Two Roads Diverged in a Wood

[Bethany Kismet]

M O N A S T E R Y

There could not be a stranger pair walking through the porcelain white hallways of Sanctuary.

Jedi Master Bethany Kismet and Commander [member="Malok"] of Ape X ambled along as a sedate pace, their conversation light but animated. Dressed in her usual simple style, the diminutive woman was positively dwarfed by the grizzled and battle hardened Ma'alkerrite.

The last few weeks had seen the white walls rise. Floors laid. Doors secured. Every detail had been laid out by the dark haired woman, but she had easily given responsibility for these tasks into the hands of others, offering trust and an interdependence that she hoped would be fostered in the whole community in the years to come. No one person could do what they were managing here- and she wanted them all to know just how much everyone was needed- how much each was appreciated. The continued presence of Malok and his band had been truly a blessing of the Force, and they often walked and talked together on one subject or another.

"He did not threaten to skin her!?" She covered her mouth with her hands, stifling laughter. They had been trading stories for most of the morning, most of them humorous, at least in hindsight. "You need to have a talk with that one," she chuckled. "Did he at least apologize? You're lucky she agreed to help you at all after that."

 

[Darth Metus]

What had begun as a spontaneous act of charity had blossomed into something priceless. Over the course of ApeX's stay on Monastery, the unit had grown quite considerably. This was not, of course, in terms of number or military might - but rather as people. For decades, many of them had known only the mercenary's lifestyle...but they had all hailed from vastly different lives. Mal'kerr was home - a place of beauty and agriculture. Mal'kerr was a memory, but Monastery was its successor. ApeX's members found themselves reminded of what it felt like to put down the blaster and to pick up the pickaxe, shovel, or hoe.

As for their Commander, he had found something of immense value himself. A friend. When time allowed, he and [member="Bethany Kismet"] would take leisurely strolls about the growing sanctuary - conversating about the future or light topics. On this day, the topics had been mostly stories worth sharing a laugh over.

"He did! And he didn't say a damn thing either afterward." came Malok's reply. "I'm lucky Irajah had a spine and a heart, else I'd be six feet under."

He snorted, seeing the Jedi stifle her laughter.

"But that's Striok on a good day. You should see him on bad days. Like, at the First Order's ball, he had a hunkering something fierce for a slab of white meat. Some Harrison fellow." The mental image of Striok harrassing the poor man caused a loud "ha!" to escape him. "I've never seen a man so red in my life!"

[member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Bethany Kismet]

"I mean, I can imagine being flustered in his situation," she said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Especially with this in mind, I am very impressed by his behavior here on Sanctuary. So far as I know, he hasn't threatened or harassed anyone. Except that saber cat. 'Here kitty kitty-' She did as passable an impression of Stroik as a small human female could probably manage.

Still laughing, the pair paused outside of the infirmary. Bethany paused, her face going serious.

"You know," she said, "Just because I have work to do doesn't mean our conversation has to end here."

Tilting her head slightly to look up at [member="Malok"], she smiled softly.

"Have you ever considered learning healing techniques?"

He had never brought up his force sensitivity to her. And she had never asked, never pried. But from the tone of her voice it was clear that she wasn't asking him if he were capable of such things- but if he were interested in them.

"After all.... it sounds like you won't always have a sassy little doctor on your side. Might come in handy."

 

[Darth Metus]

Malok screeched.

His laugh was high-pitched and ugly as sin. Her impression had caught him offguard to the point where he literally stopped walking, doubled over, and held up a hand for her to wait.

"Oh...O-Oh...Gods above, that's rich. Oh I wish I had recorded that!" he said through peals of laughter. It took a moment to pull himself together, including the wiping of tears from his eyes, but when he did he was at her side once again.

"Healing techniques?" For the second time in less than ten minutes, the Jedi had caught Malok offguard. In truth, he had not placed much thought into his Force-centric education; electing to let [member="Darth Prazutis"] take the reins entirely. Yet...Bethany made a good point. Malok wouldn't always have a fiery doctor to keep him alive.

"I'd be a fool to pass this chance up. Lead on." he said, nodding.

And deep down, something...flinched at the thought of touching the Light.

 

[Bethany Kismet]

She actually felt that flinch, but it didn't surprise her. She had some idea of what he was- at least, when he wasn't on Monastery. She had never made an issue of it, however, and didn't intend to start doing so now. Instead, she simply offered another path. If he wanted to try.

"Good," she said with a smile.

Stepping into the infirmary, Bethany checked in with the duty nurse. Unlike a regular hospital, the Order had more Force healers than actual doctors. But that was hardly a draw back. It did however, change the feeling of the room. Rather than being clinical and cold, the infirmary here was as welcoming as they could make it (while still doing their jobs). The nurse smiled up at Bethany from the front desk, only momentarily casting an odd look in [member="Malok"]'s direction.

"Sora came back in, Master-" The nurse paused, correcting, "Bethany. He was wondering if you had the time to-"

She nodded, smiling a bit ruefully. "Of course I do. The usual spot?"

Bethany led Malok through the infirmary, speaking softly as they walked.

"Sora was one of the first refugees to show up here. Even before we finished building. He never said where he was from, or what happened to him, but he immediately took on the garden as something of his own," she smirked slightly. Everyone knew how Beth was with the gardens. "But, he's old, and his body has been through a lot. He had injuries that never healed properly, which have led to arthritis in most of his joints. We can help relieve the pain, and slowly work to heal what never did, but with his age and.... well, other factors..... it's a slow process and one that he likely won't see the end of in his lifetime."

 

[Darth Metus]

The Infirmary did not feel like an Infirmary.

If Malok had to put a word to it, warm was how he would describe it. Although there was still medical equipment and patients, there was a glow to the space that he had not anticipated. It was more than the paint on the walls for that matter. The Ma'alkerrite's lips twitched ever so slightly, betraying a half-smile after a moment (even despite the receptionist's look). This was par-for-the-course he'd come to learn. [member="Bethany Kismet"] had that way about her: a gift for making things feel...like a Sanctuary. Ha.

As she led him deeper into the place of healing, Malok nodded along with her words. The patient, Sora, plucked at some old memories. Malok recalled a pair of ancient hands attempting in vain to form a pot from clay..."Sora is lucky to have you lot here." he began. "Some can never feel relief for their pain, no matter what medications are fed to them. Even the slightest relief is an immense blessing."

Sora was lucky to have even a few moments rest from his pain.

Aurash, Malok's sire, was not so lucky.

[member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Bethany Kismet]

Bethany only nodded, not answering him. Sora was waiting for them not a few steps away now, after all. The elderly Ithorian sat on one of the cots, shoulders hunched and great hammerhead bowed. But he looked up, dark eyes crinkling at the edges when he saw the pair approaching.

"I'm glad you came in today Sora," Bethany greeted him with a smile. "I can introduce you to Malok. He's going to be helping me today. What's bothering you the most?"

Sora made a wheezing chuffing sound that she knew was laughter.

"As if you need help Ms. Kismet," he wheezed out. "Pleasure to meet you Malok. And you could just poke around and find that out for yourself, but I appreciate that you ask first. Knees today, I'm afraid."

"Well, if you'd stop moving the things I planted, you wouldn't have so much work to do, Sora."

"If you planted them correctly the first time, I wouldn't have to move them."

"Well, I apologize. After all, not all of us can be Ithorian."

There was genuine affection between the two, clear beneath the friendly banter. Sora chuckled.

"You could have fooled me, Ms. Kismet. Could have fooled me."

Obviously accustomed to the drill, Sora shifted, pulling his legs up onto the cot and laying back. Bethany stepped up, indicating that Malok should move around to the other side.

"Have you ever followed someone in the Force before Malok?"

​[member="Malok"]