Quen took the bottle and disguised the fact that he wasnâ€™t actually drinking any of it by turning his back to her. He peeled the suit away and lifted the bottle to his mouth a second time, only tasting the barest velvety burn before he sat next to her. He was still careful; she had still proven that she could kill him without a weapon. And without the chimp, he couldnâ€™t run the med-bot either, so she was right. Itâ€™d be good old fashioned stitches and heâ€™d need at least a little of it to try to stave off an infection.<br/><br/>Why did he care about that? Because she had saved his life when it could have been at the cost of her own. Because if she had just refused to come out, he would be dead right now and sheâ€™d be alone, free to plan out how to get off the ship herself.<br/><br/>If things had been different, they might have been friends. Only, he didnâ€™t want to think too much about that. What could have been different? If things had been different, it was more likely that they would have never met at all, wasnâ€™t it? After all, the empire was a very large place, with countless people in it.<br/><br/>Not really countless. The chimp could have told him exactly how many people were in it. He tried hard not to laugh again, and snorted hard enough that he hurt himself.  â€œIf you werenâ€™t under arrest, I could kiss you. Thank you though.â€<br/><br/>If things had been different and they had still met, would he like her at all? Sure she was constantly insulting him. Sheâ€™d attacked him and couldnâ€™t seem to say two words to him that were entirely serious. And she had a mouth that would make any dock worker red with jealousy.<br/><br/>Then again, life had certainly not been boring these past few hours. When was the last time he could say that for it?<br/><br/>Not sinceâ€¦ since just a few days before his fifteenth birthday. Heâ€™d gotten eleven slugs and a hummer â€“ Corps kid slang for the slow moving transports like his familyâ€™s own ship and the quicker moving personal starships. Theyâ€™d finally given him his marksmanâ€™s certification then; one of very few to get theirs before seventeen. No one else in his age-group had managed to down more than six, and none at all had gotten the fast ones.<br/><br/>He remembered marveling at the three suns and endless questions to his instructors about how any planet in a system like that could have life in the first place.<br/><br/>The silence he lapsed into was uncomfortable to him. What now, he wanted to ask. But to who? He didnâ€™t have an answer and neither would she. By now he thought sheâ€™d probably say something along the lines of â€˜drop me off somewhereâ€™ or offer a sarcastic bite about dragging her in front of a judge.<br/><br/>Could he do that to now? Quen knew very well that turning her in was as good as a death sentence. That had been okay when she was a dangerous criminal wanted in twenty-three places for the same number of high crimes. Now she was a woman that had saved his life. He was having a difficult time reconciling them as the same person.