So comes snow after fire.

[Atham'aali'kema]

"No no, the spider was..." He stopped, smiling, as he realized he didn't really have the energy for that explanation. He wasn't sure how to navigate it, the matter of a sentient spider hybrid. A thing that felt like it could have been anything yet ended up as nothing, a remnant voice of a faction that was long passed. He wondered if she still existed, with her clutch, tsking with every other syllable. He hoped she did.

The sound of the storm disappeared as they entered the cave, feeling that sudden shift in temperature. In any other environment, this would be the place to seek out the cold. But in the storm on Hoth, the shear loss of wind was enough to consider it warm. It wasn't truly warm, but it felt warmer than him. "Oh you look much nicer than that clawcraft..." He blurted out as she shifted and hopped down. "Where else am I going to go?" He stood up, confused at her comment. He surely wouldn't be going back out into the storm.

Molten eyes had dimmed now, dying suns that lidded beneath the strain of staying awake. Looking down, he squeezed the scarf as he felt the drying of blue blood. Letting out a huff of breath, his brow furrowed as he smiled. "I'd hope I could come down. Hate to be stuck up here." Kicking off his back leg, he came down hard with her help. Letting out a grunt, still clutching the scarf, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulder.

"Did it hurt..." He found a focal point in the stone before him. "When you transferred from one body to the other?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

"Oh, I look much nicer than a ship. Gee, thanks," voice was dry but that worry-tinged smile remained woven on her lips. Legs braced as he dropped. Gloved hand wrapped tightly around his side, careful of the wound. Around the area, she could still feel the slickness of blood. Her smile turned into a frown. Chestnut brows knit in frustration at not being able to help Maalik with the force. While his anomaly helped in battle with the Sith on the station, it was only hurting him now. And her.

Free-hand curled the force around the blankets they left and she brought them closer, take a few supporting steps with Maalik in her grasp. Slowly, she began to lower him down, other hand wrapping around him as if she were hugging a wampa. And big blue wampa. A bit less furry.

"Yes," she whispered against him. "It felt like every cell in my body was on fire being pulled in a different direction." That was the best description she could give. The rest was indescribable. Despite her will and strength, she shivered against him "I guess pain is the price to pay when you inadvertently go against the very nature of the universe."

Arms would slowly unwrap from around him, once he was settled on the ground and she'd kneel in front of him.

"Here. Let's take a look at that gash. We might have to cauterize it. I don't have anything for stitching. Is your um...snake...I mean hydrastaff thing going to bite me?"

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"I am sorry to hear of your pain..." He blinked steadily, looking upwards from the stone as she hovered above. "But...the universe has no nature, no direction. It is utter chaos." He looked down the length of his chest, where the rags of his clothing were frayed open to reveal weeping wound beneath. Setting his head back down on the rock, he tongued the side of his cheek as he found difficulty in getting comfortable.

"She was a really beautiful ship, if that means anything..." He tilted his head as the amphistaff detached from his body, uncoiling from his waist, as it slithered over to the spot where the fire used to be. If he had the energy, he could likely see the infrared energy resonating from the stone, lifting upwards and drafting out into the sea of white. But he simply lacked the desire for curiosity.

"No, you are a friend and it knows that. Because we are bound to one another, it can sense my feelings." He shifted, finding the verdant view before him once more. "Cauterize the wound...the amphistaff will understand."

Pain wasn't a problem for him, though he was far from one who could shirk it away. Ever present now, he was immersed in the weakness of the flesh beneath armored skin.

He did his best to grin and bare it.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

"You may believe that," she spoke quietly, eyeing that, oh yeah, amphistaff, warily. Gentle fingers began to unzip his jacket and went to open it away from his wound. "I believe the force has a will of its own and that perhaps there is a greater pattern beneath the rough stitches of the chaotic events of the universe." Shoulders shrugged.

It was a theological difference that they could each have.

"And you have nothing to be sorry for," a soft smile flickered across a pair of purple lips as she glanced up at his setting suns. "It's not like you caused my transfer." Fingers moved from the top of his chest to begin unbuttoning his shirt. Her smile widened briefly at the ship comment and faltered slightly at the friend comment. Wait. Had she heard him wrong on the station - earlier? Maybe she just missed his tone. Distracting and uncertain thoughts were quickly pushed aside.

"Have to clear the wound site before I can cauterize it," she murmured trying to keep from causing him any further pain. Slowly, she pulled the blood-drenched scarf away, a green hand finding blue fingers for a quick squeeze. Other hand reached in her bag, pulling out a disinfectant cloth. She'd do the best she could before going for her cortosis staff. Cloth gently went over the skin around the open gashes.

"You ready?"

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

Wrinkles formed at the arch of his eyes, molten orbs lidded by the halfway point between confusion and exhaustion. If there was some path, some direction to this universe, then that would give credence to his suffering. To the life that was taken from him and replaced with the thing he was now. Neither Chiss nor Vong, but made instead to suffer. What purpose could such pain have, except to cause more pain? Where was the purpose?

"I, uh, regret your suffering." He stumbled over the words clumsily, uncertain that they were being taken for what he meant. "I am not claiming causality. Simply that I...feel bad about it?" His tone lifted, amidst a quiver in his voice, where he wasn't sure he understood what he was feeling or what he was saying. She was right, he wasn't the one that caused it. What reason could there be for his comment if not indicate some form of empathy, something expressly stripped clean by the Vong shaping? "I wish you didn't have to experience that." His voice lowered into a whisper as she moved to the scarf.

Tilting his head up, dying suns cast a glance towards his torso. Where the full expression of the woolen clothing would over accentuate his torso, it was deflated and torn to tattered cloth. Beneath, dark blue tones of skin grew darker and were inflamed towards the edgings of the cuts. Every breath lifted his abdomen, drawing out mild discomfort that he could feel through the entirety of his torso. Like fire was burrowing into him through open sore, finding a place to rest, and making a home of his chest. With the touch of true fire, he could only assume it would get admittedly worse.

Lowering his head back down, his fingers tightened around her hand. The cavern ceiling offered a subtle distraction, moisture of their breath glistening against the speckles of mica and granite. Laced by veins of gold and brown, the blue stone was darkened by the brilliant white snow storm outside. If he didn't concentrate, which was easy at this point, it almost looked like the stars in the sky - vapor trails and asteroid belts, stationary in the twilight.

"Yes. Please. Go ahead."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

If she wasn't a healer, if she hadn't been exposed to wounds like these and seen even worse. If she hadn't been a veteran of war. She might not have been able to perform what was to come. Still. Her heart ached. And deep down, she knew it would've been easier if she'd been with a stranger instead of Maalik.

Green fingers lingered in blues a moment longer.

"And I wish you didn't have to experience this," voice was barely a whisper. Lips pursed into a thin line. Hand withdrew from his and scooped up the corrosive staff. Sizzling blade of energy flickered to life at the top. Energy settings were adjusted to low.

Steeling herself a moment, she moved it toward the worst of Malik's wounds.

"Here we go."

Blade of fire pressed to open gash. She moved quickly, hands precise and steady like a surgeon. His chest was bare. Shirt and cloth cut away so it wouldn't get melted into his flesh.

"Almost done," she said through a tight mouth.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

He recalled the snow. The way he could sit in it, the way the cold gathered around as he moved his legs out, carving a fan in the white. His eyes were red than, planets of hot rust instead of molten cores, as his attention drifted towards the sky. When the atmosphere was just right and day turned to night, he could see the stars - distant and near. Gleaming in the black sky, vibrating as the light was sent across lightyears. He wanted nothing more than to travel them, exploring and serving in this expedition force. Just like his father.

Opening his eyes, his teeth clenched as he looked back up towards the ceiling of the cave. A stifled grunt escaped pursed lips as the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils. It brought back memories of his time on Selvaris, skin carved out with creatures that had been shaped for cutting. Teeth gnashing, beaks piercing, and the agonizing tug that followed. Wounds exposed to the air, left to sit and heal, as he wondered if infection would take and end him. A quick ending to an otherwise agonizing existence.

His breath labored until he centered himself, slowing his breathing as he forced the air through his chest and not his abdomen. His hand scooted downward, finding the thick woolens of her leg to hold onto. Not in an effort to grip and distract from the pain, but just to remind him that this wasn't the Yuuzhan Vong or his captors. It was Harla and it was for his own good.

"Don't rush." He spoke with a heavy exhale, forcing a smile. "I would hate to have to do this again."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

That grunt of pain of his echoed within her own chest at the sound. She couldn't even afford a quick glance at his face. But it felt like someone was using her heart as a shockboxing bag.

"Me rush?" Somehow she managed to find her voice amidst the concentration of the work and the sudden feeling of his hand on her leg. "I never rush anything important," the bravado she'd tried to muster in her tone faded like a dying note. She hated to be the cause of anyone's pain. But she had to do this. She could do this.

Not being able to feel Maalik through the force was a curse and a blessing for the empath. She couldn't feel his pain nor could she take it away.

A bead of sweat, then another trickled down the side of her green skin. Eyes of jungle green narrowed as the fiery end of her corotsis staff went over the last bit of gash that needed closing. Just as quickly, her thumb deactivated the tool she typically used as a weapon. The cave was filled with a sudden silencing void without the biting hiss of the staff. Hand quickly set it aside and peered over her work.

The bleeding had definitely stopped.

"I'll need to get a snow-pac ready for the swelling," she murmured and hovered close, looking at his abused skin. "You won't have to do this again," green fingers had found his hand, resting gently on top of the one he had on his leg. "As long as you leave the wampa fighting to me." Lips twitched slightly. It was an attempt at humor, an arrow of light in a dark situation.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

He let out a long breath as the lightsaber was extinguished. Gritting his teeth for the remaining pain that trickled through his core, endlessly, his eyes darted towards the woman as he forced a smile. "Is that it? That wasn't so bad." He took in another deep breath as air moved through the cave, strafing across the cauterized wounds. The mild gust sent the wafting tendrils of stream into a nebulous haze, lifting towards the stone ceiling of the cavern.

He recalled the way the teacher slapped his wrists when he was young. It was an archaic item, one that had markings of distance across the side. Though she had many, some made of metal and some made of wood, she had a preference for one made of acrylic that carried a blue glow. But they hurt all the same. They were doing a historical reading of Chiss military exploits, in particular reference to the proliferation of ground breaking technology and the contributions to space warfare.

The maser, for instance, had a significant chapter in the holopad reading. But Maalik had switched over to a diagram of star charts, constellations and planets nested within systems and sectors and galaxies. He liked to imagine himself flying through them, piloting a ship or spreading his arms wide and bouncing between the gravimetric pulls of each celestial body. But it always came to a halt with the slap on the wrist, anchoring him back to worldly pursuits.

His eyes had closed as she spoke of snow-pac, dreading the idea of shifting the temperature so drastically. But more than a fleeting concern over such things, he worried more at the prospect of her fighting a wampa instead of him.

"I...couldn't let you fight the wampa. I haven't gotten you back to Sulon, yet. Back to..." He couldn't recall the mans name, the one she referred to earlier. So his thoughts trailed off as he turned his head turned and he took a deep breath. Life and pain, entwined. "After the snow-pac, can we rest?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

"Oh, so once we get to Sulon THEN you'll let me fight a wampa?" Lips still twitched. He'd lost a lot of blood. She hated to think what would've happened if they hadn't been able to stop the bleeding. Top teeth gnawed gently on the outside of her lower lip.

As her professionalism as a healer faded, she found herself feeling embarrassed by the way his touch affected her emotions. How she began looking for the pair of warm, magma eyes to be turned in her direction. How the rumbling of his voice made her heart ache when it was labored with pain. So in that moment, she found herself being bold, hesitant, and unsure all at once.

Green fingers lifted, slightly numbed by the cold air of the cave. They went to brush dark strands of Maalik's hair off his brow. "You need to be resting now. You scared me." Lips quickly closed. Had she admitted too much? She felt like she was floundering. It was easier to fall back into professional-mode. It was safer too. She had to get that snow-pac. Work on a fire. Get him settled and call her team, if she got a signal through the storm.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"No..." He laughed, immediately regretting it, as he moved to clutch his ribs. But he stopped preemptively, knowing that it would only cause more pain. Setting his head back down on the surface, he restrained a cough that wanted nothing more then to inflict more agony. "But it is a convenient excuse to protect you. Especially from rampaging Wampas."

She moved strands of hair from his face, likely slick from sweat, despite the cold. Taking in a deep breath, his eyes lidded as he caught all manner of expression that painted her face. Confusion, embarrassment, pain, concern, worry. Things that weighed her down, furrowing brow and removing a certain light from her visage. Things that he'd prefer to not catalyze.

"You don't have to worry, Harla..." His hand stretched upward, no reflection of pain showed through molten cores at the movement. Nails moved from chin to cheek, stopping at the tattoos that rested beneath her eyes. He focused on them for a moment, constellations in an otherwise pure verdant sky, before looking back to the pools of endless jade. "I'm not going anywhere."

The wound was, after all, fairly debilitating for the moment.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

She found herself plunging into the depths of his fiery gaze. Searching. Trying to trust in his words. His promise. One he didn't have the right to make. Or he was being his typical literal self.

Lips twitched slightly, face tinged with worry became a little less so. "Okay good. So we're agreed? You're staying put." Fingers brushed through his hair once more and then she slowly withdrew and stood. Scooping up a second blanket, she lay it over his legs, then proceeded to re-light the fire so it was closer where he was.

The tauntauns continued to munch quietly on some frozen roots in the back of the cave. They seemed to be doing okay. Approaching one, she scooped up a comm from the saddle bag and grabbed an empty bag to start a snow-pac.

Finding her gloves, she shoved them back over her green digits. "I'll just be at the entrance. And remember, no moving." She mustered up a stern doctor-to-patient look.
A hand moved to absently rub a spot along her hip where she'd been kicked. Hard to tell any kind of pain mixed in with her stiff legs from riding.

All minor discomforts.

Without lingering, she headed outside to scoop and break up snow and to let the other Alliance members know it was a trap.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

She tried to withdraw from his proximity. But instead she found her momentum halted, his hand having moved from her cheek to the extra wool over her puffed out jacket. Fingers wrapped around, grip forming tightly and curling for leverage.

"I am sorry." That was true and literal and everything the he could do to be honest. "I shouldn't have done that. I put myself at risk and I put you at risk." Burning orange looked for something in her eyes. Perhaps it was affect, perhaps it was trust. Yet, despite the initial burst of strength that prevented her from leaving to tend to other tasks, it was fleeting as the pain returned. "I am sorry that this was a trap. I am sorry that the stranded were lost."

His gaze had wavered, falling to the now gently drifting snows. There was a resolve in there, a sudden realization that he wasn't the perfect creature he was made to be. Perhaps that was the reason for him being discarded, thrown away to the burning world of Selvaris. Or perhaps perfection was an unobtainable thing. "I will try to do better. I promise."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

Surprise flashed across her face when instead of standing up, she found herself being pulled down. The list of things to do vanished as her hands slipped on the blanket, framing Maalik's head. Forearms managed to catch herself against Maalik's shoulders, elbows bent. Worried eyes quickly traveled downward. She was positioned practically resting on top of him, but just his upper body and at an angle.

Enough to barely miss brushing against his singed and closed wounds.

The initial terror of hurting him began to fade from her face. Which was very close to his now. Mere inches away. She felt his grip loosen. Feathered strands of brown hair waved across her brow, tickling and brushing against his fingers, arm, and hand around her jacket. Her trick to keeping things together was to be on the move. Get things done. Take care of people. Won't get tired if you don't sit down. Don't stop. Keep going. Busy hands kept the mind from dwelling on the darker things.

But Maalik's words? His grip, though waning, along her coat? They pierced her facade. She was forced to stop. To feel. And this time his promise was more realistic.

Pain and hurt swirled within eyes of mossy green. Shifting hues of sunlit canopy. For a moment, she let the relative silence linger between them. "I don't blame you," she finally whispered. Those burning orbs of magma made her heart ache. And she found herself embarrassed for feelings that were maybe too soon to have?

"It's me," she blurted as he looked away. "I AM the one failing to protect those around me. There was a battle on Barkesh. The men on the station. Just now," voice trailed off and this time, her eyes turned away, toward the tauntauns.

Somewhere deep down, she knew she couldn't blame herself. But to have Maalik blame himself? That was far worse.

"I don't want to," the embarrassment returned mixed with feelings of failure and...the pain of being involved in an endless war, "lose you." Eyes slowly tracked back to his, unsure of what she'd find. And in that moment, she didn't want any space to be separating them anymore.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

The imprint of his hand was still there, wrapped in thick clothing, even as his grip loosened. Like a mold, perfectly forming to fingers and pressure, forever placed as reminder that he was there. Her confessions were far more profound then his, his being the simple expression of fault at this singular time and place. But it was a habit, one that he needed to control. The ship, the space station, and against the wampa. If he was so calculating and strategic, then why was he so prone to take a risk and incurring damage? The question of why he was the way he was - it was obviously a matter of nurture.

And he had had none.

He blinked steadily as she spoke, taking in her words and her disposition. As if phrases and syllables could have caused such a being to break down, to admit fault where none was needed. Despite the short time frame that he had known her, it was all relative. Weeks or months could span the distance of a lifetime, when the expectation of life was so often removed.

"If you don't want to lose me..." He spoke softly, his breath shallow and controlled as she stood so close. Where his fingers had coiled about her jacket, they now moved to her cheek. Then tracing through brown hair above her ear. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt this way, the need to move and touch without the propellant of curiosity. He simply wanted to. His fingers continued to move, meagerly, until the crested the base of her neck. "Then don't."

He couldn't make that promise, but he could spell intent. And his intent was clear. Just as clear as the pressure against her neck as he used what energy he had left to pull her towards him. To pull her lips towards his and kiss her, moved towards the desire for comfort and closeness. Something that, without her injection into his life, was an entirely alien notion.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

Breath hitched in her throat as he spoke. There was familiarity in his smoldering gaze. Twin suns seeking to pierce through the darkest part of green jungle. She lost sight of the warm sunny hues as her purple lips met with his.

Thoughts of how awkward she felt half sprawled across his chest mostly disappeared as she felt the tickle of his beard along her skin. Thick, brown hair would in turn, tickle along his cheeks and brow. The weird thing was? In hostile territory and in what she considered a harsh and unfamiliar environment, she felt safe with the chiss hybrid. Or maybe that kiss was just powerful enough to temporarily remove her from the environment. Where she only thought about him and the tingling sensation spreading across her lips and the burning in her lungs.

One of the tauntauns gurgled loudly and then went back to eating grass. It was enough to make her remember to breath. To pull back a whisper of a space. There was a soft smile on her lips as her gaze flitted to the murmuring beast.

"I think your clawcraft would be very jealous right now," breath whispered against him, and his lips nearly brushed hers again.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"That would be unfortunate...for the clawcraft." He smiled, his hand moving from the simple weight of it, as his fingers strafed down the skin of her neck. He didn't so much as kiss her again as he nuzzled her, exposed blue gliding across the green of her lips. He caught her breath, the way she had been holding it, and realized that it wasn't so far removed from the way he had felt or acted.

In these more delicate moments, she had learned to pull the air from his lungs. Was that another force power that he wasn't aware of?

Resting the flat of his palm against her throat, feeling the rush of her pulse as it thumped strongly beneath her skin, he kiss her bottom lip before resting back down on the stone floor of the cavern. He knew it was cold but in these moments, it didn't feel like it.

The pain was still there, persistent and aching, but the distraction was welcomed.

"She never did seem the jealous sort..." His speech and mannerisms were changing, he could feel it over such a small measure of time. Between the fall of Selvaris and from when he met Harla, there had been nothing. But between then and now, he felt the semblance of his former life and ways emerge. "But she would have good reason when it comes to you."

He winced as his hand instinctively went for his side. There it was, that pain again.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

His palm trailed along her flesh and it responded. The warm clothes she felt were suddenly too hot. Head dropped for a moment and her face buried against the side of his face as she scooched a bit more to the side. He'd feel her lips smile against his cheek, scars and flesh. The goosebumps on her skin betrayed her.

"She would, hm?"

Greens closed for a moment as she rested against him, allowing herself a second. Just a second. A moment to get lost and to revel in Maalik's warmth and closeness. One hand tucked into her side and the other rested against his shoulder. She...surprised herself.

Eyes fluttered open as he shifted. She caught the wince. Alarm crept across her tattooed face. The healer shifted and went to try and shift free from Maalik's grasp. Tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. "Tsk. Tsk. You do NOT need someone sprawled half across you right now. You need another blanket, the fire going, and that snow-pac."

She wondered how far she'd get this time.

 

[Atham'aali'kema]

"What I need and want I want are currently conflicting, it seems..." He admitted that he wasn't in the best state and despite his desire for something else, he knew that his wounds were freshly cauterized. Made all the more apparent by the sudden spike in pain from a gust of wind, careening through the open cave. Baring his teeth, he let out a long breath through the nose. Quickly thereafter, a chuckle escaped his blue lips.

"I need another blanket, the fire going, and that snow-pac." He repeated, albeit with a lower tone, as his eyes turned towards her. His hand, sandwiched between her and the stone floor, moved to press an index finger against the bottom of her chin. Reaching up, he kissed her one more time, though weakly. "Perhaps we can finish this conversation in the near future?"

"When I am not dealing with the consequences of poor decision making?" He smiled as he drew in breath and pain, simultaneously.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]​

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Atham'aali'kema"]

The healer couldn't help the smallest of smiles curve its way around her lips as his lingered there. That press of his finger on her chin. Head shook and she finally managed to leave his grasp, standing. Fingers ran through tangled strands of chestnut hair almost self-consciously.

"Perhaps," she smiled down at him. "I'm not sure if that time will ever exist though." A gentle tease. Since she'd met him, he certainly had thrown himself into dangerous situations quite often. Off a ship onto another. Off a tauntaun onto a wampa. Who knew what the future would bring?

Pot calling the teakettle though because she was also not one to shy away from dangerous situations, usually running into battle at the cost of herself for another. She'd do it every time.

Reaching down, she pulled the second blanket over and quickly covered his lower half. Then she knelt next to the fire and quickly lit the wood from earlier, getting a pot over the flames for some fresh hot water. "How're you doing? Cold, hot? Hungry or thirsty?" She was careful not to get too close for fear of letting him distract her again.