” It was clear he was referencing all the qualities about her already espoused.

Arms returned to resting around the Arkanian woman and companionable silence returned. Though Corran couldn't shake what had led to all this. He knew the doctor didn't talk about her family much, but he didn't think it was because there were sour relations. Perhaps it would have been a rock best left unturned, but they were here now. "You know, I'm not a... a shrink," he said, trying to find the right words as he went along, "But... just know, if you ever want to talk about it at all. Your mother, your family, whatever it is; I'll listen. Promise." That sounded right, but it was missing something. "It doesn't have to be today. Whenever you're ready." There. He knew he couldn't really solve her problems - by the sound of it, only she could - but he could be there for her at least. At most, he'd be ready to help at the first holocall.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Out of all the odds in the galaxy, she liked these ones best. Out of all the planets, they wound up here, and with Ranger Velt no less. She could have been en route anywhere else, alone or worse, and yet he was with her, and he wasn't blaming her for being stranded here. He wasn't calling her out on anything, and when most people would have shrunk away from her verbal and physical battering, he stuck around.

What was more than that, he wanted to be around her. Why, she had no clue. But she could feel her face heat subtly from the prolonged connection; she knew she should take a step back, give them some distance, but she really wasn't sure she could just yet. A soft huff escaped her lips, nearly a laugh, at his own comment of not comparing them. It was unfair? Really?

There were so many instances of his goodness, humility, and humanity she could list, if only for the sake of reminding him that he was more than just the badge that carried out justice. On Nar Shaddaa, a smuggler's child trusted him enough to leave a home that was one of the few places she might have felt a modicum of safety. Their partnership together, though brief, proved to herself he was a far better man than he gave himself credit for being.

Hearing his words though, she merely nodded once. Her voice was soft, almost gentle, as she leaned back to give him an amber eyed stare. Then, slowly, she shook her head. The brush of his fingers to pull her hair behind her ear, however, were a warm shock, and she scrambled to find the words she nearly spoke before.

"I... ah..." she muttered, flushing a pale rose. "Not yet. It's... not an easy listen. There's a lot to it... a lot to figure. But I will. And when I do... I need you there for me to talk about it." She stared up at him, features serious. "I don't think I would be able to with anyone else. Promise me you'll be there when I do?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Only a rising sun on a snow-fallen field could match the colorful shades of pinks and rose when the Arkanian blushed. Such expressions could be missed on other humanoids, aliens and humans alike. They were unmistakable on Ilana and what a sight they were. Her smooth, marble features were a perfect canvas and her ethereal, unknowable aura added to the allure. It made the little moments like this, a woman wanting to be understood and cared for instead of a doctor aloof from it all, that much more special to the young man. He didn't expect her to unseal that deeply guarded vault about her childhood and upbringing soon. In all the stories about Ilana's past, her 'life' seemed to begin when kidnapped by pirates on that doomed expedition. All that came before was never mentioned or referenced. If she was ever to delve into that background, to reckon with it and come to terms, it would take an immense amount of trust.

Corran stared back intently to the golden eyes commanding his attention as the doctor spoke. Her face expressed a seriousness, a responsibility, of what he had volunteered for. It was no small thing. Though the young man had no personal concept of what a trouble home-life was like, he did feel the weight of the promise she was asking of him. No, not a promise. An oath. Corran had never broken an oath and he wouldn't start now, especially... for her. His grip tightened around her to convey the determination in his being. A physical manifestation of his vow and one of support. "I promise, Ilana. I'll be there - even if I have to come from one end of the galaxy to the other." Compared to his tone, durasteel was brittle as a twig. It would be obvious to the Arkanian woman that his words were no mere assurance, but a bond now welded to his personal code. Corran's blue eyes glanced from one lambent eye to the other, searching for her acceptance or understanding.

The smallest of smirks ticked at the edge of his mouth. "Besides, you know you can't get rid of me very easily." An understatement that could be weighted in metric tons. It could be said that the energetic but disciplined Ranger left an impact on everyone he met. If that was true or not remained to be seen, but what was certain was that the people he personally cared about mattered a great deal. Ilana Morata was no exception; more an exemplar of what he was capable of when people got past the badge. Past the rigid professionalism. Past officialdom.

He tilted his head to regard her. It was a shame they had beaten each other so earnestly. It made holding her for too long an eventual problem. A gentle compromise would have to do. As if to seal his promise, the blond youth would press a warm kiss on Ilana's forehead, if she permitted. With great, visible reluctance, the young man loosened his arms the icy woman but still stayed close to her. Corran wordlessly blinked a few times and nibbled on his lower lip with some unspoken thoughts. He looked away to her container of food and sighed lightly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your appetite. I can be a selfish guy sometimes." There was some truth to that and it provided fine kindling to a little guilt that lighted in his gut. He'd have to make it up to her. "I could start on the ship's to-do list early, if you'd like some time."

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Her lips parted slightly in surprise at his solemnness at the vow. She had seen stern, calm, professionalism, but solemnness seemed... almost unlike him. Suddenly, she could see just a glimmer of it. A glimpse of the future Ranger he could be, and she felt unsure. Would he still want to see her, after knowing her past? Her darkness? If he knew the deep, hungry voice that whispered to her in the deepest nights, demanding more than her mere ambitions as a physician, would he want to be around her? Would he still want her, after losing that youthful exuberance? Seeing him smirk, though, was its' own relief; no matter what, there would always be a small part of the Corran she knew inside.

If he ever got hurt, well and truly hurt, she had no idea what she would be capable of doing. How much she would want to do, to destroy any who dared hurt him... to protect him was more than just the willingness of a physician and her patient. He was so much more than just some ranger, but she wasn't ever sure to say the words. Through thick or thin, he seemed to want to stick it out... and when his lips met her forehead, she hissed in a breath of surprise, leaning back to gaze at him.

When he parted, she mourned the warmth, arms reluctantly releasing from his own waist to cross under her bust. At his last words, however, she glanced up, grateful for the topic change. "I'm not that delicate," she retorted. To prove him wrong, she picked the wrap up, forcing herself to take a bite. Swallowing it down, she met his gaze squarely.

"Meet me in the engine room in ten; I believe my toolbox is in my quarters, should be unlocked."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Why did she always seem so quick to look closed off? Almost immediately after they parted, her arms folded against in a seemingly defensive posture. She then sassed him, claiming to be made of tougher stuff. Corran visibly huffed with a satisfied smirk. Oh, he never questioned how tough the Arkanian doctor was. In many ways, she was tougher than him. It was the 'being soft' part she struggled with. The young man watched Ilana defiantly chew on her lunch with a cocked eyebrow in amusement. Well, maybe she was getting better at being soft. After forcing the food down, lambent eyes stared him down. The Ranger didn't flinch or yield.

New orders came swiftly. He couldn't tell if he liked them because they were orders or because they came from her. Nevertheless, he was good at following orders. "Tool box. Your Quarters. Engine room in ten," Corran recited with a cadet-like staccato, "Yes ma'am." He winced and kept his eyes closed in a moment of embarrassment. He shouldn't have said that. It just came out that way. Force of habit. "I mean, sure thing, Ilana." With a twist at the hips, he turned about and made for the exit to avoid any additional heckling. He only slowed his pace to grab the container holding his portion of lunch. He'd finish it on the way and drop off the container near the kitchenette. Food was never something to pass up.

Ilana's quarters were not hard to find, given the small structure of the Quad Five. The young man stood outside the door patiently, eyeing the metal frame like it would reach out and slap his hand away if he approached. Considering their... relations... it dawned on Corran that he hadn't actually ever been into the doctor's room before. She had been in his. It wasn't necessarily a big deal to everyone, but the room on the Crimson Venture he called his own was special. It held little pieces of the young man's life, personality, and dreams. What was in Ilana's room? Was it spartan and empty like the rest of the ship? Could it be filled with rare collections of bones and organs? What if it was littered with all kinds of clothes strewn all over? Very intelligent people were said to be messy. At least, he had heard that somewhere. A hand reached out to the console, hesitated for a breath, then pressed it. The door slid open slowly with a hiss. Corran took a few cautious steps into the private quarters of the reticent Doctor Ilana Morata and steeled himself for whatever greeted him.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She scarfed down the rest of the wrap, not able to taste it anymore through the knot in her throat. Even mentioning the woman was enough for her to feel anxious, inadequate, and small. He did it unintentionally, but even now, she almost felt like the woman's eyes were upon her, judging her appearance. Her alliances. Her eating habits, even. And he was hurt slightly, it seemed. But being called 'ma'am'... she chuckled a little bit at the thought. It wasn't that long ago he called her ma'am the first time, either.

But this time it was different.

But when he would enter the room, he would witness a space entirely alien to the spartan rest of the ship.

Within the room was a riot of plants, in varying sizes. A few had been thrown from their pots as a result of the crash, and seemed a little worse for wear. But several seemed remarkably healthy, even radiant. And the observant eye would have noted a collection of holo novels, as well as an empty pet bed and equally empty food container. The tool box, however, sat on a small desk built in a corner. The bed was neatly pressed and tucked in, and no clothing or tossed things were in sight apart from what had been thrown in the crash.

She took some time to get ready, herself. Ship diagnostics weren't her forte, but hopefully he'd find the box. Perhaps she ought to check...

She stepped his way, also bringing her container with her.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Greenery in vast display, intermixed with buds and blooms that could put a rainbow to shame with their color variety, greeted the Ranger as he stood dumbstruck in the doorway. Some had been violently thrown to the floor in the crash, some merely tipped over. The chaos of plants gave the Arkanian doctor's room an untamed, wild atmosphere. A jungle among the metal. His eyes darted around the bedroom, taking in all the sights and clues. A single boot bravely crossed the threshold before softly stepping down. The second came easier. Corran was careful as he advanced into the once secret and forbidden quarters, stepping over plants and constantly ogling all the new sights. Finely pressed sheets on a pristine bed. He and Ilana were more alike than first thought. The pet bed nearby the mattress gave the young man pause. Had there ever been an animal around? For a pet bed that size and the corresponding food container, it must have been a Loth-cat or some sort of hound. To his recollection, Ilana had never mentioned a pet and he hadn't seen any during his time onboard. What was the story there?

Turning his eyes way from the tiny bedding, the blond youth glimpsed a collection of holonovels. An avid reader himself, a library said a lot about a person in some cases. Many were still in their organized stacks, with only a handful tipped over by ship impact. Medical texts covering a variety of topics were there, from practical to theoretical. The rest were curious. Corran squinted at some of the more fictional types until a sound down the hallway distracted him. He waited a few seconds, but nothing else came. The ship was still settling? Not likely. Oh, right. The toolbox.

In front of the desk built into the corner of the bedroom, lay a tipped over fern. Sure, the Ranger could have stepped through the vibrant green leaves and crushed the plant for some tools, but that didn't feel right. These were Ilana's plants. Out of all the things she cared for, these were in her room. With a concerned look, Corran knelt down and lifted the potted fern upright. Much of its dirt had fallen out from its horizontal angle, so he began cupping his hands together and dumping it back into the pot itself. Once that was done, he scooted the whole fern back against the wall where it had likely originally sat. Nearby a few other pots and containers were in similar or worse condition. If he helped one, he had to help all he could.

Before he knew it, ten minutes had certainly elapsed. Except for the total lost causes, the young man had managed to get many of the plants and pots back into a preferable place for them. A lot of dirt still coated the floor, but much of it had been returned to its respective pots as possible. By the time Ilana got to the doorway, she would see the Ranger man-handling a bushy, lively plant's container back into an available space. With a grunt, it slid against the wall. He stood up and admired his handiwork for a moment until that uncanny sixth sense felt the eyes of someone watching. Corran turned around to see the doctor standing there, food container in hand. The blond youth had dirt on his knees and shins and of course on his hands. "Oh. Uh... I didn't see you there," he admitted, with some suppressed bashfulness. He brushed his hands off on his pants quickly, as if hiding the evidence now would help. "I was just getting the toolbox," Corran professed, before taking a few short strides to the desk nearby and laying his hand on it. "There it is. Had some... trouble finding it."

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Nothing would have prepared her for the sight she would have seen in her private quarters. If a month ago someone would have told her Corran Velt would be in her room, dirty to his knees and palms, and helping take care of her plants, she would have thought them insane. As it was, she openly gaped, amber eyes wide in surprise. Shyness, bashfulness tinged the atmosphere as he brushed off his hands, and she slowly stepped in, eyes panning around the room.

"...You picked them up," she spoke quietly, still holding the container. More than that, he even put them in their containers and had gotten back most of their dirt. She hadn't really needed to check on them; most of these plants required minimal watering and even less care or open light. But he used those ten minutes to clean them up...

"Thank you," she breathed softly, then blinked back to awareness. She seemed still surprised, glancing around. "I was worried some of them might have died, but I didn't want you to think it odd, my visiting my downed ship yesterday for no good reason."

Her hand lightly brushed against one of the ferns, lips touched into the faintest gentle smile. "These are.. one of the few things I can care for in peace. I..." she stopped, then colored, ducking her head. "They're just plants, I know."

But each one of them was special in some way. But explaining it... perhaps it sounded a little crazy.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

He had never seen Ilana so visibly shocked before. Mouth agape, lambent eyes wide. With his hand on the toolbox, Corran watched her with some suppressed anxiety. Perhaps she had expected him to get in and then out of her room with tools in tow; not to dawdle in her most private of spaces. It was too late now and the young man was incapable of lying to her - even if he wanted to. In the seconds that seemed to drag on for hours, Corran tried to prepare an apology that would make sense. When she stated that he picked them up, all the blond youth could do was nod in reply. Her features continued to be nigh unreadable. Surprised shrouded what true emotions she could be feeling. Why couldn't he be an empath in situations like this?

When a gratitude finally came out instead of anger, the Ranger realized he had been holding his breath and literally exhaled a sigh of relief. Anxiety receded only to be replaced by curious wonder as he stood still, following Ilana's words along with her movements. The way she lovingly touched one of her plants, the affectionate smile barely visible on her face. Corran glanced between the nearest fern to her and the wintery woman. Understanding seemed to dawn on his face. Ilana truly cared for these plants. They were healthy, vibrant, and clearly well taken care of. Shyness of her own must have taken hold because she lowered her head and tried to justify her feelings.

The blond youth tucked the toolbox under his arm and advanced on the doctor in steady, careful steps. Along the way, blue eyes glanced from one side to the other, admiring the greenery so affectionately grown by the ship's owner. He finally stopped in front of her, standing close. Wordlessly, the Ranger examined her with some curiosity. "You know, these aren't 'just plants'," Corran finally said softly and with supportive weight, "They're your plants. By the looks of it, they mean a great deal to you." In retrospect, the young man felt much better about being as delicate with them as he did. At the time, he didn't understand their import, but it was increasingly becoming obvious.

He looked around with a furrowed brow, looking for something. Realization mixed with satisfaction appeared on his features as he set down the toolkit on the foot of the bed and he promptly plopped right next to it, leaning back on his arms. The mattress was pretty comfortable and felt like luxury compared to the sleeping mats they had been using at the campsite. After making himself comfortable, Corran tilted his head and nodded to the gaggle of plants. "Tell me about them. What drives Ilana Morata to have a green thumb?" There was no mistaking his sincerity. He innocently wanted to know.

@Killa Ree