It's not Langoonan Measles

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira seemed more than a bit distracted as he strolled through the corridors aboard the Challenger. He wasn't terribly busy, but he did have some instruction and meditation to get to, but it had all been de-railed by a very insistant plea for help. He'd initially gone to find Loki for help (he was asked for by name), but much to Anbira's chagrin, the young Jedi very quickly made himself scarce at the mere mention of a certain VIP.

Not quite sure what the fuss was about, Anbira tried a second option, and after looking up the directory, found himself at the doorway of the convoy's head medic, Dr. de Coventina.

He buzzed the door.

[Chaz de Coventina]

Krasst.

Chaz de Coventina jerked upright, scattering the pillows that had been propping her rather comfortably against the barred headboard of her bed. The doctor glanced at the chrono resting on the small chest of drawers; she'd been lying down for exactly six minutes.

"It never fails," she muttered, swinging her legs off the side. "The minute the mask goes on, the bloody buzzer goes off."

With a shake of her head, the doctor ducked into the small adjoining 'fresher. She sighed mournfully at her reflection in the mirror - it seemed such a pity to waste perfectly good Iambic clay. She'd taken such pains to paint the bright green slop onto her face, leaving moonishly pale circles around her eyes and mouth, and the mineral-rich mud was just starting to tingle in a delightful way that meant it was beginning to work it's magic. Take off ten years in twenty minutes!, or so the jar had claimed.

Chaz sighed again and then leaned over the sink, cupped hands ferrying back and forth from the faucet to her face. The mud was cloyingly thick and rather than being broken down by the water, it seemed to rally against it and cling even more to her skin. Perhaps that was how it worked - if one scraped enough skin off, maybe a few fine lines and wrinkles would go, too.

"Coming!" Her voice was muffled by a handtowel and trailed off into a curse as Chaz, walking blindly as she patted her face dry, banged a hip against the little shelf of datapads against the wall.

Finally, the door opened.

"Yes?" Chaz greeted, a little breathlessly.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Seeing the hurried state of the Doctor, and perhaps being a little too eager to be rid of the albatross that he'd seemed to have picked up, Anbira raised his hands apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I can, uh, see it's a bad time. I'm sorry."

He moved to extricate himself from the whole matter and wash his hands of it.

[Chaz de Coventina]

"There's no such thing as a good time when you're a medic," Chaz's smile never wavered, though it was more a token gesture than anything else.

"What can I do for you, Mr...?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"Hicchoru."

He grimaced. He didn't feel at ease being a 'Mister.'

"Er, Anbira."

Shaking his head, he sighed.

"We've got a, uh, special guest who's being very insistent about seeing a doctor immediately. Says she's dying."

He brought a finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"I'm no doctor, but I'm, you know, at least able to determine if we're getting to that sort of thing. I don't suppose you have any expertise in dealing with a very insistent hypochondriac, do you?"

His expression was completely apologetic.

[Chaz de Coventina]

The wonderful thing about not giving a womprat's mangy behind about what people thought of her was that Chaz felt neither obliged nor compelled to mask the truly horrified expression that spread across her face.

Hypochondriac was a four-letter word in the doctor's book.

"Lovely." Chaz said flatly, rubbing a slow circle on her throbbing hip. There would be a spectacular bruise to show for it in the morning, which was no doubt more than whoever this high-strung ninny with the somatic overconcern was. "The only experience I have, Mr. Anbira and/or Hicchoru, involves vicious inoculation and swift discharge in order to prevent further visits. Somehow I doubt you'd be here if that course of action were sufficient."

What was that silly expression: don't shoot the messenger? Chaz pulled her shoulders back and nodded.

"Give me just a moment to get kitted out," sometimes the mere sight of full medical regalia could quell these kinds of patients. "And then you can fill me in on the details as we walk."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira found his composure, perhaps in counterbalance to the Doctor's annoyance, and gave a nod to her suggestion.

"Certainly."

It was but a moment for her to get her gear, and Anbira gave her what he knew so far.

"Your patient is, ah, let me see if I remember 'Taataani Fai'sheea Igaarrai Meorrrei, daughter of Sirraaithi Meorrrei, and Rrou'fai of House Meorrrei'."

To fend off any incredulous look, Anbira shrugged.

"I suppose she likes to pull rank. Do I look like I'd be making this up?"

[Chaz de Coventina]

"Ohhh you can't make things like that up," Chaz resisted the urge to stop dead and turn around. Instead, she began documenting a mental chart.

"So: she's a... diplomat, of some sort?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

They made the winding trip towards Madam Meorrrei's quarters, and Anbira winced at that question.

"I'm actually, er, not sure."

He was unfortunately not a fount of knowledge concerning the eccentric felinoid, and was more a victim of circumstance than anything.

"Some kind of nobility maybe? I haven't the foggiest why she's in our neck of the woods, but aside from being fussy, she seems harmless."

[Chaz de Coventina]

"Hypochondriac's are never harmless," came the reply, with a dry sort of resignation.

What was it about nobility that gave them such a queer bent? In a batch of ten eccentric characters, it was guarenteed a safe move to bet that eight of them were wealthy title-holders. The other two were probably homeless.

Chaz paused. "She's not traveling with an entourage, is she?"

Gods help them all if she had to deal with a bevy of handmaidens getting in the way.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"I don't believe so."

They'd arrived at the door, and Anbira gave a sheepish smile.

"I think, in lieu of that, she's taken to appropriating one."

He reached to the door comm, and hesitated.

"As a Jedi, I'm duty-bound to be a peacekeeper. Shall I consider myself on retainer until the patient is healed?"

With a smile, he tapped the comm.

"Madam Meorrrei?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The door comm responded with a voice that carried a Cizeri accent and a high society lilt, but also sounded somewhat stuffed up.

"Arre jyou that man wjith that unkempt bearrd? jI've forrgotten jyourr name!"

A sound issued forward that sounded like a blowing nose.

"Do come jin. jI hope jyou've found a doctorr. jI thjink jI'm djyjing!"

[Chaz de Coventina]

"You may need to intervene for her sake," Chaz said lowly, lips quirking. She cleared her throat and bent forward a little, directing her next words to the comm.

"Hello - my name is Dr. de Coventina. I understand you're not feeling well; may I come in?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jYess Doctorr, pleasse come jin. Thank Sanjaarra forr a female doctorr, jI jusst couldn't jimagjine otherrwjisse."

She was interrupted by another protracted session of nose-blowing. A few sniffles later, she continued.

"The doorr jiss unlocked. Have jyou brrought anjy medjicjine? jI need ssome!"

[Chaz de Coventina]

The door slid open with a quiet hiss to reveal the dejected looking felinoid. Whatever ailed her, it was not severe enough to waylay any beauty rituals; her face was impeccably made up and the doctor noted that she'd had the time to perfectly coordinate her jewelry with her lavish outfit.

"Ms. Meorrrei, I stick to a strict policy when it comes to prescribing pharmaceuticals," Chaz said plainly, offering a tissue from the supply in her coat pocket. "Namely, I prefer to diagnose first. You can never be too careful."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Oh, well."

She took the tissue appreciatively from the doctor, honking into it quite audibly before demurely drawing it closed to mind any potential mess. A thought occurred to her, and she extended the used tissue toward the doctor, opening it (and it's viscous contents) up like a macabre book.

"Doess thjiss look jinfected to jyou?"

A look of worry crossed her face.

[Chaz de Coventina]

There was an impressive amount of mucous fluid collected in the small tissue, a gleaming, ivory pool of bacterial filth. Chaz's face twisted.

"It looks fine," she managed in a level voice. The verdict seemed a disappointment and before the offer of another sample could be made, she amended, "Though it might be considered a touch thicker than is typical. How long have you felt ill?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

This is what he'd been reduced to? Attending a snot reading?

Anbira rubbed a finger against his temple, staving off the beginnings of a headache, but otherwise said nothing. The more invisible he was in all of this, the higher chance all this drama might pass.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"All dajy!"

Taataani whined a bit nasally, gesturing to her little collection of tissues.

"jI went out jin the morrnjing forr brreakfasst, felt terrjible afterrwarrdss, and came back to mjy quarrterrss, and haven't left ssjince."

Defeated she flopped back on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Mjy mouth jiss drrjy, jI have a headache, and jI thjink jI'm puttjing on waterr wejight!"

[Chaz de Coventina]

No doubt a little water retention was cause for the tearing of sackcloth and gnashing of teeth in this woman's realm. Heaven forbid she have trouble squeezing into a gaudily detailed shift. Chaz exchanged a flat look with Anbira.

"After breakfast, you say," she couldn't bring herself to offer any commiserate remarks, given the drama that accompanied the list of symptoms. Chaz reached into the depths of her bag and withdrew a stethoscope. "Do you have any food allergies?"

The doctor leaned over Taataani, 'scope held aloft, and frowned. It was entirely impossible to give an examination when one's patient was lolling on a bed.

"Up we get, please."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani thought about the question.

"jI don't thjink sso, well, assjide frrom bejing lactosse jintollerrant."

Her mouth twisted into a thoughtful expression, which was interrupted with Chaz's command for her to stand up. With a little groan, she rolled up to sitting position, mindful to not slouch when she was upright once more.

Feeling self conscious suddenly, she sucked in at her middle slightly.

[Chaz de Coventina]

A career's worth of experience dealing with such antics was the only thing that prevented Chaz's mouth from twisting into a smile at Ms. Meorrrei's absurd posturing. She swiftly pressed the bell of the stethoscope against the woman's chest, rotating it's position at a steady interval before moving to her back.

"Deep breath," Chaz instructed, listening closely; there was no ominous crackling but a faint, muffled wheeze was audible where an easy exhalation should have been. Nothing to worry about, at any rate. "What did you eat for breakfast? Anything that might have exacerbated your condition?"

As she spoke, the doctor gently palpated the sides of the woman's neck, peering at her eyes as she did so. Mild case of conjunctivitis, discolouration normal.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taa's ears switched back slightly at the sensation of the cold stethoscope membrane against her warm skin, which helped her draw in breath. She felt a bit like a lab animal in these sorts of things, and it was difficult to keep a sense of dignity when you were being poked and prodded.

"Hot tea, thrree nuna eggss, two nala trree frrogss and a rrabbjit."

She gave a disinterested shrug.

"Nothjing jI wouldn't norrmalljy have, jI ssupposse."

[Chaz de Coventina]

"..."

Well, what was that old proverb? Feast the sunrise like a king, midday like a prince, and dusk like a pauper; Taataani, like the only other Cizerack the doctor had come across, seemed to take to heart that breakfast was meant to be the most important meal of the day.

"Hmm. Well, the scanner's reading your temperature as slightly elevated," Chaz pronounced, putting just enough emphasis on the slightly to dissuade the woman from immediately pouncing on the malady.

It was clear that there was nothing serious going on but somehow, Chaz doubted Ms. Meorrri would accept that particular notion. Right, it was time to change tack.

"You were right to send for a medic," the copper-haired physician said gravely. Her face grew solemn, indeed even dismayed. Taking a cue from Anbira's choice of address, she continued, "Madam, unfortunately I suspect that you've contracted something called acute viral rhinopharyngitis. As you've already clearly demonstrated, it can be quite uncomfortable and inconvenient."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was an afterthought really. Nothing more than a notion that she'd decided to entertain.

Time spent on the Whaladon was never very long, only long enough to meet with the ship's captain and acquisitions officer to either update her lists or deliver the materials and goods they'd requested - most of which had to do with general maintenance supplies for the aged freighter. It was always routine and her meetings never seemed to deviate from their normal pace and subject matter. There were always pleasantries, but never were they allowed to dominate the topic of discussions.

As she did on every trip to the Jedi's central ship, Loklorien s'Ilancy wore a strange mix of Jedi robes and Alliance-cut uniform. With her hair mostly pulled back, she cut a commanding - if diminutive - figure who could be seen occasionally striding through the Whaladon's corridors.

Now, with her scheduled meetings finished and her docket full, the Lupine had thought it fitting to visit an old friend. One of the younger padawans had told her where Taataani's temporary quarters were, and with a datapad under one arm, the Jedi made her way through the maze of bulkheads.

She slowed her pace however, as she neared an open door; the door to Taataani's room. She could hear voices coming from within, and with soft footfalls she stopped in the threshold just in time to hear what sounded like a medical diagnosis. The name she couldn't hope to repeat, and she found herself screwing her features in mild confusion at the sight before her.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Madam Meorrrei's blue eyes widened at the diagnosis. Although she hadn't a clue what it meant, she was at least able to parse out the viral part of it, and a hand clapped over her surprised mouth.

She looked to Dr. de Coventina, and back to Anbira, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She eased her hand down long enough for her breathless voice to come to her in overexcited gasps.

"What...doess...what doess that mean? Am jI gojing to djie?"

As if to punctuate her awful mood, she grabbed another tissue and blew her nose yet again.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira felt a presence outside, eavesdropping on the goings-on to some degree. Fortunately, he recognized the visitor as a fellow Jedi, and though it was difficult to extricate himself from this delicate moment, he gave a small bow to the matron.

"Madam, my apologies, but I believe you have a visitor."

Anbira excused himself to head to the door, which he opened with something of a relieved look on his face.

"Ah good, reinforcements."

[Chaz de Coventina]

Chaz spared a moment to glance over her shoulder at the newly-arrived woman, before turning her attention back to her patient.

"Anything is possible, of course," Chaz said blithely. "I'm afraid there isn't an exact cure but don't let that dishearten you. You strike me as a strong woman and if there's anything that will work in your favour, it's a core resiliency."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The look on man's face only furthered her confusion, and she stole a look around him to Taataani. When she straightened back up, the Lupine couldn't help the puzzled tone of voice as her eye went up to her fellow Jedi once more.

"... reinforcements?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani tugged nervously at an ear tuft, the Doctor's words of encouragement doing very little work.

"Doctorr, how jiss that ssuppossed to make me feel betterr? jYou ssajid therre'ss no curre!"

Despondent, she sighed and fell back on the bed.

"jI'm not a jyoung woman anjymorre, but jI sshould have plentjy of tjime to go! Now, jI'm doomed to wasste awajy orr whateverr the hell jI'm gonna do."

Taataani saw s'Il enter, and pulled herself together, fiddling with a new tissue.

[Chaz de Coventina]

"That's not what I said," there was a way to direct the outcome of this encounter and if she played her cards right, her involvement would be minimal. Then she would be free to go on avoiding people as much as she liked. Chaz brushed an invisible culprit from her arm before looking up again, intently. "What I said was that there isn't an exact cure. There's no vaccination or procedure that can be performed in order to shorten the course of the illness. No, I'm afraid it's all up to you, Madam. You must get lots of rest and fluids and refrain from socializing in large numbers and if you do all of that, exactly that to the letter, there is a very good chance that you will recover in full."

After a moment's consideration, she added, "In the meantime, I can give you a decongestant to preserve the appetite of those who do visit you while you're convalescing."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira didn't say anything to s'Il, but the look he gave her, if words could be derived from it, screamed that he was ready to chew off a foot to get out of this awkward quagmire. He picked up on the fact that Taataani was at least passingly acquainted with her, and gave a small shrug to the elder Jedi.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani nodded, a bit melancholy from the news she was given. Isolation! How barbaric! She wasn't meant to be cooped up in some cage. But she did feel awful. What the doctor said made some bit of sense. Perhaps she was just being stubborn in the face of it.

"Anjy pajin medjicatjion?"

She ventured looking to the Doctor curiously. She then switched to Anbira, snapping her fingers.

"jYou...oh, jI'm sso ssorrrjy, what'ss jyourr name? Can jyou pourr me a drrjink pleasse?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd never had a chance to speak with Anbira, the Jedi she'd been told who communed with spirits, but that didn't stop s'Il from giving him a reassuring pat to his arm (as well as a reassuring smile) and moving to do herself as Taataani had asked.

On a supplies crate that now seemed to serve as a small table, a tray with a glass pitcher and two glasses rested. Setting down her 'pad, the Lupine filled one of the glasses with water.

"My schedule allowed for some extra time, and I thought to visit you. A shame that you're unwell, Taataani."

[Chaz de Coventina]

"Unless you plan on endorsing self-flagellation as a means of expressing your discomfort, pain medication won't be neccessary," Chaz shrugged, sweeping an iresome lock of hair out of her face with a casual motion that somehow managed to convey a deep sense of impatience toward the escaped ginger curl. "But perhaps your friend here can take your mind off the worst of it."

The doctor nodded to the arrived woman in lieu of holding out a hand; she'd not had opportunity to wash them and while they'd all been exposed to the mild germs, it was a deeply-ingrained precaution. "Dr. de Coventina. You are?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il trekked the small distance from the 'table' to the bed that Taataani so miserably occupied. The Cizerack Matriarch was a sight, to be sure. So unlike the exuberant woman that the Lupine was used to seeing. The fussiness was a bit unexpected, but it was more than likely the product of feeling ill.

Stopping at the side of the bed, she extended the glass to Taataani while turning to look at Dr. de Coventina.

"Loklorien s'Ilancy." she returned the nod with her own.

"A pleasure to meet you."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Darrljing..."

Taking the cup from Lok s'Ilancy (all the better, it seemed the bearded man was a bit unaccustomed to this waiting hand and foot sort of thing), Taataani beamed warmly as she sipped, inwardly wishing for a bottle of a decent wine or even a bad wine, something to nurse herself through her predicament.

"...jI jusst don't know how jyou do jit. Thesse sstarrsshjipss arre morrguess jin sspace! jIt musst be two notchess above frreezjing jin herre, and jI've taken to collectjing everrjy blanket and thrrow jI can pjilferr."

Something the Doctor said just managed to register, and her blue eyes swiveled back.

"Doctorr, look at mjy tjisssue jif jyou've forrgotten. Therre'ss a good gallon morre wherre that came frrom, and jit'ss pusshjing mjy brrajinss out mjy earrss. Do jyou trreat all jyourr patjientss ljike thejy werre borrn jyessterrdajy?"

[Chaz de Coventina]

With a long-suffering exhalation, Chaz lifted a hand to her eyes and pressed against her lids. Firmly.

"Ms. Meorrri," the doctor said sweetly, dropping her arm and looking at the tiresomely persistent woman, "there's a line between discomfort and pain. A discerning woman of station like yourself should be able to ascertain the difference and I'm sure you'll find that you're on the former side of that distinction."

Before anything further could be said, Chaz held up a casual hand. "Of course, you're more than welcome to seek a second opinion. The medbay may be inadequately supplied but it's well staffed; perhaps Dr. Henning will be more sympathetic to your plight."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Meorrrei matron nearly choked on her water, recovering in time to set the cup aside and dab at her lips with the edge of her blanket. Claws splayed open as she talked about that little suggestion.

"He'ss a Doctorr too?"

She sniffed indignantly.

"No, mjy dearr. jI thjink, ahem, Doctorr Hennjing'ss bedssjide mannerr lackss even morre than jyourr own."

Siezed suddenly by a familiar sensation, Taataani scrambled for a tissue, barely parking it at her nose before she was lifted upright by a sneeze. She held the tissue with both hands, shrouding the middle of her face as her blue eyes confirmed her worst fears, and she began to tend to the mess as demurely as possible.

"jI had to take to sspace trravel to fjind mjisserrjy thjiss perrfect. jIss jit all sso drreadful?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Oh Taataani... " s'Il soothed, her voice picking up where the doctor's had let off, but Taa's sneeze interrupted in grand fashion. It was like some magnificent exclamation point to her misery.

"You should stay in bed."

Slowly, the Lupine lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed, mindful to not disturb the Cizerack matron's resting area too terribly. A hand reached out to pat at Taataani's blanketed leg.

"The Wheel is not so dreadful, I promise. You just have to look in the right places to find the true beauty behind the bulkheads." her tone seemed to rumble from her throat in a gentle way, and not too unlike the soft, throaty purring she'd heard from Cirr on rare occasion.

[Chaz de Coventina]

Chaz nodded, lending her support to Loklorien's words. She could hardly be considered one to put importance on aesthetics but even she had found the transition to life aboard the convoy a startling change of pace; it must have been like a slap to Madam Meorrri.

And as loathe as she was to indulge such heel-dragging, not doing so would only prolong the dramatics.

"You certainly have done up your cabin impressively," she said in an encouraging tone, casting her eyes to a print in a gaudy frame that took up most of the adjacent wall. Chaz tried to look suitably charmed as she sent up a quick prayer to the gods that it was at least a recognizable piece.

"Not everyone is able to recuperate alongside a Ramaanari; surroundings do so much to lift the spirit. They've done studies on it."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani finally tucked away the now-spent tissue, setting it aside in an adjacent bin as her eyes met s'Ilancy's.

"ss'jIl, jI thjink the people herre arre wonderrful forr the mosst parrt. jI jusst take jissue at the aessthetjicss. jIt'ss cold, drrab, and grrejy. We mjight asss well be jin a ssarrdjine can!"

The doctor's comment brought an unexpected perking of the matron's ears.

"Ahh, jyou know Ramaanari? That wass mjy favorrjite when jI wass jin Academjy."

She looked at the print with a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.

"Makess me thjink of home. Alwajyss. Mjy motherr had a prrjint jin one of herr tea rroomss."

And then, if by incantation, the very word itself seemed to lift Taataani's spirits. She sat up in bed a little more.

"Actualljy, jI thjink rrjight now, ssome tea would be loveljy."

With a few more scoots, she was off the bed, padding about barefoot until she reached her large suitcase. Peeling it open, she rifled through a few contents.

"Aha! jI knew jI brrought at leasst ssome koi'a. jI trrjy to make ssurre neverr to leave home wjithout a tjin."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, s'Il watched as Taataani managed her way out and up to her feet. Her own spirits perked at the mention of tea, and the Lupine folded her hands in her lap as she watched the Cizerack matron with an intent, if not warm expression.

"Tea sounds wonderful. And I've not had koi'a since the last time I saw you."

Turning her attentions to the docter then, she smiled a polite smile.

"Tell me Doctor, how long have you been with us? I don't remember seeing you about before."

[Chaz de Coventina]

Any notion she had entertained of making a quick getaway was crushed by the appearance of the tea - which Taataani retrieved with an impressive amount of pep in her step, given how ill she purported to be. Chaz bit the inside of her cheek and clamped down on her impatience with the well-honed practice that was so indicative of Core-trained physicians.

Turning her attention to Loklorien, Chaz cleared her throat and offered a wry smile. "I came in on the Knightfall with Henning's crew and am sorry to say that things have been so hectic that I've not been able to make the rounds yet. You haven't been in for an exam, I'll wager, which is why our paths have never crossed."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani prized the lid of the tin off, and hovered over the powdery innards a moment until the aroma met her nose. Koi'a was a uniquely Cizeri delight. It derived it's name from the koi'a tree, whose leaves were cured and pulverized in a mortar. To that, exotic warming spices were added, and for good measure, haatoi, a small fish, was dried until brittle, then powdered, and a scant amount of that salty & umami-laden substance was added to the blend. Normally it would be steeped with a healthy amount of bantha milk and tula flower nectar. Here, she had to settle for blue milk and processed sugar, which she pulled from a cubby fridge and pantry unit. She measured three (aha no, four! Mustn't forget that Ani fellow, or whoever he was.) spoons of the masala into waiting cups, dispensed enough boiling water into each to make the tea fragrant, then added equal portions of milk and sugar to each to fill. A quick stir of each with a tap of the spoon against the last cup, and she had dispensed a bit of home-spun hospitality.

"Herre we arre, koi'a forr everrjyone!"

She paused over her own cup, still drawing in it's alluring scent as if that alone was recharging her spirit.

"Norrmalljy we'd have candjied prrawnss to pajirr wjith, but alass, that'ss a bjit bejyond me."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Oh Taataani," s'Il accepted the cup her Cizerack friend held out to her, bringing it to her nose and inhaling the wonderful aroma. It had been too long since she'd last had this wonderful tea, and just the scent took her back oh so many years.

She blew gently at the steam, watching as it lazily swirled upward.

"... All you have to do is ask, and I can get you most anything that you want. Including candied prawns."

A trickster's smile to Taataani, and s'Il looked sidelong to the Doctor.

"I've my own physician aboard the Dauntless, Doctor, which is why I haven't paid you a visit."

[Chaz de Coventina]

On the back of a rising curl of steam, de Coventina suddenly found herself struggling to stay within the draped quarters as her mind replaced the reinforced 'steel walls with mud plaster and the finery for simple woven mats stained the old blood colour of iron-rich sand. There was a shift in elevation that turned the air to hot licks of flame and her mother's voice, clear and deep, echoed distantly.

Chaz took a tentative sip of the koi'a and swallowed with some difficulty past her constricted throat. There was something different, a hint of unfamiliar spice that didn't belong to the scalding afternoon drink she'd grown up with and it was enough to chase away the feel of her old wooden yunomi from her palm. Taataani's china was hot against her skin and the doctor carefully transferred the crafted vessel to her unoccupied hand.

"Thank you, Ms. Meorrrei, this is very good," she said with a deferential nod. "And precisely the sort of indulgence that you ought to partake in while your illness persists. In fact, I would insist on it."

Chaz took another modest sip, letting the milky sweet liquid play across her tongue before swallowing. "And now we have met, Ms. S'Ilancy; if ever you need a second opinion our facilities are always available."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani watched from over her teacup as her guests took to their drinks. The bearded Jedi sipped in solace, being mindful to take light sips to avoid the saccharine drink from fouling his moustache.

She took another sip, breathed deeply, and exhaled, and it seemed to brighten her demeanor.

"Well, nothjing ljike a ljittle tea and companjy to ljift mjy sspjirrjitss jI guesss."

She looked to Anbira as she returned to sit on the bed.

"jI don't ssupposse Jedji arre taught anjy ssorrt of curratjive masssage technjiquess?"

She gave a conspiratorial smile behind her tea as she glanced at s'Il and the doctor.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Catching the smile, s'Il gave a minor frown. She was very aware of what Taataani was thinking, and returned a cautionary look to the Cizerack Matron.

"Not like what you may have in mind," she answered quietly.

[Chaz de Coventina]

"Apparently the deck techs are extraordinary masseuses," Chaz added, innocently blowing on her tea. "Strong, agile hands."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Before Anbira could open his mouth to comment, the doctor let that little bit of insight slip past. Bewildered, Anbira sought solace in his strangely-flavored tea.

"I know basic meditative massage techniques, yes. Designed to unburden the mind from physical strain or discomfort."

Something then told him that he'd said something wrong, as all three women looked at him with a strange expression.

"Is that the wrong kind?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Blinking slowly, s'Il opted to say nothing, and instead placed all of her attentions back to her tea. This might not end well; or at least, in Anbira's favor. She felt bad for the man in that moment.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Oh how deliciously aloof...

"jI could cerrtajinljy usse ssome unburrdenjing."

She sipped, passing a teasing glance at each of the women in the room.

[Chaz de Coventina]

"Of course in your current state that's not recommended," Chaz swirled her cup gently, the silt from the fine loose leaf rising in a slow plume from the bottom and threading in lacy stretches through the dark liquid.

"Such extra-curriculars would impede your healing process and infect participants in the process. If you would so kind as to not to add to the growing crowd in the medbay waiting room, I'd be grateful."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Doctor de Coventina is correct."

s'Il took another sip, and rose to stand. She crossed the small room in only a few short strides, stopping to stand beside Anbira.

In light of Taataani's newfound vigor, the Lupine quirked a bit of a smile.

"In fact, I would almost recommend that you be confined to quarters until this disease of yours has run its' course."

A hand was placed firmly on the other Jedi's arm, and her grip was one that silently told him that it'd be in his best interest to leave.

"We mustn't allow any sort of epidemic to sweep through the Wheel."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Returning to a bit of her dejection, Taataani sighed and set her cup aside.

"jI'm a ssocjial crreaturre, jyou know that ss'jIl. Keepjing me cooped up..."

She sighed for dramatic flourish.

"...alone! jI'll djie frrom that long beforre whateverr, whateverr thjiss jiss."

She crossed her arms in a slightly defiant way.

"Pluss, jif mjy condjitjion jiss contagjiouss asss jyou thjink jit jiss, then jit would sstand to rreasson that jyou sshould all be quarrantjined wjith me untjil the dangerr ssubssjidess, no?"

A teasing little grin slipped on her face.

[Chaz de Coventina]

"Your concern is admirable, but that would be ridiculous."

Ha - she'd been expecting that one. Chaz's face took on a bit of smug confidence and she continued. "The brass here have made sure that all medical staff are inoculated against nearly everything you can imagine - losing physicians to shortsightedness is a cost the Alliance can't afford. I'll be sure to properly decontaminate myself so as not to pose a threat, however."

As though she hadn't fully appreciated the gilded painting before, the doctor turned her attention to it with sparkling eyes. "What fortunate timing you have, Loklorien."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her gaze snapped to look back at Doctor de Coventina, and her eyes narrowed. Her teacup was gently lowered to sit on the saucer with a tiny clink while in the same motion her shoulders rolled back and she stood up just a little straighter.

"I'm afraid the Doctor is mistaken," her voice was firm, yet level.

"I do not get sick."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

That left Anbira, still with a bewildered look on his face.

"I, uh, feel fine."

It felt like a game of musical chairs to avoid quarantine, and the bearded Jedi could take a hint. He took steps toward the door and gave a nervous smile.

"Plus, I really must be getting back to my meditations. If it will help assuage fears, I can complete that in isolation in my quarters."

Hopefully that much austerity could grant him his ticket out.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

That left Taataani with her hands on her hips, looking at each of her three 'guests' and pondering their sorry excuses to abandon her.

"Well then..."

She pursed her lips together slightly to moisten them, then pointed to the door.

"Go on then! Out wjith all of jyou! Leave poorr Taataani to wasste awajy wjith no good companjy and nothjing to do!"