>Luke pages: You hear a knock on your door. The local time (Eastern US) is: Wed Mar 18 20:32:46 1998 Home One: Living Quarters(#645RL) The headquarters frigate of the Rebel Alliance, the Mon Calamari cruiser Home One, exemplifies Mon Cal esthetics. Surfaces are smooth and curved, dimensions fascinatingly irregular. Form and function blend into a harmonious whole, instrumentation and data readouts seemingly appearing from nowhere, tucked away in natural-seeming nooks. A maze of corridors winds through the ship's multiple decks. Quarters and operational facilities for thousands of beings are layered within, and the passageways are busy at all times of day and night. At the far end of the corridor is a single doorway guarded at all times by two Special Forces soldiers in formal uniforms. Contents: Luke Obvious exits: Quarters Barracks Central Corridor Rellawy Woodlake's door slides open, and Rell herself peers out, blinking blearily, trying to pretend she looks alert. One hand on the door control, she begins, "Aye...?" before fully focusing on the hallway before her. Luke's hand is raised to knock again. He draws it back just in time to keep from knocking on the lady's forehead. His smile falters with embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" "Commander Skywalker..." Rell blinks a few times, straightening where she stands, though her hand moves up off the control on the inside of her door to rest against the wall. A brief, odd expression flits across her features before she more or less composes them, and she shakes her tousled head. "Nay, ye didnae wake me. C'n I be helpin' ye?" "It's Luke, remember?" His smile and his state of mind are clear and serene. "I was thinking maybe we could talk a bit, but I should let you get some rest." A step back puts him in the traffic stream of the corridor. "Another time perhaps." The young woman stares oddly for a few moments at her unexpected visitor, then manages a brief, small smile. "I've... rested as much as I generally do. What are ye wantin' to talk about, then...?" A beat, and then she appends, "... Luke?" It comes out of her almost 'Luch', a soft gutteral on the end. Luke looks up and down the hall. "Well, actually." He shifts his weight from his right foot to his left. "I would rather speak to you in private." Rellawy blinks, a time or two, at that. "Ah... alright, then... where?" She glances over her shoulder, then adds with something that might be humor, "My quarters are rather closetlike." Luke tilts his head slightly to see around her and blushes ever so slightly. "Oh. Well." He turns those blue eyes back to her face. "Observation deck?" Rellawy bobs her head, lifting her hand off the wall to shove it through her short loose curls, apparently to put them into some semblance of order, though the gesture doesn't appear to have much of an effect. Her door swishes shut behind her, as she steps into the corridor. "Aye," she agrees. Luke nods and gestures politely for her to proceed him. Home One: Central Corridor The headquarters frigate of the Rebel Alliance, the Mon Calamari cruiser Home One, exemplifies Mon Cal esthetics. Surfaces are smooth and curved, dimensions fascinatingly irregular. Form and function blend into a harmonious whole, instrumentation and data readouts seemingly appearing from nowhere, tucked away in natural-seeming nooks. A maze of corridors winds through the ship's multiple decks. Quarters and operational facilities for thousands of beings are layered within, and the passageways are busy at all times of day and night. Obvious exits: Corridors Conference Room Hangar Bay Briefing Room Ship's Infirmary Training Room Mess Hall Living Quarters Bridge Observation Deck Luke has arrived. Luke moves in the general direction of the observation deck. Luke has left. You move aftwards, through the maze of corridors, towards the observation deck. Home One: Observation Deck This is the observation deck of the Mon Calamari cruiser, Home One, that serves as the Rebel Alliance's capital flagship. The observation deck, at the stern of the ship, is afforded a spectacular view of the ship's hull and beyond, as it curves gracefully away into the star-speckled blackness of space. The lighting is dim, but not uncomfortably so, the area decorated as a lounge of modest size, with comfortable seats and low tables. The panoramic viewport is guarded by a decorative railing, as well as a large red button that can be pushed to slide blast shielding in front of it, an uncomfortable reminder of a war that seems at odds with this peaceful luxury-liner lounge. A small bank of computer terminals occupy the forward wall, by the arched portal that leads out to one of the ship's main corridors. Contents: Luke Obvious exits: Arched Portal Luke walks in slightly behind and to one side of Rellawy. A slight gesture gets the attention of a servo-droid. "You want something?" he asks his companion. Rell would, if she were a taller girl, be loping as she enters the room; it's the same kind of gait, though perhaps a trifle strange on someone of her height. Still, she enters the room, her eyes ahead of her, rather than on the black-clad young man behind her. Until he addresses her, that is. Then she glances round a bit, smiles fleetingly, and answers, "Aie, well. Nae, nae for now. I drink too much shakla as it is." Luke laughs lightly and procures a large mixed fruit drink. "The sofa by the window is rather private and comfortable." He lets Rellawy choose. Rellawy nods to that, too, her gaze going directly there -- again, rather than settling on the Jedi. She heads that way, and, destination achieved, she sinks down onto that sofa, once more shoving a hand through her hair, eyes dropping closed for a moment. Luke follows soundlessly. He rounds the opposite corner of the couch, but does not sit there. A small ottoman sits before the sofa and he sinks onto it. "What's wrong, Rellawy? You're trying very hard to not be here." A small sigh blows out of the girl. She crosses her legs, plunks an elbow down on the knee on top, and then plunks her chin into her hand, and finally considers Luke over the top of her fingertips, curled up on one side of her face. "Is that what ye wanted to talk wi' me abou'?" she asks, without tenseness, at least not in her voice. Luke shakes his head and lowers his eyes. "No. It wasn't." The silence is taken up by his movements to fold his legs under him. "I heard about Captain Garrison and wanted to know if you were okay." Rell doesn't shift position, though there's a brief flicker of something across her features, and she swallows, once. It takes her a moment before she answers, lowly, "I am... as alright as I get. Major Matthias tattled on me, did he? Or was it the med droid?" One corner of her mouth quirks for an instant, almost a smile; then she dips her head so that her forehead, rather than her chin, rests in her hand. Luke tilts his head and looks at her. "I wouldn't call it tattling. Besides, the person was just concerned." Rellawy doesn't look up, though there is perhaps a glimpse of a weak smile on her down-angled face. "'Tis... grateful I am to hear that, then," she murmurs. "But not really." He nods and settles himself more comfortably, sipping his juice. "Then I shall not pry. Have you been practicing your meditation?" The girl does peek up a bit at that, one brow quirked at the first comment, and it stays up at the second. "Aye," she answers huskily. Luke nods. "Good. That should help you sleep better. You do look tired a lot of the time." Another sip of juice. "Do you need any help?" Rellawy starts to sit up, slowly, a kind of wariness stealing across her expression. With evidently cautiously chosen words, she answers slowly, "I'm... open to any suggestions ye'd be havin'." Luke takes the glass in both hands and regards the woman-child across from him. "That was why I suggested the mediation. Your talents are not part of the Force." The serious face smooths into a smile. "At least not a part of the Force I understand. So, I'm not sure what to do. I was hoping you could tell me what bothers you and then we could try and find something that works for you." It's obvious the offer touches something in Rell; she draws in a breath, then drops her crossed leg to join the other, and props her head in both her hands, now. "That... I... amnae quite sure where to begin, Luke." She makes a small noise; it might be a laugh. "It seems I'm bafflin' Captain Drake as well." Luke listens with that kind of attention that invites the person talking to continue without having to make a verbal contribution to the conversation. Rell continues, low, hesitant, perhaps struggling for her words. "I... well... John Silence, he came to me, to ask me to heal his captain. I... went. I healed 'er. I had to, the moment I entered the room." Her hands come down, though she still keeps her elbows propped on her knees, and she lifts a fretful gaze to her listener. "I... lost myself, then. That is the way of it. When I came back, she was healed, and she was in m'head." Luke prompts, "In your head?" "Aye." That's all Rell says in reply, rough and tired. Luke nods. "Care to elaborate?" "I..." Rell pulls in another breath. "I... have her... feelings, within me. They'll... pass. In a week. Maybe two. She... wasnae too badly harmed, but badly enou'. I can... feel 'er, better than most, right now." Luke leans forward. "I had not heard it was like that for you. You can't clear these emotions from your head?" The young woman swallows again, and breathes out, "Nae." After a moment, she shakes her head as well. Luke frowns. He drinks the juice while thinking. "Does the meditation help any?" A pause; another controlled sigh. Rell, it seems, is clinging to her composure with ragged strength. "Some," she allows, "but... I cannae do it, too well." "Do you want help?" Luke's offer is made quietly. Blue-green eyes lift to meet blue, and Rell's expression shifts slightly again, making her look a strange mix of young and tired and old and pleading, all at the same time. She opens her mouth, closes it again, then only nods, shakily. Luke slides from the ottoman to the sofa. The glass goes on a table to one side. "I would like to sense you more deeply. Nothing really intrusive, but I need to see who you are emotionally." Rellawy reels back a little where she sits; for a moment, she seems deeply alarmed. Then, she manages another nod, and a hoarse, "A... alright." Luke shakes his head ever so slightly. "You're afraid of me? Don't be. I wouldn't hurt you." Not quite able to manage a smile, Rell murmurs, "'Tis... a liar I'd be, if I said ye didnae make me nairvous... dinnae take it personal, Captain Drake does, too...." The smile flickers into being then, though Rell has to squash the thought _-You- make me -more- nervous..._. Luke nods. "Let's start with that then. Why do I make you nervous?" He sits in his space not invading the woman's." _That_ startles her, too. She stares exhaustedly at the man before her for a long moment, before deciding to simply try truth and see where it leads her. "You... and Captain Drake, ye're both... louder than everyone else. And ye're... louder than he." Another brief pause; then, Rell adds, "You were... verra loud, on the Hangar. Th'other naight." Terence enters from the corridor. Terence has arrived. Luke closes his eyes at the mention of the incident in the hanger bay. "My apologies. I was out of control." Rell considers this, then slowly and shyly nods, holding her position sitting there on the sofa. She's sat up more or less now, and has managed to settle her gaze on the Jedi before her. Luke's blue eyes open and fix on Rellawy. "As you know, I've been going through some trying times myself of late. I will try to be quieter." The gentle smile is back. "Am I loud now?" Rellawy's mouth achieves a ghost of a grin. "No," she answers, steadily enough. Luke and Rellawy are sitting on a sofa near the main window, talking. Luke smiles. "Good. I've been trying to be more the way I should. If I get loud, you let me know." Terence walks in and spots the two by the sofa he walks over and watches for a bit. He whispers to Luke, "What are you doing?" Rellawy's gaze flickers off sidelong to the door, then, as it opens on the newcomer's arrival; although it's a subtle change in her posture, it's still detectable, a kind of closing off, a veiling. When Luke speaks again, she starts, then turns her head back round to him, seeming a moment as if she hadn't quite heard him. Then, slowly, she rises. "Commander Skywalker... I think... perhaps I should be goin' to lay down.... if ye'll excuse me?" Luke nods to Rellawy. "When you are ready, just let me know." He stands politely. A small nod and smile acknowledge Terence's presence. Rellawy smiles weakly to Terence, adding to him, "Please, ah, dinnae mind me..." Rellawy flicks another brief gaze up to the Jedi, and perhaps in keeping with her earlier words, that gaze is bemused... and nervous. She manages a smile, but the nervousness remains in her expression as the young woman bobs her head to both men, then turns on her heel and makes an unsteady way out of the room.