An Aur Diamond in the Rough [Kinsey]

[Rune Shamalain]

For a moment a mixture of new emotion surfaced on his face. Surprise coupled with mild confusion - a good sign that he was not aware his appearance had changed at all. Rune quickly looked away, expression shifting into something of bitter disappointment. The cold, untempered realization that this new body, this new life, was lacking a certain amount of self-control he'd prided himself over before was ... unsettling, to say the very least.

And it wasn't helping his emotional state return to center.

"Forgive me," the man replied, "I do not mean to alarm you."

It was people like the one that made Kinsey Starchaser flinch from his gaze that made him so desperately adamant against the call of corruption. How anyone could find pleasure in the fear he saw there was far beyond his ability to understand.

Or maybe not quite as far as he would have liked.

Whatever she said about the hunters was lost during those seconds of selfish introspection and flashbacks to a time of his previous life he wished had never come to pass. Suddenly he found himself far more empathetic to Ereza's plight in regards to the status of his own mother.

There were complications.

She did not return herself.

Rune didn't even feel like himself. Strange how it took a frightened pilot to bring this to light.

"Let me see."

Molten gold returned to Kinsey, shoulders slowly shifting in response to the request. Or was it a command? The woman had quite the way with orders. Half a dozen pieces of shrapnel, ranging in size from needles to small daggers, stuck from the sculpted surface of his chest. Another, deeper, sigh. Frowning, Rune reached up and casually pulled the largest of the pieces from his sternum, biting back a short grunt of pain as it stubbornly resisted. The fresh oozing of blood cause his brows to lift.

"I daresay the other man looks far worse."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Bone-white hair shifted along lean shoulders, long strands breaking up the tapestry of ink. When he looked back, she waved his apology away. It was all she could do. She'd been surprised and reminded of a past she didn't want to be reminded of. Looking at Rune now, she knew she'd been rash to judge.

Eyes rolled at his comment.

Men.

"Here. Just...," hand reached forward as she stepped closer, a very small gap between them now. Fingers enclosed around his hand and around the jagged piece of wood. "Let me before you bleed all over my ship."

HER ship.

Bandages were slightly behind and to her side. He'd be able to reach around her to reach them once the shard was pulled free.

"On three," Blues with layers of lighter and deeper hues flickered up to Rune's. Lips pressed thin and jaw set. "One," then she tugged. Hard. Better for him not to expect it and clench up.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

He relented under the authoritative tone of the pilot, removing his hand from the spear and allowing her to handle the situation. Self-deprecating humor shadowed his face as he braced one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the counter to her side. It wasn't typical for him to be the bloodied mess in his family, though he'd been so on enough occasions. Usually it was his brother or his father returning home battered, bruised, and beaten.

Are you purposefully collecting scars or do you simply always forget to duck, brother?

He wasn't a combatant. Not really. That was Lear. Rune was the assassin - skilled in many means of killing his foes and capable of handling a violent situation should the need arise, but it wasn't he that lusted for the chaotic foray of war. The glory of battle. The heroism of victory. Lear deserved the limelight he brought upon himself. Rune? Rune liked nothing more than to be left alone.

"On three."

He prepared himself, slowly filling his lungs with air -

"One-" shhhck.

A tight wince wrinkled his face, the pain now shooting through his sternum and into those very same lungs quite effectively stole all the air from them. He smirked at Kinsey despite this, lips slowly mouthing the word ow-ch, revealing the peaking tips of fanged teeth now that she was so close.

The man bit back a rumbling groan of pain, brows furrowed. The sensation of warmth dribbling down his chest caused him to look down, spying the blood now freely flowing from a hole that was much deeper than he expected.

"Yes. Well. That - hmm," he seethed over a tense inhale of breath. Rune leaned to grab one of the gauze pads from the counter behind her and used it to mop up the line of red. It continued to bleed but there wasn't much he could do to stem the flow until all the pieces were pulled free. Bundling the saturated gauze in his fist, he leaned the heel of that hand against the counter edge again and braced, turning a gaze of forged gold back down to those merle blues, "five more to go. Do you intend to count for all of them?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

She blinked. She felt the brush of his hair against her shoulder and cheek as he leaned over for those bandages. When that hand went back to the counter it was very close to the curve of her hip. But she wasn't some star-struck teenager. She had a job to do.

Preferably before he bled out.

"Sorry," she exhaled quietly. Hard to say if the apology was for what happened or what was to come. "Nope," she plucked the second largest piece out," depositing it on the counter with the first one. "No," second. "More," third, "counting." Fourth.

"I promise," fifth.

The girl eyed his bleeding chest one final time to make sure nothing was missed. Satisfied, she deposited the last of the shrapnel and tools on the counter. "All done," blood stained her fingertips. His blood.

She frowned.

"Not a stranger to pain, I take it?" Sandy-brows lofted in the man's direction as she took another bandage and pressed it against one of the bigger wounds on his chest, not really thinking about what she was doing. Pibs warbled from the cockpit.

"He should be okay," she called over her shoulder to the concerned droid.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

"We've met a few times before..." the man minced his words through a cringe, eyes wrinkled in pain and knuckles turning white. He was grateful for the quick work but wasn't quite expecting ... that.

He supposed he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Kinsey had shifted between confidence and uncertainty enough that it wouldn't have surprised him if she was squeamish or too uncomfortable to provide medical care. As she worked, presently uneffected by the blood and the wounds, a faint smile slanted his lips.

"Not a stranger to being Hunted?"

It had been a long time since someone else had tended to his wounds. Rune found he appreciated the interaction for what it was - an open willingness to help another, even a stranger.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

"Is it that obvious?" Lopsided grin turned in Rune's direction. One shoulder lifted in a shrug. The other was still too numb from the stun bolt to do anything. She could almost feel a tingling sensation at her fingertips though. Slightly muted.

It was clear being in close quarters with someone didn't bother her. Growing up on colony ships did that.

"Got it?" Chin tipped to the bandage she was pressing against his chest before she began easing up the pressure. While she might be used to not having space and a lack of personal bubbles, she realized not ALL folk were like her.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

The slanted smile remained, heated gaze watching with some small sense of amusement. It was a brave woman who made a life of journeying across the stars on her own, braver yet when she knew the next rest stop could be her last.

Or, perhaps, foolish. Who was to really say and who was he to judge?

Yellow turned down to the indicated bandage, a silent nod given in return. Rune placed his hand overtop her own, allowing her fingers to slide away as he took over the routine of caring for his own wounds.

"Your arm," he said, taking up a bacta patch, "I can help, if you'll allow me."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Rune Shamalain"]

Eyes traveled down to her useless limb and then flickered up to Rune’s sunset gaze. She took a small step back. More to give Rune a bit of breathing space, though it might be perceived as fear.

Kinsey sighed, wiping her bloodied fingertips on a clean rag.

“What did you have in mind? I’d prefer for you not to use any of that wizard stuff on me.”

Ironic, coming from her. Of course it wasn’t because she didn’t believe in the force or didn’t trust it. Although, to be fair, she didn’t trust most folk who could use it. For good reason. But in this case, it was more because she was worried about her own hidden force signature becoming unhidden.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

The space she put between them was noted with a silent glance. Taking the que, perhaps incorrectly, Rune turned from the woman and stepped closer to the counter, giving her further space still.

"You've got me wrong, Miss Kinsey," said the man as he began to dress the rest of his wounds with bacta salve, mopping up blood where it slowly dribbled across pale skin, "I may be many things, but I am no wizard."

Adhesive gauze covered the wounds before he reached for his torn tunic and pulled it slowly back over his shoulders. Rune's brow furrowed slightly as he buttoned the front, "Stun bolts effect various systems of the body, but primarily the nervous system. An exceptionally complicated construct that relays information from every part of the body to the brain and back again. Informs you of pain, pleasure, discomfort ... when undisrupted. Have you ever heard of Haz-rakae?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

"Guess that means I won't have to worry about magic tricks then?" Kinsey grinned at Rune and opened up a sani-cloth. Well. Tried to. A frustrated grunt left her lips when she couldn't quite get the packet ripped open. Sandy-dark hair fell loose from behind one ear, feathering across her face as she glanced back at Rune. Couldn't help the drift of her eyes to the quickly fading view as the shirt was buttoned up.

"Nope. Haven't heard of it. But if you're saying it isn't force magic then I..." Voice trailed off for a moment, seriously considering her next words.

"Trust you. What do you need me to do?"

 

[Rune Shamalain]

Were he expecting to make another public appearance he might've spared some effort to tuck in his shirt. But he didn't supposed Kinsey would mind too much, considering the circumstances and the fact that the shirt was ruined with shrapnel holes already.

Her grin caught a new, faint smirk on his face and he indicated the sani-cloth packet with the sway of an outstretched hand, taking it from her and tearing it open before handing it back.

"I'll need you to remove your jacket and any armor you have on, then sit on the bench there, facing towards the front."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Sheepish smile flashed in Rune's direction as he opened the packet for her. Fingers cleaned off the best they could and she discarded the wipe. Gaze panned down on herself. The jacket had been with her through a chit-ton. It was patched and well worn. There were some stubborn grease stains that wouldn't come out, too. So vastly different from Rune's usual clean-cut appearance.

She nodded along at his instructions.

"Easy enough so far."

One shoulder shrugged off her jacket. Though a bit awkward, it was easy enough to pull off her mostly-dead arm. She slung it on the back of the chair. Next came the vest, which was shrugged off. A cork spanner fell from one of the vest pockets and clattered under a seat.

She waved Rune away from going for it, if he saw it. She'd get it later. Last was the chemise around her neck and she was left only with the dark gray three-quarter sleeve shirt that had a slight v-neck collar. No armor. Lowering herself down, she sat on the bench. Fingers of one hand drummed lightly against her thigh.

"Is this going to hurt?" She glanced over her shoulder, trying to meet his smoldering yellows.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

Perhaps they were getting somewhere. He'd expected some pushback, but it seemed she hadn't lied when speaking the words I trust you. A cause for some relief for him - being feared and untrusted was the very last thing he desired.

"No," Rune took the time she spent dispersing the layers and finding her seat to neatly roll up his sleeves, "tingle, maybe." The man moved to straddle the bench at the side of her bad arm and gently took hold of her wrist, lifting the stunned limb to settle it upon his shoulder so that her elbow joint locked straight.

"Haz-rakae," he began, slowly working the tips of his fingers with firm but gentle pressure along the length of her arm towards her shoulder, following the lines he knew to denote where the major blood vessels ran, "is the Honoghran practice of manipulating the body's vascular, fascial, and nerve channels to produce relief of pain, illness, injury, and malady, as well to create pleasure."

His hands clasped at her elbow, one supporting it and the other pressing thumb along the inside joint where he paused and closed his eyes with a slow release of breath through his nose. After a moment he followed the line of the Brachial Artery up the arm to her shoulder, just above where joint flexes. His other hand moved to her shoulder blade, fingers splaying along the structure, wending and pressing towards her spine.

"The body is very good at recognizing a need to protect itself. It does so naturally, all on its own and will not only mask outlets of pain or discomfort should the brain tell it to, but will compensate for it. There are key points of contact that can be used to read and manipulated the body into releasing, or in this case ... resetting."

Eyes opened once more, the saffron was beginning to fade - already the heat had receeded to something more akin to wheaten gold.

"Let your other arm hang, control your breathing. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly, look straight ahead."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Rune Shamalain"]

"Look who's giving orders now," crooked smile flashed in Rune's direction. Though, it was hard to take her eyes off him. Well. His work. Finally, she turned her head away, beginning to feel the slightest tingling sensation in her arm.

Head and gaze trained forwards, focusing on the cockpit. Pibs' domed head swiveled every now and then to look back at them. Stars and blackness swirled endlessly on the other side of the glass. Fingers finally left their hold on her thigh and moved to fall at her side.

Any hesitation at being close to Rune was clearly gone.

But it was hard for her to relax. She'd never been one to meditate. She tried to breath evenly. Brows lofted, thinking about his comment.

"Pleasure? Honograhns really think of everything, don't they?"

And he'd listed all positive things. Kinsey imagined the touch could be used for offense. Maybe even defense. The girl began to realize that Rune was capable of much more than he seemed at first glance.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

Orders.

The amusement barely surfaced in his expression while his fingers tempered the ridges of Kinsey's spine near her shoulder.

"The Noghri are a deeply cultured people," his fingertips pressed inwards at the points of contact where three branches of nerves split into the shoulder, "most only think of them as Assassins because that is what they are most famously known for. Which is not to say that killing is not the thing that they do best ... inflicting pain, sickness ... bringing the body, mind, and spirit to ruin," Rune slowly gripped Kinsey's shoulder over the top, thumb pressing in on the major artery while his other hand carefully pressed inwards on the nerves.

His eyes closed again as he concentrated.

"but those are the methods of Haz-rakir. What people do not know of them is that they desire peace and prosperity above all. Haz-rakae is what their culture revolves around - the healing of the body, mind, and spirit. Haz-rakir exists only due to the pain and suffering that was first inflicted upon them eons ago as a means to protect themselves ... like the body does."

Then his fingers released one by one; first those at her back from top to bottom, then the thumb at her shoulder. The blood rushed anew, the surge of tingling nerves following it. Pins and needles, all the way from her shoulder to her fingertips.

"Now," he gently picked her arm from his shoulder, "flex your fingers in rhythm with your breathing. Make a fist and squeeze as you inhale, release as you exhale."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

She couldn't help the small shiver down her spine when he spoke of them as assassins. Kinsey knew things were complicated. She of all folk had plenty of her own past sins. And there was something about defending oneself versus open warfare. Versus seeking out violence for the sake of violence. But taking a life was no small thing. Even in defense. And those that made a living doing that. Well. She couldn't judge exactly.

And then the tingling.

A quick, sharp inhale through the tip of her nose. Surprise briefly flickered across her face. She didn't know what she'd been expecting. Maybe not that.

"Maybe I should start calling you Doc." She nodded silently at his instructions. She could feel where his fingers still held her arm. Actually feel his touch. Fingertips twitched and with a breath, she closed her fist. Release. And repeat.

Free hand came up to tuck whispy tangles of hair behind one ear.

"When you're not being whisked across the galaxy to be a shipwright, is that what you do? Are you an assassin?" There was no fear behind her gaze. Not fear of him. She meant it when she said she trusted him. For now. It was more open curiosity.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

To that he did smile.

Doc. A curious nickname indeed and not one he would have chosen for himself. But, he supposed, that was the nature of nicknames. If a name she chose to associate him with was born of his efforts to help, he could accept that.

Rune released her arm as the feeling and strength slowly returned, hailed by the prickling of nerves slowly awakening. Tiny thorns, reminders of something from before. A bit like her question. Brows drew tense over eyes of fading embers. The heat was gone, overcome by the slow return of glacial blue like the steady approach of a storm.

He was silent for a time as thoughts of what he was, now, shifted across his mind, and much like the fire from his sight the smile faded from his lips.

"Not anymore, Miss Kinsey."

A breath, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, "Perhaps next time I will attend to that crick in your neck."

Rising from the bench and stepping aside, Rune moved to pull his jacket back on, "How long have we been in flight?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

She frowned as he turned away. She'd offended him. She wasn't one for skirting around an issue. She'd always been open and blunt. She shook out her arm for good measure, still surprised he'd been able to do what had been done.

The time?

Right.

She had a job to do and now atleast, she'd have an easier time doing it. Kinsey checked the chrono on her wrist. "About an hour." Pibs had transitioned them in hyperspace not too long ago. "Got another four hours until the next stop. Don't worry, should be planet side. I'd suggest you get some rest. Those seats there." Chin tipped behind him. "Fold down into a cot. Should be some pillows and bedding stowed beneath."

Kinsey went to kneel on the plating just beneath the first step to the cockpit. Fingers began to pry open a panel. She'd have to fix that coolant leak before she could get some rest of her own. Living on a ship was funny. There was no sunrise or sunset to tell the time. Everything went by a chrono and universal time.

"And Rune," the girl held up her restore arm, gripping the cork spanner. "Thanks."

 

[Rune Shamalain]

"You're very welcome..." he peered curiously at the plating she'd pulled open, "if I can be of no further assistance ... I will rest, as you say."

But of course he could be of no further assistance. Not unless she needed him to hand her tools, something he very much doubted even he'd be much use at. Rune hadn't the mind for the mechanical.


~~~~

Dressel

If being kept star-bound could be described as a slow death of thirst, than certainly planting his boots on solid ground was the most welcome quench of water. He knew next to nothing of Dressel aside from the name of the planet and the peoples inhabiting it. A temperate place - pleasant, not humid like Honoghr, but just as green. It was within the sphere of the Commenor Alliance and, therefore, prospering.

They'd landed in the starport of a impressively sized city within a respectable amount of traffic. Nothing crowded nor grimey like the shadowport where the Mercenaries had given pursuit. This city had wealth, that much was clear. Wealth and civility, much like what he suspected he would find on Ceto.

Rune stepped off the ship after Kinsey, a clean and fresh shirt neatly tucked beneath vest, beneath jacket. The air was fresh, the port was busy, and not a single Mandalorian helmet made itself known.

"Miss Kinsey-" the man turned on his heel, pausing as he found the pilot busy putting in her order for resupply and fuel, and waited as she finished with the attending droid before pressing on, "when was the last time you ate a full, hot meal?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

The spacer tried not to laugh at the look of relief that passed Rune's face as he set foot on earth-based ground. Travel through the stars certainly wasn't for everyone. With dock permits and fees paid, sharp eyes turned to Rune.

"Rune. Seriously, just call me Kinsey." Arms crossed and lips twitched slightly. A puzzled look quickly eclipsed her feature.

A meal?

"You mean like a ration? Just had one the day I picked you up." Kinsey lived off rations, obviously. And easy snacks. Anything that didn't require a lot of space. Or cooking. Convenience was key. And economy. Every now and then she splurged when she saw a Bobo's Noodle Shack.