Painful Afternoon

[Tathra Khaeus]

Matador eyed the Doctor with some shadow of guilt, but it slipped away as his mind drew him elsewhere. His Tol Varen warriors, had fallen. His men, their corpses lay out their strewn about. Or perhaps suffered worse fates. He dared himself to think of it, the men he had trained alongside with that had elected him as leader, he visualised it in his mind. Their torture, eyes gouged out and blood pouring from a thousand cuts. His lower lip curled, some darkness brewing in his stomach as he forced himself to watch, and to study them. Perhaps it was a vision of reality brought to him via his connection to the force, or his numbness to brutality brought to fruititon through his own creativity.

Regardless, it didn't matter. "I came here, in search of fighters. The cartels and crimelords, syndicates came together in their fear of a foreign invader and locked us all in here." He explained, once more looking at the Doctor's small frail visage.

For some oddity, his speech felt rather forced. "They are here for me." With those words came some pride. intertwined with some guilt and knowledge that perhaps the Doctor would be angry with him. However, even though he didn't welcome the idea of conflict outside of that he currently had with the criminals. He felt no need to brace himself for whatever she might do. Afterall, she was just a doctor.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

She knew deep within her she was right to have that warning knot pressing inside of her. His question, if she knew why the cartels had closed off the planet. He had barely spoken to her before but suddenly asked a question, she knew something had to be behind it. Her face had went blank soon after her first answer, there was a seriousness to her that hadn't been so evidently settled in before and even her eyes had developed a shimmering coat of tears because she was blinking less than she was used to.

Pamnis remained silent even after he had confessed that the reason for this disaster was him. A part of her was immediately furious. So many people had been hurt just because of a stupid quarrel between him and the cartels. Now the other part, even if she hadn't been inherently conscious about it, had pick up on whatever remnant of guilt the giant man had and tried to set the idea on her mind that it hadn't been all his fault. He had come looking for warriors, the cartels just gave him violence. It was not like he had been asking for it.

She took a deep breath which she expelled through her nose. One of her hands raising to slightly rub her forehead as she tried to organize the mess her head was at the moment, trying to keep herself from acting on the rush of the moments. If she had, he would have already listened to a very colorful string of curses and terms the great majority of society would define as taboo. Feeling she was failing, she grasped onto her connection with the Force, letting its flow move through her and bringing that familiar sensation that usually helped to calm down.

"So you are telling me this is your fault?" Her voice was utterly monotone. She raised her darkened green eyes to him, and contradicting every harsh and maddened expression her body and face had transmitted, she raised her eyebrows as if questioning him and pulling on the self-controlled she said, "Now I hope you have the strength to pull through it because ironically, you are our only way out of this, sir." If he only knew the effort she was putting in not going berserk on him. Not that she would have been able to do much harm, but how she would've liked to...

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

He listened to her words, he could feel her tilting towards a dark rage within her. Even so he wasn't entirely bothered by it, regardless of what emotions she was feeling their was little she could do to hurt him. Even so, her words following that showed that she had some vestige of hope in her. He felt something, deep inside him like a throbbing pain. A responsibility, to protect her and the people that he had thrust into this position.

"I will exact revenge on those that did me wrong. You can count on that." He didn't speak clearly regarding his thoughts, he didn't want her to think that he perhaps wished to keep them safe. His mind was focused on the folly of his previous actions, he truly intended to wipe out all of the thugs that wouldn't bow down to his will and join Cerberus. That was the choice he'd give them, join or die.

He looked to the Doctor, and then to the saber connected to him at his hip. He wanted blood, but not hers.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

The doctor felt her initial rage subdue, but the flame of anger was still present within her. Not only was she angry at him, she was annoyed at herself...very annoyed. How could she have not realized, not even suspected that if more than thirty men were so intent on killing one he might just have something to do with all of it? He could have mentioned it before, too. It was one thing sheltering a man that had fought to defend himself from the cartel thugs, it was a very different one sheltering the man the cartels were after. But she would be lying to herself if she said she wouldn't have done it anyways.

Pamnis crossed her arms tightly against the upper part of her stomach, all of her frustration on display in her facial features. "You should've mentioned it before..." she spoke a little softer than she usually did, her voice another display of her negative mood. It didn't make any difference now, one couldn't change the past but seeing as how she wouldn't vent on him and the silence was just making it worse, she highlighted that simple fact that had annoyed her a few minutes ago.

Progressively, she grew calmer. She would be no use if the scenario got any worse and she was just a ball of nerves. Her eyes returned to those of the stranger, who seemed just as eager to go fight the mobs as one would've been to go greet a friend. Just as that thought crossed her mind, she felt a deep, dark pull within her and she froze momentarily. Her senses went on high alert as her eyes zoomed in on him. Something bad was about to happen, and she had never felt danger as strong as it was now.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

She responded more gracefully and controlled than he had expected, however she appeared to become fixated; staring deeply at him as her face became wraught with concern. He felt what she felt, that stinging sensation of imminent danger. But it phased him none. He stood still like stone, watching her gaze fixed with fear upon him.

For a moment, he pondered on whether or not the fear was for him and if so, did many look at him that way? Those he faced on the battlefield; he never took the time to look at them when they died. Perhaps many of them shared that same fear of immenent danger, but in those cases he was the danger. The humanity of it, he saw such humanity as a weakness. He should not and would not feel pity for those frozen with fear that fell to his blade. His humanity had the fat trimmed from it, the excess weight of such bothersome thoughts would bother him none. For that was his way, killing was his trade.

"It's not your concern." He responded defensively, walking to the door of her office and spying out the window. He believed the local thugs may be close. But perhaps they were reluctant to attack, they had maybe lost a hundred or more men in the past two days attempting to kill him. It could be that even now their fear of him clouded their judgement.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

"It became my concern, everyone's concern the moment the space ports were closed and the city made into an active battlefield." she answered, keeping that solemn calmness that had preciously reached her as she was dedicating most of her mind power to process everything. She wasn't afraid of him. She had never felt true, real fear for her own life. Of course, it was not like she would take unnecessary risks or deliberately choose not to avoid a source of danger, but all she had was the instinct of self-preservation all living things had. Besides of that, her only true worry was for those around her. All of them. At times like this she wished so badly that her father had taught her how to defend herself, how to protect others. Her heart would be so much lighter if he had.

The hybrid remained silent for a second. This man was unlike any she had ever met before. There were short moments in which he looked more like a machine than a man. So dominant and off-limits to the entire galaxy. Why did a man that managed to fight and defeat so many of the cartels' thugs and mercenaries need more soldiers? She couldn't help but ask herself what plan laid behind all of this.

Finally accumulating the courage to ask, Pamnis spoke in a tone with as much confidence as she could muster, even if she wasn't so hopeful in receiving an answer. "What did you need fighters for?"

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

"What do I, need them for." He corrected her, he still needed them. That made him think, he did still need them. They could, potentially still be his. "That's it." He said to himself, as if in a moment of revelation. His mental clarity allowed his body to release the painful tension it had been holding, for quite some time he had been at a loss; however now he saw what needed to be done.

Senselessly killing ever criminal on Dredd would be the death of him, however if he perhaps defeated their leaders; he could bend them to his will and he would have his soldiers for Cerberus. A plan of action came quickly to mind, however he'd need to still fight his way to them. Pain was still his only direction, and he'd gladly face it head on. As he'd done time and time before he would again.

"What I need warriors for is not truly your concern either, Doctor." He responded, engaged in the conversation now; turning to face her and making a few short movements towards her. Not too close as to seem imposing but rather to ensure her that she had his attention. "You are not a warrior." He remarked, his eyes dancing around her body.

For a short moment, there was a silence as he looked down at her. His eyes shifted once more, back to the door's window. Checking once more for unwanted visitors.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

And here he was, putting her life at risk but refusing to give answers as to why. She frowned slightly, expressing her displeasure at him avoiding every single one of her questions. She could see he was thinking about something, probably a plan to increase his chances in a confrontation that seem to become more and more inevitable as time pressed on. For a minimal moment, she took notice of how fast he was healing, despite the severity of his injuries. He was already almost carrying himself as though nothing had happened. That inkling of her concern for her patient, her as his doctor, dissipating quite quickly when he started advancing towards her.

Right then, she wished she had been just a couple of inches taller. The sheer size of him was more than enough to tower over her and of course that did make her feel slightly uncomfortable. However, she pushed all of that away and made a point of keeping her straight posture as though she weren't afraid to hold her ground as that shimmering light of slight defiance invaded her green eyes. No, she was not a warrior, but she did have a lot of fighting spirit inside of her otherwise harmless bodily composition. And she was willing to prove it even if she didn't look any more threatening than a newborn pup.

"No, I'm not a warrior. I save, not kill." she said, avoiding the fact that she sometimes wished she had been a fighter and that, in the end, warriors could also be saviors.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Again, their was this foolhardy bravery within her. She stood tall and defiant even as he approached, staring right back at his cold mask. She had a lingering expression of irritation on her face, it bothered him none but he did acknowledge it for a brief moment. His mind, linking it to some possible feelings of dissaproval or resentment. Regardless of what it was, it had no real affect of him.

Part of her complexion almost looked feral, ready to attack him at any given moment. Her feeble figure may not have possessed great physical strength however; she had a strength of character that he'd daresay rivalled most trained warriors. Their was a ferocity in her, like his that simply made them better fighters. It was wasted on her, a women who proclaimed herself superior by her ability to save. But fighters saved many too, regardless of the crimes of war committed in an attempt to do such a thing.

The green of her eyes were like a burning emerald flame, bleeding out her strength into her physical form. Perhaps, if she had lived like him she would be like him. Whether he could say the same the other way round was only a guessing man's game. His world and what he knew starkly contrasted to this Doctor's values. Even so, she risked herself to save his skin. "You may not be a warrior, but you have the ferocity of one in your heart." Perhaps she wasn't mean for this life.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

His words caught her by surprise, she hadn't been expecting such kind of praise to come out of the man who at least until know had looked at her as though she was a crazed animal simply because she had chosen a path almost the opposite of the one he walked. Yet both were so incredibly similar in some of their most crucial stretches. The muscles on her back and shoulders relaxed, dissipating the tension that had been holding her rigid posture together in order to adopt a more relaxed one, yet her eyes never wondered away from the iron mask that covered the man's face.

She had never thought of herself as ferocious. Pamnis knew, for a fact, that she didn't have a passive, introverted personality and that she would stand up for others anytime she could, but having it so blatantly said to her by a man who knew nothing but war was very different. Maybe that was the reason why such a strong feeling of impotence arose within her when she was faced with situations in which she had to take a step back, simply because she had the will to resist but not the ability to do so.

No one ever completely knew oneself, least others. And sometimes someone who did not know you that well was a better judge of character than the people that had been around for most of your life. Just as the armored man had seen braveness in her, there were things she saw in him. "We are often more than what we let on and whichever hope I have in you to get us out of this place, I have because I believe you are more than just a barbarous warrior" she replied, honest and calm, the previous fire in her eyes now serene and fluid.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Barbarous Warrior. He had been called many things, but never before that. He supposed, it suited. Regardless it mattered little, words were just that when posed to him in such a manner. Actions mattered, though he supposed she had helped this barbarous warrior. What did that say about her? He pondered on the thought, looking again at her. There was calm in her now, the interraction between them had caused some calm.

His words of promising the defeat of the criminals who had wronged them both had apparently reassured her. His eyes lingered, almost longingly due to his minds confusion. This was all, very new for him.

She made a further statement; claiming she saw things in him. For a moment, he looked at one of his hands. What did she see? He thought, a curious proposal. He was, how he acted. How he fought, no more or less. The Matador presumed she saw what she wished was there, a essence of a greater humanity burning deep within his Beskar shell, the reality was merely embers no doubt.

"Stay still for a moment." He spoke, his mouth moving intune with his deeper senses before his instincts even realized what he felt. A unwanted guests had arrived. He felt six or more individual presences. His force senses were still quite dull due to his injury. He walked over hunched to the window once more, looking out to see eight men carrying various weapons. They spoke in hushed tones, perhaps not wishing to alert them to his presence. He was right, they were afraid. Something close to a grin formed on his face, he turned to the Doctor. "Stay in here." He ordered, his tone as authoritive as he could muster.

The Matador slid the door open ever so lightly, extending his hand outward. The main entrance to the hospital had glass walls on the upper half of the large doors. He observed his opponents, one of them had a thermal detonator attached to his utility belt; with a flick of his fingers he activated the Grenade. The thug looked in shock as his body was pulled backwards and up through the glass. His body exploded, causing the remaining seven to turn their backs to him and face the entrance.

The Matador slid threw silently with no weapons in hand. Only two of the remaining seven were carrying guns. The rest, blunt objects, batons or vibroswords. He crept behind one of them, as the gunmen still stood; rifles held at the spot of their companions combustion. The Matador violently snapped the closest mans neck with his left hand, taking the man's vibrodagger from a sheathe on the criminals back and using the force to throw it across the room, slitting the throat of the closest gunmen and then embedding itself in the head of the second, causing his body to keel over instantly. Only now were the remaining four noticing that the Matador was in the room with them, he could see the sudden terror in their eyes. It fueled him.

The Matador threw the dead man he still held in his arms like a rag doll, knocking down the closest of the four. Two of the three standing rushed at him, while the third ran for one of his fallen companions blasters. The first to attack him, carried a vibroblade, swinging for the Matador's neck. He dodged under the attack, raising his arm to catch the blade on his crushgaunt, then circled the blade with his wrist and let the blade pass under his armpit and grabbed hold of the hilt and his attackers hand. His mass likely doubled the man swinging his sword at him, as his hand clamped down hard on both of his. His second attacker stabbed at him with a spiked metal rod, swinging for his head. The criminal likely thought that, with one arm predisposed; there was no way he couldn't hit him. He was wrong.

The Matador dropped to one knee, swinging around his other attackers vibroblade to clash with the metal rod. With a clear view now, he saw that the third attacker was now lifting his weapon and the fourth had finally returned to his feet. With his left arm free, he activated his lightsaber; cutting the two men clashing with each other in half as he rose to his feet, instantly reflecting a blaster bolt from the third enemy directly into his skull. That left, just one. The last man made a run for the door, but he was much smaller and slower than the Matador was.

He had just made it to the door when the Matador crushed him against the wall, thrusting his wrist into the mans throat so hard that his body was slammed into the wall. The Matador deactivated his saber, placing a his other hand on the man's collarbone.

"The Maiu Cartel, the Resurgents and the Evakand Warriors and the Delvak Crime Syndicate are all working together. Who orchestrated it? Where are their leaders hiding?" The Matador nearly growled, violently crushing the mans collar bone in his hands, turning his bones to rubble.

"Arghghg!" The man let out an inhuman howl of pain, his body twitching in agony as the Matador pressed down harder. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." He cried, the Matador moved slightly and without flinching began to crush him windpipe. "Are you sure?" The man frantically nodded, tears and blood pouring down his face. The Matador pushed a little harder, snapping the bones in his neck like twigs.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

She could see her words elicited some thoughts from him, but otherwise didn't faze him much. It wasn't surprising, he didn't seem like one for too many words. The great axe on his back, the saber on his belt, the armor that covered every inch of his body. Those were the things he understood, the things that had greater meaning to him. And even if that was something her mind could process, breaking it down to its inner meanings was harder to do. She had never been acquainted with anything related to battle, besides what was common knowledge. And even if she did have a protective streak over that she cared for, she had never thought in a similar way to that of a warrior.

But even if her limited knowledge prevented her from understanding the way his mind worked, the feeling that there was another greater meaning to having crossed paths with him lingered inside her. He had really reached her with his previous words, how she had a warrior's fierceness. She could feel how the insecurity within her, the one she had always worked so hard to keep at bay tried to stir itself into consciousness once more, try to retake an active place in her demeanor as it did whenever she wasn't able of keeping it in check.

No one could be so confident all the time, that would've been against human nature. Pamnis stood still when he asked her to, she could see he was trying to pay attention to something else, something important. It all became clearer when she sensed it herself, a group of people approaching the hospital. She felt the adrenaline beginning to pump through her veins as the most basic of her instincts were called into action, the ones that kicked in whenever one felt in danger or that danger was soon to come. Her green eyes locked on his helmet for a second. Pamnis could feel he was eager for this, the fighting. And even if her usual first thoughts would have felt strongly against that, it didn't. It was his nature, natures were much harder to judge than simple actions.

Telling her to stay where she was, the man left. For the first moments she didn't question the authority in his voice, her mind was far to clogged with thoughts to do it even if she had wanted to. She sat down in the gurney, trying to put order inside her head while she sensed him moving away from the office, towards the entrance of the hospital. And one by one the presence of the thugs disappeared. The living Force unbinding itself from their earthly bodies. She took one deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them again as she exhaled.

Standing up, Pamnis walked through the door. She had two reasons for disobeying his command, the first one was that she did not serve any purpose seating idly by on her office and the second one was that she wanted to be near the man as he moved, it was the only way in which she'd be able to keep sensing him, and thus making sure he was as good as a warrior at war could be.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

There were a few moments of silence following the combat, his eyes shifted to the civilians surrounding him. Some had terror in their eyes, others some strange admiration in their eyes. He had a strange feeling, he wasn't use to civilians. Most people he had known were warriors, he grew up around men and women who bathed in the blood of the weak; the horror in their eyes stirred something inside of him. He didn't understand why they were afraid. This kind of fear was alien to him, war was a part of life. They had to understand, that this was always be a part of their world.

As long as a light or dark existed or a competitor held something over the head of their rivals, there would be always be conflict. Until every single man or woman with ambition was dead in the universe, there would be always a form a conflict. This wasn't even conflict at its worst. Yes, it was brutal and vicious however the scale was so small. Entire worlds had been destroyed in the name of conquest, and they quivered in fear at this? It made him hate them. They were weak and ignorant of the reality of the galaxy they lived in. He allowed a single breath to leave his body, looking back at the office door. Now seeing the Doctor standing, looking at him. With some fixation in her eyes, a longing.

It was strange, she wanted to be near him. But, not as a warrior or in a bond of brotherhood. He didn't understand it, it was something unknown to him. A alien feeling burning brightly with her at the source. His visor shifted, focusing on her for a moment. His fists fell into palms, feeling a calmness wash over him as the battle ceased. They shared a brief moment, like brethren greeting each other. However, he was the only warrior here.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

Her eyes remained on the man for those seconds, almost as if there was an understanding between them that neither of them could fully, consciously understand. There was that inkling of doubt inside her, she always had a strong intent of keeping everyone safe. That was the reason why she chose the life she had. But this wasn't just another case of her inherent concern for her patients, it was a different, stronger sort of worry and need to know he was still standing. The doctor noted how different it was to see him on the battlefield, the natural habitat of his own choice and the most adequate of the places in which he could develop the trade he performed so easily and powerfully: battle. The idea would have been enough to uneasy her if offered to switch places with him, even if looking at him gave her some sort of empowering feeling that said being there was just as natural as being anywhere else...at least for him.

Pamnis gave a short, soft nod as if to reassure both him and herself and proceeded to give her attention to another pressing matter. The people that had been close to the battle scene were terrified, they had either ran and concentrated in the farthest corner possible or were standing in shock in the very same places were they had been when it all ensued. She was the only face they could recognize, hers ans some of the nurses and Doctors that had also come down to the main entrance upon hearing the commotion. Pamnis was still the first to make a move and react, while the others' eyes lingered on the corpses that littered the floor not that far away from them. She could bring herself to understand the initial shock. A random, dead body on top of a surgical table was not the same as seeing a freshly killed one.

"Follow me." she was addressing the refugees they had been helping all this while, in a tone just loud enough to be heard but keeping her voice as calm and assuring as she could possibly muster. She started moving towards the back of what they had been calling the main hall. A set of big double doors stood in front of her and the people that had been hurriedly walking behind her. The doors had remained locked from the first moment of her arrival, the Doctor that had lent them the building had told her they led to the basement. He had explained she needed to key in the pass code and then press a pale white button that rested just above the door. She typed the code in and, given her lack of a stature one of the nearby, taller nurses pressed the button effectively unlocking the doors. She pushed them open and people started rushing in as though they were about to enter a completely safe haven. A behavior alike the one they had displayed the day they all entered the hospital seeking refuge from the streets.

The hospital's staff started descending the stairs once that most of the patients had already done so. However, Pamnis made no move to follow them. One of them, a Zeltron young woman turned to her with surprise and concern in her eyes, "Are you not coming, Doctor Hosk?". Pamnis put on a reassuring, small smile on her face of which not even herself could confirm the authenticity and shook her head no. She knew that wouldn't be enough to put her coworker's mind at ease so she added. "If anyone else comes seeking refuge someone must be up here." The Zeltron looked at her with some sort of solemnity and accepting the explanation she gave, closed the door behind her and disappeared down the stairs.

Pamnis took in a short breath, drawing on the strength that tried to stabilize her from the inside. She told herself she had many reasons why she needed to remain in the main floor, and right now she was sensing for one of those reasons. For the time being, she did not sense anyone else in the immediate proximity, but she was sure they had only that much time until more of them came hunting down for him.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Matador refocused, walking out the main entrance of the hospital. He stopped, looking around himself. His head, frantically turning as his eyes analysed ever inch of ground within sight. They were alone, thankfully that would at least give him time to get away from the hospital. Perhaps he could use the Doctor and her patients as bait. He walked back inside, thinking on how he could easily drop the building on a score of thugs if he was able to make them bring a bigger force inside.

But his thoughts stopped as he saw the people hastily push their way over one and other into the depths of a more defendable and hidden area; away from the conflict. Typical, he thought. These Doctors, those who help others. They only make them weaker, these people would die without them. What did that make them? It made them so small.

They weren't worth protecting, everyone within the Tol Varen could fight. They were worth protecting, sometimes he had to remind himself. That was who he was fighting for, every kill had a purpose. Then he saw her, once more standing out from hundreds in this small place. She waited outside, lingering just outside the doorway observing him again. She appeared foolishly infatuated, perhaps his score of bloody violence suited her. Perhaps, she was drawn to his strength in some twisted way.

"You should hide like the rest of them, you weren't made for this." That was his only warning, an objective suggestion was all he could muster.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]

 

[Pamnis Hosk]

It would have been a lie to say she was unaffected by the whole situation. No one who did not have any serious amount of battle experience could keep to one's calmness and demeanor while the thoughts of danger, confrontation and the possibility of death spiraled in the mind. Was she afraid of dying? She would've answer no. Yet that didn't change the fact that the most basic, strongest of instincts was the one that dictated the will to remain alive, it didn't matter if only for ten more minutes. Beings were naturally afraid of whatever represented a risk, some might see it as a fault but the one, big truth still remained: fear was necessary, fight or flight was what kept species alive from times immemorial.

Pamnis thought every near-Human characteristic had an important role to play, as hard to spot as it might be. Maybe she was right, or maybe that feeling was derived from her wish to believe everything has an explanation and purpose, maybe not one she could give or understand but one nonetheless. So, with as much confidence as she could build under this sort of pressure, the doctor did not deny her fear but made a point of acting despite the presence of it. For what was the merit of bravery if it didn't have a fear to oppose?

It was such a puzzle to her, the man. So disapproving of the common people, of the reactions everyone else would have judged as simply normal, certain to take place in the face of such a scenario. She had met her fair share of soldiers, seeing as how his field of work commonly involved injury as a daily occurrence, but never someone similar to the warrior that had crossed paths with her here on Dredd. Maybe it was true, the fact that she felt drawn to him, to help him; though the question as to why seemed to avoid a clear answer, other than the Force-sensed feeling she trusted so much telling her she was doing the right thing.

"Exactly, just like many other people who are still stuck in the middle of this," she answered before expanding on it, "People need help, you might need help. Someone needs to be here if the need arises to help others. That's what the life I chose is about..." The message behind her words indicated that she wouldn't follow his advice, as much as that less bigger, instinctual part of her was begging her to. It wouldn't have been right.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

"I don't need your help." He replied, in almost a growling vicious tone that implied some resentment at their association through his earlier defeat. "It won't happen again." The Matador looked to her, she was as stagnant as he, just as stubborn as he could possibly be.

But, she wasn't wrong. She was a healer, she had a duty to help people. That was her duty, and she was willing to risk her life for it. Perhaps he was right about her, it wasn't just warriors of birth that had a strength within them. He had been moulded from his first day in this life to be a fighter, a survivor and ultimately a protector. His namesake; the Matador. Reminded him of that everyday. But the Doctor didn't have that, yet still retained some bravery.

It was in some ways, commendable. All his life he had lived with soldiers; but he saw some of those traits in a Doctor of all things. It was perplexing, strange. He heaved and sighed, considering her sincerity. He knew that if she came with him, she would likely die and he wouldn't care. "You can't come with me." He spoke, his voice carrying an echo of concern to try to convince her.

[member="Pamnis Hosk"]