Read My Mind, The Foreigner, Infirmary

[Shay Marin]

Shay had a great deal of respect for members of the medical profession specifically, as well as for any healer in general. As an individual who was far more adept at taking life than preserving it, she was grateful sentients with such talents existed in the galaxy to even out the balance. As a Jedi, she believed those who dedicated their lives and learning to curing the ills of others to be as close to the Light Side of the Force as a non-Force Sensitive could ever hope to get.

That being said, one thing she did not appreciate about doctors was their tendency to think they always knew best. This made them exceedingly difficult people to reason with, to say nothing of arguing with. The fact she had to debate with one of their number while she was decidedly not at her best only made her frustration all the more acute. "Doctor, I assure you, I will be fine," the Jedi Master insisted in as commanding a manner as she was capable of for approximately the fifteenth time today.

The look Doctor Hal Tanis shot the blonde woman under his shaggy gray brows was nothing less than disbelieving. Nor did he seem particularly impressed by the Dolomarian's leadership qualities; he was far too stubborn and set in his ways for that. "Sure you will, young lady. That's why two of my orderlies had to lift you onto the biobed, since you were incapable of crawling up there yourself."

Feeling her jaw set tensely, Master Marin forced down her growing sense of irritation with the situation. He's only trying to help you, remember that sister. Normally such emotions would not trouble her in the slightest, but this was far from a normal day. She was bruised, battered and bloodied, with all her strength having suddenly left her upon the return to the Foreigner several hours after the battle. Her Force energies were drained along with her life force and motive power, leaving her trembling in exhaustion at the slightest physical efforts. The occasional blurring of her vision and the vicious headache that spiked at random intervals added still more obstacles for her near-boundless patience to overcome.

"Allow me to amend my statement then," the Sentinel resumed in a calm tone with just the slightest of sharp edges. "I will be fine if you refrain from pumping me full of your chemicals. Jedi heal far better when left to their own devices than when they are forced into a narcotic coma by well-meaning but mistaken physicians." From the dignity with which she carried herself at present, you could almost forget she was lying prone in a dark blue medical gown, far from being in any position to effectively defend herself at present.

[Mac Cheydin]

The bridge of the Foreigner was quiet, the crew focusing on their assigned tasks, or if they’d done them, trying not to fidget too much. Mac fell into the latter category, sitting in the assigned captains chair, a position he’d come upon accidentally more than on purpose. Director Loran and his tendency to drag people into places they didn’t want to be, something that Mac found himself a victim of more than he’d like. It irked him, but he had no choice but to do his best in the position. His tactics, far from traditional, probably amused Loran. That was why he was there, for amusement. The sick bastard probably thrived off placing his subordinates into funny situations.

Mac scowled into the air, finding his current career in the Alliance both bizarre and ridiculous. He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten onto the current path he was traversing. It was like someone was mocking him, but he wasn’t exactly sure who. He was imagining things, most likely. Leaning forward, his chin resting on his palm as he rested his elbow on his knee, he let out a sigh, half strangled by an attempt to keep it in. Wouldn’t do to let those under his command see him moaning and groaning about something they should be used to by now.

The bad thing with having close to nothing to do other than stare at the stark lines of hyperspace was the thoughts that plagued him in any moment of staying inactive, as they had been doing ever since he’d seen the Jedi transport shuttles descend into the atmosphere of Korriban and land on the unwelcoming planet. He’d heard no word of the Jedi and he hadn’t expected to hear anything. They might’ve been allied with the Alliance, but some captain of a ship wasn’t exactly entitled to hear anything about the Jedi.

A feeling in his gut nagged at him, beleaguered him with thoughts he’d rather not dwell on. He’d had a bad feeling about the whole situation, annoyed that the Alliance would not be stepping foot on the planet alongside the Jedi and the Mandalorians, not that he’d been able to do it in the first place, but he could’ve tried to convince Loran that he was a better asset on the ground than playing tag with the small amount of vessels getting off the planet. His fingers tightened around the armrest of the chair he was sitting in, his jaw clenching tightly as his scowl deepened.

“Sir.” His head rose from its position, his clenched hand relaxing as he was faced with something to distract him with. Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow and nodded for the man to continue whatever he’d been going to say. "There has been a disturbance in the infirmary. Someone told me you’d be interested?" He seemed confused by the message that he’d delivered, unable to piece together the clues that Mac himself found no problem with deciphering.

He shot up from the chair so quickly the officer almost leapt back in alarm, as well as attracting the rest of the crew’s attention. Feeling the stares filled with wonderment of those around him, he gave no explanation as he charged off the bridge, breaking out into a full run when he was out of it. The trip didn’t take long, considering his speed and the urgency with which he moved, none were inclined to stand in his way and would rather give up their turbolift than try to beat him to it.

When he arrived, he paused outside, knowing that he probably looked nothing like the commanding officer of the vessel. He, in an uncharacteristic move, made an attempt to calm himself, hindering his mind from running wild. It wouldn’t do to jump to conclusions, making an assumption would only cause him undue stress. Losing his head wasn’t the way to go. One hand gripping the visor of his peaked cap, he raised it enough to run a hand through his hair, giving anyone looking at him a reproving stare. Then he entered the infirmary, appearing as a calm individual rather than the manic one that threatened to surface. He felt like clawing at the walls out of frustration, but instead gave the nurse a slight nod, before he traversed down the line of assorted medical equipment and patients.

He heard voices, both familiar, but one more so than the other. His pace sped up, and he finally came into view of the scene. Shay, looking hurt, wounded, and countless other words for looking in general bad shape, reclined on a medical cot, doctor hovering over her. His muscled tensed and he felt his jaw clenching again, something very close to rage bubbling up. He quenched it quickly, instead stalking up to the infirmary bed, he fixed a look at the doctor, trying not to snap.

“Doctor, leave her alone,” the words, despite his roaring emotions beneath the facade, were neutral, almost quiet. The doctor looked up, seeing him standing at the foot of the bed. Dr. Tanis began to speak, general information about the patients health and etcetera. Mac didn’t hear a word of it until the doctor decided to voice his view on how to treat the patient.

“Leave!” He barked before the doctor could say more. The tone could be likened to that of a feared drill sergeant facing a group of soldiers, a command that was undoubtedly there to be followed, not ignored. The doctor, taking the wise path, made himself scarce. Mac, when the doctor was gone, took a few steps towards the infirmary bed, pausing before he fully reached it, looking as if he was confused by the sight. His mannerism melted from his previous one of command into something resembling more the body language of a caged beast. The emotions flitted over his face one after the other, coming and going so quickly it was almost impossible to discern them. It was clear he was at a loss for what to do, faced with a situation so foreign.

[Shay Marin]

“Doctor, leave her alone,”

It was a sign of just how hard Shay was concentrating on appearing as unaffected as possible by her current medical conditiom that she did not sense the approach of her lover until just before he entered her line of vision. As soon as her amber eyes refocused upon him, the full brunt of the tummultuous storm of emotion brewing inside the Corellian blasted against the battered bulwark of her psychic shielding. The Jedi Master's own heart bottomed out in sympathetic response to the man's frantic state.

Frack it all... I didn't want him to see me like this. The present situtation was something neither her Jedi training or her years of experience in undercover work had prepared her for. While this was far from the first time someone who cared about her had seen her hurt, with Mac it was... well, it was just plain different. The way his worry pained her was different than how she responded to the concern of anyone else. Her attachment to the former smuggler was unique in the scope of Shay's lifetime.

With the attachment had come an increasing sensitivity to every inflection of the man's moods, of which there were many and varied. It reminded her of her Force bond with Lysander, save that reception was strictly one-way; Mac had no natural talent for reading her mind, and Shay had been reluctant to potentially disturb him by broadcasting her emotions. Sure, it would alleviate any doubts he might have ever entertained as to the sincerity of her feelings, but those who weren't born empaths didn't often take well to thinking another's thoughts.

Master Marin continued to gaze up at him from her prone position on the biobed, the doctor's spiel of diagnosis making only the most absent impression on her unconscious mind. After all, Shay had heard it all before--at considerable length--when she'd first been carried into the medical bay. The particulars about bone recalcification, electrolite imbalances, and axonal potential drainage weren't terribly important. What truly mattered in the end was the fact she was stuck here confined to bed rest until she recovered, lest her current symptoms become permanent.

Unlike most people she knew, the Sentinel didn't make a lousy patient. She had no problem with the concept of needing to take it easy for a while. Her non-existent ego couldn't be bruised by the admission she wasn't 100% at her best right now. What she did have a problem with was Dr. Tanis' proposal to knock her out with drugs and stick her in a bacta tank for the next few days, allegedly to 'speed her recovery'. Not only was such treatment wholly unnecessary, but wasteful of precious resources as well.

“Leave!”

Apparently attempting to reason with the good doctor was the wrong tactic to take, Shay mused to herself ruefully. A faint smile played over her pale features as the Dolomarian watched the crotchety old man make a hasty exit from the premises. "My hero," came the amused murmur from the medical cot, the Investigator's irrepressible sense of humor tickled by the sight. Sometimes the non-Jedi approach was best it seemed, or at the very least far more direct.

Shay's momentary mirth was snuffed out quick as a candleflame in the vacuum of space once she turned her attention back to Mac. Every hint of sentiment playing out over his expression was reflected by her empathic senses. One of the potential pitfalls of being a naturally talented telepath was the difficulty of turning the emotional output of others 'off' when you were in a vulnerable state. What he felt, she felt with him, a reality which made his upset state all the harder to bear.

"Mac..." The Jedi Master forced her hand not to shake as she reached out towards him, frustrated by the fact it took so much effort to perform such a simple task. If they were to be closer, he'd have to be the one to do the closing. "Don't look at me like that," she stated softly in an attempt to soothe. "I'll be fine, love." The same words she had used earlier in argument were now given as reassurance. Shay yearned to say more, but all the words at her command were inadequate for the message she wanted to convey. All she wanted at this very moment was to get that lost and wounded cast out of his eyes. Hurting him, even in such an inadvertant manner, was absolutely intolerable to her.

[Mac Cheydin]

"Mac..."

As Shay called his name, he snapped back to reality, focusing on the medcenter cot before him and the woman who lay on it. Making an attempt at calming himself, a tremendous effort on his part as he was feeling anything other than calm, he looked away for a few moments, his gaze fixing on the wall separator between Shay and the rest of the bustling medcenter. When it returned, he seemed somewhat calmer, but still seemed vaguely under his former emotions’ influence. Regarding her hand with something close to fear, it almost looked like he was going to bolt at that moment, run from the emotions he was feeling, as he had done so many times before. One would think he’d learned that it would be useless, it had been established when they’d taken the first tentative steps forward with whatever they were doing.

He stilled for a few moments, frozen in place, before something seemed to collapse within his turmoil filled mind and he took a hesitant step forward. This step was then followed up with a sufficient number of steps to bring him right by Shay’s cot, where he then fell on one knee to kneel next to it, the lack of any sort of seating arrangement forcing him to if he was to be at her eye level. He stilled for a moment, merely staring at her, the same hurt look in his eyes with other emotions shimmering faintly in the background.

"Don't look at me like that,"

Responding, he looked away, wondering how he could contain the emotions he felt. He wasn’t a Jedi, and he had a manner of showing every emotion on his face when among people he trusted unquestionably, contrary to other times. It was also difficult to stifle the raging emotions because of his nature. He fiercely wanted to track down and kill whomever had brought this upon her and him. The idea of what this meant, what it represented, made a cold shiver go through his spine despite the fact that the Foreigner wasn’t cold at all. To lose it all and then come close to losing it all again, it was unbearable.

Turning his gaze back to her, he shuffled slightly closer, finding himself wanting to get closer to her even if he knew it wasn’t possible in the state she was in. She needed rest, so she could regain her strength and heal herself, that was, as far as Mac knew, usually what Jedi did when wounded. It made him almost feel guilty for coming down to seek her out, knowing that he was disturbing her by being there than he would be doing sitting in his chair on the bridge worrying. The latter option was one that didn’t bode well for his sanity, but he thought it was a small price to pay if Shay needed peace.

"I'll be fine, love."

At her words, he found the wall he was trying to construct crack under pressure and he rested his forehead on what was closest to him, this being Shay’s upper thigh, out of fear of what would happen. Such moments were rare and had only happened twice before, he’d found himself fearing ever going through the series of emotions again and had sworn to never get into such a situation, but he had. He’d learned to fear it more than he probably should’ve, the wave of unwanted emotions being difficult for one such as he to hold back.

A shudder passed through his body, a slight muffled sound escaping his lips before he clenched shut and quieted the sob that had made an attempt at escaping. His right arm was brought up to rest next to Shay’s form, lying still as his left arm came up to half embrace Shay’s legs, finding the closeness comforting in its simplicity. Another shudder wracked his body, this time the sob went unchecked, the tears beginning to fall down his cheeks as he clenched his eyes shut.

[Shay Marin]

Today, Shay had been seared, pummeled, sliced, psychically drained, mentally assaulted, and electrocuted. Through all the punishment she'd endured, she had never been made helpless, never felt fragile. The same could not be said of now. Were she capable of standing at present, the mere sight of Mac crying would have brought her to her knees. Nothing could compare with the pain that came from seeing the man she loved sobbing and knowing she had brought him to this state, however unintentionally.

For the love of the Force, Mac was crying! Never had she ever contemplated such an eventuality. The man was highly emotional, yes, but even his fiercest rages could be kept under some semblance of control. Michael Anther Cheydin was not a man who cracked, or faltered, or in any other way showed weakness if he could possibly help it. Yet here he was, completely letting go of any semblance of calm, weeping against her leg. Weeping for her. No one in the galaxy had ever done that before, and it simply floored her.

As a Jedi, Shay did not fear her own death. The concept of becoming one with the Force someday was certainly not anything she wanted to rush towards, but neither was it something she sought to avoid at all costs. Growing up around those who followed the same philosophy she did, she'd never conceived of someone else being frightened about her death for her. Only now did she realize what a severe oversight on her part this had been.

"Hey... don't..." Master Marin's voice, rough with emotion, quickly choked itself into silence. Instinctively she moved her hand to Mac's hair, stroking her fingers through the dark strands in a motion that was as much about comforting herself as comforting him. Her other hand moved to take a position on the man's upper back, the best effort she could make at the moment to increase the physical contact between them. She wanted to do more, wanted to bodily drag him up onto the cot with her and hold him tight, propriety be damned!

Force, she loved him, so much so that it physically hurt right now. It was during this moment out of time that she realized the idea of his death frightened her as much as the concept of her own terrified him. The very thought of their present positions being reversed caused tears to well up in her own eyes. Shay could count down to the very day and hour the last time she had cried, and the sensation had been so long absent from her life that she actually worried for a moment her vision was growing worse when everything suddenly got blurry.

Damn! This wasn't helping. The longer her emotions harmonized with his, the greater her self-control crumbled. It was the same effect that had gotten her into trouble with him all the way back on Tatooine, but not nearly so pleasant an experience. Unlike back then, however, Shay had no real will to fight what was happening. There was no need to hide her feelings from him, though she did wish she wasn't adding further onto his own burden of sentiment.

Shay's palm began to rub along the line of the former smuggler's broad shoulders, even as the first tear slipped down her pale cheek. ::Mac...:: Not only were her internal barriers breaking down, but so were her external ones. Her telepathic nature 'slipped' inadvertantly, momentarily transmitting her own emotions in reflection of his own. Catching herself, she did her best to refortify her mind against any further 'leakage'. "I'm still here, larel," she whispered, the greatest volume she could command out of her voice at the moment. "I'm not going to leave you."

[Mac Cheydin]

Mac, for the first time in years, let loose emotions that had only lived in the dark recesses of his mind even when he’d been painfully reminded of the cause of it that time so long ago back on Taanab. The act in itself was a painful one for him; he was not one to lose control, despised to show the perceived weaknesses that were these emotions. It felt like every fiber of his being shook with what seemed to be physical pain, but there was in reality no manner of medicine that could quench it. It was merely a matter of riding the wave of emotion out, a fact which Mac had never liked. The loss of control was frustrating, more so when he was a man who preferred to keep emotions in check and himself under control.

At something he viewed as an amazing feat of self-control, helped by the soothing motion of Shay’s hand on his head, he reined in his outward reactions, stilling the sobbing so that he was rid of the bodily jerks that prevented him from uttering any words that made sense. Not that he would be able to speak anyway, because he was always something close to speechless in situations where he didn’t know entirely what to do. For one who rarely was startled out of his stride, he really could be clueless when met with anything that didn’t involve material things. Emotion was a thing he’d hidden when he’d discovered the mangled body of his daughter.

::Mac...::

The calling of his name startled him; his body grew rigid under the unfamiliar sensation. It was an oddly foreign feeling to a quite familiar name and he was quick to understand that it hadn’t been spoken. It was the first time he was aware of Shay doing this; whatever she was doing he didn’t know. Not possessing the same power she did, he wasn’t aware if this had happened previously to this time, him being unaware of the significant difference between a spoken word and a thought. Accompanying this word was a wash of emotions that were familiar to him, he was feeling them himself, but he could distinctly recognise that they weren’t his. He blinked in slight confusion, hesitantly straightening his back and fixing his eyes on Shay’s. Immediately he noted the tears that streaked her face. This brought a fresh bout of emotion, sending more tears down his own cheeks in a silent sadness as he resisted the emotions. He averted his eyes from hers, squeezing them shut as he tried to still the flow.

They sat in relative peace, although lacking any final privacy, in the middle of the Foreigner’s medcenter. A thought in the back of his head told him to pull himself together. He was the commander of these people and had to go forth as an example, but this thought was ignored in favour for the woman sitting in front of him. Appearances be damned, they could think whatever they wished to think.

"I'm still here, larel,"

In one quick motion he reacted to her words, rising from his kneeling position, settling on the edge of the bed and reaching out with his arms. He settled a kiss on Shay’s lips, one that remained gentle despite the desperate emotions that raged behind it and collected her in his arms for a frantic embrace, clutching her to his chest as if he was afraid she was going to evaporate and disappear.

[Shay Marin]

For a second Shay wondered if she'd somehow imparted the desire be held and hold him in turn during her brief bout of broadcasting earlier. In the next moment, she decided it didn't matter as she returned his kiss with tender lips. The only fact that mattered was that he was here with her right now. All other considerations wound up of secondary importance in comparison. As much as she regretted upsetting him this way, she was glad for the evidence of how deeply his emotions for her ran. It further reinforced her belief that she'd done the right thing by choosing to be with him, by bringing her feelings out into the light for all to see.

A small sigh of contentment slipped out between quiet sniffles as she was pulled against his chest. The warmth of his body soaked into her skin through the thin cloth of the medical gown she'd been forced to don earlier. Really, Shay would never understand why every medical facility in the civilized galaxy required their patients to wear clothing that never quite fit properly. It was like some interstellar conspiracy to embarrass the sick and injured, the reasoning for which was entirely beyond her. Even the Force didn't seem to understand why this was so.

Shay looped her arms about her lover's shoulders and held him back as tightly as she could manage in her weakened state. Her muscles protested the sudden movements they were being subjected to, but the Jedi Master repressed their complaints with an effort of will. Any amount of physical discomfort was worth being close to her beloved. Frack, even having to be dunked in the bacta tank like Dr. Tanis had threatened would be worth this. It was clear they both needed comfort right now, of the sort only they could provide to eachother.

Pressing her tear-dampened cheek against his, Shay drew in a deep breath rich with the scent of him. "I'm glad you're here," she murmured into his ear, as utterly sincere as she always was when in private with him. While she hadn't wanted him to witness her suffering or injured, his presence soothed her mind and spirit. While weeping was the last activity either one of them had wanted to engage in, their shared emotional distress undoubtedly drew them closer as a result. Not how she would have wished for them to bond, to be certain, but life had never shown any interest in being easy for either of them.

Closing her eyes against another flood of tears, Master Marin made herself focus on the sensation of being in Mac's arms, grounding herself in the here and now as opposed to the what-might-be. Regardless of what the future could eventually hold for the two of them, they were both alive and together in the here and now. That was what they needed to focus on, not their fears. One of her hands resumed its stroking motions through the former smuggler's hair. The simple motion brought her a sublime pleasure that was difficult to describe, a pleasure she hadn't thought possible for her to experience before the events of the past two years.

Shay never would have envisioned before she met him that a man like Mac would eventually assume such amazing significance in her life. She was glad she had not known ahead of time what would commence between them, as her Jedi training would have dictated she avoid him all together as a result. Thank the Force for its discretion! No, in this case, she was grateful for having been caught completely unawares. "I'll be alright, Mac. We'll be alright."

[Mac Cheydin]

The amount of comfort a simple embrace could bring was overwhelming for one who didn’t indulge in those sorts of things. Mac had known such a feeling with familiarity once upon a time, but as the years had passed his recognition of it faded to be eventually forgotten. Even in his long time of being intimate with Shay, he’d held something back in a sense and just now realised that the feeling was one he missed from his old life. The recent events, as maddening they had been to Mac and his sensitive emotional balance, had given him newfound realisations to what his current relationship with Shay really meant to him. It appeared he had been too thick to realise it beforehand, to see her weak and wounded to the degree she was now had rattled him.

He found himself steadily coming down from the emotional high he’d been going through, becoming distinctly calmer and returning more to his usual manner. His control had returned, his tears ceasing as he embraced Shay and merely enjoyed their intimate moment for the time being. The things happening around them were only noted in the back of his mind and he had little desire to turn any of his attention away from the woman in his arms. For a brief moment he wondered how their display was being met, had anyone seen it at all, in their somewhat secluded corner of the mecenter? No doubt Doc Tanis had cancelled any actions relating to getting Shay into a bacta tank, meaning that no one had business around them. Oddly enough, he found himself indifferent to any opinions anyone would have relating to this.

"I'm glad you're here,"

Drawing a shaky breath, he silently returned the sentiment, one of his hands rubbing her upper back as their cheeks pressed together. It was peculiar how his time with Shay had changed him so drastically from how he’d been when he’d first met her. This would’ve been something he couldn’t have imagined back then; it would be unfathomable merely because he was still denying himself the simple pleasures of life because of his gross negligence as far as protecting his family went. He’d had it all just to lose it all and then proceed to refuse himself the experience of having it all again. His wife was dead because he hadn’t acted, his daughter was dead because he was absent, and he laid the blame solely on himself.

Shay, somehow, made the blame less of a weight to carry. Living was easier, but approaching the subject, even alluding to it, still brought those old feelings up and he once again denied himself any enjoyment in social interaction. But at this moment, he’d come close to experiencing it all over again and he found himself unable to withdraw as he usually did. Shay Marin has been the earthquake to weaken the walls of his mind and then the final push to make them crumble.

"I'll be alright, Mac. We'll be alright."

With a large degree of reluctance, he withdrew halfway from their embrace. His face still held an expression of mild sadness and his eyes still holding proof of the tears he’d shed but no longer. Settling a small kiss on her forehead, pressing his lips to her warm skin, he brought his hand up to caress her cheek. In circling motion, his thumb wiped away the tears evident, as he drew his head back to look at her. He gradually became more aware of the things around him, knowing that he still had a duty to perform.

His mind turned to more practical pursuits, his concern for her welfare giving birth to the need to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. “Do you want more peace to rest?” As far as he understood it, the less distractions the easier it was for Jedi to centre themselves, he hoped this meant the healing process would go with more speed for Shay. His logic could’ve been flawed, as he was not aware of the subtle nuances of the Force. It would be better if he moved her to his own quarters, making sure that doctor Tanis wouldn’t try anything when Mac was absent as well as giving him more peace of mind concerning her status. He was still on duty and had a bridge to keep an eye on, meaning that hovering over her wasn’t an option for him, no doubt she’d be better off if he wasn’t anyway.

[Shay Marin]

The motions of Mac's thumb wiping her tears away brought a gentle smile to Shay's lips. Despite all his protestations of being a 'mean old man', he can be awfully sweet at times. Not that she was about to point this out to him at the moment and risk embarrassing or flustering him in the process. Their situation was emotionally charged enough as it was without her adding further considerations or opinions. Besides, if she made a point of his sentimental behavior, he might withdraw back into his more normal patterns and mannerisms. No... for the moment, she was content to enjoy the tender gesture without comment.

Besides, surely no words were necessary between them by now. He knew how she felt, had sensed exactly what she felt due to her earlier lapse. While she wished her control had not faltered so blatantly, Shay did not feel uncomfortable at the knowledge she had exposed some of her inner workings to him. She trusted him implicitly, something Master Marin could not say about most beings of her acquaintance--including most of her fellow Jedi. If anyone was to have the privilege of seeing her mind, she could think of no one more deserving than the former smuggler.

The Force definitely works in mysterious ways. Never would the Sentinel have guessed two years ago that this unlikely pairing would be exactly what she needed. Any traces of loneliness and isolation from the greater galaxy Shay had felt over the years had always been deeply buried and rationalized away by the Investigator. Never would she have sought out such a relationship on her own. Instead, the omniscient metaphysical busybody she served had caused her course to return to the same man's orbit time and time again. Others might write those events off as sheer coincidences, but Shay knew full well there were no such things as coincidences.

“Do you want more peace to rest?”

"I doubt I'm going to get much of that here," she replied wryly, unconsciously echoing the path Mac's own thoughts had taken. The good doctor didn't strike her as the type of man who gave up easily. Admittedly, this was excellent trait for a physician to possess in general, if a rather inconvenient one for her in this specific situation. While medical ethics precluded the possibility that Dr. Tanis would force her into the bacta tank against her will, there was nothing stopping him from continuing to argue his point of view. Shay would bet real credits on the fact that the crotchety old man normally had great success in overcoming the resistance of recalcitrant patients through sheer perseverance.

Of course, he'd never tried to nag a Jedi Master into submission before, so he didn't know how impossible a task he'd set for himself. While she doubtless would be able to withstand his rhetoric indefinitely, that didn't mean she should willingly sign up to be subjected to more of it. The sooner she left the infirmary, the less verbal sparring she'd have to do. "If you could spring me out of here, I'd be eternally grateful, love."

A trace of true irritation flashed in her amber eyes then, a rare display for her. "I'd also like my lightsabers back. He stashed them in a storage locker on the other side of the medbay, along with all my other things. Said it was 'standard procedure'." Obviously Shay didn't approve of said procedure in the slightest, especially when it came to her being relieved of her personal weapons. You just didn't take a Jedi's lightsabers away, under any circumstances. Few things were more in violation of her essence. One might as well remove a bird's ability to fly, or take away from Loran the ability to keep secrets.

[Mac Cheydin]

"I doubt I'm going to get much of that here,"

Mac let a small smile play across his features at her words, finding himself relaxing as he continuously reassured himself that Shay wasn’t severely harmed. His momentary lapse of control had been brief but revealing, to both himself and her, he believed. With a newfound understanding and more of a reign on the situation he was sure his confusion would be easier solved in the future. Her manner proved to him that all she needed was some rest and time alone to ‘recharge’, or whatever Jedi did with that Force of theirs. The idea was simple to understand, even if the doctor didn’t seem to realise it.

"If you could spring me out of here, I'd be eternally grateful, love."

Leaning forward once again, he kissed her lightly, unable to resist the urge now that he’d fended off the burgeoning clouds. “Of course, larel,” he responded, his voice quiet as he promised her the peace and quiet she required. It would be simple enough to get her out of the infirmary. If doctor Tanis had anything to say about it Mac wasn’t inclined to listen, the doctor might think he knew best, but in this situation he hardly did. Jedi rarely received medical attention, so no doubt that wasn’t given much attention at whichever medical school the old man had attended.

“Said it was 'standard procedure'."

He nodded, disengaging himself from their embrace completely, aiming to relocate her quickly. It was hardly a matter to dawdle over, the quicker they got this done the less they’d have to talk to Tanis, most likely. Rising from his perch on the edge of her infirmary cot, he rounded the fabric separator between her and the next patient and continued down the room towards the spot Shay had directed him to. Finding the storage locker quickly, he opened it and proceeded to pick out her possessions. He recognised which were hers, thanks to his long acquaintance with her, and stored them all a bag he found lying around. It was tattered and worn and found it unlikely anyone would miss it. Slinging it over his shoulder, he quickly returned to Shay’s area of the medbay.

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered, throwing a glance down the hall as if he was checking if the coast was clear. “Can you walk or should I carry you?” Growing distracted for a moment as he saw Tanis prowling towards them, occasionally stopping to look at some patient, he shook his head slightly. He shook his head slightly, deciding to take action before she could answer. He put one arm under her knees and used the other to support her upper body. Lifting her easily up from the bed, treating her with more caution than he’d done previously in the times he’d carried her. The aim of this was also more chivalric than the previous times.

He shot her a slight grin, as he was wont to do from time to time, and proceeded to transport her gently towards his goal. As Mac left the infirmary, he caught the expression on Tanis’ face as they departed; knowing that if the doctor had been in the position to argue, he’d done so. Then he settled into a quick but calm pace that didn’t jostle his cargo around, knowing that the two of them looked quite the sight. For the second time that day, he found he didn’t much mind what others thought.

“I’m placing you in my quarters,” he clarified. “You’ll be left alone there, apart from Sam, Tysk and Owen, but I can take them with me to the bridge if you don’t want to be bothered by them.”

[Shay Marin]

“Of course, larel,”

At the touch of his mouth upon hers, the smile on her lips widened another degree. She returned the kiss in kind, even as gentle fingertips began to wipe away the last lingering traces of Mac's own tears. The affectionate gesture was a sign the emotional storm Mac had experienced was passing, leaving him more settled and calm in its wake. Shay had heard it often said that a bout of crying often brought a sense of peace afterwards, but she had experienced tears so rarely in her adult life that she hadn't been able to confirm or deny that theory before. Her lover's behavior was the most solid piece of evidence she'd collected on the subject thus far.

"Thank you." The simply spoken words meant far more than just a sense of momentary gratitude on her part. She wasn't only thanking him for agreeing to spirit her out of the clutches of annoyingly persistent doctors, but for his full and entire presence in her life. Language was inadequate to express how meaningful their relationship was to her, and so she was forced to rely upon the most basic of phrases to convey an infinitely more complex meaning. Shay found this limitation mildly frustrating, but she would rather operate within conventional limits of communication rather than disturb him again with another unvarnished glimpse of her emotional state.

“Let’s get out of here. Can you walk or should I carry you?”

Master Marin took a few seconds to seriously consider her answer to the former smuggler's question. A quick evaluation of her physical condition led the Sentinel to conclude she was theoretically capable of walking her way out of the infirmary, though the effort would no doubt wear her out in her current state. While the Jedi Master's innate sense of dignity would prefer it if she traveled under her own power, the pragmatic tendencies of her nature inclined her towards accepting Mac's assistance instead. Shay had no desire to risk making her current symptoms permanent, after all. Nor was the Jedi Master at all threatened by the concept of having to admit she was 'weak' at the moment.

Before the Sentinel had the proper chance to respond to Mac's question, the Alliance Major elected to take the situation into his own hands--literally as well as figuratively. This caused Shay a degree of amusement, provoking a soft chuckle from her as she was lifted off the medical cot. One of her arms moved to rest across Mac's shoulders in an instinctive response, both to provide her further stability during the 'ride' as well as to increase the degree of physical contact between them. That small amount of selfishness on her part produced no guilt from the Investigator's conscience, surprisingly enough. Outside perspectives might be concerned about her lack of same, but the Dolomarian saw it as as a sign of her own growing peace with her place in the universe at large.

Catching sight of the grin on Mac's face, Shay returned the expression in kind. "I appreciate you not slinging me over your shoulder this time," she commented in a lighthearted tone, acknowledging the extra care her lover was taking with her at present in a backhanded way. Tanis' disgruntled expression stood in stark contrast to Mac's personal satisfaction, and Shay had to repress the exceedingly childish urge to stick her tongue out at the crotchety old doctor as she was carried out of the medical bay. Anything resembling gloating was surely beneath a Jedi Master, no matter how amusing it might be in context.

Mac was not the only one unconcerned about the perceptions of others at the moment. Yes, the sight of a Jedi Master being carried by a member of the Alliance was without a doubt an unusual one, an event that would doubtless provoke no shortage of speculation on the part of Major Cheydin's subordinates. The Sentinel acknowledged the range of potential opinions from the rebels towards her association with one of their own, while at the same time dismissing the same as unimportant. She wasn't in an intimate relationship for the approval of others.

Then there was the reaction of Shay's own subordinates to consider. As enlightened as Jedi might be compared to the average denizen of the galaxy, the Order had its own version of the rumor mill. When the Investigator had informed her peers on the Council about her choice to pursue a romantic relationship with Mac, the primary reaction of the other Masters had been an urging of caution and discretion on her part. While they held trust in Shay's ability to balance the demands of love and duty in proper fashion, some of them had been concerned open demonstration of sentiment on her part would project the wrong message towards the younger and less experienced of their number.

The logic of her fellows was undeniable. As a leader of the Order, Shay had a responsibility to provide an example for others to follow. That said, her own 'eccentric' set of beliefs made her doubt the mere sight of a Councilwoman sharing physical contact with another human being would somehow 'corrupt' her fellow Jedi. Even those who would protest the most--Nathaniel, for example--would have to acknowledge the prudence of Shay accepting assistance in the context of her current medical condition.

“I’m placing you in my quarters. You’ll be left alone there, apart from Sam, Tysk and Owen, but I can take them with me to the bridge if you don’t want to be bothered by them.”

"They've never bothered me," the Dolomarian hastened to assure her lover. Her initial avoidance of the vornskrs had been more out of an interest of preventing suspicion rather than a personal aversion on her part. "And since they've accepted me as part of the 'pack', I don't bother them either." Shay had never blamed Mac's pets for their initial reactions to her. Their species had evolved to hunt other creatures based on their presence in the Force, and her own 'bright' signature couldn't help but draw their predatory attentions at first. Now that they'd spent sufficient time around the Jedi Master to become used to her 'feel', they no longer reacted negatively to her presence.

[Mac Cheydin]

"I appreciate you not slinging me over your shoulder this time,"

Mac laughed, a sound that only since meeting Shay had once again started to sound honest and pleasant. The usual mockery he turned towards others had been distinctly absent, although few had been around who could acknowledge that change, considering his jump from criminal to the Alliance. They most likely merely thought he’d warmed up to them, a cute thought in itself. Mac tolerated and remained civil with those around him, but no ‘warming up’ would happen until they proved they deserved it.

“Can’t jostle precious cargo about like that, something all smugglers learn,” he said with a slight smirk.

“I don't bother them either."

“Good,” he said with a smile. He’d always brushed off the vornskr’s reactions towards Shay, or ‘Brin Trell’ as she’d been then, as an inclination she was Force sensitive, not that she actually knew how to use it. He was glad they’d gotten used to her, considering what they were trained for, he knew it wasn’t likely they’d turn on her if any sort of situation came when he’d have to use said training. He hadn’t even told Shay about it and he found it unlikely he’d ever have to. He wasn’t inclined to freely give up the information anyway, such a low point in life was one to be forgotten.

Making his way through the ship, towards the living quarters on the Foreigner, they didn’t pass many of the crew. Such a deserted feeling wasn’t uncommon on ships like this, especially considering the fact that they’d just gone through a battle with it, even if they hadn’t been closely involved. Anyone off duty was sleeping, and anyone on duty wasn’t prone to wandering around unless they had to. The ship was silent in terms of people moving around, but there was the ever present hum of the powerful engines of the Keldabe battleship.

When they finally arrived at his door, he quickly keyed the code and entered as soon as the door slid away. Immediately they were greeted by the vornskrs, milling around his feet as he first entered. Closing the door, he gave a short command to the canines to disperse so he could walk forward, as they were in the way. The quarters they found themselves in were quite spacious and obviously meant for a commanding officer, it was rather bare and Mac hadn’t made an attempt at personalising the rooms. Advancing towards the bed, he gently lay Shay down on it, settling her bag of possessions next to it.

With his hands finally free, he managed to greet his companions with scratches and pets, eventually picking Owen up as the pup pawed at his trouser leg. He gave a slight chuckle at the vigour of the greetings, shooting Shay a glance. “Don’t let them bother you too much.”