<div class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeQuote" data-author="Nightarcher">
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<div class="attribution type">Nightarcher said:
				
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<blockquote class="quoteContainer"><div class="quote"><span style="color: sienna">“Yeah, see.  If I had known that I would have not argued as much.  I still think keeping any parts of these things is just asking for trouble.  But I can’t think of anything else for security purposes.”</span>  She sighed before just moving to starte by pulling one of the indicated containers out of the shelf and put one on the table that Milenya had been telling her to.  Kala only grunted a little bit at the weight.  It wasn’t the heaviest thing she had ever had to carry, being an engineer and all.<br/>
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But listening to everything else Milenya saying, and she decided to lean against the nearest wall.  <span style="color: sienna">“Xeno-medic?  Doesn’t that usually mean all the races besides your own?”</span>  but hey, she was an engineer, she had no clue how close the biology of some of the races were to each other.  Asari and human hand the same basic shape as far as she could tell.<br/>
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But she watched where the woman put the ‘samples’ before what she said next.  Kala just froze a moment as she watched Milenya move back father into her private quarters area.  It was impossible for her not to connect the slightly bashful look in her face when she was biting her lip, to the queston about helping.  The fact that blood rushed to her face proved what she was thinking.  And the fact that she started stammering a little, and seemed to run her eyes over the asari.  <br/>
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She was obviously applying a stereotype to Milenya that Taseer and just looking at Ashana had re-enforced.  <span style="color: sienna">“I… uh… I don’t think you… need my help for that…”</span>  If what Milenya worn under her ‘armor’ was compared to what most people wore, she had reason to be a bit shy.  It usually was quite form fitting, left little to the imagination.</div><div class="quoteExpand quoteCut">Click to expand...</div></blockquote>
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</div>Milenya watched Kala out of the corner of her eye, nodding in response to the question.<span style="color: #6495ED">"I sometimes found it comforting, when I felt... stressed, to be in close proximity to Ve..., uh, another person. Today has been a very stressful day. There are stretches of time that I'm only half-aware of. If it were not for Ashana, I do not think I would have made it out of there."</span><br/><br/>She noted the engineer's embarrased reaction, and mild discomfort; she didn't push the invitation, instead beginning to unstrap and wriggle out of her armor. In the private space, there was no direct line of view to the commons, so she didn't slide the partition door closed. She hoped that the engineer wouldn't flee before she got more comfortable clothes on. Unlike Ashana and perhaps Taseer, Milenya did not make a point of displaying herself as she stripped.<br/><br/><span style="color: #6495ED">"Perhaps multi-species would be a better designation. I'm certified to help with injuries for most known species, though there is little I can do for Hanar and even less for Volus. It was part of my training when I tried to become a commando. That phase of my life didn't last long, perhaps two years when I was barely sixty. But I did retain the knowledge, and later expanded upon it. That was the pattern of my life for a long time, really. Develop an interest, pursue it for a while, then drop it when I realized it wasn't what I wanted to do."</span><br/><br/>She half-turned her back to Kala as she began to peel herself out of the undersuit, her graceful body and bare, soft blue skin exposed as she tugged it off. Soft hisses escaped her when she pulled her left arm out of its sleeve. By the time the undersuit was hanging from her hips, it was clear Milenya was naked underneath. Even though she'd escaped major injury, there were still faint, darker blotches on her skin indicating numerous small bruises, and faint lines where the clamshell of the armor had dug into her skin. At the small of her back, just above the cleft of her buttocks, there was a discreet tattoo. All swooping curves rising into an elegant oval, it looked like some kind of corporate logo, surrounded with asari lettering. Milenya had apparently escaped a Maiden's propensity for tattooing her back, though.<br/><br/><span style="color: #6495ED">"Then I discovered the Protheans. Not their culture, but their technology. Even the hints that we have of their understanding of physics, of biology, lead to ever more elegant solutions. Mastering what we know of them... it requires understanding a great deal. Some of their technology was designed to interact intimately with their physiology, with their minds, their nervous systems. If I were to break down the requirements for my doctorate, I would have several additional degrees in physics, material science, electrical engineering, biochemistry and neurochemistry."</span><br/><br/>Milenya smiles wryly over her shoulder at Kala.<span style="color: #6495ED">"I sometimes feel overeducated. I suppose that's why I learned to fly shuttles and maintain them. There's nothing like wrangling with a stubborn stabilizer module or fuel line pump to bring your thoughts down to ground."</span><br/><br/>She kneels and opens one of the bunk's drawers, pulling out a clean singlet, looking like a combination piece of shorts and tanktop of thin cloth. Stepping into it with a dancer's grace, she begins pulling it up her legs.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>