Quinn located Lord Lusiel in the ship's mess, early in the morning that first day after they left Balmorra. She was hunkered down in a chair, her head resting in her hands with her arms propped up on the mess table. She was obviously pained. The twi'lek girl, Vette … Vette sat across the table from Lusiel, both her lekku twitching, as she pushed a plate heaped with various foods across the table towards the Sith. Lusiel just groaned. Quinn might have agreed with her sentiments, as the food didn't look particularly appetizing, a matter he would devote his attention to as soon as possible. But Quinn felt Lusiel's immediate distress was more important.

"It's because you keep missing meals, you know. All that jumping towards the people you have to kill and swinging yer lightsaber … I'm telling you, you burn off more energy than you consume," Vette was saying as Quinn entered the room.

"Vette, please. I do eat."

"Hah, when's the last time you actually ate a full meal?"

The droid standing nearby the food producer helpfully responded to the query. Quinn wasn't sure what was more absurd. The droid's tone or its attire. Someone had draped a red apron around its neck that was emblazoned with a large pink heart and the words, "Everyone loves the cook!" The droid's cheerfulness was entirely appropriate, given the prop. But the absurdity of the situation was striking. Quinn realized after only a moment he'd actually stopped to gape at the machine for some long moments. "Master ate a meal composed of chunks of nerf beef in brown gravy over a plate of white rice, with green tubers on the side approximately two days, three hours ago, Vette," the droid recited.

Vette waved a finger towards her Sith lord. "See, told you so! You're not eating right!"

"Vette. I've eaten several things since then. Just … not a full meal. We've been running all over the damn place on Balmorra for weeks, remember? You were there! And you ate at the same times I did!"

"First, that wasn't food. It was military rations. Except when we were at Mr. Stick in the Mud's place. That food was okay. But even then it was rushed. I think you inhaled that fish stuff they served for lunch that one time! Second, you don't really eat food. It just sort of disappears into your mouth. Hello! The word is rushed, remember. Finally, you just plain work harder than me. I hang back and shoot blasters. You're the one jumping right in there!"

Vette eyed Lusiel balefully, as Quinn wondered if he was "Mr. Stick in the Mud". Lusiel poked her drooping head up, looking with dark-circled eyes at the twi'lek, before glancing down at the plate of food again. She groaned, "I just can't."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance, my lord." Quinn's remark startled both the women and they looked over to where he was standing, still in the doorway.

"Can you get food down her throat," Vette demanded, glaring at him.

"Actually, I think if her immediate pain was relieved she would be far better able to eat a meal."

"Well, I'm no doctor, so there's no way really to fix her up. Toovee has some healing abilities but his efforts haven't been particularly helpful, either."

Quinn looked at the droid he thought might be the "Toovee" Vette was referring to, draped in that outrageous apron, and wondered what possible use the thing had if it could not produce an appealing meal nor provide adequate healing, either. It seemed to be capable of nothing more than entertainment, and even then it was more annoying than anything else. Perhaps he could adjust its voice parameters. The machine was a debacle.

"I myself have some healing skills, actually," Quinn said.

At this, Lusiel glanced up again, hopeful. "We do have a med bay just behind the bridge. Have you seen it?"

"Of course, my lord. It's stocked quite well."

"That's because no one really goes in there, except to grab some bandages every so often. I think our Kolto stores are completely full, even. I usually opt to visit a clinic on planet," Lusiel admitted.

Quinn shook his head. "That won't be necessary anymore. I assure you, I can provide any medical assistance the crew needs, my lord. Come, I'll show you."

Lusiel gladly followed the captain from the mess, moving down the hall towards the door to the medical bay. Quinn guided her to a nearby table, where he directed her to sit on the cushioned surface. He retrieved various instruments from the cabinets lining the walls, before approaching Lusiel and placed the items carefully within reach.

"You need to remove your robe, my lord. Just the top. I need to examine your lungs and heart, to ensure none of the medicine I might use will upset your system."

Lusiel's lips twitched. "Expose my chest to you, hmmm?"

"As part of a medical examination, yes, my lord."

"Ah, you're not being any fun, Quinn."

Quinn turned and reached for the appropriate scanning tool, as Lusiel peeled the upper part of her robe from her shoulders. The fabric dropped smoothly down her arms and back to pool in a bunch at her hips, leaving Lusiel completely bare from the waist up. It was her creamy breasts Quinn observed as he returned to face her again, the perfect pink buds of her nipples puckered from the sudden exposure to a cold room.

Quinn swallowed, staring, certain of exactly two things. One, that no woman, ever, had such absolutely flawless breasts as Lusiel Phyre did. They seemed as if made to fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, even, he thought wildly. And, two, no military protocol on any world or among any species could save him from making an utter ass of himself right then. He felt himself panting. Yes, like a dog.

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, finally, and Lusiel sighed. Quinn's eyes had actually darkened, until the blue appeared so deep it reminded her suddenly of the way the space around a star appeared through the ship's forward windows. Just almost blue, she thought. She had long thought his eyes gorgeous. But this? Definitely something she'd need to see again. And again. She wondered if she could just keep his eyes that color. Could a man survive constant desire? Could she? Well, Quinn was clinical. Maybe he'd agree to help her find out. Just ... not right now.

"Quinn, if I wasn't sure my head was about to explode from this pain, I would say something particularly engaging. I might even take your hand and put it where I want it to be. But I'm really hurting."

Quinn shook himself, looking away in order to focus on his work, scanning the Sith's torso for breathing and heartbeat sounds. His work was methodical as he mentally berated himself. Not even a full day passed, not even one day! The thump of her heart came through the scanner clearly. As he thought, Lusiel was incredibly healthy. He noted several scars on her chest and abdomen, however. One particularly large scar looped from her right hip up and over to curl across her lower back. Quinn frowned, identifying it as an old scar caused by a lightsaber strike. He doubted she was more than ten years of age when that wounding occurred.

After several more tests and scans, he was convinced Lusiel's severe headache was the result of inadequate diet, extraordinary fatigue, and, of course, stress. He prepared a dose of adequate medicine.

"My lord, this will make you sleep, because it's imperative you receive appropriate rest. I would rather you remain here in the bay in the meantime, so that I can continue monitoring you as the medicine works." Quinn gestured for Lusiel to repair her clothes, before he administered the dosage. She pulled her robe back up and over her shoulders.

"Thank you, Captain. See that I am woken in time for dinner, or Vette will nag me endlessly over skipping another meal."

"Of course, my lord."

Quinn stood there watching her until the Sith had fallen to sleep. Then he moved across the room to retrieve a blanket he used to cover her. He watched Lusiel for a few minutes more, observing her features when she was most relaxed. Her dark hair spilled unbound across her back and the surface of the table behind her, while her hands were pulled up and clasped together just under her chin. She looked … innocent, somehow. Hardly an image to coincide with that of the lightsaber-wielding bringer of death so many Balmorran rebels had met during their last moments.

Quinn shifted, feeling the tightness his groin seemed to remain whenever Lusiel was in the same room. He wondered suddenly if that would always be the case, if he would always want her as much as he did right then. Maybe the more important question was did he want to always desire her so much as he did right then? He retreated from the bay, looking back at her sleeping there before ducking out through the door.

At least he knew the answer to that question, Quinn thought, smiling to himself.


Vette woke Lusiel before dinner, bursting into the medical bay somewhat typically for the twi'lek. Lusiel sat up slowly, blinking at her. Vette harrumphed, "You just had to let him on the ship. Do you know what that captain of yours did?"

"My captain?"

"Yes, my lord. Because I'm not taking responsibility for him! But seriously! He took Toovee's apron! He says he doesn't know what I'm talking about but I know he did it! My lord, it took me forever to find that apron in the market place at Kaas City, remember?" Lusiel just stared at her. Vette groaned, "You're not going to do anything about it, are you?" Lusiel slowly shook her head. Vette threw her hands up and stormed out of the bay. Lusiel climbed from the table, readjusting her robe and chuckling to herself.

She felt refreshed, even renewed. The pounding pain in her temples had not only receded but was gone entirely, with no lingering twinges or pressures to contend with. For Lusiel, the utter absence of her former distress was almost overwhelming. She had, in fact, become accustomed to the pain as a lingering constancy, even as she fought and hewn her way through challenge after challenge on Dromund Kaas and Balmorra. Feeling so much better all of a sudden was sublime.

Oh, poor Quinn. He would never get away from her after this. In fact, she may just take him everywhere with her. Always. Wouldn't that be nice? Lusiel almost danced from the bay. She dressed herself in her quarters, donning a burgundy-colored tunic and black trousers, before heading to the mess. Vette was right. Toovee's standard metal frame was uncovered by any sort of apron as he settled a plate of food in front of her. What's more, the food was delicious. A tempting dish of some sort of poultry baked into a pie shell with a flaky crust that oozed thick yellow gravy. Lusiel ate every speck of food on her plate and then had Toovee bring her another serving. By the time she left the mess in search of her ship's new captain, Lusiel was feeling utterly content.

Quinn was working on the bridge, which Lusiel thought somewhat amusing, given the hour. Vette had retreated in sullen silence to her quarters earlier. But Quinn was still tapping and ticking at the consoles in front of him, referring every so often to a datapad he carried in his right hand. She thought him particularly fetching as she stood there, watching him. It helped that he was still in uniform. She really did like the look of a man in uniform, Lusiel thought, sighing loudly just to gain his attention.

Quinn finally noticed her, looking over to find her perched in the doorway to the bridge. He came to some sort of attention, standing abruptly to face her. Lusiel moved further into the room. "My lord, I have settled into my quarters and fully acquainted myself with the ship. I am at your disposal." Quinn recited the words like they were a report. Lusiel was amused, of course. But her standard game didn't seem applicable, here. Perhaps she should accept this new game for what it was, she thought. She would call it "provoking Malavai Quinn into removing HIS uniform top" for now.

"I should probably inspect those quarters, captain," Lusiel replied huskily.

"You'll find them spotless and in order, my lord," Quinn responded. She smiled. The tone of his voice indicated he liked her teasing, even if he didn't necessarily address it. He continued, "You'll also find I am fully trained in all aspects of operating this vessel. I can both navigate and pilot."

Lusiel shifted her weight, thrusting her hip out at a curved angle while placing her hands smoothly at either side of her waist. Quinn's gaze darkened. "If you're half as good at evading obstacles as you are my advances, then my ship is in good hands."

Quinn nodded. "I'm here to do a job, my lord."

Oh, this was going to be so much fun.