Ask By The Books

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She chuckled at hearing his honest, unfiltered laugh. It vibrated against her as well, a pleasant sound that somehow seemed to speak of comfortable things. Things she hadn't really expected to want before... though perhaps he was that kind of person. That kind of guy that made you want to believe in things you knew you didn't deserve. But then he spoke.. and she felt her heart stutter in her chest, suddenly feeling cold.

"You think it's a trick?" She blinked, honest surprise glinting in amber eyes. "I was being honest! I..."

She flushed, then realizing their position. Her arms held away, legs wrapped around his waist. For a second she seemed... hurt. Actual offense in amber eyes flickered, before she shut it down again.

In retaliation, she yanked back on her arms hard, against the weak point where his fingers met with his thumbs. At the same time, she disengaged her legs, instead ramming a knee hard into his diaphragm to push herself up and back to her feet.

If the maneuver was successful, she'd scrabble away, breathing hard. Brows dented, lips pursed, jaw clenched, the blush of humiliation burned against her cheeks and ears, and she would resume her defensive stance, a new determined gleam in amber eyes.

"Maybe I smiled because I was enjoying a spar," she ground out through gritted teeth. Amber eyes glittered with anger, if it weren't for the flush of pink she would have seemed like marble.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

He expected a collapse of her ruse. That mask of sweet, unshackled Ilana would finally give way to the fanged, cunning predator that was trying to keep the Ranger's guard down. But it didn't. There was no clever retort or 'caught red-handed' moment. Instead an undeniable face of surprise appeared. The icy Arkanian seemed upset. Maybe even hurt. She claimed that it was all honest. Her face turned a pink shade of embarrassment and flicker of resentment flashed in her golden eyes before plunging back into the opaque depths of her pupils. Naturally, Corran weakened his grasp and his face changed to one of remorse. He never wanted to hurt her that way. "Ilana, I --"

A knee to his gut cut off his attempted words and forced all the air out of his lungs. Once the weight of the woman lifted off his diaphragm, the young man keeled over into a fetal position and began coughing fiercely. That was the most serious blow she had given him all day. He gulped down air like a fish out of water before crawling to his knees and supporting himself up on his knuckles. When his face finally rose from gagging into the soil, Corran's eyes were wet from the sudden loss of breath. The doctor's own countenance exuded nothing but embarrassment and anger. Oh yeah. She was definitely mad. He rose to his feet gradually, a forearm holding his gut, as he listened to her explanation.

It had all been real? The full smiles, the tender grins, and the tempting flirtations. They were all genuine? The blond you stared at her through red and teary eyes. It didn't make any sense to him at all. How could fighting like this make her that happy? Perhaps it wasn't the fighting at all. Maybe it was something else. Corran let go of his stomach and rotated his shoulders and took a deep inhale. No. No vocal apology would do. If he was going to get to the bottom of this, to understand the woman he so cared for, he would do it on her terms. The man tilted his head to one side and then the other. Corresponding pops could be heard. "What do you mean was enjoying?" A cruel sneer declared his intentions, teeth barred on one side of his mouth.

Labored breaths forced the Ranger's shoulders to rise and fall menacingly. One boot advanced. Then the other. The man began gathering speed like a locomotive. Each step forward gathering speed and power. Corran would attempt to make it look like another charge, but as he neared Ilana, he would leap into the air and deliver a flying punch. This would provide the height advantage to bring his own fist downward onto her head and hopefully make her taste the dirt she made him snack on earlier. Even if that didn't work and she evaded, he would resort to a boxing stance and lash out in a series of punches in alternating areas to probe for weakness. Hip. Chest. Left and right sides of the head. Stomach. Side. If nothing worked, there he would lift up a leg and kick her straight on with the sole of his boot to try and send her falling backwards.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

"Was," she clipped back in angry response, watching him sneer in return. Perhaps she was angry, furious even for the insinuation he had given her, but it was far more nettled pride than anything else. He assumed her manipulative; not a wrong assessment per se, but it wasn't like she would use those abilities against him. Not in that way.

As he began approaching, she tensed, weight on her left leg to ground her, right leg prepped. He leapt, she shifted to the side, but the blow still caught on her shoulder. She yelled out at the sudden pain that radiated down her collarbone, and thrust her right leg into his side, knee whamming into the softer side of his torso around the area of free-floating limbs.

At his blows, she would fend most of them with rapid blocking. Hard hits, left, right, some of them landing. The one to her right side of the head. Her side. Each one met with a snarl and a retaliated punch.

One jab to his jaw, feinted as the other jabbed for his stomach. But the second blow never landed as his leg lifted. She instead gripped his leg and shoved back hard, forcing him off balance once again. But the impact still knocked the air from her lungs and she stumbled back a bit, wheezing.

"You think I... don't learn how to fight?" she wheezed, blood beginning to trickle from her mouth. "Being kicked around, spat at, losing people?" she snarled, golden eyes burning bright with rage. Her hands trembled, jaw tight with pent up anger just threatening to burst. "That I would use you?!" That was the sticking point.

Kark him. She was deliberately trying not to break bones or truly hurt him, but it was so hard to resist. She was hurt, bleeding, her collarbone likely broken and more than a few ribs bruised. She wasn't happy with his assessment because it was true, in certain ways. She had used people before, had manipulated and lied. But fighting, hand-to-hand.

That was the one place she couldn't hide, couldn't lie. In an arena, she was equal, provided they saw past her size and appearance. But he hadn't seen it. At least... now he didn't. Her nostrils flared, eyes narrowed in focused anger as she fought hard to regain control. She held up her fists, trying to focus. He was her ally, and her opponent. She could face him.

"Come on," she seethed, amber eyes bright hot within that harsh gaze. And yet even still... there was an uncertainty to keep fighting. A slight hesitation.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Another counter followed yet another counter. Ilana was seemingly always prepared for his assaults. Either she could read his intentions that easily or reacted fast enough to make it look as such. His downward fist struck her torso and it felt heavy, but it wasn't the preferred target. While still descending, a powerful knee struck right into the same side location the doctor had damaged before. Corran visibly gagged in pain but adrenaline kept him in the fight once his feet touched the ground. While potent, the fight-or-flight response couldn't make up for the injuries already inflected. The young man's punches and jabs were getting weaker and he was only barely able to fend off most of the Arkanian's counter-punches. One struck his shoulder. The other his clavicle. A punch feinted to his jaw, but luckily he had wheeled back to give her a forceful boot-kick and it seemed to land. Unluckily, a ferocious grip grappled his calf and sent him careening backwards. The Ranger stumbled back quite a few steps, only preventing himself from falling flat on his rear by falling to one knee.

Blue eyes followed the trickling crimson down her lip. First blood. He had drawn first blood. The blond youth couldn't rise from his knee and remained there, listening to the impassioned woman not far from him. His broad chest rose and fell heavily, trying to bring in as much oxygen as possible to his exhausted and bruised muscles. This was the first time he had seen Ilana so angry. So raw. It was also the first time he had seen her so happy, earlier. Before he questioned it. Accused her of lying to trick him. Through her furious words, Corran could see pieces of a greater story. Ilana being scorned and abused. Learning how to fight by need or want. Losing people close to her. Those all felt passionate, but still distant. Memories being defended. The last sentence was closer. It was about him. He held his breath for a moment out of shock. Had he really been that insensitive? Ilana wasn't mad over the duel or some minor affront. She was hurt that he thought she would manipulate him. Dishonesty.

White fists rose again threateningly. Eyes like supernovas scorched him from a distance. She dared him to try. He had to. Anything short of his best would insult her further. With a pained groan, the Ranger stood up from his knee and steadied himself. He shook his shoulders and raised his fists. Dust kicked up with a last ditch burst of speed towards the icy target. But as he neared, his speed began to drop precipitously. His boots were filled with ferrocrete. Eventually even the tips of his shoes couldn't be lifted off the ground, dragging through the dirt. A last few haggard steps were all that was left of Corran's last hurrah. A lazy swing of his arm in something like a fist, far out of range, caused him to fall to his knees. Forward momentum had his cheek land on Ilana's stomach and a weak arm wrapped around her waist, just to keep the man from tumbling over.

"I tap out," he said weakly, exhaustion clear in his voice "I'm... sorr-"

Corran's grip was too faint to hold onto his dead weight any longer and he fell to the side almost face-first. Repeated strikes to his head and torso had absolutely battered his ability to go on. Under such viper-like strikes to his breathing and skull, it was impressive he had endured as long as he did. Doctor Ilana Morata has bested him and while Corran had no issue stomaching a defeat from someone he respected, he felt nothing but gloom over how he made her feel. Through half-lidded eyes, he stared at her boots, and awaited a final blow.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She tensed, fully prepared for another hard battering. He was resilient, tough, and more than a little stubborn. What she hadn't counted on was just how much damage she'd really done. Eyes widened in alarm as he suddenly slowed to a stumbling halt, staggering back at his sudden weight around her hips. Lips parted at the surrender, then the apology. She wasn't aware she was moving, until she was kneeling next to him, amber eyes wide.

Anger evaporated into worry, and she swallowed hard. That final blow never came.

Instead, she stared at him a moment... then sighed.

"No... I'm sorry," she rasped quietly. Instead of moving away, she sighed, feeling the red haze leave her eyes, clenched fists relax. Gentle hands checked for broken bones, bruises. What they did was stupid, so soon after a crash landing. Once the physician in her had done all she could to make sure he would at least be stable, she did something that might shock the Ranger instead.

She stretched out on the dirt next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist, head resting on his shoulder.

"I shouldn't have lost my head back there..." she murmured, eyes closing. "I don't.. do that. I..." the words faltered on her lips, and she cringed at the pain that radiated down her shoulder.

Look at the mess they were. Was she so dysfunctional, that she needed violence to relax? To hurt others to feel vindicated? Every breath ached, the ground hard and unforgiving. But he shouldn't have been punished for simply calling her out on his perceptions. Guilt gnawed to the surface once again, and she swallowed hard, trying to will the doubt away.

He's too good for you.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A dropped heel or powerful kick never came to send him into darkness. In the stead of violence, an unexpected apology escaped from the doctor’s lips. A weak huff of air from the blond youth’s nostrils signaled a type of surprised amusement. How quickly the avenging valkyrie became the healing angel. The very hands that battered and bruised him now methodically checked for the injuries they caused. Tiny snowflakes, cold and light, touched his neck, forehead, and sides. They felt around his knuckles and arms. Only the light and forming bruises caused Corran to wince. He was too weak to protest ouchies being touched. His own evaluation, for what that was worth, didn’t detect any grievous wounds like broken bones but there was some serious deep muscle bruising that would take time to heal or a good tub of bacta.

The gentle snowflakes turned into a constant chill around his waist and shoulder. Half-lidded blue eyes glanced over to see the Arkanian woman laying her head on his shoulder. Her arm must be around his middle. It felt… nice. Like an ice pack that actually cared about you. The soreness and pain in those areas numbed a little. She always knew how to make things better. Her apology continued; blaming herself for losing some level of control. The young man would have shaken his head if he had the energy. If she had truly lost her head, he would have been Force-pushed into the lake.

An exhausted laugh, with a few sputtering coughs intermixed, came from the downed Ranger. “My… My mom always said to me… you can tell when a girl cares about you,” he rasped, with shallow breaths in between words, “…when you can make her really mad.” Another weak burst of laughter followed, then a short coughing fit. A single sky-blue eye peered up from the dirt to the woman on his shoulder and that cocky, playful boyish smirk appeared on his face. Corran was going to be alright.

“I think…we might need more… more ground rules,” he wheezed, “…in the future.” Until they found a better release valve for her emotions, if they ever found one, they couldn’t take turns pile-driving each other into the ground forever. Even if it did teach the young man quite a bit on how to fight without a blaster in hand. His back rose and fell slowly and evenly as his breathing steadied, in a soothing rhythm for Ilana laying against him. “Are… are you okay?” Concern was distinct in his wounded voice. The man didn’t know if any of his strikes had left any lasting damage. A shaky hand floated from his body and rested on her hand not wrapped around his waist. He hoped she was in better condition than he himself was, in a paradoxical way.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She stilled when he mentioned his mother. Something about that mention panged slightly in her chest; she bit on her lower lip, then glanced up at him, amber eyes searching. Did she care? Was that all to it? Or was it something more... something she didn't even want to consider for herself? It felt selfish. It felt like what she had to give would be more like a punishment than a gift.

"Your mom's wise," she murmured, still watching his face. But at seeing that smirk... some of the concern melted from her features. At hearing his question though she averted her eyes, instead focusing at a point past his head. Her ribs ached. Her head pounded, a coppery taste still from biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood.

"I'm fine," she spoke up quietly, instead scooting closer and shutting her eyes. It was.. nice. For once. To be cared over. It was different than on Corellia. Then they were both strangers; this was a more honest peek at the woman that lurked beneath the veneer of professionalism. "Remember, big hazard of being a mob doctor. Some people like to beat me up because of many things... I learned how to fight back."

She didn't know where the words were coming from, but then they wouldn't stop. "I took lessons. Practice almost every day. Self-defense, mostly. But when you're smaller, when you look weak..." she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Maybe I just got tired of losing."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Corran would have normally been skeptical. Many "I'm fine's" in the galaxy were mere covers for not actually being fine. But had he not spent an entire sparing match learning to take her at her word? That unspoken faith was immediately rewarded as the beautiful Arkanian drew closer. There were few things the young man enjoyed more than Ilana being against him. Especially when he was achy and her colder body temperature chilled the worst pains. Even this closeness felt different somehow. And not because they were laying on the forest floor of an unknown location. It felt... honest. Like they were both themselves in a unique and different way. Corran would have enveloped her but his arms refused to budge.

Something curious happened. The usually tight-lipped doctor talked about herself. How being a medical professional in the criminal underworld came with a variety of risks, bodily and more. She had to learn how to fight or else the brute force of others would take more. The blond youth felt a kinship to that, in his own way. The beatings he took on Mon Gazza that ended his vain search. He too had to learn how to fight back or be crushed underfoot. Surprises kept coming as Ilana continued to speak. She had never been this open before, to his memory. Corran listened, keeping an one eye on the alabaster woman, trying to gauge her current state. It was a tale of overcoming expectations and defeat through constant hard work. Ilana was vulnerable. Had the duel really pushed through her barriers or was there... more?

Silence settled over the natural arena. Everything felt still. The trees even provided cover from the mountain breeze that caused the leaves to gently rustle above the two. He started quietly, both from weakness and sincerity, "You have been only strong to me. Even now. Especially now." The young man weakly chewed his bottom lip. Was that the right thing to say? He did mean her combat prowess, but there was more to it than that. It took incredible strength to be vulnerable and open with someone. Corran acknowledged it as especially tough for Ilana. He glanced away, staring at the soil and grass in front of his eyes. That yearning for more. He wanted to understand more. "When did you start learning? Self-Defense, I mean." The young man asked with an innocent curiosity in his voice. "How long have you been fighting?" Strength was returning to his voice and body. Even if the Ranger suddenly gained super strength, he wouldn't rise though. He wanted to lay with her a little longer.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

A faint breath huffed between her lips at his considering her always strong. That was the problem. She always had to be the strong one. In the face of grief, in the face of pain, she always had to pick herself up and keep moving, but that was always so exhausting. And she was done trying to get up.

At his question of how she began to learn, however, she shut her eyes, keeping silent.

It was after a few moments of silence, she spoke again, her voice a low, soft rasp.

"Almost a decade ago," she spoke up quietly, sighing. "I was a resident; some street thugs assaulted me on my way to work, held me at gunpoint while I treated their boss." She opened her eyes again, staring up at eyes of blue. "Thankfully, I saved his life; they let me go. I was paid."

There was more to that story that she wouldn't tell, but there was no point in telling it. There was so much more implied there. "I used that money for my first lessons; I fight so I can never be that helpless again."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Another story of wrong place, wrong time. Of injustice and cruelty. Was the galaxy that unfair? In some measure, he knew much of it was. That’s why the Sector Rangers existed. Where traditional law enforcement couldn’t or wouldn’t be, the extrajudicial Rangers stepped in. Yet good people, people like Ilana fell through the cracks. Had she truly been scraping by, and eventually rising through, the criminal underworld for nearly 10 years? That was longer in time than his first street fight ever. A memory back to Corellia. An Arkanian being assaulted by two brutes. Corran glanced down at his shoulder and back, what was visible from his beaten and defeated prone position. In that decade, he wondered how many encounters ended up with Ilana in a gutter or like her opponents ending up like him today. Face down in the dirt. If anyone helped her when she was down. A sense of guilt grumbled in his stomach.

That guilt began to fade as something in him pushed back against the thought of dark pasts. The Ranger hadn’t been there for her back then, he couldn’t have, but he could be there for her now. All her history and actions pointed to one thing - that people didn't stay long. Either by choice or accident, the doctor had been alone. That was a world Corran had never known. There were always people in his corner, even in the darkest days. Even when it was just his mom. Maybe... maybe their worlds didn't have to be so different.

“You don’t have to be strong or fight on your own anymore,” Corran offered softly, “If you don’t want to.” An unsure silence followed. The words had flown out like lake birds taking flight. Graceful and long, but often surprising. It felt natural, though, to say it. That gave the young man more courage, which gained strength much like his own body. "I've been told I'm pretty reliable," he said with that grin. "Present condition excluded." The blond youth chuckled a bit with only interruptions from one or two coughs this time. He cleared his throat and continued in a tone more like his usual, "Even roughed up, I can still manage." Corran gestured with a weak tilt of his head to his own torso, which she was literally using as support. It was a nice metaphor for what he was trying to say.

“What do you think?”

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She blinked at his words, head tilting back to regard him calmly, lips parted slightly in shock. Surprise didn't even begin to cover it. Sure, he fought hard, and she felt she held her own rather fairly. But instead of treating her like some anomaly or someone not worthy of trust, he offered...

To be there.

She wasn't quite sure what to say, simply too stunned to speak. Despite everything, the many sins of her past, her coldness, her demeanor, he wanted to stick around? She was a health hazard, a disaster, but yet he wanted her. Wanted to be reliable to her... and even then, she knew he was. She knew it since the first time she woke up in his apartment to a glass of water and some painkillers, and had treated her with a good-heartedness that never lasted in the galaxy.

So she didn't answer, at least not right away. She simply scooted up, pressing her lips against his. A light, tender, almost hesitant kiss, pressed to his cheek. Slowly she sat up, one arm still draped over his waist, the other's hand still twined with his. "I don't... trust easily," she rasped quietly, chewing her bottom lip. "Every time I have, they've vanished. I don't... want to lose you too."

Simple, quiet words, but heartfelt in their quietness. A simple declaration; she cared, she trusted, but more than that she was terrified. There were too many implications to what happened, especially with their work. She wasn't sure if she could live with losing another person, especially Corran.

"But..." she hesitated, exhaling on a shaky breath.

"I want to try. Just... be patient with me?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Her initial silence gave Corran a sense of uncertainty. Had he said something he shouldn't? A face of reserved surprise, only given away by her slightly parted lips, looked back at him. Usually a clever quip, gentle rebuttal, or reluctant acceptance soon followed anything the Ranger said to her. None of that surfaced. The doctor was often difficult to read, but this was something different altogether. He didn't dare move, lest he force some outburst, but he watched her steadily with a single eye. Perhaps the young man had been too direct. Misjudging their connection, maybe. He couldn't deny that is what he wanted to express in this moment. That's what he truly felt and he had never hidden anything from her. Corran could only wait as the cogs turned in the Arkanian's head.

When the guarded woman finally did move, her response was better than he could have hoped. Ilana pressed her full lips against his cheek, though only ever so gently. A wordless gratitude. He watched her finally rise from her position on him, following the movement with a single, curious, eye. Her arm over the small of his back and hand interlocked with his kept that affectionate warmth, ironically supplied by her chill touch, flowing through his chest. The marble woman finally broke her silence. If his chin wasn't in the dirt, Corran would have nodded. Ilana's trust was a hard-won thing and earned piece-meal. That much he already understood. Others had come and gone throughout her entire life. Loss like that was hard to overcome. The young man knew what responsibility he was taking on, but the burden was light when it came to her. What was new was she said next.

Him. She didn't want to lose... him. Other's hearts may have skipped a beat, but his felt like it stopped entirely. Such an admission seemed impossible, at first. A fiercely independent, serious to a fault, deeply private, doctor of the underworld had grown... attached. Corran reached inside himself. Was he attached as well? It only took a moment to draw forth the answer. Of course he was. Only then did his heart start beating once more. Though, the Arkanian woman sounded like she was preparing a rebuttal. A reason to keep the blond youth at arm's length. But...

Ah. There was the reluctant acceptance.

In this case, Corran preferred a slow-arriving acceptance than none at all. It was clear this was an incredible challenge for Ilana to accept, much less vocalize. Every word felt weighty and exhausting. He'd be gentle, recognizing all her effort. "Of course," Corran replied gingerly, "When have I ever not been patient?" He gave her hand a tender squeeze as a sign of his supportive affection. For a while longer, the young man's eye lingered on the snowy, beautiful woman. That is until his back began to ache a little. He'd been laying down too long.

Releasing the doctor's hand with obvious reluctance, Corran pushed himself off the ground carefully. For too long he had been enduring the earth's embrace. A joint or two popped loudly with his rising. When he finally sat upward, he propped himself up on one arm. His face had smudges of dirt that gave a grizzled filter to the blond youth's features. Some bruises had also started to make themselves visible already. The Ranger twisted his neck carefully until it finally popped. He then grimaced a bit in subdued discomfort, "If you're able, mind helping me up?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Joints popping was nothing new with him, but seeing all the bruises... yeah, it was going to be a long few days. He hated being touched at or near them, so perhaps it was best to avoid touch altogether. But seeing him all roughed, with hair tussled and smudges of dirt... it was kind of cute, in a roguish way. She had to remember he was definitely younger than her, and though he had definite sour experiences with the galaxy at large, it hadn't broken that innocence yet. She hoped she wouldn't be the one to shatter that illusion.

She would try her hardest not to.

Grinning slightly, she offered down a hand, but when she would help him up, there was a definite grimace of pain flashing across her features, a hand pressing over her collarbone. Bruises began to bloom, deep purple in vibrant contrast to the paleness of her skin. There was a shadow of a knuckle imprint on her cheekbones, almost looking like someone painted the hollow there with violet, and the knot where they knocked heads also deep in color.

She was definitely going to feel all of it tomorrow, but at least she knew he would hold his own without her needing to worry. "Thanks," she rasped quietly, nodding along to his question about new rules. "That would be wise... but I can't promise that I would behave." A small, rare smile touched the corners of her lips, amber eyes glinting with a trace of mischief. "After all, a lady needs some advantage."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Given the beating he had taken, Corran had expected the doctor to be in a much better condition. She had been still standing after all. He took her hand with a firm grip and used what strength he could muster to get back on his feet. Halfway up, he saw Ilana quickly cover her collarbone and grimace in pain. A shot of concern dashed through the young man’s chest and evident on his face. Once standing, he didn’t let go of her hand, but instead took a moment to examine it. Her white knuckles were black and blue. More injuries became apparent the longer the Ranger glanced her over. The bump on her forehead would match his and likely not be too severe. Purple imprints of his knuckles on her face could practically be used to identify him in an investigation. He released the Arkanian’s hand and rested his own on his hip. There would certainly need to be better defined rules in the future.

As if reading his thoughts (she practically could), Doctor Morata agreed that new rules should be considered to avoid similar problems. The icy woman then allowed a not-often-seen warm smile. Golden eyes flirted dangerously. Corran couldn't help but chuckle, "I'll allow it. I always follow all the rules or else you'd be eating dirt for dinner." That was a playful and blatantly arrogant boast. It need not be said that he was the one who ended up defeated in their first bout, not her. "We can discuss the new boundaries after getting some medical attention." The young man's glances between her eyes and her shoulder hinted that he wasn't talking about himself. While the Ranger was becoming notorious for his resistance to check-ups, Ilana was the type to be too stubborn to look after herself in some cases. “At least for that collarbone,” he gently pleaded.

Corran's strength was returning by this point. He could breath steadily again and probably make the walk back to the downed courier. At least limp the way back. The camp-site might be a bit of a stretch, but the Ranger had endured more exhausting situations than this. Though, he was a bit perplexed on how they'd heal the more serious injuries. As much as he'd like to, kissing them better probably wouldn't help much. On second thought, that didn't sound so bad.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She smirked at his bold statement of her hitting the ground more frequently, amber eyes glittering. "Are you so sure?" came her dulcet tones, perking a white brow. "What instills such confidence?" But speaking of food... her gaze panned back to the courier. Then back to the camp, and then up at him.

Slowly, she reached over and lightly touched the back of his hand with her own. "...so long as you're gentle," she replied quietly, eyes downcast. "But I'm starving... and not keen for a round two for the time being. Rest with me?" She didn't look up into his face; she wasn't sure how to proceed. Everything felt so fresh, raw, and new... she wasn't sure how to process it. At all. But he seemed to look at her in a new light... she just wasn't certain if it was a good light or not.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

This place, this star-fallen lake, must hold some soothing or transformative power. Ilana was acting... differently. Still herself, but calmer. Friendlier. It was hard to put into words. There had been many clues before but there were more apparent to the blond youth now. Even at his clearly teasing boast, the doctor replied in a pacifying, soft tone. She didn’t even mock him, in her own coy way. Even as she glanced away to look at their surroundings, Corran could not pull his eyes away from the wintery woman.

As delicate fingers brushed the back of his hand, something about her touch even felt mellow. At the request of gentle care, the young man could only silently nod. Not only because he agreed, but the way Ilana was talking was hypnotic. Was this another force-power or her or just this place? The mention of food summoned a hunger in the Ranger’s gut. He had forgotten they only ate a ration bar for breakfast and that was before they had exerted themselves in a nearly no-holds-barred fight. At her request, a bare huff of amusement exhaled through Corran’s nose. “I’d be more than happy too.” He almost replied with a sarcastic tease; rest with her? As opposed to anyone or anywhere else around? But no, he was too entranced with her siren-song voice and alluring aura.

He took the Arkanian by the hand that touched his own and requested she follow with the softest of pulls. They could return to the camp site, but Corran guessed that the ship likely had better food, something like a kitchen, and access to better medical supplies. Not that they were too heavily injured, but bacta or kolto went much farther than icepacks and bandages. As the pair walked together towards the downed Quad Five, the young man couldn’t help but feel a tingling feeling. Perhaps it was his injuries. Perhaps it was this new Ilana. No; not new. She was still the same, just more... her. How he saw her.

The ship was in the exact same spot and the exact same shape as the day before. That was a good thing for a crashed vessel. It meant it was steady and not likely to topple over. Corran released the doctor’s hand and leaned on the ship near the sealed rear entrance, awaiting for her to lower the ramp. “What are you feeling for lunch?” He asked sincerely. Was it even noon? This world seemed like a place out of time entirely. Blue eyes fell on the clear injury on her cheek once more. It was impressive she could think of food while as wounded as she was. They would handle both in time and time, it felt like, they had plenty of.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

It was so odd for someone to treat her so gently, especially after the beating they had given each other earlier. He was surprisingly capable of much gentleness, she recalled the blaster burn on Nar Shaddaa and the broken rib wrapping before that. Both times he treated her like she was someone worthy of care; perhaps it would eventually fade in value, but it was still such a novelty. His subtle annoyance was noted not just with emotion, but the flare of his nostrils as he huffed at her question of minding for rest. As well as when she brushed against his hand... and he took her hand.

A warm jolt shivered up her arm, and she was keenly aware of every movement, the subtle tug leading her on. So when he released her hand, there was a brief feeling of disappointment, quickly masked as she turned away to key in the code for the ramp to lower. He kept glancing to her face; she was sure, like him, she was covered in many shadowy bruises. Speaking of, she could still feel that trickle of blood from her mouth still on her chin; she fought the urge to brush at it, instead staring at him when he mentioned lunch.

"I'm... not sure," she finally rasped, frowning. "I normally don't have the hours."

Mostly the truth, as she spent her free lunch hour catching up on paperwork. Instead she stepped in, flicking lights to life. Nothing seemed out of place; the R2 was likely charging, and the silence aside from faint lapping water at the beach of the open ramp below was almost deafeningly quiet. Instead, she slowly turned to him, head slightly tilted. "Anything you prefer?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A single eyebrow raised in a wordless expression of skepticism and curiosity. She didn’t know what she liked for lunch? The Ranger knew she was busy but he didn’t know she was that busy. She had admitted before that breakfast was alien to her and lunch now as well. Supper must really have been her only meal of the day and naturally her expertise. As the ramp descended, questions suppressed during their recovery from the crash and their intense duel began to resurface. The young man was defined much by his work as well, but he still made time for personal relaxation. Surely Ilana did the same? If so, what made up her moments of private peace?

Lights flickered to life in the courier as the Arkanian lead the way into the hull. At least the power was still operable. That meant food storage likely hadn’t spoiled. Corran made sure to hop up onto the metal ramp as to avoid getting his boots wet in the surf. The ship itself was practically devoid of all sound or motion. Its silence was second only to the vacuum of outer space. The doctor turned to look back at her companion and inquired of his preference for sustenance. His injuries cried out for something cold, but he knew something warm would do his body better. “Anything to ward off a chill and give some energy to my muscles,” the young man replied, approaching Ilana as he spoke. “What do you have available? Packaged soup, at least?” It ultimately came down to what she had available.

A spot of red against a white canvas immediately caught the young man’s attention. His eyes glanced at her golden stare before dropping back to her chin. A small sigh and a subtle shake of the head expressed a subdued amount of affectionate concern. Corran gingerly placed his hand on Ilana’s cheek and rubbed away the blood that ran from her lip and down to her chin with his thumb. “Tsk. Maybe you should get things going in the med lab and I’ll bring lunch to you.” Eyes as calm as a clear summer sky flicked up to meet her amber once more, “Unless you don’t allow food near the work station.” A common refrain of employers everywhere. It was clear he was worried about their - specifically her - injuries lingering without proper attention.

Until that was seen to, his questions about her expressions during the fight, the things she liked, and more, would have to wait.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She didn't need to be an empath to feel the disbelief radiating off of Corran at her statement. What? It was true! Most days she didn't have the luxury of a sit-down meal of any real kind, unless it was a bolted-down protein bar first thing in the morning or, if she was graced a night, a small meal to herself. But lunch was rarely important, unless she was absolutely ravenous.

She nodded once to the kitchenette, about to turn towards it, before she caught his expression. Concern, warmth, something about the way he looked at her made her pause. Like she actually mattered. Her lip and cheek were still very sore to the touch; when he rubbed the blood away, she winced subtly, lightly pulling back at the touch. She was tolerant to some pain as well... but her face was always especially sensitive to touch. "Yes sir," she quipped, and then gave a one-shouldered shrug. "So long as you don't leave crumbs or use laser cauterizers as dining utensils, we should be fine," she rasped, stalking off towards the lab.

Truthfully, she wasn't up to verbal banter after the physical; she knew he was right, but there was a reason that there was the saying "doctors make the worst patients." Once she got to the lab, she once again shucked off her coat and holster, then her top, to better scan her torso and arms.

Sure enough, the marking on her collarbone looked deep red in the center of the purple; staring at the mirror there, she grimaced when her fingers lightly ghosted over it. Wasn't broken.. but it made movement more difficult. Hopefully, he would find some of what they needed, but right now she had to sit and wait.

A new concept, really.

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

When Ilana pulled away from his hand with a wince, Corran felt a pang of sympathy in his chest. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one intolerant of ouchies. The doctor’s immediate retort was more sassy than well-meaning before she marched off towards the ship’s lab. His eyes lingered at her back vaguely as she departed. If she was in a huff, maybe bringing food as a peace offering would smooth out the social wrinkles. Lunch wasn’t exactly the young man’s expertise, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?

Ingredients were hard to come by. Seemingly everything in the kitchenette was protein bars or edible meals on the go. The blond youth opened another secured cabinet. Oh look; more protein bar boxes. The Arkanian must eat like a bird. That might explain how she keeps her figure, but not how she maintains her muscle. Regardless, something needed to be thrown together. Luckily, the small fridge contained an assortment of things that on the face of it didn’t quite go together, but desperation was the mother of all innovation. The Ranger couldn’t recall who said that.

After some time, bootfalls against starship floors announced lunch had arrived long before the young man entered the medical lab. In each hand was a container that held a warmed chicken wrap, with some greens and condiments inside that made for dressing. The containers prevented crumbs better than plates and wraps weren’t that messy anyway. Corran had walked in with his eyes on the food, making sure not to drop it. “We’ve got some hearty and healthy wraps. Chicken for protein and… and…” His voice trailed off as his eyes looked up and finally saw Ilana. Beautiful stretches of snowy skin only interrupted with blended colors of pink, red, and purple, greeted his gaze. He had seen her disrobed a handful of times, but he hadn’t tired of it yet. Not at all. Corran stood there, mouth hanging open, in a frozen stare. It’s a shame all the colors on the Arkanian woman were injuries; they provided beautiful contrast to her marble complexion.

“I… I b-b-brought lunch,” the blond youth finally stuttered, resuming his original intentions like a degraded holovid. A cleared throat and a shake of the head allowed him to regain his composure. He set down the meal on a counter nearest to the doctor-turned-patient and then allowed another brief glance, this time more clinically. “I’m not a doctor,” Corran admitted, “but that collarbone looks the most serious to me.” He pointed to the injury with an index finger. “Cheek and lip look like they could use some attention too.” He vaguely gestured to the knuckle-imprinted wound. That was all his visual best-guesses though. Doctor Morata knew herself better than he ever could, though not for lack of trying or interest on his part. They'd get to that in a moment. "Where should we start?"

@Killa Ree