Private Unfinished Business

[Na Ri]

Thread Continuation from The Spoils
​

The shuttle lifted before the last of the structure gave way.

Na Ri felt it more than she saw it; the sudden shift beneath her feet, the weightlessness that came for a brief second as the ship broke free from the collapsing world below. The roar outside faded, replaced by the steady, enclosed hum of engines. Whatever was happening to Lianna now… it was already behind them. Inside, the air was different, not clean but at least clearer. Her lungs reacted to this instantly, taking in easier breaths. She turned away as the cough forced its way through her, pressing the cloth to her lips as her shoulders tightened with it. It came in uneven bursts, deeper than before, pulling at something that refused to settle. When it finally eased, her breathing didn’t recover properly. It stayed shallow, measured, like she was forcing each inhale to stay controlled.

She lowered the cloth slowly, didn't look at it. Na Ri moved toward the far side of the shuttle, easing herself down against the wall where the metal could take some of her weight. For a moment, her eyes closed; not fully, just enough to steady the uneven rhythm of her breathing before it slipped again. She opened her eyes. The interior of the shuttle came back into focus slowly, people scattered, movement minimal, the quiet aftermath of survival settling into the space. Her gaze drifted without intent at first, passing over the med crate secured near the center, over the dim lighting, over the stillness that followed something too loud to continue. And then it rested on him, even if only for a brief moment.

Her gaze dropped instead, settling on the cloth still in her hand. Her fingers tightened faintly around it before loosening again, like she was deciding something without wanting to name it. She wasn’t someone who stayed, wasn’t someone who reached back once a moment had passed.

But this… hadn’t passed cleanly.

She pushed herself upright. The motion wasn’t smooth. It took effort, more than she wanted to show, and for a brief second her balance wavered before she steadied herself against the wall. She didn’t rush it, didn’t force it faster than her body allowed. Na Ri made her way rather clumsily towards him, each step as though she was leaving an opportunity for her to turn around. And yet, she pushed forward, the compelling sensation from deep within her taking control again. She stopped a short distance away; not close enough to intrude, not far enough to ignore.

For a second, she said nothing. the hum of the shuttle filled the space between them. “…Your leg,” she said quietly. Her voice was decidedly softer now, restrained in a way that suggested she was choosing her words more carefully than before. “It should be cleaned properly. If you leave it like that… it will get worse.” she added after a moment, her gaze not quite meeting his, instead settling somewhere near the injury she had seen earlier. Just stood there, steady despite the subtle strain in her breathing, offering something simple without pushing it further. A paused followed before she spoke again, “…I can help, if you like...” Her voice trailing.

Prisoner #36929​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Na Ri
Equipment: X​

The Prisoner heard her approach before he saw her. Even with his eyes closed, the specific, ragged cadence of her breathing was unmistakable. He had hoped for a few minutes of silence on the shuttle cot to let his mind go blank and block out the throbbing in his thigh. Instead, she was there, persistent as the cough that plagued her. He didn't move at first, clinging to those last seconds of rest before reality forced its way back in.

"My leg," he repeated flatly after she spoke. "I am aware." He kept his eyes shut, his voice tight with exhaustion. "These Mandalorians are excellent combat medics. I'm sure there will be plenty of help once we reach the cruiser." He wanted to dismiss her, to push away the reminder of everything that had gone wrong in the basement, but her presence was something he couldn't ignore.

He finally let out a long, jagged sigh and forced himself to sit up. The movement sent a fresh wave of heat through his wound, and he couldn't suppress a low groan. He opened his eyes and looked at her, seeing the pale strain on her face. "Fine," he said, gesturing vaguely at the blood-soaked rag he'd tied earlier. "Do it."

He watched her for a moment as she stood there, swaying slightly with the motion of the ship. The irritation he felt was starting to give way to a grim curiosity. "Are you following me now?" he asked, his tone less sharp than before but still guarded. "Or did you just realize you need a medic as badly as I do?"

 

[Na Ri]

Na Ri didn't answer him right away. She stepped closer when he relented, lowering herself carefully beside him. The movement took more effort than it should have, her balance wavering slightly before she steadied herself; but she didn't draw attention to it. Her focus stayed on his leg, on the blood-soaked cloth he had tied there, on something she could fix....something simple. Her fingers paused just for a second before she began to undo the bandage, like she was grounding herself in the motion before committing to it. The fabric peeled away slowly, revealing the burn beneath. The smell lingered faintly in the air; metallic, scorched; but she didn't react to it.

Her breathing did.

Still shallow, still uneven. There was a quiet strain beneath each inhale now, something that hadn't fully settled since they left the surface. She turned her head slightly as a cough threatened, holding it back just long enough to keep her hands steady. It slipped through anyway. She pressed the cloth to her lips for a moment, shoulders tightening faintly as she waited for it to pass. When it did, she exhaled slowly and returned to what she was doing, like nothing had happened. "I'm not following you," she said softly. Her voice wasn't defensive, nor sharp. just tired. She kept her eyes on his injury as she worked, cleaning what she could with careful precision. Her touch was gentle, but not hesitant; there was familiarity in it, a quiet confidence that didn't need to be announced. "I don't tend to follow anyone," she added after a moment.

Her fingers adjusted the new bandage, wrapping it more securely this time, making sure it would hold when he put weight on it again. "…and I don't stay," she continued, quieter now. There was something different in the way she said it this time. Less like a statement, more like something she had repeated to herself enough times that it had become truth. For a moment, the only sound between them was the low hum of the shuttle and the faint, uneven rhythm of her breathing. "You needed help."

Her hands slowed near the end of the bandage, fingers lingering slightly as she secured it in place. There was a brief hesitation there; so small it could have been missed; before she tied it off with quiet certainty. Only then did her gaze lift, not to fully meet his. There was something softer there now. There was something softer there now, something...open...in a way she usually avoided. "As for me…" she started, her voice thinning slightly as her breath caught mid-sentence. Na RI paused slightly before trying again. "…I've needed one for a while." It wasn't said lightly. There was no attempt to soften it, no effort to turn it into something less than what it was. Just a quiet admission that seemed to settle heavier than anything else she had said.

Another cough followed, deeper than before. It pulled through her chest slowly, leaving her breath uneven when it passed. She turned her head, pressing the cloth to her lips, giving herself a moment before continuing. Her hands fell away from his leg, though she didn't move immediately. "…You'll be able to walk on it," she said after a moment, her voice steadier now, even if her breathing wasn't. "…for now." she added in a softer tone. She let that sit between them, the weight of it unspoken but understood. Only then did she shift slightly, like she might pull away...but not quite yet.

Prisoner #36929​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Na Ri
Equipment: X​

The Prisoner's pale face twinged as she peeled back the bloody wrap. The sudden exposure to the air stung the raw burn, but he kept his leg still. He watched her work, his concern shifting between the throbbing in his thigh and the violent way she continued to cough. If she was carrying a contagion, being in this cramped shuttle was the last place he wanted to be. "Seems like you are following me," he muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked its earlier bite.

He hadn't intended to keep the conversation going, but her persistence made silence impossible. He watched her press the stained cloth to her lips again, the sound of her lungs rattling in her chest. "You need to see a doctor," he said, his tone flat. "Someone who can deal with that persistent nuisance of a cough before it finishes you off." He didn't like the way she lingered after she finished securing the new bandage. It felt like she was waiting for something more than a medical update.

The new wrap felt firm and professional. He could tell immediately that he'd be able to put weight on it, which was all he really cared about. He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he said, though the words felt stiff. He shifted on the cot, trying to find a position that didn't ache as much.

"Now, may I rest? Or is there something else you need from me?" He didn't wait for an answer before leaning his head back against the bulkhead.

 

[Na Ri]

His question lingered in the air; short, dismissive, meant to end things there. She should have taken it as it was meant, should have nodded, stepped away, let the distance settle back into place between them. That would have been easier. But, like the idiot that she was, she stayed.

She pushed herself up slowly, steadying against the side of the cot for just a second before her balance caught up with her. The movement cost her more than it should have, but by the time she was upright, her expression had already quieted again. It came deeper this time; low, drawn out, pulling through her chest in a way that left her breath thinner when it passed. She turned her head, pressing the cloth to her lips, waiting it out. When it eased, she lingered there for a moment longer, like she was making sure it wouldn’t come back just as quickly.

Then she lowered her hand.

“You should rest,” she said softly. It wasn’t an answer to his question. Just something she felt needed to be said. Her gaze drifted; not quite to him, not quite away either. Somewhere in between.

“…I wasn’t always moving like this,” she added after a moment, her voice quieter now. “There was a time when I didn’t go anywhere at all.” Na Ri wasn’t sure if she should have opened the can of worms, but for some unknown reason she felt compelled to tell him, whether he wanted to listen or not. “I used to spend more time being looked after than doing anything myself,” she continued, carefully. “So I learned to pay attention to small things…to people.” She paused for a moment, as though weighing whether to end the conversation there.

“I’m sorry about the records…” Na Ri added finally, her gaze now drifted away from him completely and onto the ground between them. “I couldn’t leave someone who needs help regardless of who they are or what they represent.” Of course, the woman didn’t expect him to understand, nor to care even if he did.

Her gaze lifted slightly then, not fully meeting his, but closer than before. “You mentioned where they kept you,” she said, softer now. “That it was… a place people didn’t come back from…” Na Ri didn’t know if she should ask about his experience, didn’t know the right words to even begin formulate a question about it. Instead, she allowed her sentence to hang, hoping that this was enough. Despite the way he was trying to create distance between them, it only made her want to learn more about him.

Prisoner #36929​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Na Ri
Equipment: X​

The wall of the shuttle was cold against the side of his face. He kept his eyes shut, listening to the metallic hum of the ship and the fragile, rattling sound of her lungs. Her sudden honesty made him feel like a right twat for being so standoffish, but he wasn't ready to let her in. Talking about his time in the Citadel was a door he wasn't prepared to open, especially when he didn't even have his own name to latch onto.

Instead of answering her probe about the prison, he chose to deflect. The question felt safer, shifting the weight of the conversation back onto her. "Why?" he asked. His voice was a low rasp, directed more at the durasteel paneling than at the woman behind him. "Why did you not go anywhere at all?"

Curiosity finally overcame his desire for sleep. He shifted slightly, though he still refused to turn and face her. The idea of her being a former captive made a strange kind of sense given her persistence. "Were you imprisoned as well?" he added. The thought hung in the cramped space of the shuttle, bridge-building in a way he hadn't intended.

 

[Na Ri]

Na Ri was quiet for a moment after he spoke. The question didn’t feel sharp like before. It wasn’t meant to push her away; it just… circled something she hadn’t planned on giving shape to.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the cloth in her hand, then loosened again. “No,” she said softly. “I wasn’t imprisoned.”

Her voice stayed even, but there was something quieter beneath it now. Not guarded in the same way as before; just careful, like she was choosing how much of it to let exist outside herself. “…I just wasn’t well,” she continued.

The words were simple, almost too simple for what they carried. “There were long stretches where I couldn’t walk very far,” she added after a moment, her gaze lowering slightly. “Where even getting out of bed felt… like too much.” A faint breath of something that might have been a laugh, if it had made it all the way through. “I wasn’t meant to go anywhere,” she said.

Her eyes drifted briefly, unfocused, like she was seeing something that wasn’t in the shuttle at all.“People came to me instead,” she went on, quieter now. “Healers…caretakers. Anyone who thought they could fix it.” Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric in her hand.

“Most of them couldn’t.”

The hum of the shuttle filled the space between them again, steady and low. “…so I started paying attention instead,” she added, softer. “To how they worked. What helped. What didn’t.” Her gaze lifted slightly, though she still didn’t quite look at him. “It was the only way I could do anything for myself.”

She shifted her weight slightly, steadying herself again against the wall, her breathing still uneven but quieter now. “…it’s different from what you meant,” she said after a moment. “But in a way, I felt like a prisoner…” she didn’t try to relate to him, for she had no idea what he had gone through. Instead, she allowed silence to fall between them again, no longer asking questions. And as though the thought occurred to her suddenly, she would add; “I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves. I’m Na Ri.”

Prisoner #36929​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Na Ri
Equipment: X​

Health was clearly still an issue for her, evidenced by the persistent rattle in her chest. She probably should have stayed holed up somewhere safe instead of venturing into a war zone. Despite his stubbornness, the Prisoner listened as she tried to connect. Being sick wasn't the same as being tortured, but they had both been trapped in their own miserable ways until recently.

"Nice to meet you, Na Ri," he said, the words feeling heavy and hollow. It wasn't actually nice; he might have had a real name to give her if she hadn't intervened. Bitterness flared briefly before he suppressed it. "I don't have a name. Most people just call me boy or prisoner at this point."

A slow, painful movement brought him around to finally face her. He leaned his back against the bulkhead, looking at her pale features in the dim light of the shuttle. Questions he had been holding back finally spilled out. "Why are you here? Why are you following me?" He didn't want her attention or her pity. "I don't want to be seen. I just want to be left alone."

 

[Na Ri]

What he said lingered; not the sharpness of it, not even the way he looked at her now; but that one thing. I don't have a name. It stayed with her longer than anything else. It felt heavier than it should have, like something that didn't quite belong in the open air of conversation.

Her fingers tightened around the cloth in her hand for a moment, before she loosened her grip again, taking the time to find the words to respond. "…Then I'll call you something else," she said quietly. "Not 'boy.' Not 'prisoner.'" She paused for a moment, her gaze lowering slightly before lifting again; still not fully meeting his, but closer than before.

"Something that belongs to you," she added, softer this time. “…if you permit me, that is..” she added, noticing that she would sound imposing otherwise.

"Why are you here? Why are you following me?" He didn't want her attention or her pity. "I don't want to be seen. I just want to be left alone."

His next words came sharper, in the same bluntness that it had before. It seemed they had come full circle; him pushing her away while she wanted to close the distance for reasons even unknown to her. The way he was trying to draw the line between them again was more than apparent, but she wasn’t one to not put up a fight til the end.

"I'm not following you," she said. Her voice stayed calm, even; but there was a quiet firmness to it now. "If I were… I would have said something sooner." Na Ri paused, her gaze drifting slightly to the side, "…I stayed because you didn't leave," she said after a moment. It was far from a perfect answer.

In truth, she didn’t know why she was so persistent; didn’t know why someone who lacked social awareness as he was so…intriguing. There were deeper emotions, deeper thoughts that plagued her as she now searched his face, as though if she looked hard enough she’d find the answers.

"You said you didn't want to be seen," she continued, her voice softer now. "I understand that." Her voice shook with empathy, as she closed her eyes briefly and took in a deep breath. “If you would like me to leave you alone, just tell me…” So was the words of a woman; easily contradicting her true feelings. She half expected him to dismiss her, knowing his personality to an extent now, and she mentally prepared to take her leave.

"I won't stay where I'm not wanted," she said gently, another blatant betrayal of her senses.

Prisoner #36929​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Na Ri
Equipment: X​

"I would have had a name by now if you hadn't stopped me in that records room," he bit back. The irritation was a physical weight, sharper than the throbbing in his leg. He watched her fingers tighten around her cloth and felt a flicker of regret, but the loss of his identity was too fresh to ignore. Every time he looked at her, he saw the flickering screen of the terminal dying before he could find the truth.

Naming him felt like another intrusion he hadn't asked for. He didn't want a label provided by a stranger on a crumbling shuttle. A name was something earned or remembered, and she had effectively ensured the latter was impossible. "I don't need you to call me anything," he muttered, turning his gaze toward the shadows of the cargo hold.

The offer to leave was exactly what he had been pushing for, yet the silence that followed her words felt strangely heavy. He knew he was being difficult.

"Then go," he said, his voice flat and indifferent. He didn't look at her as he spoke, choosing instead to focus on the steady vibration of the shuttle's deck. "I told you what I wanted. I want to be left alone." He leaned his head back against the cold metal, closing his eyes to signal the end of the conversation. If she was looking for a reason to stay, he wasn't going to give her one.