Taking the seat offered, Bast shook her head to indicate she would not be taking any of the kid’s candy. The offer was kind, but she never took food or drink from other people, even Rangers. It was simply her policy. Some of the younger folks might call her paranoid and the older ones would most definitely call her a little soft, but the fear of what might be in the sweets meant she would never be able to keep them down. If the Corellian woman could have some semblance of control, she would be in control at all times.
“Sure, you can call me Bast. I am not quite sure if the rank of Lieutenant even suits me.” She chuckled nervously, brushing over the guilt that came with the title. It was the formal and technical way to address her, but it was a party. Who was the spineless lady to tell the kid she deserved that sort of respect? Not to mention, he was clearly just as uncomfortable as she and formalities would not aid the floundering conversation. When Poet got to the bit about his accident, her eyebrows drew together in sympathy, but her face remained impassive.
”Unfortunately injuries are far too common in our line of work.“ The Ranger must have hit his head pretty damn hard for it to leak brain fluid, she mused. Most didn’t survive concussive injuries of that caliber. Resisting the temptation to crack a joke about the kid having a thick skull to break the tension, she sat, waiting for him to finish.
It seemed a mutual pity bound them, as if they could both see there was something missing and hoped the other had that fragment of soul. Of course, he didn’t. The fragment was somewhere deep in space, near Manaan. The Lieutenant had tried to find it on her training mission with Captain Rook, but had come back empty handed. Captain Rook. A small twinge of pain was visible on her face for a moment before she could disguise it.
“I’m well, thank you.” It wouldn’t take a hound to sniff out that lie. “Well, I’m holding on, you know? Doing my small part, whatever that means. Really I spend most of my days working and the others watching my goddaughter-“ the hazel eyes drifted for a moment, picturing the perfect child. She did not have a life outside of those things. She never knew she had wanted one. “A couple years back I was injured too.” She swallowed, summoning the courage to utter the name of the place that had taken her innocence, her pride, and her team. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of Outpost Blue. It‘s a training station now. Anyway, I know it’s rough to be doing paperwork instead of chasing criminals. I... er... hope you recover quickly. Do you have any family around here?”
@Forsythe Crowholde
“Sure, you can call me Bast. I am not quite sure if the rank of Lieutenant even suits me.” She chuckled nervously, brushing over the guilt that came with the title. It was the formal and technical way to address her, but it was a party. Who was the spineless lady to tell the kid she deserved that sort of respect? Not to mention, he was clearly just as uncomfortable as she and formalities would not aid the floundering conversation. When Poet got to the bit about his accident, her eyebrows drew together in sympathy, but her face remained impassive.
”Unfortunately injuries are far too common in our line of work.“ The Ranger must have hit his head pretty damn hard for it to leak brain fluid, she mused. Most didn’t survive concussive injuries of that caliber. Resisting the temptation to crack a joke about the kid having a thick skull to break the tension, she sat, waiting for him to finish.
It seemed a mutual pity bound them, as if they could both see there was something missing and hoped the other had that fragment of soul. Of course, he didn’t. The fragment was somewhere deep in space, near Manaan. The Lieutenant had tried to find it on her training mission with Captain Rook, but had come back empty handed. Captain Rook. A small twinge of pain was visible on her face for a moment before she could disguise it.
“I’m well, thank you.” It wouldn’t take a hound to sniff out that lie. “Well, I’m holding on, you know? Doing my small part, whatever that means. Really I spend most of my days working and the others watching my goddaughter-“ the hazel eyes drifted for a moment, picturing the perfect child. She did not have a life outside of those things. She never knew she had wanted one. “A couple years back I was injured too.” She swallowed, summoning the courage to utter the name of the place that had taken her innocence, her pride, and her team. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of Outpost Blue. It‘s a training station now. Anyway, I know it’s rough to be doing paperwork instead of chasing criminals. I... er... hope you recover quickly. Do you have any family around here?”
@Forsythe Crowholde