Ask By The Books

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She had seen him confident, capable and cool-headed in intense situations, sweet and even kind. But it was still a surprise to see him bashful... or to even feel him as shy as he was, still. Every now and then, she remembered he was actually younger than her. By how much she wasn't entirely certain, but just enough that he still seemed so youthful to her. She flinched when he thumped his head against the rod above him, but let him wrestle out those emotions for himself. But hearing him gulp, she tilted her head slightly in curiosity. Was the idea so repugnant that he was nervous about seeing her?

Though that wouldn't seem to be the case, she wasn't entirely certain. So instead she merely nodded once, then neatly slid out, glancing back over at him over her shoulder. "Fifteen minutes," she reminded him with a nod. "Come down; I'll be done by then."

Not waiting for a response, she shimmied out back down the rungs, and made her way in.

She sighed, stepping back into her private quarters. Old clothing was shed gingerly; some of the bruises she sustained still sang with pain. He could really put in a hook when he set his weight into it. She soon selected new clothes, a simple black shirt and grey leggings with a lightweight knit cardigan.

She was chilly, for some reason. Perhaps it was the mountain air... perhaps distance. Perhaps it was she was so used to Corran being around his warmth seeped into her bones, warming her from inside out. When the shower was turned on and steam began to billow, she stepped in.

The dirt, the carbon, all of it washing down the drain, and she spent a few minutes not scrubbing, just staring at the tiled wall, an absent frown on her lips. When she came back to awareness, she hurried cleansing off for the rest before drying quickly and setting out another towel for him.

Pulling damp hair back into a low ponytail and tugging on her clean clothes, she paced out to the kitchenette to begin prepping for a meal she had promised some time ago. She only hoped it would be up to her own exacting standards tonight as well... for some inexplicable reason, she was especially keen to please. This felt different.

Cozy, almost, in a way that was different even from last night.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Sky blue eyes followed the doctor as she walked away, climbed down the rungs, and out of sight. Fifteen minutes. He could use the time to calm down now that there was a comfortable knowledge of privacy between the two. Not that he had any issues with lack of privacy between them, it's just... well, it's complicated. As much as the pair had been close, Ilana Morata was still an ethereal, almost dream-like being to the young Ranger. Unknowable. Unapproachable. Never truly on the same level as mere mortals. That is, until they crashed here. Their time in this crater had made Ilana so much more... human. Brushing past that potentially insensitive language, Corran remembered that he didn't have a lot of time until he was expected back inside. Fifteen minutes was just enough time to get the engine covered, parts secured down, and tools packed up.

With toolbox under arm, he found the Arkanian woman already in the beginning stages of making supper. While her cooking skills alone, mentioned long before, would have piqued his curiosity, there was something else taking all the blond youth's attention. He stood there wordlessly, blinked at Ilana. Her hair wet and attire casual; down to earth even. He had seen her resplendent in gold, a jaw-dropping display, and now in something comfortable and approachable. Ilana looked like the girl next door. His heart didn't quite skip a beat, but it did pause to consider which version of her it liked better. Much like his thoughts, it settled on both. It liked both. To ward the probably uncomfortable silence and self-pleasing stare, Corran rubbed the back of his head and pointed to the hallway that led to the refresher, "This way? Oh yeah, I... I knew that." He actually did know that, but some social cover was better than none. Setting down the toolbox on the counter, he sped-walk out of the awkward space and towards the privacy of a good shower.

Hot water and steam enshrouded the young man. He let it therapeutically blast off the grime, dirt, and carbon from his skin. There were few better feelings than being clean after a long day. Or however long it had been since they splashed down. Leaning forward and using a hand to keep himself away from the tile wall, Corran let hot water run down his back and drip off his shoulders. Even in this place of routine meditation, he couldn't escape thoughts of Ilana. Seeing her like that just now - so unceremonious - seemed like a new realization. That they were closer. Closer than he had known. Was she comfortable with him? Was this new or... is this how she acts all the time?

Instinct told the experienced space trader he had spent enough time wasting water. With some reluctance, he turned off the soothing water and opened the sliding door. A towel, neatly folded, greeted him. A warm smirk appeared on his face. She was so sweet sometimes. After thoroughly wiping down his body and drying off his hair, the Ranger began getting dressed. There was just one problem. While his boots and pants had survived with little wear on them besides dirt gathered from their early sparing match, his shirt had gotten the worst of the engine residue. It was dotted in black dots and brown smudges. He couldn't wear that; it would totally invalidate the whole point of getting clean in the first place. Plus it wasn't very presentable.

Ilana would hear Corran approaching long before he rounded the corner to the kitchenette, his bootfalls echoing against the metal floor of the Quad Five. When he came into view, the young man would be bare from the waist up, except for a towel draped around his shoulders. With one hand gripping a section of the towel that hung over his chest, he'd finally speak his mind, "Do you have any spare shirts? One's that would fit me, I mean. Even if they are from one night stands or ex boyfriends you kicked out. I cannot put a dirty shirt back on." There was a seriousness in his polite tone that indicted this was just another one of those hang-ups that concerned him. Like laws, regulations, ouchies, and now cleanliness, Corran had a certain way he liked things and dirtying himself so soon after a thorough shower just wouldn't do. Even if it meant risking embarrassment.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

With everything having happened, she wanted to keep things simple, light. Though Corran had raided some of her stores before in the refridgerator unit, she had a couple storage boxes of food still stashed away in case she actually had time to eat. Hearing him enter, however, she turned with a frozen box of protein in hand.

And froze herself, both brows raised.

Biting down on her lower lip, it took every ounce of willpower to keep her eyes on his face; bruises nonwithstanding, it was... something else still to see him without a shirt. Homelier, somehow, but yet in an unexpected way very attractive. It was only when his words impacted she winced slightly.

"...I don't have anything like that," anymore, she added mentally, turning away towards some of the leftover vegetables to begin washing them. "But I keep spare shirts and pants for patients who lose their clothing in all sizes in the patient room; in the cabinets below. There might be something there that will fit."

Her tone was soft, but inwardly she seethed at the implication. Did she really seem that easy, keeping on ex-boyfriend clothing or ex-lovers... even in that life before, she didn't keep anything. But still... for some reason it stung. Instead she kept quiet, with only the sounds of washing vegetables in the room.

...She wasn't ever going to mention that she never had a boyfriend. For some reason, she felt like it wasn't something she was ready to admit yet. Still... it took all her willpower not to glance back at him, and instead set the protein box in the reheater to rapidly thaw out the meat.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A disquieting silence seemed to hover in the air after Ilana had directed the Ranger medical bay. Though he couldn't exactly place his finger on why. Blue eyes squinted at her for a moment, before relaxing and subtly cocking a single brow. No obvious answer came from studying the Arkanian's features. Only running water from the sink and the rinsing of vegetables replied to his curiosity. He finally shrugged, "That's pretty thoughtful of you. Most hospitals I've been to just give you those backless gowns. I'll go see if anything fits." Corran stopped in the archway that led to the medical lab, glancing over his shoulder at the doctor, before continuing on his way.

One cabinet after another offered no garment solutions. Stacked pairs of pants. Female bottoms. Ah, finally. Shirts for males. Digging through the tub of attire was a more arduous task due to finding a right fit and size. Too small. Too huge. Not a particularly flattering color. Eventually, the blond youth settled on a dark blue shirt with two buttons down the chest. It was a little larger than his fit, but tucking it into his belt and pants made it less baggy. After everything was folded back up and neatly stacked away, Corran tried to make himself presentable looking; drying off the last remnants of water from his hair and neck before depositing it into a hamper. He'd volunteer to wash the laundry if they were stuck here long enough. Even if he had to scrub them in the mountain lake.

It took some hyping up for the young man to finally cross the threshold back to the common area that held the kitchenette. Not that he was afraid; just that he was unsure. He wasn't an empath like her, but there was something of a subtle, almost indistinguishable change in the energy between them. Maybe he was just overthinking things. With a few strides, he leaned on the counter next to the doctor and glanced down at what she was working on. "Looks good so far. Is there anything I can do to help?" Without thinking, his warm hand slid to the small of her back and rubbed it slowly and affectionately. An absentminded show of support and closeness. Then the Ranger realized what he had done and withdrew his hand slowly. "Sorry..." He said in a mildly embarrassed voice.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

-Theme-​

Rationally, she knew he didn't mean offense by remarking about an ex-lover, or a former boyfriend. She had moved on from washing vegetables, and had moved on to cutting them with a delicate, practiced air. She heard him enter, and the pause before that; her hair was beginning to dry, a few tendrils drying and loose on her cheeks. Glancing over at his direction, she stiffened for a moment at his touch... but when he moved away she sucked in a soft breath.

"Don't be sorry," she answered simply, eyes on cutting the vegetables still. "It was... nice. It felt good." A quiet admission, but a sudden, alien bout of shyness kept her eyes down. She wasn't used to people wanting to be around her, willingly touching her gently. As though she actually were approachable, or someone they wanted to touch. She shifted slightly back towards his hand, still carefully wielding the knife at ease.

Finally, she forced her gaze up, her voice soft.

"I don't... Well. I never had... a boyfriend. Nothing like that," she tilted her head in the direction where he was before, "like you meant. Just... just so you know." She couldn't really even explain why she wanted him to know; but hesitation emanated from him. Perhaps he was picking up on her own cues, her own small emotive changes.

Help. He asked how he could help her.

Clearing her throat, she nodded to where the protein was thawing out.

"Help me by cutting that into cubes; I hope you don't mind a stir-fry with noodles, I supposed after physical exertion and... the sparring.." she faltered, then continued on, "we could use a balanced meal to complement the wraps from earlier."

She would try to keep the cooking utensils as minimal as possible; no point crowding a kitchenette with dirty dishes from both lunch and dinner. But amber eyes glanced up at him, the faintest of smiles touching her lips. This time around, he was forgiven, it seemed. Because he didn't know.

"If that sounds fine by you."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

It was... nice. It felt good. For some reason those words collided with his chest like a punch from a Wookie. Ilana had said them so softly. Corran looked at her profile, searching for more. The confirmation didn't come from her features, but from her whole body. While her focus remained solidly on slicing vegetables, her hip brushed against his fingers. This time he fully committed. His hand didn't stop at the small of her back but slid around her entire waist and he held tenderly on the opposite hip. It was a strange thing - they had been intimate before and yet these little displays of everyday affection were the things they struggled with. Faint pink even flushed in the young man's cheeks. When golden eyes looked up at him, he tilted his head to meet them. Even though her voice was quiet, it was clear she was speaking with serious weight.

Sky blue eyes stared blankly as they tried to process the impossible. Ilana Morata was the stuff of fantasy. Radiant snow-white hair, skin of marble, eyes like stars, towering intellect, ruthless cunning, and, what he believed, a good heart. And she had never had a boyfriend? Even he had girlfriends in his past. Fleeting, immature and innocent dalliances' in high school but... she didn't? The way the Arkanian said it reminded him that she didn't have a normal life like him. Never had. He rubbed her hip reassuringly. What they had wasn't exactly easy to label either. Relationships between adults, especially ones that danced between the various conflicts of the galaxy, were not as cut-and-dry as teenage puppy love. Corran realized that he had been crass previously, though it felt like she was forgiving him. A slight smile on white lips suggested as much. He'd have to remember his manners in the future. Mom would've scolded him for sure.

Though, his mother would have been much more approving of his willingness to help in the kitchen. "Stir-fry with noodles sounds beyond delicious. It's more than fine with me," the blond youth said with a small, warm grin. As a show of thankfulness, both for her willingness to forgive and for cooking, he gave the gentlest of kisses on her temple. Without giving her a chance to respond, Corran released his grip on her waist and moved to the raw protein. With some practiced precision, he began chopping it up into long lines and finally into cubes. After the bulk of his concentration had been used on the most difficult portion of cutting up the protein and it entered into the repetitive stage, the young man decided to add some levity to the room. He cleared his throat softly, "I'm eager to see the famous dinner skills of Ilana Morata tonight. Based on what we have going so far, it certainly will be a balanced meal. Vegetables, organic protein, nothing deep fried..." A few chops through the thicker portions interrupted the young man's sentence for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, "Medical Doctor. Underworld spy. Ranger Affiliate. Nutritionist. Is there any other talents or titles you have I'm not aware of?"

A final few careful slices finished the job. A few cubes were rather oblong, but a good majority had turned out in the preferred geometric shape. After rinsing with soap, Corran turned to look at his fellow stranded companion while drying off his hand with a towel. "I think I got the cubes taken care of. Mostly. What do you think?" He gave a gentle nod to the cutting board where the protein sat in a pile.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She couldn't help the sudden burst of warmth in her chest at the touch. It was simple, probably what so many people took for granted as a touch, but the fact that he not only picked up on her verbal cues, but physical... she smiled slightly, but fought hard the urge to lean in as he rubbed at her hip.

However, her small piece of news seemed to startle him. Did he assume she had people at her beck and call? Though it was, perhaps, a slightly flattering fantasy... in truth most people and their standards to how they lived their lives were hard to reconcile with her own, and they always wanted her to change her life to suit themselves. A relationship was a commitment in her own mind, and though she could do casual nights with people every now and then... to be truly committed to someone was something she took with intense seriousness. She needed that stability, that surety that someone was on her side and wasn't going to lie or betray her.

So many did before, after all.

She flushed a deep rose at the cheeks at the casual brush to her temple, nearly missing one of the peppers she was cutting, and slid him a sideways glance. When things grew silent, she resumed cutting, lost in thought. At his words however, she finished the last of the vegetables, putting them off to one side before washing her hands and turning to him. A faint huff of laughter parted from her lips, arms crossing beneath her bust.

"Speak for yourself. Breakfast master, great at ship mechanics, tactician... even a solid combatant." Her lips still marked faintly with a grin, eyeing him. There had been an idea brewing in the back of her mind for some time; she trusted him. Perhaps he would have some valuable input for what she had in mind. "I also am a registered therapist" she nodded back to the small cargo hold turned medical exam room. "But I might not be a doctor for much longer..." she confessed, turning back to bend over and grab a wok; one of the few utensils she really used on the regular, really.

Oil, then when it started heating, onions and garlic. Letting them soften in the heat, she nodded once at his handiwork, humming in a pleased tone. "Nicely done, thank you. I can't manage to cut them perfectly myself," then turned back, slowly adding some of it in piece by piece, and some of the vegetables.

"I plan on starting in the business of cybernetics and medical supplies," she stated quietly, eyes on the food, but keeping her senses attuned on him, "and... beginning research on the strange virus. After seeing a small example of the faulty medpacs being sold to general market... I want to stop it, provide the galaxy with something better. I can't care for all my patients alone anymore," she finally confessed softly, an absent look in her amber eyes. "All the traveling, no time to ever do everything I want to, to help. It's all there, I just have to make it for myself."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, giving a small, gentle smile, amber eyes glimmering. "Don't dare tell anyone I have my optimistic moments, or I'll deny it." An admission she held true to herself and herself alone most days; her view of patient care wasn't individualized with selfish ideals like most physicians of this galaxy. Hers was far more universal.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Humor was something Ilana shared sparingly, but he often enjoyed it when it came around. When she huffed, arms crossed, the young man knew he was in it now. Breakfast master, naturally. He learned from the best. Great ship mechanic? He was more average, in his mind. Tactician? Now she was just flattering him. Even a solid combatant. Ah. There was the ribbing. Corran smirked playfully and gave his head a subtle shake. Even in her jests, the Arkanian was still a little sweet. Though the smirk faded and was soon replaced by a single cocked brow when the doctor confirmed she was also a trained therapist. When she nodded to the general direction of the medical bay, the Ranger hesitated at first before glancing over his shoulder toward it as well. How did that particular skill set of the sentient mind go unmentioned for so long? Perhaps that was a good thing - maybe Corran wasn't crazy.

While the introduction of Ilana's medical expertise extending to the mental realm as well as the physical was enough of a twist to the evening conversation, something yet even more surprising came next. The blond youth's brow dented and his mouth slowly drifted open. Doctor Morata was the name he had first learned to call her by and now she may not be a doctor anymore? This felt akin to being told his favorite holiday’s patron didn’t really exist as a kid. He closed his lips when the Arkanian came to inspect his slicing abilities. As she pleasantly hummed her approval, Corran could only watch her with newfound confusion. “You’re welcome,” was all he could mutter out politely as not to disturb the flow of conversation and dinner, for that matter. What did she mean by all this? Hopes clashed with fears. Was she becoming a full-fledged Sector Ranger? A rise in excitement fluttered in his chest. Then a small counterblow of anxiety. That would mean they would be coworkers. What if she was retiring entirely? Going back home? That seemed to force logic to suppress the other emotions. It was better to just listen to what Ilana had to say than try and game out all courses.

As she cooked in the wok and a fine aroma of vegetables and protein began to flavor the air of the kitchenette, the young man strode closer to the wintery woman and leaned against the counter. He casually folded his arms and his legs, crossing his boots at the ankle. The empath would even sense a blank slate of emotion from Corran, as he cleared his mind and only listened. He nodded along politely, perhaps not fully grasping her intentions, but at least understanding how she felt. The young Ranger felt much of the same. There was too much to do for one person against a galaxy of problems. Even together, with all their efforts combined, they couldn’t heal every patient or arrest every criminal. It would take more.

Periodically he’d glance between her profile and the food, just out of curiosity. When white hair gave way and Ilana tilted her head to look at him, with subdued smile and golden, shining eyes, his own gaze rose from the wok to her face. Her features were so often a magnet to his attention. At her playful threat, Corran couldn’t help but chuckle. He raised a single finger from his folded arms and spoke teasingly back, “I won’t need to tell anyone, because I intend to cause more optimism in your life over time. They’ll see for themselves.” That was a vocalized hope; that they would still be around each other in the future. If he said it aloud, maybe he could will that hope into a realized promise. With this... business plan, what could he possibly offer her? Perhaps it was best to ask rather than dwell on it in silence.

"So..." The blond youth began slowly, "I take it you'll be out of the Ranger Affiliate program in the future. When you decide to... start on this business, I mean." There was some uncertainty and a twinge of forlornness in his voice. He remained against the counter, close to her, but arms closed off. It was clear there was some conflict in him. A sadness to know a chapter in their lives would end. The excuse as to why they saw one another so often. But there was some anticipation and relief there as well. Knowing that he didn't have to worry about confronting his code about coworkers and no perceived favoritism among the ranks. Above all else, there was understanding. Understanding that Ilana Morata had always been an ambitious person. A woman who climbed and never stopped climbing. In a way, when she touched his face in that empty, spartan apartment back on Corellia all the time ago... she awoke the ambition in him too. He undeniably cared about her, and if that mattered at all, he also wanted to help her rise. Even if it meant using his shoulders to climb.

Corran cleared his throat, "Cybernetics and medical supplies. Lots of monopolies in those industries." It started off sounding like a warning, but then a slight hint of that mischievous, boyish smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "They could use a new competitor and I think you are incredible at what you do. You've got a chance and..." There was a hesitance there for a moment, his eyes glanced away only briefly before returning. "And I want to help you, if I can. Tell me more about your plan. Have you started working on it already?" Where there had been some unease or lack of surety before in his sky blue eyes, they had been replaced by that stubborn will of his. That endurable drive that seemed to make things real, even if they were just an idea. All because he believed... in her.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

His emotions, though muted, still hummed in the space between them. Hope. Trepidation. So many of them, unfiltered, clear and untainted. No jealousy, no resentment. He was hopeful. Even though a part of him seemed to feel an edge of anxiety for the future... she felt otherwise. These last few days gave her so much to think about, and how much she wanted him to be a part of it somehow... if she could really help in some way.

She caught his feeling, his inflection as he spoke, and glanced over, starting to add some of the spices and other ingredients for the sauce, some of the noodles. They were leftovers from a takeout noodle place that had accidentally doubled her order; she slowly added in more flavors, bit by bit. "The good part of this means I have more personal time," she confessed quietly, glancing up towards him, pausing. More time to spend with you... was what she wanted to say, but instead she nodded once, the faint smile still remaining.

"I'll start when I have some solid investors," she continued, her tone lighter. "I might have one now, but I want to remain an Affiliate for a little while longer... at least until things are a little more stable." She glanced back up at him. His words were touching; he wanted to help her, wanted to be around. "I'd like it if... if you'd want to be a part of it sometime as well. I might need help from the Rangers to make sure my products remain as untampered by the black market as possible." A possibility, a dream, considered right there.

The smells soon filled the kitchenette, warm, savory, just an edge of heat. The good thing of sensitivity to smell was the minute differences of scent in good or excellent meal creation, and though most things were edible, for her sensitive palate they weren't exactly palatable. And she always had a rule, to never cook with a negative thought in her head. This was cathartic, calming to nerves. "It should be ready soon," she spoke up quietly, mostly to herself, but yet looked up at him. "I do have a few people who wish to be employed, but..." she shrugged slightly, white brows dented. "It'll be some time yet. I want to... do good while I still can. Live my life knowing I've tried."

She glanced back up into eyes of blue, and felt that queer warmth in her chest again, and the faint smile. "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. It was just so hard to admit.. it's a possibility. A chance for me to do greater good with more." Perhaps...

Perhaps this was just being happiness.

"Could you set the table though?" she nodded towards one of the cabinets. "Dinner's ready." Simple words, but she felt a measure of pride saying it. She couldn't even remember the last time she cooked for someone. Someone who meant as much as he did in her own heart and mind.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Savory smells and mouth-watering sizzles in the wok were starting to make Corran’s stomach growl. Compared to the survival bars they are and even the thrown-together lunch he had made; Ilana’s creation was practically five-star gourmet. Still, he primarily focused on her. Out of curiosity of her future plans. What she could do. What it meant for them. The Arkanian woman’s mention of more free time caused the male Ranger to visibly perk up. He subconsciously leaned closer to her. Even if they didn’t see each other as often due to their over-lapping professions, more free time meant there was still a chance of seeing her. Though the young man wasn’t entirely certain if she felt the same, Ilana’s small smile and gentle nod gave him some hope that they were in agreement.

So, she already had some business interest? Corran raised his eyebrows in a visual display of being impressed. Did Doctor Morata have no end to her talents? A head for business might be a new one. He understood trades and deals, mostly. Running a company would be altogether a challenge. Though the inner workings of commerce interested him. With a glance and a few words, that impressed expression shifted to an earnest one. She invited him to help keep her business clean, officially, as a Ranger. “It’s my duty to enforce all laws under Ranger jurisdiction. If that means intervening to prevent black market corruption and protect company property, well… I might just volunteer.” The blond youth said that dutifully until the very end when a gleam seemed to sparkle in his eye. Such an invitation wasn’t even uncouth. Corran had worked many a case for the TAU company. When governments couldn’t satisfy corporations, they often turned to the Sector Rangers. This would be no different. Just maybe with a few more perks.

By now, the smell of a delectable supper practically filled the kitchenette. The young man only dared to tease himself with a look into the wok after the cute chef said it was nearly done. When she turned to look up at him, he leaned back against the counter to not crowd her near a hot stove. Corran blinked a few times as the usually stoic doctor expressed something like… hope. A want to do good. A greater good for the galaxy. His square shoulders visibly slouched and he tilted his head with a warm smirk. The kind of look that showed approval, appreciation, and something like pride. Ilana had come such a long way since they met. A woman, by fate or by choice, kept in the clutches of the criminal underworld and now she was aspiring to be something greater. A good not just unto herself but to others. She had told him things in the past. Hard things that he didn’t want to hear. But Corran had pushed that aside, to put faith in the possibility of redemption. That people could change if you gave them the chance. Even if the process was still on going, it felt like a little vindication. A little hope too.

An urge to embrace the wintery Arkanian washed over the blond youth like a tidal wave. The way her golden eyes had the compelling gravity of stars and her faint smile pulled at him. He uncrossed his legs and unfolded his arms to just wrap her up in a powerful hug but she stopped him cold, perhaps unintentionally. Dinner was ready. Probably only one of two three-word-sentences that could have stopped him. “Oh sure,” Corran agreed, following her stare to the cabinets which contained dinnerware, “I’ll take care of it.” He pushed himself off the counter to dutifully handle the task assigned, but Ilana wasn’t going to get away that easy. As he turned to head off to set the table, the young man would lean over and peck her cheek. A much more minor expression of his happiness from earlier, but it would pacify him. For now.

Gentle taps of silverware against a hard surface signaled that the table had been set. On one side was a set and one opposing it. Both were rigidly even; practically a reflection in a mirror. In the middle set a wide space for any container holding the tantalizing meal. The male Ranger stayed standing as to not appear rude in front of his host. "You know, I'm really happy for you, Ilana," he said aloud from across the common area, "A little jealous too, maybe. Taking hold of your dreams like this. It's pretty cool." It was obvious he was sincere. "Don't say sorry for reaching for your goals." He was referencing her early apology. A smell from the kitchenette wafted to his nose again. He smacked his lips in anticipation. "And now that you told me, we can celebrate with some of your long heralded cooking." A cocked eyebrow and a playful smirk beamed at her from across the distance between them. "Are you going to change my world tonight?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She turned just as he pecked her on the cheek; she paused, and then seemed to consider something for a split moment. Just as he would turn away, he would have caught a rare expression flickering across her features.

A look as though to continue that touch, possibly even prolong whatever he might have had in mind. But he was already moving away, and the moment was gone. Just having him close, talking casually, it was like the sort of life she'd only imagined for herself as a fantasy. Someone who made a night easy, who treated her as an equal. Someone that made her feel...

Almost protected. Like she could set down her walls for just a few hours, and breathe freely. But he had that effect on people; she was sure such a potent gentleness of heart could make someone feel valued. Special. Even feel...

No, she stopped that thought right then and there. But she had felt the relief, then being impressed. All the emotions he radiated were like a warm shower, basking her in warmth. Undoing her ever so subtly and making her stare just a beat longer than necessary, contemplating.

But then distance was made, and she swallowed down the feeling, but at hearing his words, even the phrasing, a subtle, almost mischievous smile touched her lips, amber eyes glimmering with another glimpse of humor. She could feel her cheeks flushing again; was it just her, or was it unnaturally warm in here?

"I'll do my best," she spoke demurely, carefully carrying the hot wok and setting down a hot pad to keep it from bringing heat into the table. She then paused, a thought touching her mind. "I'd normally have something to drink with this..." her hand gesturing over the food, "but my stores aren't the greatest these days. I hope just water will work." She glanced up, and almost without realizing it she was a step closer, hand hovering lightly over his own.

She seemed to be thinking of something. It was working up courage; he would see the play of it in her features, the uncertain struggle as she paused for thought, scanning his features. Her chest ached with the words she wanted to say, but there was no real way to say them. Regret for the time they had being so short; relief for knowing he was alright, and that things between them were alright; a weight off her shoulders of a secret she didn't want to keep from him. Twinned with his own feelings, his own emotions of genuine warmth and pride, loosed the words from her before she could even think to snatch them back. They tumbled out, slightly awkward and stilted from misuse, but still genuine.

"Out of all the people I could have crashed with, I'm... I'm really glad and fortunate that it was you," she managed out, letting out a slow breath. "But more than that... you... mean... a great deal to me." She lowered her eyes to her hand and paused again, hesitating just to touch him. But finally her hand settled, the lightest touch with a brush of her thumb, though her gaze remained lowered. It took all the inner willpower she had not to retreat back from the words, though it almost physically ached to say them for fear of rejection, or worse.

"More than that... I was scared when we landed. My first thought was you." Finally, she forced her gaze to look up at his, earnest, features calm, lips parted slightly. "I was afraid that it was my fault if you were hurt... and..." Another soft inhale. A slow sigh, a release of tension.

"If you were, I don't think I could forgive myself, because you're the most important person to me."

She stood there, heart thudding hard, but kept her breathing even, forcing herself to meet his gaze. The words were insinuated in there, but even just saying them through this veiled context was hard. But if she didn't say it now, she wasn't certain if she could say it later, with all the distance there was between them when in their professional settings.

She wanted to bridge that. If not now, when?

"I hope... you know what I mean," she rasped quietly. She waited, breath held in anticipation to see how he could react. Part of her wished she could have even waited to say it, but now it was too late. Now she just had to wait for the inevitable turning away. She could handle rejection, maybe. But to wait and see... that was the agonizing part. The moments stretched in between, each of them a tiny eternity as she forced herself to wait.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Light wisps of steam partially obscured the Arkanian chef as it rose from the warm wok. It looked incredibly delectable. Even the scent itself made his mouth water in anticipation. Though the woman carrying it over wasn't bad to look at either. Her response to his teasing question made him lightly huff out of his nostrils in amusement. Oh, how she evaded his double entendre with such refined guile. With the table set and hot wok set down in the middle, the blond youth was staring at the wonderfully prepared food while he nodded amiably to his host. "Water will do fine. It's my preferred beverage after all." When he turned to face her, golden eyes made him freeze. It was only now that he realized how close Ilana was; hand hovering lightly over his own. His breathing slowed and became shallower. An instinct felt the seriousness of the situation before his senses and thoughts recognized it.

Something new was happening. The normally impassive doctor had clear conflict on her face. Thoughts struggling to form - an uncertainty of how to proceed. This did not frighten or intimidate the Ranger. It only sprouted curiosity. What was important enough to make her internal struggle display so visibly? Corran's eyebrows dented only slightly, as his eyes searched her features for clues, answers, and understanding. Amber eyes stared back in return; a reflection of two people trying to truly understand one another. Words, stiff and anxious, finally slipped free into the air. The young man's face remained focused, brows furrowed as before. He was clearly listening and trying to understand. Ilana had said similar things before, but this was different. New. Intimate. Rare. Corran's eyebrows began to raise and he blinked a few times as she said he meant a great deal to her. As the Arkanian looked down, he refused to look away. Sky blue eyes stared at the top of her head, trying to process what was happening. What had been said so far. What the aura from her felt like. A soft but determined icy grip clasped the young man's hand. There was no reflex to pull away. His own hand stayed still. Unmoving.

Before Corran's thoughts had settled, the woman before him continued. She admitted she was afraid. That he could have been hurt. That her first thoughts of consciousness were of him. Why... why was she admitting these things? The stoic doctor almost never said these things. Lambent eyes ceased being downcast and caused him to pause yet again. As if moving or responding would shatter reality itself. A deep, emotive part of him wanted to knew more. To understand. Words became jumbled, mixed in nervousness, before a sigh steadied the wintery woman. She was concerned, guilty even, if he had been hurt.

Because. He was the....

Most important person....

To. Her.

A quiet, nearly inaudible inhale passed through his barely parted lips. Their eyes locked on each other, though his remained blank. As if their very vision had gone fuzzy. A symphony of feelings fluttered about in his very being. Bewilderment. Wonder. Curiosity. Intimidation. Uncertainty. Hope. Joy. And... something else.

No. Surely this was a kindness. An affection brought on by their proximity. The Ranger knew that Ilana liked him. He liked her too. What she was saying, it must have been brought upon by their near-death experience. By their cooperation in the face of trials. Internally, he was rationalizing all the reasons why the Arkanian woman would be saying these things. After a few moments, the young man had almost talked himself out of what was happening. Until she shyly, but courageously, hoped that he knew what she meant aloud. Rationalizations crumbled like decaying stone walls. There was no where else to hide. Visually, he was unmoving. Only his face had softened. No immediate response came. Only silence. Unmoving, agonizing silence.

A single finger curled first around hers. A small, faint, something. Then a couple more came. Then finally his whole hand held hers, pressing warmth against the chill. The vacant eyes blinked twice before coming back to life. They rested in her golden stare, unable to speak. The blond youth's lips quivered, fighting to come to life. An exhale came first; lungs finally fighting against the apprehension. A subdued, anxious inhale supplied fuel to the restarting engine of his mind. "Ilana..." Corran finally spoke, his voice sounding low, hoarse, and dry, "I... I feel the same way."

His stomach and chest felt like they had just taken a great plunge. The savory supper. The crashed ship. The empty wilderness. None of it mattered as much as the entrancing woman before him in this moment. How could there ever be something more important than her ever again? Corran closed the distance between them but left the smallest gap, never breaking eye-contact. His other hand gingerly slid to her waist; a confirmation of his words. Blue eyes searched for something in gold. "You're.... everything." Simple words. They lacked poetry, grandiosity, or high-minded romance. But they were his. And the only ones he could utter.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She braced herself for the rejection. The emotional turmoil. Inevitable turning away, or worse, making things awkward. The worst scenarios flashed by in her head, but she forced herself to stay still, watching his features. She hadn't realized she'd held her breath until she watched the blankness of his features shift. Until she saw his features soften.

Her hand felt cold, numb with nerves until his fingers started to shift, wrapping around her own. A bolt of warmth shocked through her arm, and lips parted in surprise. At hearing her name, her breath exhaled in a soft rush, waiting. His own emotions were hard-hitting, honest, unfiltered, and she forced herself to remain still, to endure.

The last thing she expected was for him to feel the same way.

The words rang in her head, but now it was her turn to be shocked into silence. For a couple beats she didn't respond, frozen with both brows raised in a clear expression of shock. She knew he felt some degree of fondness for her, some kindness perhaps, but she felt that he was that way with everyone. That he was this kind, considerate... but when she let out another exhale, it came out in a shaky rush, before lips pulled into a warm, full smile.

Unlike with their sparring, this one was simply pure joy and relief. She couldn't explain why, exactly, she felt the need to confess now; perhaps it was the feeling their time would be even more limited together after leaving this place. Perhaps it was their many small moments here, slowly melting her reserve. But it was all him. Somehow, he got past all her best attempts to maintain distance, and proved to her he was someone she could trust herself to. Someone she knew she could be with, and value her as she needed. She felt safe, wanted... something hard to admit to. But here he was, and he felt the same.

He felt the same!

"Thank the Force," she managed out, leaning against him as his other hand wrapped around her waist, tilting her head up. "I was afraid---" she cut the thought off, and shook her head. She exhaled once more, a hand pressing over her chest as though to still her heart. Giving him another glance... a warm smile touched her lips again, private, gentle.

Before she leaned up, pressing a soft kiss against his own lips. "I'm glad," she finally uttered, once she parted from him. A narrow space away. A breath of voice, a thin thread between them. It was so much to take in, almost too much at once. She leaned into him, feeling her heartbeat slow, breathing steadying. Perhaps it was easy for others to admit feelings, connections to others, but she just felt like she did the impossible, and now she had no idea how to move forward. She wanted to be near him, but there was also dinner. And the fact of resting; there was still stargazing as well. There was a future ahead.

A future she'd never have expected... especially with him. It was exactly as he said. It was everything.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Empty silence stood between the two. The Arkanian’s face was nothing short of total surprise. Normally so reserved, such an obvious expression left Corran stunned in his own way. Was it something he said? Only after a steady release of her breath did a reassuring smile appear on Ilana’s face. Not a smirk or grin, but a genuine, jovial, smile. Real happiness. It may have looked similar to one during their physical duel earlier, but the aura is exuded was altogether different. Both as a biological and emotional compulsion, the blond youth returned an open-mouthed smile. An exhilarating sensation seemed to infect him, just seeing the stoic doctor this way.

Even her words of relief were uncharacteristic of the Arkanian. She sounded as if she was going to confess a fear before silencing herself. As she leaned into him as a comfort, Corran wondered what Ilana was afraid of. Rejection? Uncertainty? A sudden heart attack? In any circumstance, the young man was honest about his intentions. He would have left no uncertain understanding between them. The thought of rejecting her almost made him chuckle. How could anyone reject someone like... her? Ilana had started out as a mystery. Possibly dangerous, but alluring enough with her wit, charm, and independence to draw him in. Oh, and her beauty. An absolutely transfixing beauty made ever more powerful by lambent eyes that pierced through indifference, shyness, and arrogance. While parts of her where still a mystery (would he ever tire of discovering all there was to know about her? Not likely), what laid beneath had forced the dutiful, rigid Ranger to care more about the law, justice, and order. But a bit more about people. Second chances. A second warm smile scattered the young man's thoughts and he returned to dwell in the moment.

A kiss sent chills down his spine. No feeling topped the chills she gave him. The blond youth's only complaint was that it ended too quickly. The wintery woman whispered to him and parted a small distance. "Me too..." Corran's voice was quiet, almost in a juvenile mixture of bashfulness and excitement. As she pressed into him, he wrapped his arms around her more fully. A tender embrace. Every time Ilana was close like this, it felt like a dream combined with an out of body experience. How could he, such a normal guy, hold the attention of someone so immensely different than himself? If a holo of the two together like this got sent back in time to Corran and his friends in high school, they would roundly proclaim no way a woman like that would spend a minute with him. But here it was. The impossible made real. And he wanted to spend more than a minute with her. The blond youth titled his head to the side to look down at the Arkanian near his chest. "You know... I'd still like to try your cooking. I've heard a rumor it's pretty incredible." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was a small tease; tone down for the mood of the room. "Besides," the off-duty Ranger continued, "We can't stargaze on an empty stomach."

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

He was so warm. Did he know how nice it felt, to be so surrounded by warmth, with those blue eyes looking at her as though she were the only person that mattered? He still seemed to hover in the realm of disbelief; she could feel it humming in between them, a kind of incredulousness that almost suspended time. But when he shifted to glance down at her, she lifted her head to listen what he had to say.

She huffed out a soft laugh, leaning back onto the heels of her feet. "That's true; need to eat something warm for the cold night as well." Moving back, though the smile wasn't exactly as full on her lips as it was, it was obvious in her eyes. Fingertips ghosted over his, before releasing him to sit at the small table.

Perhaps it was for the better, she was still partially numb with nerves. And though she'd never openly admit it, she had really done her best to make this dinner work well. Utensils were set out for them both to serve their own portions, and glasses of water as well. It wasn't anything fancy, she noted with a bit of disappointment, but he seemed happy with it. Perhaps... she could do better next time. Still, she had to admire him. Tall, broad-shouldered, with blond hair and blue eyes, perhaps he valued himself as ordinary, but there was so much more to him than that. The sternness when he was fully a Ranger, melting ever so slightly to a boyish smirk. His voice, just saying her name like she was some rare, precious thing. His looks of focus, his determination, all of it as such a man she wanted to be close to but never felt like she deserved. She didn't deserve him. And yet... here he was. Even through all the stressful situations, there he was. He was just incredible, to her mind. So much more than he knew.

Trying to bring back some levity into the conversation, she began scooping up some of the noodles and meat, careful to add some of the sauce as well. "Well, now, you know all about my ambitions," she commented quietly, gaze flicking up to his, that small smile still in place. "Tell me about yours. I've never... had the chance to know." If there was any way she could help him achieve his goals, she would. Even if he had to use her shoulders to stand tall, she'd do it.

For now, the future felt warm. She would do anything to keep it that way.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

It’s been said that honest affection has the power to overcome anything. That person had never seen Ilana Morata’s cooking. Before Corran had even sat down, the scents and sights of the hot dinner overcame any lingering endearment. Only the Arkanian woman’s proximity and alluring touch could overpower the young man’s insatiable appetite. Compared to the other meals (if you could call them that) from earlier, this dinner would truly be something worth digesting. However, eagerness did not overcome manners. After Ilana had served herself, he quickly piled his plate with noodles, veggies, meat, and added a respectable amount of sauce for additional flavor. An observer might assume the blond youth’s eyes were bigger than his stomach, but they wouldn’t be more wrong tonight. Corran had heard her inquiry about his own goals. He raised a single eating utensil, “Pardon me for a moment.” The young man than began scarfing down a huge bite of meat, noodles, veggies and sauce.

Galactic Basic lacked the words to describe the practically transformative experience Corran’s taste buds were experiencing. Maybe it was this being the first real meal since crash landing. Maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten very much while exerting himself quite a bit. Maybe it was because Ilana was just that great of cook. After swallowing the first bite to temporarily satiate hunger, a second forkful was followed right behind it. With eyes closed and his face in a clear expression of bliss, Corran raised his free hand in universal symbol of culinary satisfaction: all fingers pressed against the thumb. “Oh, Ilana. I am at a loss for words.” Another bite separated his thought. “So good. Just overwhelmingly delicious.” After one more bite, he chased it down with a swig of water to cleanse the pallet and finally get around to his host’s original question.

“I’m sorry,” the young man apologized, “I couldn’t resist another second without trying it. It’s so, so good.” He cleared his throat and took on a contemplative look. Like even the conversation topic itself took some self-evaluation on his part. His jaw shifted roughly, chewing over his thoughts now that he had swallowed the latest morsel. Blue eyes settled on the blank space between their plates. A slow inhale beaconed his voice forward. "Ambitions. For some reason, that word doesn't sound right." His stare flicked up now to look into her eyes. "But I do have goals. Things I've been thinking about for awhile." The off-duty Ranger sat up straight and set the utensil on the edge of the plate. That determined gaze, the kind Ilana had seen before, surfaced once more. "No amount of good I do as a Sector Ranger really changes anything. I could arrest 100 criminals in the next year and not even make dent in the galactic crime rate. Too many good people fall through the cracks." Corran's left hand curled its fingers lightly and opened them again. "People like you. Taken. Stolen from an innocent life and forced into crime. A single Ranger with all the time in the universe can't do enough."

His left hand finally clenched into a fist. You didn't need an empath to tell this wasn't just ideology. It was more personal. The fist relaxed into a loose grip, as if holding an invisible globe. "I want to have the power to do something. The Sector Rangers seem to be the best path for me to get there. Lieutenant, Captain, Commander... the higher, the better. From the top, I know more good can be done. Real change can happen." The determined gaze grew fiercer for a fraction of a second. A quick squint of the brows that mimicked the snarl of a predator. "If the Rangers kept me back, I would find a different way."

Corran's features relaxed back to normal. Instead of continuing, he took another mouthful of food and seemed pleased. It really was excellent food. Another sip of water washed the food down. With a satisfied sigh, the young man tilted his head innocently at the Arkanian woman sitting across from him. "Did that answer your question?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Pride, warm and heavy, bloomed at his words, expressions, all of it. She always prided herself on her cooking, but it really was different when someone you cared about, even... even...

...even loved...

Praised it and enjoyed it so much. It was genuinely warming to know that even he seemed to savor or enjoy it; she simply basked in the praise, golden eyes a rare, gentle warmth. She ate rather quickly herself; she wasn't necessarily the sit and savor type, so even then with the exertions and emotional stress, it was nice to sit down and eat, and listen.

Did he know the intensity of his gaze was like a magnet? She found herself unable to look away from him, even as he mulled over his words. Watching his features shift, his expressions change, it was... oddly in tune with her own sympathies. One man couldn't save the galaxy alone. She listened patiently as he explained. Even through his fierce determinism. Even through the split second anger, she listened patiently.

Power, the will to do better for the galaxy. Even she could agree with these ideals, with these goals. But it was the way he said them that stilled her; she regarded him with a level look, contemplating his words, his intention. Taking it all within stride, even stopping with eating. For a few beats, she didn't really talk. When he finished talking, she swallowed, then smiled.

She reached her hand out to take a sip of water, then set it aside. "I think... it's a good ambition," she commented quietly. "I know what you mean, about feeling like you can't do enough by yourself, but I have faith you will, Corran. And if there are ways I can help," she slid her hand forward, palm up for him to take if he wanted to, "merely ask and I'll do my best to do just that."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

It was a curious thing. His goals never needed anyone’s commentary or approval. He never asked for support or expected any. Ever since Corran had ended up face-down in the muck of Mon Gazza, he hadn’t told anyone his long-term ideas, much less needed their permission. And yet… a feeling nested in his chest. Ilana cared. She even wanted to help – beyond that, to do her best to help. When it came to the Arkanian doctor, her best was quite a lot to offer. Even though the young man felt he didn’t need help for his goals… for the first time, he was glad someone did want to aid him. Sky blue eyes shifted from Ilana’s face to her extended hand. The Ranger grasped it firmly; an extension of his gratitude and faith in her. “Thank you,” he said with some appreciation laced in his voice, “You’ve helped me in more ways than you realize already.” His eyes drifted up to her golden gaze. “I… know you’ll be there for me.”

As he reassuringly caressed her hand with his thumb, Corran felt the new weight of something. A new duty. A new oath. It wasn’t something official like being sworn in as a Sector Ranger. It wasn’t even said aloud. It was a… promise. A promise to himself that he would be there for her. Ilana wasn’t one of the countless denizens of the galaxy anymore, constantly fading and appearing in view; but a real attachment in his life. A constant. She wasn't even a coworker who could retire or merely move onto another assignment and be gone. Ilana would forever have an impact in his life now - even if she vanished tomorrow and he never saw her again. That weight came with responsibilities. To care for her. To help and aid her. They were beyond being forgotten. For some unknowable reason, that feel good.

Resisting the urge to stare at the beautiful Arkanian longingly for the rest of forever, the blond youth gently, but reluctantly, released his grip on her hand and continued eating. He was between a rock and a hard place, really. Cleaning his plate spotless of a delectable meal or indulging in the radiant visage of the woman across from him. Some might call that an embarrassment of riches. Corran certainly felt overly-rewarded. Soon, he was down to his last bite or two. "You know, I have to ask," the young man asked in-between chews, "When or where did you learn to cook so well? I remember you telling me you were often too busy." Truth be told, he was curious. He was curious about everything concerning Ilana. Her favorite color. Most liked planet. What she did in her free time. What she considered fun. That last one felt particularly of interest. If she was still up for it, Corran was going to get the rare chance in life to combine two of his favorite things: star-gazing and a woman he cherished. Even just thinking about it awoke butterflies in his stomach. Could the empath sense that eagerness? In a way, he hoped she could.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

As always, his touch sent a jolt of warmth like a current up her arm. Every touch of his was never intrusive or grabby; he had the right pressure to hold her without her feeling caged, but as always it almost felt like he released too soon. He was good about that; even in Nar Shaddaa, when they were both undercover. He had done nothing but been supportive, kind, even wiling to listen to her ideas like in Corellia's medpac operation. Ever since that second meeting in Nar Shaddaa, however, she felt...

Wanted. Appreciated. He gave her space when she needed it, a good ear when she wanted it. He only ever treated her like someone valued, but hearing that she helped him as well... the warmth in her chest grew, and she found herself at a loss for words. He had a talent for that as well, but that warm glow in his eyes especially drew her in and kept her captive, even when he was in a fully professional mode and nothing but business. But he seemed determined about something; even as he withdrew and started eating again, something was pressing on his mind.

Perhaps she would ask later.

At his question of her culinary abilities, her amber eyes glimmered with humor, one side of her lips quirking. "I'm surprised you remember," she answered honestly, spearing a piece of protein before answering, glancing down at it briefly before slowly back up to him. Curiosity radiated off him in waves; that earnest look just made her want to savor the moment, so she did, calmly eating the bite first before responding, a smile still on the corners of her lips. "I love cooking; it helps me relax. I learned while in medical school; Mother never allowed me anywhere near the staff. She claimed such works were beneath me, but..." a small, distant, but slightly sad smile touched her lips, her eyes. "every time I do, it's because I love to do it."

Artfully scooping up another mouthful of noodles and vegetables, she glanced up at him as though to say, did that answer your question? However, the smile still lingered in her gaze, if faded somewhat.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Amber eyes and a sly smirk teased the young man at his recollection. He playfully sneered back. If she only knew how much he actually stored away about her in his memories. Mostly the little things, like how her mouth twitched after he kissed her. The way her hair felt. The indignant way her brows dented when he teased her. Countless other tiny things that others may not notice, but he liked a great deal. As she took some time getting to the meat of his question, Corran likewise took his time indulging in the meat of the supper she so delightfully crafted. It said a lot about the pair - being able to eat in companionable silence and not feel awkward about it. The blond youth was only like that with two other people. He took another bite of noodles and veggies as Ilana got around to replying. There was some impressed surprise on his face when it was revealed the doctor was self-taught. The meal was practically gourmet. Definitely one of Corran's favorite meals he's had in months or the past year even. If it helped her relax during stressful times, then no wonder the Arkanian was such a splendid chef. Medical school and everything that followed would have been stressful for anyone. Luckily, Ilana had turned to a positive outlet.

For the rest of the answer, he absentmindedly nodded along. It's good that she loved it. Was it considered a hobby by this point? The off-duty Ranger glanced up at his companion and returned a soft smile to match her own. He took the last bite of his plate, a chunk of protein, and savored it. However, the words spoken just moments ago began to seep into his investigative brain. His chewing began to visibly slow. His grin began to fade. Corran finally swallowed and blinked at the woman sitting across from him. "She wouldn't let you near... the staff??" He asked in genuine confusion. It was obvious the cogs in his head began to turn. Like any crime scene he'd ever worked on, tiny details began to slide into place. Expensive medical school. Her mother believing manual tasks beneath her. The way Ilana Morata talked in that elegant, reserved way. The self-restraint. The cool demeanor. How she walked with natural confidence and never slouching. A memory smacked him across the face. It had been so obvious; how had he had not seen it before? Ilana, back on Nar Shaddaa, wrapped in a golden dress.

A clear realization dawned on the blond youth's face. His eyes slowly began to open wide. "You're - !" He tried to rise to his feet but his thighs hit the edge of the table causing some of the silverware to clatter and elicited a pained groan. He sat back down and regained some control over the initial burst of excitement. Instead of the sudden outburst, the young man leaned over the table. In a low voice, he accused her, "You're... someone special, aren't you?" An open-ended statement because there were a few possibilities. From Corran's lower class perspective, the Arkanian likely grew up in a massive manor with countless rooms. Luxury beyond only what he glimpsed at from their undercover work on a Smuggler's Moon party barge. She could be the daughter of a corporate executive. Perhaps a government official. Maybe even royalty.

Ilana would see there was no betrayal or negative feelings in the young man's aura or face. There was a kind of child-like excitement there. A mixture of pride in his own cleverness for finally piecing it together and that there was more to the beautiful doctor. Would wonders never cease?

@Killa Ree