Objects in space...

[Atham'aali'kema]

The way she pulled him along, he was sure he had said something wrong. Perhaps he had confessed to something that would be problematic for his station within the Alliance. Or perhaps the complication of their interaction was something he wasn't supposed to outright confess. Either way, if Harla would have looked back as she pulled him from the room to the hall and to the workout room, she might have noticed a dazed expression.

"Resent you for shooting me..." That was the first bit that confused him, one he met with a nearly stifled disagreement in the form of a headshake. He was suddenly aware of the fact that the way Vong interacted and the way other alien species interacted was supremely different. Though he had always watched from afar or just heard rumors, he understood the nature of courtship to be one of constant turbulence.

"Why am I fond of you?" He repeated the question slowly, looking down at his hand, still gripped with an addition of green that entangled his own. "Why is a difficult question. One that can never be answered, not fully. Why is the only question that when answered, justifies a response that includes the initial question. I answer, you ask why again, and we proceed down an endless loop."

He paused, gently turning her hand over to reveal the topside of her palm. He might have said that such a thing could have formed from her original questions, to know the the origin beyond his capabilities. To know who he was instead of simply what he was. But even with his typical form of bluntness, it felt self serving.

"Why am I found of you...I don't know. Is it not enough to know that I am?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

An involuntary step forward as he turned her palm over in his blue hands. The healer got an up close and personal look at his scared and bare chest. Latching onto his question and pushing away distracted thoughts, she seriously thought about it. Myrtle-ellipses drifted down to his fingers playing along her palm. The creases and life lines in the flesh that had now become her own - and only a few more the ago. Sometimes, she still felt as though she weren't staring at her own skin.

She didn't move away from Maalik. If anything, she moved closer.

"I think for now," eyes finally lifted. "It's enough." It was funny how a heart could be softened toward another. She'd been confused with Trextan. His eyes had always been for someone else and maybe deep down, so had hers. She'd been waiting for someone else. She had friends and then there was...this.

It was actually rather scary.

Just when she was content to be among friends, Maalik had come along and dashed her subconsciously well made plans. Gabe would most likely laugh and shake his head at her now, if he could hear her train of thoughts. Thank the stars the old man wasn't a mind reader.

"Oh," realization dawned across her tattooed cheeks even as she felt the beginnings of weariness nip at her bones. They'd have to find a spare room on the station soon. Most standard rooms had bunk so it wouldn't be COMPLETELY awkward. "When we get to Sulon, there's someone I want you to meet."

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

He didn't move in response to her movement, only shifting his hand to show a definitive acceptance of it. And then he slowly smiled. Not in response to just her answer, but the way she implied some continuance with a lift of the eyes and the shift of her body language. That in some distant future, she might require something more of him. An expectation that he had never experienced, implied or otherwise, from a past that seemed so bleak compared to these brief passing moments.

"Good." He stated with that same sort of cold confidence, pleased to know that his ignorance was enough for the time being. It could have easily been that he was too abashed to state his reasons for his fondness, a skepticism that would have been appropriate if not for knowing him and his tendencies for a certain abrupt bluntness. The alternative was far more likely, that he didn't understand his own feelings. He couldn't place a definition on it, a particular drive to protect her and be near her but beyond that, he was stumbling over foreign sensations.

And that was enough...for now.

"This someone I have to meet?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is it someone I should be worried about?"

There didn't seem to be any rush on finding a room to sleep, given their distance to travel towards Sulon. He wondered if she would still need to be debriefed or if that time had passed, given the duration of the questioning.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

He maintained his grip on her hand and she didn't remove it, letting herself enjoy the closeness of the moment without delving into too many distracting questions. A quick smile curled over her mouth. "No. I don't think so." Eyes widened slightly as she thought about what Gabe might do. She still didn't know how he fared on Bespin. Was he in a ship like this somewhere as well?

Waiting his return to Sulon?

"His name's Gabriel Sionoma. He's my mentor and instructor." And of course, he was a lot of other things. In their short time together, he'd become family. "He wasn't exactly in good standing with the alliance when he first came to them either but that's his story to tell. You two might have a lot in common."

Or maybe they'd kill each other.

Head shook at the extreme thought.

Comm buzzed at her side and her free hand plucked it off her belt, staring down at the screen. A frown tugged on her lips. "Looks like they do need me to debrief. Maybe you can find a quartermaster and get us a room assignment? I could meet you there or the cantina?"

Myrtle ellipses finally lifted from the soft glow of the digital screen.

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

Molten orbs transitioned to something more resembling burnt coal as he looked towards her, towards her vibrantly lit datapad, and her mention of the debriefing. Had he the suave and swagger of a man of his typical age, he might have leaned forward and offered a kiss on the cheek before heading off. One placed with discrimination on her cheek tattoo, one that promised future questioning on what such ink meant and how it had impacted her life. Absent all knowledge of the life that preceded existence that wasn't originally hers. But instead, it was a more subtle thing.

A press of the thumbs against her knuckles. The way her skin moved with slight pressure, the shift of purple and blue veins with the slightest touch, deserved his uninterrupted attention. He suddenly realized that that was a detailed that he had failed to fully investigate, to fully understand. It seemed, for the moment, to be quite pertinent.

"A cantina..." he stated quietly as the thumb lifted from her knuckle. "I will speak to the quartermaster and I will wait for you at the Cantina." He wasn't ready for bed, not just yet. There was more to discuss. About her, about him, perhaps even about this Gabriel Sionoma. He would, with apprehension, release his hand from hers with the sudden realization that his palm was slightly sweaty. With an awkward smile, he backed out of the room and was on his way with the assignment.

~~~​

​

"What are you having?"
Maalik looked quietly up at the menu, eyes drifting over each item with a certain precision. "Do you carry any sort of mead?"
"Mead?"
"Mmm. Yes."
"Maybe?" The man looked around the bar top, a rag in one hand, a bottle in the other, and a mustache running ambitiously across the top of his lip.
"Looks like we might have a bit of vintage."
"Age isn't an issue for Mead. Once it reaches proper fermentation-"
The bartender held up his hand, stopping the discussion. Pouring an ample amount, he scooted it forward and moved to assist another patron.

Maalik pulled up a seat and did his best to smile at the person sitting next to him. With a ruffle of their nose, they moved, and Maalik was left wondering about what insult he might have caused. Lifting his shirt to his nose, he shook his head with the glass in hand. "It's not the smell. Must be something else."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

The healer couldn't help but stare at her hand, even as she sat among the others, crammed in the mid-sized debriefing room. Fingers flexed as if she could still fell the gentle pressure of blue fingertips there and that brush of his thumb across her skin. She and Maalik had come so far in such a short time. It made her hesitant to trust the feelings she was having.

Myrtle-ellipses swept across the room. She recognized some surviving soldiers from their party and a few others. But no close friends in this group. There were murmurs of others missing. There wasn't much left of the anoat first order station. She and Maalik had been some of the lucky ones to get off. She couldn't help the sense of guilt, a quiet habit, that maybe she could've done MORE.

She felt herself become more numb as the debriefing went on. Reports didn't look good for Hoth or Bespin. The Alliance was in retreat-mode. They'd delivered a hard punch to the Order's gut but that was it. Digging out her comm, she sent a quick message to Gabe, worry knitting at her tattooed-brow.

::Safe. Headed to Sulon. Are you okay?::

He didn't need to know about her wound or Maalik. The would wound be fine in a day or less and Maalik would be better introduced in-person. Comm slipped back in her pocket, not expecting a response right away. As they were dismissed, heavy steps lead her toward the cantina.

Didn't take her long to spot Maalik at the bar. By himself. Was he trying to...smile? Her heavy-laden footsteps instantly grew a bit lighter. The mirialan slid up I to the stool next to him. "Making any friends?" She mused and immediately plucked up a menu. She was....famished. Despite how hard she tried, there was an edge of weariness and defeat that remained in her tone.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

He was currently sorting out the purpose of the straw in his cup of mead, which by the smell of things, was a poor vintage. He would let the bartender know once he returned.

"Friends?" He leaned towards the bartop, surveying the empty seats around them and shook his head. With pursed dark lips, he looked back towards the Mirialan. "Only you. Which is fine. I thought it was a smell issue but after proper investigation, I don't think that's the problem. I smell...normal."

His confidence was cool and calculated, as if he knew what proper smell was. "The quartermaster has afforded us a single room, though the bedding situation wasn't disclosed. Everything seems on short supply with evacuations and retreat from Bespin."

The shade of confidence turned pale as he looked back to his cup, blue fingers warily resting around the rim. "Harla. Why did the bartender put trash in my drink?"

Whatever sense of defeat and weariness she might have worn, heart on her sleeve, Maalik was entirely unaware when matters of hygiene were of concern. Mead was nearly sacred among the Vong. He couldn't help but feel offended at this slight, the furrowing of his brow more than enough to signal such insult.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

It's funny how a man so literal, so calculated, and taught to be so far removed could be drawn to a woman who could very well be his opposite. Purple lips twitched and she gulped back a laugh as Maalik spoke about smell. Elbow propped itself on the bar, chin dipping to rest in an upturned green palm. Fingers slid slyly over to cover her mouth.

"Mmm. MMhm. You do smell quite normal," voice was a tad muffled.

She was thankful for her hand on her face for other reasons as Maalik dropped their single room situation like it was as normal as him drinking his mead. Chestnut-brows lofted high onto her brow. Myrtle-ellipses immediately stayed glued to the menu. Single room as in single bed!? Or single bunk? She shifted a bit on her stool. Pfffft, she'd survived multiple wars and an essence transfer. She could make the bedding situation work for whatever it would be. Stop worrying, Tahee.

"What?" Gaze snapped up and over to his cup. Hand left her face and she leaned over, closer to him, arm brushing against his as she squinted at his drink. Green-nose sniffed slightly. She couldn't mistake that smell. It seemed continually trapped within the fabric of Gabe's clothing. That man and his choice of drink.

"You mean the straw?" Green-index finger reached out and poked the plastic.

"It's just something bartenders do and put in drinks. I don't think it's personal." Odd? Yes. Personal? Probably not. "You've never seen a straw?" The same bartender came over and looked Taheera over.

"What'll you be having?"

"I'll take some Juju fruit water." Keeping a straight-face, "Hold the straw, though. And a double-nerf burger with extra pickles." The bartender nodded and turned to Maalik. "Anything to eat for you?"

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"A straw..." He nodded, rattling it about as she pressed against him. The plastic bit of garbage bounced around the rim of the glass before he reached forward and pulled it from the cup. Meticulously, he placed it down on the coaster napkin and sipped the drink. Just as he thought. Passable vintage.

As she ordered, Maalik mirror her movement to look at the menu with a lean that violated all forms of personal space. He nodded in approval as she ordered each item, especially the bit about not wanting a straw. Just as the bartender asked what he wanted, he leaned back to his proper sphere and sat up straight.

"What do you have that isn't trash?" He blinked slowly as the Bartender didn't reply. "Uhh, garbage? Refuse?" As he was muttering words, the bartender slid the menu forward, brushing against Maaliks blue fingers that were resting around the bottom of the cup. He stopped in his tracks and looked down at the digital display. Taking a wild guess, he perked up.

"I'll take the surf and turf...with a side of fry."
"Fry? You mean fries?"
"Oh, it comes with multiple?" He looked down. "So it does. Yes, I'll take those. Also..." he held up the plastic piece of trash to the bartender. "Hold the straw."
"It doesn't come with a straw..."
"Even better." Maalik lifted the menu to the bartender with a smile. As the man left, he turned to Harla with a warm, yet neutral, expression.

An expression that slowly turned into a sideways smirk. He was a warrior, trained on understanding the opponent. She most certainly wasn't an opponent but he couldn't turn the reading off. The way she squirmed after mention of the single room, the way her expression shifted when she thought he hadn't noticed. Even slight shifts in body composure.

"If the single room is a problem, we can figure out a different arrangement after dinner. I don't sleep all that often, as it is. It...shouldn't be a problem."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

Fries. Straws. Almost comical not knowing these things coming from his warrior and almost intimidating form. Reminded the healer a little bit of her first few months when she 'woke up' in the adult-like body as a hybrid clone. Unlike Maalik, she'd had memories already programmed in, like what a spoon was. But memories were different from actually using the utensils for the first time. And learning to walk on adult limbs was something she vowed to never bring up in front of anyone. Ever.

A soft smile spread on her darker lips as she found herself lost in thought. Water was placed in front of her as Maalik made his observation. Green hand nearly knocked it over. Myrtle-ellipses flickered to that smirk on his face. "Whatno!" She gulped, fingers curling around the glass of her drink tightly and taking a sip to stall.

"That's silly," she finally came up for air. "I doubt they'd have any other accommodations to give. As you said, we're at full capacity. It'll be fine," as if assuring herself. And not awkward at all. Oh stars. This meant he'd see the little shorts she slept in. And the tattoos that weren't hidden by the tank top at night....

Palm came up to press against her warm cheek. "Hey," other hand came out to lightly whack against his blue arm. "Why're you smirking like that? Remember. I can't read your emotions but apparently you can read mine. And you've never had fries before?"

She was nudging the focus back on the sly warrior.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"Silly...maybe." He continued to smirk, even as she asked him why. "Though unwarranted...you haven't convinced me." He spoke quietly as he looked towards the cup of mead. It moved as he rotated the cup across the bar top, fluidsloshing about. He opened his eyes wide with a long breath inward, inhaling and exhaling. "Yes. I've had fries before."

He looked back over to Harla. "Prior to my taking on Selvaris. Not too often, but when I traveled. I just enjoy irritating the bartender. He's an easy target and seems to already dislike me."

She was very easy for him to read, though she made little effort to hide her emotions. In a way, he was happy for that. Most times, things felt like work. Or that it required some modicum of effort. This felt different, even if he was busy playing the socially awkward card. Which, in a lot of ways, wasn't pretend at all. He was simply stuck in the twilight between experiencing old things and remembering the memories of those activities from another life.

"So how did your debriefing go? Did you get your wound taken care of?" He instinctively pressed a palm against her ribs, where he recalled the slice of her suit. "Are you in any pain?"

Just then, the order was already being delivered. The bartender gave them a sideways glance as he dropped the plates in front of them and walked off.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

His taking on Selvaris. She frowned. He really hadn't had a choice. But his experiences made him the man he was now. She took closer notice of the scars on his face and neck. Gaze flickered to his arms. It was a miracle anyone could survive the shaping process. Stomach twisted at the thought of those who didn't survive.

"You like pushing other people's buttons," lopsided smile turned into a grimace as his hand went to her side. "Eeeeeah," green fingers quickly curled around his wrist, latching on instinct to ward off any more of a forward press. Even if he loosened up after her initial reaction, she didn't loosen her grip. She was caught between instinct to protect herself and fear of pushing him away.

"It's. Tender," she finally managed. "I won't let it get worse. Can't mess up my reputation as a healer, now can I?" The bacta patch still slapped on beneath her clothing was doing wonders. But it would take a few more days for the bruising to go down.

Slowly, her fingers uncurled from around his wrist and quickly plucked a fry from his plate. "The debriefing," face darkened. "The First Order was too strong and the Alliance wasn't enough. We're in full retreat mode. From Bespin and Hoth. There were significant casualties and many still missing."

She munched on the fry and swallowed. The situation was bleak and frustrating. The empath could feel the echoing moods of discouragement and low morale pulsing across the station. It was hard not to let it affect her own mood.

"If you decide to join the alliance, at least you'll know what you're getting into." It was an uphill battle faced against the seemingly impossible odds of the First Order war machine.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

​His eyes opened wide as she grabbed his wrist, just as he tried to pull away. It wasn't his intent to cause distress or pain, though he was unsure of which it was. Naturally, any apprehension that might have occurred from some violation of social norms simply didn't register with him. After all, who was shy about being touched?

​He could feel the raised edge of the patch as he was finally allowed to pull his hand away, slowly. His expression followed her movement as she pulled a fry from his plate, his own fingers scratching at the center of his palm.

​"It seemed they knew, rather quickly, that we were coming. I suspect there to be a leak in information. No real evidence to speak of...just a hunch." He looked at her plate and mimicking her actions, grabbing the first thing he could find. A pickle. Crunching down on the small slice of vinegar cucumber, his eyes narrowed as he face scrunched up. "You ordered extra of these?!"

​He shook his head, trying to get rid of the sour, as he pulled a fry to his mouth. Caught in a thought, it hung from his mouth as he looked back to Harla. "What do you mean...if? Do you doubt that I will?" He picked up the fork and knife, gripping wooden handles, as he moved to meticulously cut the entire steak into bite sized portions. Sucking the French fry into his mouth, he chewed as he cut. "Have there been any teams established to try and recover those who are still missing?"

​[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

"I agree. At Anoat they had defensive measures up before we even exited hyperspace in the civilian ships. They were expecting something. It seemed like Hoth and Bespin were much of the same." Her frown momentarily erased as he nabbed a pickle. A bubble of laughter escaped her throat. "That's why you should just let me eat the food off your plate and not the other way around."

Fingers reached forward and cradled her nerf-burger, taking a big, healthy bite and munching furiously on it. A quiet-groan of satisfaction left her munching lips even though she tried to keep it hidden. Gabe was the only other person that knew how much she liked to eat. And the frequency!

The healer had a fast metabolism.

Swallowing and quickly pulling a napkin to wipe at her purple lips and green cheeks she turned back to Maalik, knee brushing against his leg as she better turned to face him. "I just....want you to have as much of a choice as possible for joining and know what you might be getting into. I'd hate it if you resented me for it, later." This conversation was serious enough for her to ignore her burger for a moment.

"As for recovery teams. The Alliance followed standard procedure when retreating and grabbed as many as they could." Just like she and Maalik were grabbed at Anoat. "But for the others," voice trailed off. Any others at the station would be dead by now if they weren't picked up since the station exploded. She and Maalik could've easily been those counted as missing - floating forever in the debris cloud in space.

"There's always a short window after a battle to go back in without too much enemy resistance since both sides are focused on search and rescue. I was thinking about volunteering to go back to Hoth. There are transports being prepped for departure first thing tomorrow morning. I wasn't sure if you....were a fan of the cold?"

Again, she didn't want him to resent her for her choices.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"Seems like an uneven exchange to me..." He stated, watching her eat as he lifted a small piece of steak to his mouth. She seemed to be pretty hungry. He wondered if that was standard. His eyes dropped to her leg as she turned, though it didn't register that it was anything more than an artifact of her movement. After all, it was all too common for him to poke and prod.

"Why would I resent you for a choice I make?" He smirked as he lifted another piece of steak to his mouth, not quite looking at her directly. "If it's mine to make, I can't blame anyone else for it. Even if they, invariably, impact my choice." He shrugged, almost indistinguishable from a roll of the shoulder. "Besides, I don't really have anything else currently lined up."

Was he serious? Probably. Did it dictate his current decision? Probably not.

He stopped eating as a thought occurred to him. "There are many things that I endure without ever being a fan. There are many things of which I am a fan that I never get to endure. Life is unfair that way. But if it is required that we assist on Hoth, then so be it. The cold has never bothered me though I have always preferred warmth." He turned to her, setting his fork down. "Though it is a bit soon to be chased around by a gunship...like on Varonat. I assume that wont be on the agenda?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

She swiped another fry with a mischievous glint flashing in the depths of her jungle-green orbs. "Whoever said all exchanges were even?" The healer munched on the stolen fry and swallowed, then turned back to her burger. Half was already gone.

She swallowed, dabbing at her mouth again - keenly aware of how embarrassing it would be if there was a big blob of ketchup on her face as she talked. The funny thing was? Maalik probably wouldn't even care; his smirk would only widen. "I'm glad your social calendar is free."

Her turn for a lopsided grin in his direction before her face grew a bit more thoughtful.

"I don't think so. Simply search and rescue. We're supposed to be in and out. The First Order shouldn't even know we're there."

Of course, that's how her mission should have gone as well.

"But knowing the First Order, I wouldn't be surprised if they fired on the wounded." Green-tattooed face darkened for a moment. "That's why this group is leaving so soon. To prevent a potential massacre or more POWs."

There was always risk involved in missions like these and there was a chance the rescuers could find themselves in the same position as those needing rescuing.

"If you're worried about my injury slowing us down, don't be. I think after a good night's rest the worst of it will be healed. I've always been a fast healer and not sure if it has to do with the giftings of those I was cloned after."

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

He narrowed his eyes, jokingly, as he watched her take another fry. At this point, he'd be lucky to get five before they were polished off. Which seemed to be fine by him. The steak and seafood looking item were tastier anyway.

"Well, the social calendar is free...for now. Who knows what might happen, between now and then." When was then, it seemed like a phrase he might have used prior to his shaping. It felt odd, the sense of familiarity, as social interactions he once considered complex were simplifying before his molten eyes. And even those, in her presence, seemed to lose an air of their intensity.

He nodded as she continued on, him taking pieces of steak with small slivers of fish. "They did seem rather quick to harm even their own members. In truth, the interaction reminded me a good deal of the One Sith and the Legion. Little to no regard for those around them, friend or foe."

He shook his head. "Any concerns I had, regarding your abilities, were removed on Anoat. I doubt that..." He stated, accusing her wound with a steak covered fork. "...could stop you from your purpose. Which is to help others. Which is...admirable." He turned back to his plate, setting the fork down as he grabbed at the cup of mead. "Well, I guess I am worried about your injury...well, maybe concerned. But that has more to do with you and not so much you slowing me down." He narrowed his eyes as he took a sip of mead. "Is that strange?"

He looked over to her, offering her his cup of mead. "It's not very good...did you want to try?" The bartender shot him a look, standing not three meters away.

@Harla [member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

"Yes, the One Sith. I've fought them before. On Kashyyyk. They didn't know what the word 'mercy' meant." She finished off her burger. She couldn't help the shy smile that wove its way onto her mouth at his praise. It was kind and one she felt she didn't quite deserve. No matter how many she managed to help, the First Order seemed to cut down ten more in their place. She felt like a single pebble trying to change the tide of the ocean sometimes.

Did her work even matter?

Heart warmed a little at Maalik's subtle affirmation. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was beginning to realize she felt more than just a little crush for the chiss hybrid. The one who shared his fries.

And how was she to respond to his question?

'It's not strange, you just made my heart melt a bit, though.'

Psssshhhhh.

"No, not strange." Smile turned into something warmer. And before she knew it, one of her hands slipped into his again, fingers softly melting in-between his digits. Sometimes expressions were better conveyed through actions than words. Gaze followed Maalik's to the bartender and a soft snort left the tip of her green nose. Other hand went up between them, warding off the cup.

"No, that's okay. Gabe had me try some at the homestead and it's no exactly my drink. Is that going to be a deal-breaker between us?" A single-chestnut brow lofted, lips twitching at the corners of her mouth.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

He was shaped to hate the Jedi and Sith alike and yet, in the small fraction of time that separated then and now, he had learned to let that go. Sometimes, drifting towards the opposite extreme, having trouble finding any feeling at all. He was shaped to hate those of the Chiss species, bringing to birth some form of self-hatred as he looked at the base boards of a grashal - that had also softened with time. So if he could overcome these issues, he was sure he would have no problem overcoming her dislike of Mead, despite good or bad vintage.

And then he realized, within all the internal musings, that she was joking. Her fingers curling in between his as the cup retracted, him taking another sip of the mead. If Gabe made mead, it meant he couldn't have been too bad of a person. Or, he could be the very worst - based off Maaliks experience with the Vong. Only time would tell. The sort of time that he was happy to spend at a cantina bar, green fingers moving in between his, fingerleaf tree tones staring back at pools of orange.

"Well, I don't know. It depends on the sort of deal that's being made..."

He had a certain interest in where they were going. The issue of Sulon and when they would get there, with Hoth mixed in there to complicate the timeline of arrival. He couldn't break the desire to get her home, despite the fact that he knew the arrangement was far more than a contract now. But, for some reason, he had very little desire to continue that bit of the conversation. They would get there when they got there, it seemed.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

Eyes narrowed slightly. She couldn't tell if he was being literal because he really didn't know or if he was teasing her in turn. She went with the latter. "Oh, you know the deal. Spending time together and getting to know each other more. If you couldn't do that with someone who dislikes your favorite drink, better to get out now, you know?"

A joking sparkle seemed to light up her eyes.

A yawn came out of no where. Free hand went up to rub against her eyes. Now that her stomach was full she was really starting to feel the fatigue in not sleeping for the past two days. She waved to the bartender to get the check put on her account.

"I better get to the refresher before I fall asleep standing in the sonic. Where did you say our....room was?" The refreshers were public - dormitory style for most levels. That wasn't her worry though. They were still going to share a very small and intimate space together. This time, her palm began to get a bit clammy.