Lorrd Help Us All

[Farah]

Lorrd University
Lounge Cafe

“What the hell is this?”

The barista’s eyes widened, unsure of what to say to the irate Zeltron who’d angrily thrust her cup of caf against his chest over the counter. The woman’s face was twisted in irritation, scowl deeper than the fighting pits.

“It’s…what you ordered, ma’am. Large extra dark caf with three shots of turbo boost.” He did his best to remain polite while pointing out exactly what Farah did not want to hear.

Her scowl shifted into a hard stare, the one she used when lecturing interns. Especially when they had given a wrong answer. “There are only two shots of turbo boost in there. Don’t try and cheat me, I can taste the difference.” Her eyes shifted, squinting slightly down at the teenage humanoid as he tried to come up with the words to pacify her. “Make it again.”

Farah usually wasn’t this aggressive when it came to matters outside of her work, but caf was very much a big part of her work. Doctors were never known for their healthy sleep schedules so they wired themselves constantly to stay awake and alert.

The caffeine crash was just starting to hit her, causing her bitterness to become much more visceral. Farah was only spending a week or so on Lorrd, primarily at the world’s university to attend a series of cardiology lectures. Unfortunately, the doctor had just come off of three days with no sleep so she was…not in the best mood.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

It was surprisingly easy to blend in with the mass of students that made up a majority of the University of Lorrd. The mixture of Hapan and Epicanthix heritage meant her features were youthful, dark, and for the most part- flawless. It was an advantage she’d often abused, using her looks to distract, coerce, and entice those she needed something from.

Today was no different, even if the purpose and the disguise itself was. Emerald contacts hid the corruption that had permanently leaked into her eyes, the natural hue long overtaken by crimson and amber. An unassuming jacket, pants, and boots combo ensured her assimilation into the masses passing through the campus, the Master of Ren blending in perfectly with the gaggle of undergrads. A mostly empty knapsack hung from her side, the hilt of a blade hidden deep inside should she find need for a weapon, but she was far from those of whom she called enemy.

A small smirk turned up the corner of her mouth as she entered the small café, eyes instantly moving to a table off to the side, familiar, if only because the day before she had shared a cup of tea and a most intriguing conversation with just such a person. One fingernail ran lightly over the leather strap of her bag as she thought, her head tilted in contemplation while her mind wrapped itself about the strange turn of events that had brought the young Zambrano to the far side of the galaxy in the first place. The line between the black and white of enemy and ally seemed to be bleeding into a most titillating shade of grey.

Those were thoughts to mull over another time, her sights returning to the counter and the small menu above it, wishing once again, that Universities made a habit of catering to tastes that ran stronger than tea and caf.

”Make it again.”

Nearly upon the counter itself when the demand broke through her internal reverie, the Ara arched one eyebrow in surprise, lips curling up in a wide grin with a true tint of enjoyment to it. Familiar tones echoed from the Zeltron already stationed before a rather hassled looking barista, a demand that sounded all too believable from the rather blunt warrior-nurse she remembered.

There was something strange about the sounds, too high-pitched, too fast, too acerbic for the woman she’d encountered before, but it was enough to dismiss those small differences as she came up alongside the young woman. The curve of the jaw, pink of her skin, high-cheekbones and ferocious tenacity in her eyes could not be mistaken.

”A pleasant surprise, to find a familiar face such a ways out from the Outer Rim.”

A teasing laugh underscored Ara’s entrance, a barb that was filled with genuine amusement at such a meeting so far from the Outer Rim Coalition. She couldn’t resist needling the woman for the object of their shared exasperation.

”I assume you finally tired of the antics of Dr. Bantam?”

[member=Farah]

 

[Farah]

A distinctly feminine voice cut through Farah’s internal irritation. Light, controlled and somewhat husky. The playful laugh caused her to turn—well, half turn. The Zeltron didn’t say anything right away and perhaps that was for the better. It her state, she was like an angry bantha that would bite your hand off for the slightest poke. Unlike an angry bantha, Farah retained enough sentience to understand that she was in a public place and that berating this woman for…not really doing anything antagonistic would just leave her exhausted.

It would probably reflect poorly on her as well, but that was secondary to her own comfort.

Instead, she took a good look at the woman before her. Very pretty, sharp feminine features and she seemed to know what to do with them. Thick locks of dark hair complemented her model-esque face. More importantly, Farah did not recognize her. But it was clear that the woman knew who she was which meant…ugh, not again.

“Uh, miss?” The bartista’s tentative voice reached her ears and Farah’s head snapped back towards him at almost light speed. “Your…um, caf.”

He nearly shook as the Zeltron snatched the freshly made up and sipped at it. After a moment she nodded, the boy letting out a sigh of relief.

“I’ve never worked with a Dr. Bantam.” Now slightly more pacified by the taste of a properly made cup, she didn’t sound as irritated as she had before. “What’s his specialty? Is he any good?”

No mention of Joza, no mention of her being the wrong person. Not yet, anyhow.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Eyebrows raised silkily as the Zeltron roughly snatched the beverage from the rather intimidated barista, a tentative sip taken before the boy was dismissed with a simple nod. Amusement ran through Ara as the small nuances- the long look, the rough movements, the obvious irritation- of Joza’s behavior peaked her curiosity. How much had changed since last they’d met?

Words had been exchanged in a hospital deep in the heart of Kal’Shebbol, was it? The Zeltron acting for all the world an angry mother bear who’s cubs were threatened by the wolf in their midst. A small smile tugged up the corner of her lips as she remembered the cool neutrality she’d originally been met with, a polite mask meant to hide the ferocity within. There had been, of course, the wary expectancy of hostility from the other, surprisingly absent as the interaction progressed. In fact, a comfortable truce had been found in a mutual respect and appreciation for the other, an unexpected, yet pleasant result of her time as a guest of the aforementioned Dr. Bantam.

The skin between her eyebrows wrinkled as a frown pulled at her feature momentarily, a surprised glance from the corner of her gaze cast in the direction of the woman who looked for all the world like Joza Perl, but by her own admission, was not.

”A caramel macchiato, if you would be so kind.”

The murmured order was level and polite, a harsh contrast to the demands of the Zeltron from moments before, the Arch-Queen turning to lean against the counter while the poor barista shuffled off to make the requested drink without delay. Artificial emerald eyes cast over her companion, noting the miniscule differences in appearance she would have otherwise dismissed, a tilt of the head sending her dark curls falling over one shoulder.

”I must be mistaken, I apologize. I thought you were someone else.”

A slight duck of the head in apology offered, a simple smile inviting the other woman to share in the confusion, a glimmer of determination hidden behind the opaque contact lenses. No, she was not mistaken, not in this. But the woman beside her was obviously not the Joza she remembered. If that was the case, who was she? A curiosity indeed.

”I would say he is fairly competent, given that he saved my life once when I should have been beyond such. Although, I believe the proper term to describe him would be ‘eccentric’.”

No mention of the attempts made on her life by the same, nor their rather complicated relationship, a simple observation punctuated with a laugh made instead.

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Farah watched silently as the mystery woman ordered her drink. The barista, who looked as if he were bracing himself for another round of abuse, seemed surprised with the polite turn of events.

“It happens a lot.” She murmured, eyes tracking to the barista then back onto the dark haired lady, scrutinizing her for a moment. Another acquaintance of her template, ugh. Were pink skin and red hair really that unique in the galaxy? Farah had never been to Zeltros.

She grunted into her cup, taking a good long drink of what could only be dubbed as ‘caffeine juice’ at this point. It would have been easier just to fill up an IV bag with it. “Sounds like most doctors.” Farah paused, swallowing the caf thickly with a thoughtful look on her face. “I take that back.” She corrected. “Most doctors are not competent. He sounds better.”

Of course, Farah counted herself as exceedingly competent. She didn’t know a doctor that wouldn’t think of themselves that way. Arrogance in the medical field was as widely swept as sleep depravity.

“Who are you?”

It was not an accusation, but a simple question. Farah didn’t like preamble and didn’t have the time to make anyone else around her feel happy. It wasn’t out of any sort of cruelty, but rather she’d never had the time nor the need.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The murmured comment garnered a quick glance from the corner of the Ren’s eyes while she enjoyed the first sip of her drink, the sugar mixing with the bitterness of the caf enough to almost convince the Zambrano that it was a reasonable substitute for something stronger. Almost. As it was, she let the notion of the Zeltron being mistaken for Joza often pass unchallenged, curiosity even further peaked.

A surprised laugh was bit off suddenly as [member="Farah"] commented to Bryce’s competency, her head shaking from side to side softly, curls flying in both directions.

”Perhaps, yet most doctors also fail to make a habit of destroying the hangars of Star Destroyers.”

A tinge of true anger seeped in, although her expression and smile stayed light and easy, the truth only shining in the depths of irises masked by colored lenses. As quickly as it arose, the negative emotion washed away as the question was poised.

[color=light salmon]”Who are you?”[/color]

The curve of her smile turned smug, eyes casting about until they lit on an abandoned booth in a far corner, a slight inclination of her head in its direction preceding the Arch-Queen moving towards it should her companion accept.

”If you would be so kind as to join me? I would be happy to obliged your curiosity is you would do the same.”

The slight rise of an eyebrow in question accompanied her easy slide into one side of the booth, carefully chosen to ensure that she had a full view of the café from her vantage point. For a moment, she paused, wondering how much to divulge. Interest in how much the girl knew, being this close to the Sith Empire, won out.

”I am Ara Zambrano. And you are-?”

 

[Farah]

Destroying the hangars of…what now? Farah blinked. She served as a combat doctor on occasion to the Sith and never had the chance to do anything like that. Passively she wondered if she would ever want to. Combat wasn’t something that really attracted her, not unless it was to subdue a potential subject.

Even then, there were easier ways.

She glanced down to the chrono at her wrist and shrugged.

“Why not.”

There was roughly an hour before her first lecture and as much as Farah went by her own schedule, some things you had to work with. Traumas and acts of God didn’t tend to schedule themselves. Usually she would wave off…well, nearly anyone. She wasn’t exactly antisocial, just focused.

Sliding into the booth, she took a long drag from her caf followed by a slow exhale through her nose. The warm drink was beginning to soothe her irritated nerves. Still, both brows went up in reaction to the name Zambrano.

“Farah.” She gave her own name, pushing that aside for now.

“You’re a Zambrano.” She pointed out, that being her obvious point of interest. The Zeltron felt somewhat uncomfortable using her given last name unless on official Sith Empire business. Typically she went by Dr. Navarro, especially on Coruscant. “Are you a student here, Ara Zambrano?”

[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The reaction to her name did not pass unnoticed, an amused chuckle answering the Zeltron’s statement of the obvious. Nor did a lack of offered surname escape her attention. There was something telling in the fact that the woman recognized her surname, but not her identity, since ascending to the Panathan throne, she was hardly an unknown street-rat anymore.

Taking another sip of her macchiato, she studied her companion over the plastic rim of her cup, interest glittering behind artificially sapphire eyes. A thread of suspicion began to twine around her thoughts, the unlikely combination of events surrounding the woman sitting across from her capturing the Master of Ren’s attention more than one mistaken identity might otherwise warrant. If not for the significance of the Zambrano name to the Zeltron, Ara may have dismissed the situation as exactly that, a chance meeting of an acquaintance’s doppelganger.

For a moment, she let the matter of her lineage pass, instead choosing to answer [member="Farah"] ‘s question first.

”Ara, if you would. No need to be so formal.” Humor glittered in her expression, a private joke that was most likely lost on Farah. ”I am not, I must admit. I was invited to visit a….friend for a few days. I decided to stay and enjoy the lectures the University has been offering, since I hardly had a chance for such a prodigious education.”

No, her education had come from the streets of the Coruscanti underworld, raised on survival, wits, and reflexes. Even now, as acting monarch of Panatha, they were quickly working at bridging the gaps in her background, far too many days spent studying history, politics, etiquette, and much more with [member="Samka Derith"] . The diminutive Overlord a strict tutor and demanding overseer.

Taking another small sip, she tilted her head, polite curiosity replacing the humor from earlier as she inquired after Farah’s own interests.

”You said you have never worked with Dr. Bantam before, am I to take it you are in the medical field of some form? Are you also attending the lectures this week or are you a student yourself?”

 

[Farah]

“I am a surgeon specializing in cardiothoracics and trauma.” Always had to plug the specialties, of course.

Unlike Ara, Farah didn’t have much congeniality to the way she spoke. The Zeltron was direct, blunt and had the sort of harsh look to her that didn’t fade even when she relaxed. It stemmed from time being a commodity to her—even seconds were precious in the surgical field where there wasn’t much room for pleasantries. Not when a life, a project, a trial hung in the balance. That, and she had to develop a certain demeanor being a young female Zeltron surgeon.

Didn’t mean that she had to be a terrible conversationalist, however. Personally, communication without being rude was something she had been working on.

“I’m here to give a lecture in….” Farah paused, taking a long sip of her coffee before finishing. “…an hour. It’s on aortic coarctation, if you’re interested in attending.” There was no snide tone, nothing that insisted that Ara wouldn’t be able to handle it. By all means, the way the young woman held herself gave off the impression that there was very little she couldn’t handle.

Another draw from her cup of caf, this one longer before placing the plastoid container onto the table between them. “You’re a Zambrano,” She stated. “Does your name get recognized often?”

She figured that it would. Farah adopted an alias surname for when she worked outside of Sith Empire space so she could only measure ho much recognition it got within the empire's borders, not out.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

[member="Farah"] was a very different being from her doppelganger, as Ara was discovering. Joza had all politeness, grace, and poise of a dancer with wit and intelligent as sharp as the edge of a blade, something the Master of Ren had intrinsically understood and even admired. It was perhaps one of the many reasons the women had gotten along despite the small matter of finding themselves on opposite sides of the battlefield more than once.

Yet the young Zeltron sitting across from her displayed little of those same mannerisms. Her posture screamed rigidity, a tightly wound energy about her that reflected in her speech, little attempt made to soften her words, pointed and direct as they were. Some might be insulted by the woman’s comportment, turned off by the lack of warmth or sense of connection, the Arch-Queen found it…intriguing.

”I appreciate such a personal invitation, but I am afraid I must decline. My interests tend to run to the more….” A thoughtful tilt of the head and wry smile interrupted her thoughts as she carefully choose her next few words, ”Metaphysical sciences and their practical applications.”

Taking another sip of her beverage, Ara pushed a lone lock of hair away from her face, gently tucking it back behind her ear. The dark edge of a smile creeped up the corner of her mouth as that pointed nature was once again displayed, a rather abrupt question about her name again passing across the Zeltron’s lips, reinforcing Ara’s suspicion that the girl’s interest was far more than idle curiosity.

”You recognized it, well, the surname at least, which should speak for itself.”

A raised eyebrow and tilted brow turned the statement into a silent question of her own, probing as to whether the recognition displayed was of a general or more…personal nature. Consideration was given to stringing the woman along, seeing what bits of information could be wrung from her reactions, and yet, the Master knew that sometimes directness met with the same could be more powerful than the game.

”I am used to being recognized in...far different circles than a University such as this exhibits, although I am sure there are those here who would know my name, at least by reputation.” Another soft chuckle, her thoughts had shifted momentarily to the companion she had travelled such a distance to meet in the first place. Yes, there were those here who would know her name without much thought, even outside of those who studied politics for sport. ”Tell me, what do you know of the Zambrano family, Farah?” The question was asked with an open earnestness, her expression easy and relaxed, truly wondering how much the young Zeltron would be aware of.

 

[Farah]

Farah didn’t mind the rejection. Lectures weren’t her favorite thing, and she wasn’t a big-name physician so the turnout was usually comprised of mandatory attendees and a few overzealous students there of their own free will. “Suit yourself.” She took a long sip from her caf and nearly sighed into the cup.

Nothing like a hot drink to soothe your irritation over almost not getting a hot drink.

Yes, she was the type to throw surgical instruments across the operating theater when she didn’t get her way. But for surgeons, everything had to be their way or people died.

“I work on Bastion sometimes.” Worked, lived, same thing. Farah had a place there in the Zambrano family home but she was hardly ever there, constantly bouncing back and forth between medical centers. “The Zambrano family has a large presence there.” Idly, she gave her cup a swirl as it rested on the table in front of her. Blue eyes swept over Ara’s features once more, trying to see if she could place them to that of her father.

They didn’t seem to share many similarities, not at first glance. Though Farah’s baseline personality different greatly from that of her own template, the two really had a lot more in common than she thought.

“I know that they are a large brood, Epicanthix-mixed by stock and generally serve Kaine Zambrano in one way or another.”

“Are you one of Kaine Zambrano’s children?” He had…many. She’d met some of them on her first trip to Bastion, felt their eyes on her. Some were disapproving, some were curious and some had turned away entirely in disinterest.

It was strange to think that she and Ara could potentially share the same father. Not that they’d be relatives by blood…it was something that crossed her mind on more than one occasion. She had a very large extended family and was biologically related to approximately none of them.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]