Her jest about not being able to fit all of her hats in the room, elicits only a slightly forced smile from Ash.  While he does appreciate the effort, it only helps to highlight what he believes to be an inappropriate comment.  But the doctor does not really call him out on it.  Far from it, she is very forthcoming.  He knows the fault lies only with him.

Ash gratefully accepts the thin porcelain cup from the doctor with two hands.  "Thank you, Doctor." the navigator states simply.  He inclines his head in a slight bow, and briefly smells the aroma of the wafting steam.  Then he takes a sip of the tea, savoring its flavor mingled with its light scent.  Ash's expression goes blank for a moment, apparently lost in thought.  Then he a faint smile crosses his lips, "You do me an honor, Ms. Tiesi.  Is that Solomani jasmine?  A rarity this far from the Rim, is it not?" he ventures.  And while the tea is very good, even he can tell that; Ash is not used to the myriad flavors and is sure that his missing some of the more subtle nuances.

Still, the tea, coupled with the Doctor casual, easy demeanor, does appear to work its magic and Ash appears to relax a bit in his chair.  He still holds the cup with both hands centered on his lap, but his shoulders have slumped slightly as some of the tension flows from him.

As the doctor scans the room, Ash follows her gaze around the room - though sometimes it appears that he is watching her and her reactions more than what she is looking at.  He listens quietly to her explanation.  And when she queries him about his own quarters, Ash gives her a faint, crooked smile.  "I... I don't really have many belongings." he offers, "Our last stop didn't leave me much time to get things to decorate with..."  He purses his lips, "N-not that I would do much.  I'm not very imaginative that way."  He ran his finger idly around the lip of the porcelain, making it sing slightly.  Another slight smile crossed his face.  Another honor, such wonderful porcelain - the doctor has brought out the good china.

Ash takes another small sip, and his mind wanders a little as he continues, "I... I mean, I guess that I've just never really had the opportunity or call to do much of that I guess."  Ash glanced down at the swirling liquid in the cup.  Then he looks back up at the doctor, and shrugs slightly, "The Navy had plenty of restrictions on such things.  I never rose to a high enough position to really have any significant personal property allowances."

"In the IISS," he notes with a slightly deprecating smile, "I was too busy getting shot at."  Ash sighs, then notes with a slight amount of reluctance, his right hand going to his right knee for a moment, "I spent a lot of time dirtside actually.  And after that..."  His brow furrows for a brief moment as he dredges up more memories, before he continues, "I knocked around a fair bit never really got a chance to settle in one place.  There was a some working passage and a lot of double occupancy living for a while there."  Another sip, another shrug, "Not very conducive conditions to decorating a personal space."

Realizing that he is rambling a fair bit, Ash glances about the room trying to envision it with more plants to preoccupy his time.  "I think that you have done a fine job here." he offers quietly.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:18, Thu 03 Mar 2011.

Her attempt to put Ash at ease fails miserably, Shui can see.  Fortunately, the tea does not.  She nods her head at his appreciation, and considers how best to answer.  The truth, it seems, would likely serve well enough, and besides, she hates to lie. "Close," the doctor admits.  "It comes from Lan-Chou, in the Deneb sector."  Home.  A painful thought.  "I have been lucky enough to find good tea from time to time."  The doctor laughs.  "The truth?  When I find myself a little low, I scour whatever spaceports we pass through in a desperate search.  Right now, I have sufficient quantity - anything further would simply age too much before use."

His words continue to be hesitant, but she doesn't miss his check on the porcelain.  That pleases her, though his description of his former activities does not - it sounds like a horrible life. "Certainly we all have personal feelings on what we wish on our desks," she murmurs.  "Styles and fads are dross; I'm sure your room will slowly become more 'your own' without you even being aware of it.  Perhaps now that you find yourself without restrictions save space -" she waves her hand about her quarters, likely larger than anything Ash had in the Navy "- you will discover another side of yourself."

Again, she inclines her head.  "It does please me that you think so," Shui replies to his compliment, still smiling.  There comes a pause as she sips her tea; then, "So you were shot at."  The smile dims. "Did you suffer many injuries in your former profession, Mr. Tescali?" Now her expression grows apologetic.  "Forgive me for prying, but this is something I should know for the physical.  I have...medical records -" a wave of her dataglove displays a holo-blur in the air, too far from Ash to be properly calibrated for his eyes "- but I often find them lacking.  I would rather hear your thoughts on your health." 

Hopefully truthful ones; she has found that ex-military tend to exaggerate the minor injuries and completely gloss over the major ones.

Ash looks thoughtful for a moment.  "The tea is exquisite, Ms. Tiesi.  Though I cannot claim to be a connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination."   He mulls over the tea's origin.  "Lan-Chou" he repeats and then pauses.  "I.. I have heard of it, but never been there." Ash remarks ruefully.  He looks up as he brings the tea to his lips one more, before asking innocently enough, "How did you hear of this particular leaf?  Have you ever been to there?"

But then, the Doctor has moved on.  And Ash is swept up with her other questions.  A faint, slightly enigmatic smile and a shrug accompany her assertion that he will make his quarters his own eventually.  A non-committal "Perhaps..." is all that he can manage.  Honestly, every time he contemplates having quarters of his own to do what he wishes in, it overwhelms him; comfortable and inviting as well as scary and daunting all at once.  His brow furrows for a moment, and he struggles for something further to say.  Ash sips his tea for a moment, stalling ever so slightly.

Mercifully in that space, Shui asks about different personal information.  Questions that he can actually answer.  Ash lets out a measured exhalation when she asks about previous injuries.  He casts his mind back over fifteen years as Ash tries to catalog everything that has happened.  "Well," he starts by rubbing his right arm and shoulder, "I have some old burns that I got while pulling a fellow shipmate from under some ruptured plasma conduits aboard the Jesper Hesperion"  Ash glances at Shui who is not Navy and notes apologetically, "She was a 6000-dton Naval Destroyer.  Sundiver-class, if I recall correctly."  He adds darkly, though most of the bitter edge is time-worn, leaving primarily sad-tinged regret, "My CO was promoted.  I ... I just got the burns."  There is no use in revisiting the reprimand or the inquiry panel recommendations now that a decade has passed.

Ash stops for a moment to regard the doctor.  He places his half-full tea cup on her desk.  His demeanor is open as he leans back again.  Obviously, Ash is getting ready to go through an entire laundry list.  "There is a fair bit, Doctor." he notes off-hand.  "Are you going to want to see all of these?" Ash ventures tentatively, "It may be easier in some respects rather than me trying to describe them all psuedo-chronologically and probably, highly haphazardly ..."

Ash's question about Lan-Chou is expected with some hidden dread - fortunately the conversation moves on without Shui having to explain she was born there.  Its mere mention is a bad enough slip.  Sadly, the dodged bullet is covered over by bad feelings on the pilot's part; apparently his own stint in the Navy was not as enjoyable as that of others.

"I'm not familiar with the various classes of warships," she absently notes, still studying the man - it seems the pilot has begun to open up a trifle, offering personal information as well as losing his nervousness.  Good - Shui prefers her patients, especially those of the crew, to be at ease.  "It does sound like a grossly unpleasant experience, though."

From the tone of voice, there's a great deal more to it than is explained.

She cocks her head to the side as he offers Show-and-Tell on his various scars and injuries, and nods.  "If you wish," the doctor agrees.  "It would be more convenient...I will have to record your descriptions, though - for your file."  Her lips quirk slightly.  "If you wish, we can begin, but feel free to continue speaking to me during your exam."  She indicates the dataglove.  "Nothing, however, you would not wish captured for posterity - not without warning me first, at least."

It's mostly a shrug that Ash gives Shui in response to her prompting him about his Naval experiences.  He swallows hard and then sighs.  Ash glances at his teacup for a moment, and then looks at the doctor intently, "I... I really thought that I would be able to make a career in the IN, ma'am."  He purses his lips, "My parents were quite proud of me when I made Ensign; they were just blue-collar workers on Jewell.  Barely making ends meet while we all watched the Naval ships lift off from the shipyards."  Ash pauses and gives the doctor a slightly rueful smile, "Anyways, my promotion was a bit late - I was already halfway through my second four-year tour."  He averts his eyes, as he can no longer look at the doctor while relating the rest of the story.  "I... I was pretty naive back then.  I never realized that the infighting between officers was worse than what I had been privy to as an NCO.  I never thought that my career would end so quickly, over something so.. so petty.  My second tour was my last.  I wasn't 'welcome' in the Navy any longer."  Ash shakes his head as if dispelling cobwebs or a horrible dream or just in plain disbelief.  But, he remains silent on the topic after that.

When the exchange about disrobing for the actual examination portion of the physical, Ash quirks his head to the side with a slight smile playing on his lips, "Doctor, I can assure you that my intentions are nothing, but honorable."  It seems to him that Shui is making a joke when warning him about not displaying too much of anything; Ash is fully aware that he is not much of a ladies man, that his physical stature is not very imposing or in any way exciting.  He looks at her as he stands and begins to pull off his duster, noting quietly, "I'm sure that you have much more exciting things to look at than my old body with it's old scars, if your duties didn't force you into this situation."

Ash tosses his duster on to the seat that he was sitting at.  And unzips the top portion of his coveralls.  Given that he has not unbuckled his belt, the garment peels off of his top half - revealing slightly slumped shoulders covered by a lightweight, white, tank-top style undershirt.  He ties the sleeves of his coverall around his waist to keep them out of the way.  He notes, "I am not particularly proud of my body or all of the abuses it has suffered.  But, things just are whatever they are..."

The old navigator is not kidding about having a laundry list.  The plasma burns that he just previously described are readily apparent on one of his arms; they climb his shoulder and disappear under the tank top.  And his left forearm bears the knife scar that he flashed before in the class.  But even beyond those two things, there is plenty more.

Upon closer inspection, there are a number of claw marks as well on that forearm.  Further up by the left shoulder, Ash sports a couple of purplish pinprick spots or burns.  They are small, less than a centimeter in diameter, not spread out like the plasma burns on his right arm and shoulder.  To Shui's trained eyes, these burns appear to be made from the application of coherent beams of light to his flesh; the tell-tale dimples where the surface flesh boiled away and the surrounding material was immediately cauterized, indicative of the trauma type.  The wound size implies very little dispersion, indicative of the fact that there must have been very little distance between the weapon and the target flesh.

There are other discolorations on his skin: some appear to be old lesions or scars; others are perhaps road rash or other scrapes; lastly, his knuckles and hands bear a fair number of scars and nicks.  Most are very old, having long since scabbed over and healed, only to experience another trauma which layers one on top of the other.

Ash stands before Shui, hands held open and pointed down.  His eyes are bit downcast and there is a little bit of flush in his cheeks.  He stammers slightly, "Uh... so, ummm... where would you like me to start, Doctor?"

It isn't hard to sense Ash's reluctance to continue on the topic of his naval disaster.  And he has, after all, said everything in a sense.  Shui lets it drop - for the moment - and moves on to the matter of the physical, smiling at Ash's attempt at humor.  It's not a spectacular one - and one she has heard before, in a variety of wordings, from a variety of sexes, with a variety of truthfulness - but she acts as if it were a matter of some amusement.  "Of course, Mr. Tescali.  I would expect no less from a gentleman."

It's a sign he is more at ease, and for that she is grateful.

"As for excitement, I find my duties quite interesting," she notes as the pilot begins the process of removing his clothing.  "I am hardly 'forced' into anything...were that the case, I would find a different line of work, Mr. Tescali." Her smile removes any possible reprimand from the words, turning it into a statement of fact.  "I enjoy being a doctor," she confesses, "and physicals are part of it."

Of course, she has long-since developed a doctor's mindset - when on the job, the sight of a man or woman's body stirs no personal feelings in her, only a clinical fascination with its workings.  But that, in itself, often proved rewarding.

"Most people, I find, could use a little more pride in their bodies," the doctor murmurs, studying what is revealed.  Burns.  The scar she spotted before.  Evidence of animal (or alien) attack.  Laser damage from a low-power weapon at close range - a higher-powered beam would have vapourized tissue, superheating its liquids to gas in an instant.  Brawling callouses on his hands - old and scarred.  A laundry list indeed, and needing some ironing out.

"Many scars," she notes quietly.  "Your navy career was difficult, to say the least, and in many ways.  I'm certain it has left further wounds than the ones I see...."  Her lips twist in a moue of irritation that people would treat each other so poorly - people ostentiably on the 'same side'. "Where to begin?  I would prefer you strip down to your underwear at the least, Mr. Tescali.  Unless you have a philosophical or religious reason to avoid such."  She doubts this is the case, given his time in the navy.  Glancing up from the visible scars, she offers an encouraging smile.  "And then I would ask for a brief description of each - you need not go into detail save for the method of injury, should you not wish."

Ash nods in acquiescence to Shui's request to disrobe.  He releases the thighstrap to his blade and then unclips it, placing it on the seat next to his duster.  Then he undoes his belt, but does not pull it from the loops.  Ash unzips his coveralls and steps out of them, carefully picking, then rolling them up.  Placing the bundle of clothing on the seat next to the knife and duster.  He leaves his underwear on, which actually happens to be a one-piece item.  It is a white, form fitting, set of bib shorts.

Ash's legs have seen less abuse than his arms and torso, but they still show a fair number of scars and injuries.  The most obvious injury is the one that Ash has never been secretive about.  Ash's right knee shows a large circular burn.  The regenerated tissue in the hole is pinkish and not perfectly matched in tone or color - it also does not fill the hole completely, the dimpled impression is perhaps a centimeter deep.

Beyond the large collimated beam damage to his knee, Ash's right leg also bears some scars of similar shape and size to the one's on his arm.  Both legs show some trauma additional burn trauma, but with different burn pattern then the plasma burns on his left arm and torso.  There is also some evidence of shrapnel and as well as a number of bullet holes in his left thigh and calf.  All the injuries have healed, but given Shui's trained eye they cannot be more than six or seven years old.

Ash glances down at his body as contemplates for a moment where to start.  The edges of his mouth quirked up for a moment, as the Doctor postulates the Navy being the primary origin of most of his injuries.  "Actually, Doctor," the navigator notes off-hand, "while the two Imperial services that I have served in do account for a significant proportion of the injuries I have sustained.  There is a pretty even split between the two."  Ash glances up at the doctor, giving her another slightly rueful smile.

"So, this beauty," he points to his right knee. "is a 2cm laser carbine blast at short to near point blank range.  The product of raiders attempting to hijack the xBoat that I was manning in IISS in..." Ash looks thoughtful for a moment, "late 1099 or early 1100."  He rubs his knee for a moment and notes matter-of-factly, "they tried to reconstruct the vaporized ligaments and tendons, with limited success.  It was difficult giving the timing."  Ash then points to the pinpricks on his shoulder, "These were from the same time frame.  Though it was a different... earlier, attempt.  A laser pistol, I believe."

Ash looks intently at Shui, to see if the Doctor has additional questions about the incident or wishes to inspect those particular injuries further before he moves on.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:04, Sat 19 Mar 2011.

Sorrow darkens Shui's eyes as the litany of damage.  The awful wound on Ash's leg is a stain on a living body - it ruins the perfection, affronts the eyes with its presence (through no fault of its owner).  Others aboard have similar stories and similar scars; it makes it no easier for the doctor to hear.  The things some people suffer in their work...but it would be rude, very rude, to speak of her feelings on the matter.

Even so, there are times she wonders if her family's way is the proper one, after all.

"I shall do a full scan on you, with what medical instrumentation the Profit Margin possesses," she murmurs.  A surprising amount, to tell the truth; Shui's predecessor believed in thoroughness and Shui herself has added to the mix during her time aboard.  She has sufficient equipment to probe beneath the surface, to check for long-term health issues stemming from injuries, to study the effect of the brutality of sentient beings upon the body of Ash Tescali.

The doctor sighs, scanning images of the injuries into her dataglove for the file.  "Proceed, Mr. Tescali.  I can see there is more to explain."  Bullet-wounds, easily as devastating as a laser despite their relative crudeness.  Shui possesses a slug-thrower - a snub-pistol.  At Jago's insistence she once purchased anti-armor rounds for it; they languish in a drawer of her desk, the weapon loaded only with tranqs.

Even then, she has to force herself to remember to carry it.

Ash nods to Shui's request to continue.  He pauses for a moment as debates briefly on where to go next.  Ash settled on burns and shrapnel on his left leg.  Pointing to them, he notes, "Fragmentation grenade.  Mid-1101."  He glances at Shui, "A counter-insurgency strike by the IISS to protect communications, Re: xBoats, and exploration assets near Biter in the Sword World Confederation.  Pro-Sword World rebels trying to disrupt the Lunion to Five Sisters route."  Ash doesn't feel compelled to dwell on whether the Imperium should have been in orbit above a Confederation like Biter; it was not his place:  then or now.  So, he merely continues, pointing to the small pockmarks further down the leg, and adds sheepishly, "Same ... er... defensive action - 12 gauge shotgun with buckshot and some light SMG fire."  Ash stares down at the old scars for a long moment, as if reliving a small piece of personal history, before continuing, "I'm a bit of a glutton for punishment, I guess."  Another sheepish, self-depricating smile.

The claw marks on his leg are next.  "Vargr. Corsair. It was mid-1094 and I was on an SDB stationed around Dentus in the Regina subsector."  Ash rubs the rough skin a bit, "It was good thing that the son of a bitch wasn't as good in microgravity as I was.  I...I got very lucky."  A small shudder as the navigator relives a fleeting, momentary, but obviously vivid memory.

Then he is on to scars on his arms.  Ash starts with the left arm, "The biggest knife wound, you have seen, Doctor."  He does hold it up for a closer, more prolonged, more clinical inspection, while continuing his narration, "Bar Brawl, my first tour with the IN.  I got that one during my second shore leave."  He rubs is the pinkish skin for a moment, "Say... early-1092 or so on Regina.  It hurt like hell when it went through.  And it still twinges every so often - so, there's probably some old nerve damage."  He twists the arm back and forth, noting, "Full range of motion in pronation, though - so, it's minor."

Ash points to a couple of other places on both forearms and hands, and notes off-hand, "There are others.  Most are superficial; none nearly as impressive as that first one."  Another glassy look, then that same sad smile, "Let's chalk those up to me and my section mates trying to impress women."  After a pregnant pause, Ash purses his lips knowing his quasi-attempt at humor is not really warranted.  With eyes downcast Ash notes, "Strike that, Doctor.  The truth is more likely that I was just a really poor drunk."  When he looks up at her, Ash adds quickly, "I don't drink any more, Ma'am."

He points to a couple of the smaller cut scars especially around the wrists and knuckles, "Some are from OCS training.  Most people get smart quick with live blade training."  Ash shakes his head, and notes darkly, "I guess I was never that smart or that quick.  Needless to say, I never quite got the handle on it."  He knows that Shui has seen his ability (or lack thereof) with blade first hand in the couple of days of class this week already.

Ash thrusts the shoulder with the plasma burns forward for the doctor to take a further look at, "As I noted before - plasma conduit."  He holds his arm in a rough approximation of the position that he believed he was in at the time.  And then points to a spot in space where the conduit leak was likely to have been.  A rough pantomime for her to see approximately what may have happened over a decade ago when Ash pulled his Naval crewmate to safety.  "The IN's tailored vacc suits saved both of our lives that day." explains Ash plainly.

He pauses as if trying to think of anything else to say.  "Ah," Ash quips as he remembers additional things.  "The last two are not very exciting."  He points to the small pinkish spots that were probably lesions of some sort, "A couple of years ago, I contracted Carmine's Pox out in the frontier in District 268.  The fever sucked, but the itching was almost unbearable."

Ash purses his lips as he got to the bottom of the laundry list:  the small claw marks on his forearms - both sides.  They scars are pretty fresh; at most, they are a year or two old probably.  "Armadillos." he notes flatly.  "Made a pretty good killing on them as a speculative cargo." Ash notes off-hand, then adds by way of explanation, "They aren't bad individually.... But twenty tons of them.  That was a lot to handle - sometimes the little blighters get aggressive."  He shrugs slightly and then stands quietly waiting to see what the good Doctor wants to do next.

The litany of blood continues.

Shui does her best to show interest as Ash describes the situation behind several, down to the people he killed to survive.  The stories leave her faintly nauseous - not from picturing gore (she has likely seen worse, it's part of the job), but from the thought of wars, of rebellions, of savage battles in close quarters.  Ash seems to find it vaguely embarassing, perhaps slightly amusing at times, certainly not at others.  A common enough attitude among those who fight, Shui has noted.

An interesting point comes up, and Shui meets his gaze frankly.  "I am quite certain you keep yourself shy of alcohol, Mr. Tescali," she states, no judgement in her tone.  "Given the amount of damage you have suffered, it seems the wise decision."  She has little doubt he speaks the truth - the medscan will detect any residuals if he has been hiding a habit, and he must know that.

Onward to training errors.  "I am hopeless with edged weapons myself, Mr. Tescali."  She knows her way around a laser scapel and even the sharp metal variety, but to fight?  No, never.

She continues to study each area in turn as he presents it, taking photos with the dataglove, remaining dispassionate.  There's an ugly book written on Ash's skin - as it is upon Yasmine's, upon Tylen's - and the only way she can make it through is by studying the exact meaning of every part of the story, rather than feeling the themes behind them.

Such terrible things her crewmates have suffered - scars to the body, mind and spirit.  Fighting...watching others die...killing...all leave marks, painful ones.

The long list finally ends with sickness and armadillo bites, of all things - fortunately in that order.  "A good thing the poor creatures that bit you were not infected with leprosy," she quietly notes, head down as she goes over her photos, her free hand shuttling them into order.  A nervous twitch, Shui realizes; the stories have unsettled her.  "Well.  Up on the table, please," she briskly requests, brushing off her discomfort.  "The scan is next followed by a small blood test - nothing much more needs to be done, save for a description of your diet.  I will be verifying it as best as I can as we travel."

Ash's brow furrows for a moment as Shui seems to pause for a moment when he finishes his laundry list.  Her hand seems to slip slightly causing the holographic images hovering above her dataglove to scatter for a brief moment.  His gaze just happened to settle on her at that moment, otherwise he would have missed it completely.  Ash also suspects that there was a frown on Shui's face, though he can't be certain.  I'm probably just projecting, he tells himself.  "Doc," he ventures tentatively a touch of worry creeping into his voice, "is something wrong?  Are you okay?"

Ash nods and moves towards the table as ordered, but his worried expression doesn't seem to ease up, "You're not working yourself to hard, are you Ms. Tiesi?  If you'd prefer to finish this later, we can. I am sure the scan can wait..."

Shui blinks.  Banishes her discomfort with a wave and a small, real laugh at her own foolishness.  "No, no, Mr. Tescali," she assures him.  "I find barely enough to occupy myself aboard the ship.  Hence, my near-obsessiveness with the coffee machine and cleaning dishes."

Following him, she keys in the proper sequence on her glove to interface with her scanning tools.  "I merely find it difficult at times to deal with the evidence of sentient beings' capacities to hurt one another.  This is no judgement, mind - I understand such things are situational, and quite frankly, the reasons are beyond my business." Picking up a tool, she checks the device, running a calibration sequence on it through her holo-controls, then sets it down on the desk, cocking an eyebrow toward Ash.

"I must apologize.  Certainly it is not a proper bedside manner."

Ash climbs onto the examination table as the Doctor describes her personal sensitivity to the lingering physical manifestations of willfully violent acts.  While he dismiss her apology by ignoring it and glossing over it, Ash can only agree with her about violence being incomprehensible sometimes.  "A sophont's inhumanity to another sophont is matched only by their inhumanity to themselves, sometimes.  It can be horrific." Ash notes flatly as he lays down, well, flat.

However, he doesn't completely agree with her about the motivations of such acts being beyond her judgment, "And while, I can understand your desire to divest yourself of the more destructive aspects of such a mindset, I can't help but think that as a physician you need to possess some particular insights into natures, types and limits that human body suffers in injuries."  He shrugs slightly as his eyes shift to regard Shui, and he adds, "I know that I would have a hard time divesting myself."  His lips twitch slightly into a rueful smile, "Probably why I am not a physician, though.  Far, far, from it."

"Admittedly, though," Ash muses aloud,  "it would be a shame for a person of your beauty and temperament to have it marred by injuries such as mine."  He reddens slightly as realizes what he just said, then adds hastily, "I ... I mean, I would gladly endure such things, so that others... like you, Doc... don't have to."  Then a little self-deprecating humor, "Best to concentrate such experiences in one place, right?  It's better than sharing them by spreading them out amongst many...."

"There is judgement and there is judgement," Shui notes, bringing her tools to the table. "One is clinical, listing causes and effects both short-term and long.  The other does the same, but is moral in nature."  She offers a lop-sided smile.  "I have a responsibility to deliver the former, and an equal responsiblity to close my mouth upon the latter." 

Reaching up, she adjusts the lights.  "My life is not the life of others.  My choices were not and are not their choices.  I have made errors -" terrible, terrible errors "- and am not quite so hypocritical or foolish to toss stones from the safety of my glass home."  Her smile softens a touch as she finishes.  "Your difficulty divesting yourself from such things might aid you as a physician, Mr. Tescali, though it would certainly make things difficult for your comfort level."

Faint sadness burgeons in her as Ash fumbles through his compliment, but she hides it perfectly, her head cocking slightly to the right, left brow arching.  "Mr. Tescali," the doctor mock-scolds.  "No flirting during examination.  Dangerous, given the tools."  She produces a small probe of some sort, holds it under his eyes, then slips it away.  Gravity replaces the amusement, and Shui studies Ash for a long moment before speaking.  "While I appreciate the offer in the spirit it is given, Mr. Tescali," she murmurs, "I would not wish such a gift."

But that is not enough - explanation is required.

Stepping back, she folds her arms, considering how to best put this to avoid hurt or offense.  "To say so is a testament to your character," Shui begins.  "And I do not doubt your sincerity.  But I will not accept a sacrifice of pain from someone to spare myself.  Nor should you offer, Mr. Tescali - Ash."  She nods her head, then waves her hands around her body.  "This...this thing and my temperment do not - and should not - absolve me from suffering the vicissitudes of an unkind universe.  Certainly not at the expense of heaping injury upon another."  Her voice remains soft and easy, gently offering her opinion rather than lecturing and rejecting.

"You are worth more than that, and I stand upon no pedestal."

"I wager there are those in the crew - yourself included - who would step in front of a bullet for me," she finishes.  "If I felt I had a better chance of saving them by doing so myself, rather than treating them or you after the fact, I would do the same."

The doctor sighs and runs fingers through her hair before snapping out her glasses and settling them into place.  "And so, I hope I have given no offense."  She shakes her head.  "Too serious by half, I was told as a child."

"Touché, Doctor." Ash notes agreeably, when she differentiates medical and moral judgments. "You are right that as a physician you need to differentiate the two.  As a soldier, I'll admit that I often was not allowed the luxury of making either of those judgments.  Sometimes they are supplied for you..."  A slightly rueful smile touches his lips and his eyes track the movements of Doctor as he lays there.

When she brandishes her wicked looking probe, Ash states meekly, "Yes, Ma'am.  Duly noted." He closes his eyes for a moment and utters a silent prayer to the fickle hand of Fate before opening his eyes again and swallowing hard.  Then Ash adds quietly and apologetically, "There were no flirtations intended, Doctor.  Honest.  Besides, I would not wish to step on the toes of Mr. Ogresh, in any case."

When Shui takes a step back to relate her personal feelings on other getting hurt for her, Ash purses his lips.  Obviously, what was meant as a simple, if gallant, gesture of personal loyalty, while accepted as one, has fallen flat on its face.  He can only really nod to her reasoning.  His throat has suddenly gone quite dry.  "Well, let's hope that it never comes to me taking a bullet for you or you having to treat me for doing so." Ash notes simply with only a touch of chagrin present.

His eyes flick towards the ceiling, as he looks away from her face and gaze, "And I would beg to differ about some being above the vicissitudes of the Universe.  I think that there are those, that we need to have there.  Those that we, and I mean 'we' in that generic sense, hold in high regard and feel compelled to protect."  His eyes dart back to Shui for a moment, before he continues, "It seems to me that the crew of the Margin feels that way about you, Doctor.  You don't sense that?"

A slight shrug hits his shoulders and his gaze moves back to the ceiling, "Otherwise, I suspect Life is not really worth living.  You need something... "  His voice trails off, but the measured exhalation from his chest makes it abundantly clear that he can't or won't say much more about it.

Relieved things have proceeded...honestly, as well as they possibly could given the uncomfortable nature of the discussion, Shui begins passing the instrument over Ash's body, slowly gathering information for her data glove.  Blood tests will follow.  "I would rather neither of us have the 'opporutunity' to receive a wound," she murmurs, somewhat distractedly.  "As for protection, and those we need to protect...such things are rather subjective." 

The doctor moves down to the pilot's feet. "Soldiers wish to protect medics because it is their duty and their lives.  Men wish to protect women because genetics drive them.  Women protect dependants for similar reasons.  Those carrying weapons sometimes wish to protect those who do not because they believe it necessary.  Those not carrying weapons sometimes wish to protect those who do from themselves."  She glances up, eyebrow again cocked.  "Many, many other reasons.  However, they never ask the universe 'is this necessary?', and rarely inquire the same of their chosen charge..."

Straightening, she studies the data flowing into her glove.  "I would rather people keep themselves alive - I am no more deserving and no less.  The best way one can help me is to survive, oneself.  I can only care for so many people at once." She looks away from the data to Ash.  "My opinion and choice, of course.  Others may not feel the same."

"That said," she continues, "I agree with you that we all need something in life, something to help us get up in the morning.  I do feel that one should choose such things carefully and, should they impact upon another, make inquiries as to whether or not such a choice is a welcome one."  She absently waves her hand at the door to her office.  "It is, of course, Ms. Crow and Mr. Orgesh's duty to protect the crew, myself included.  Similarly, it is my duty to offer succor and advice concerning health.  This cannot be questioned."

Pursing her lips, she stares into empty space.  "But I would not desire any to take a bullet for me, simply because I am 'me'."

Then a small smile twitches the corners of her mouth as she remembers one of his offhand comments, before things became serious.  "Mr. Orgesh, Mr. Tescali?"  The smile grows more bemused and she taps a finger on her chin.  "I suspect not.  A good man - a fine man, even," she corrects, "and one I am glad to know, but given my observations of him with others, I suspect his eye lies elsewhere." A laugh follows.  "Not to worry, Mr. Tescali - I was certainly not planning on filling out a harassment questionnaire for Captain Lanza to delete unread."

The doctor picks up a device, fits a small collector on the base.  "Blood test, Mr. Tescali.  My apologies, but this one will sting."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:07, Wed 06 Apr 2011.

Ash still looks up at the ceiling as the Doctor lists a small subset of the reasons for living, he nods, "But then would you or the Universe offer a different answer?  The same answer?  A better answer? Given the bullet to be taken, who should be hit?  Given the spectre of death, who's choice is it?"  Ash's eyes wander back to the Doctor, her scanner, and the dancing holographic display abover her dataglove, as he continues, "Who lives and who dies, Doctor?  We both answer that question from different sides of the experience."

His head turns slightly to bring his gaze back to the ceiling, "I do believe that the polite, erudite, medical practioner and connosieur of teas would be missed far more than the simple and ultimately forgettable son of Jewell shipyard dog, who happens to be able to astrogate pretty well."  He adds with a slightly bemused expression, "An opinion, that you won't begrudge me, I'm sure."

"Just as whatever helps you get up in the morning, does for you." Ash prompts, "No one could or would deny you that, right?"

"I was never the smartest, or fastest, or strongest growing up.  It was a fairly simple existence near the startown shipyards.  Very blue-collar." Ash notes matter-of-factly, when a passive, distant expression coming over his face.  "I was one of the few that can boast getting off of that treadmill.  I was 'lucky' - where luck is a word that is dependent on your point of view."  He shrugs slightly, "I always considered it 'good', but then I am living that life.  So, perhaps I am more than a little biased."

"I just wanted to escape having to follow in my father's footsteps, so much.  To not work the docks.  To break the cycle..." He glances at Shui, "Surely, you can relate to that, Ms. Tiesi?"  Another slightly rueful, slightly defiant smile, "It's why I travel.  I don't feel like there is a home to go to anymore.  Travelling seemed and seems infinitely more enjoyable..."

As Shui deflects his comment about Tylen, Ash realizes that he very much spoken out of turn.  The Darrian ex-Scout is a fine man, and has proven his loyalty to the crew (even new, unproven members, like ASh himself) many times over.  "Of course, Doctor." Ash intones discreetly, his eyes track the Doctor and her actions once again, "I'm sure that I am mistaken about Mr. Ogresh."  Only the tiniest iota of skepticism is detectable in his voice as a slight smile plays on his lips.

When the blood draw is mentioned, Ash merely nods, "Go right ahead.  I'm sure that I've experienced worse, Doctor.  Feel free..."

Verbal fencing, now. "For myself," she stresses, "choice being the key, Mr. Tescali," Shui remarks.  "Choice.  I would not have such sacrifices forced upon me by well-meaning people.  Just as what impells me to get up in the morning does not involve a choice I thrust upon others, beyond my duty."  She faces him directly.  "I rise in the morning for...."

So many things she could say here.  She could argue.  Put forward her point of view - hers alone, not one she would inflict upon another.  But Shui suspects it only lead to further fencing, further dragging them down the impossible road of conflicting philosophies.

Ash does not seem to be letting it go, himself.  And from the sharp edge in his smile...

Perhaps, the doctor considers, the conversation is getting under his skin.  As it has mine, Shui admits to herself.

Better to let it go.

"But your beliefs are your own, as mine are mine," she states, level-toned.  The doctor listens as he speaks, describing his youth, his 'luck'.  "So long as you enjoy your life, then why not use the word good to describe your luck?  It seems it should suffice."

Debating personal philosophy has gotten her in trouble with this crew before.  She has no desire to repeat the experience - most unpleasant as it was.   Ash has his beliefs, she has hers, and it seems their is little room for coexistence beyond an agreement that sometimes it's good to put distance between oneself and one's family.

She says as much - "I understand wanting something different than the family tradition, yes, else I would be home harvesting tea.  I am glad you have found an enjoyable vocation." - and, with Ash's permission given, finds a likely vein and removes a very small quantity of blood.  Enough for a test, nothing more.  The device seals the tiny wound itself with dermal-spray, and she slots the vial into another of her small, benchtop analysis machines.

"Done."

Even so.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:19, Thu 07 Apr 2011.

Ash exhales slowly as the blood is drawn from his arm.  He pauses for a moment and watches the Doctor work, and listens to her words.  She avoids conflict even in interaction, he notes to himself mentally, perhaps it is better that way.  With his eyes downcast, he states quietly, "I am sorry, Doctor.  Please forgive me."  He pauses for a moment as he looks up, "You are not an object, but a living breathing person.  One that rightfully has their own opinion - and I shall attempt to respect that next time there is gun play."  Ash purses his lips, "Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee that your desires for me not to be hurt on your account will be honored."  A crooked smile again, as he adds, "But I will try."

Ash sits up and tentatively pokes the extraction point admiring the dermal seal, "You were wrong, Ms. Tiesi.  It did not hurt at all."  He flexes his hand and then lets it fall on to his lap as he waits for a moment.

Sitting quietly on the table, he seems lost in thought for a couple of moments - he hadn't been forced to think about his parents and his childhood for a very long time.  "You do miss your family whereever they may be?" Ash ventures rather idly as he watches Shui transition to the next phase of the physical.  He adds as an afterthought, "You don't mind me asking you, do you?  I mean, you'd tell me if I was being too forward, wouldn't you?"  He isn't actually sure that she would, but what is said is said.  And Ash has given her a way out, even if it is heavy-handed and clumsy.  The doctor is truly an enigma to him.

"Hmmm...I do not recall you suggesting I was an object."  Shui frowns, her brow crinkling.  The argument - such as it was - is over, and she brushes it away.  "Heaven willing, we should not have to worry about anyone leaping in the paths of bullets for another...which would require some impressive reflexes and positioning, in any case."

She glances up from the blood-test equipment.  "I am, of course, glad to be wrong."  Then the doctor turns back to her work, studying the readouts as they come in.  Vitamin levels, blood sugar levels, chemistry, the search for signs of chronic disease...the numbers slowly begin to march across the screen, downloading simultaneously into her data-glove.

"Family..."  She doesn't glance up from the screen, not yet.  "The question is not an impertinent one, Mr. Tescali, not by any means.  My family and I have had our difficulties in the past - what family has not? - but I love them still."  Now she does look up, over her shoulder.  "Yes, I miss them."  All true.  She cannot live with them, cannot accept them, but...certainly Shui misses them.

"And you, Mr. Tescali?  Do you have family?  If so, do you correspond, if you do not mind me asking?"

"Only an object by inference," Ash notes with a slight chuckle, "As in an object d'art, something worthy of a pedestal."  He glances at Shui, "Of course, you refused to be placed on the pedestal, originally.  I only tried to say that some people who might not defend themselves are worthy of being defended."  Another crooked smile before continuing, "Or at least that was my original intent."

Ash merely shrugs when Shui asks him about his family, "Not at all, Doctor.  There's not much to say really."  He states quite openly, if matter-of-factly, "I'm an only child and I haven't spoken to my mother in a number of years.  She still lives on Jewell."  Ash doesn't note to the Doctor that he still sends a portion of his salary to his mother.  He purses his lips for a moment, wetting them and then says, "My father passed almost a decade ago."  Ash shrugs again before he adds, "Only a couple of months after my discharge from the IN.  I, uh, never got to attend the funeral service; I was too busy being shot at..."  Another slightly self-deprecating smile, as well as, the omitted details that Ash never opened the letter for several months after he received it nor ever considered to ask for leave with respect to the occasion.

"What about you?" Ash glances at Shui, "Are you able to correspond with your family with much frequency?  I know there are x-Boat mail drops often at our varied destinations, but do you and the rest of the crew utilize them often?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:33, Tue 19 Apr 2011.

Shui lets the first part of the conversation die - it's better that way.  Same ship, different worlds, though she understands his point of view.  He meant it as a compliment; it is hardly his fault she would not take it so.  Perturbing him with her thoughts and digressions will only make him more uncomfortable.

"I am sorry to hear about your lack of contact with your family.  Such things can be difficult, Mr. Tescali."  Something pings from her dataglove, and she checks one of the tests.  So far, so good.  "And my condolences on the loss of your father."  A loss in more ways than one, from the sound of it - there are things Ash isn't saying, and sometimes silence speaks volumes.

She can't know the details, but the generalities?  The situation between Ash and his parents was not amicable, and likely remains that way.

Then comes the expected question; fortunately, Shui has had time to come up with an answer.  "No, regrettably.  Very little contact with my family - but I said my goodbyes to them knowing full-well it would be difficult to keep up correspondence.  Better to remember them in happy times than as lonely phrases in a letter, once a year."  She smiles, taking some of the sorrow from her words.

Another ping.  "Well.  I have all I need, Mr. Tescali."  She taps the dataglove. "Now I only require some time to analyze and compile the results - they should be sufficient.  Thank you for your patience - both in dealing with the tests, and lasting this long with me struggling to set up an appointment." 

Ash gives Shui a small non-committal shrug as he remains on the table's edge.  "Same as with your family," the navigator notes, "My mum knows that I love her.  And that communications can be lacking sometimes."  All true, and not all of the truth - Ash knows that the Doctor is perceptive enough to suspect something.  He would expect no less from a woman of her intelligence and education.

He steps down onto the cold floor and pads over to the chair with his clothes, as Shui's demeanor and speech essentially dismisses him, "Of course, Doctor."   Ash begins to slowly put his clothes on, "I'll let myself out.  Please let me know if you have any additional questions or need any additional information."

Ash presumes that the dietary talk will come soon enough.  But, understandably, Shui will want to take a look to see if his personal physiology will require any special needs or if there is anything anomalous or amiss with his body chemistry before discussing specifics.  He zips up his coveralls, buttoning the sleeves again.  "There is no need to apologize with respect to scheduling, Doc." Ash notes as he shrugs on his duster after strapping his blade back onto his thigh.  Another slight smile, as he clears his throat quietly and then adds, "I know that you are doing your best.  Besides it takes the two of us to make a disconnect of that proportion ..."  Of course, he knows that Shui is aware that he is not merely talking about the appointment time.  He takes his teacup, which he had placed off to the side, and hands it back to Shui.

Then Ash moves to the door and pauses for a moment at the threshold; his tone is quiet, but also genuine and slightly reverent, "Thank you, Ms. Tiesi."

OOC - I'm SOOO late with this.  Sorry.  :(

IC -

Obviously something is wrong with Ash's familial situation, far more than he's letting on.  Then again, the same is true for her own, and Shui is reticent to talk about such things.  If Ash wishes to discuss his issues, she's more than happy to lend an ear, but prying would be hypocriscy.  And, from the look of it, unwelcome.

Ash himself seems prepared to finish and leave.  Shui thinks she feels a hint of strain in the air - perhaps it's her imagination, of course, but the process hasn't exactly gone well.  It isn't until the end that she receives confirmation, in the form of an oblique reference to their discussion.  The doctor lets out a small sigh; at least it's out in the open, now.

"You are most welcome, Mr. Tescali," she replies to his thanks.  "And thank you for your patience."  She twiddles her thumbs for a moment, unaccountably nervous, then rolls her shoulders, loosening them.  "Conflicting viewpoints notwithstanding," the doctor notes, "I am pleased to have you aboard."

Another crooked smile crosses Ash's lips as he stands on the threshold to the room.  He glances back at Shui and inclines his head in a genuine gesture of respect and humility. "Thank you for saying that, Miss Tiesi." he notes quietly, "It's been a while since someone told me something like that.  I'm glad to be aboard the Margin and amongst her distinguished crew."

"Have a good evening, Doctor.", Ash ventures as turns to he walk down the hall and back to his quarters to likely sit and read for a bit.