The little shuttle the two of you had been able to commandeer was meant for much shorter trips (ie to a planets surface and back and not much else) then the deep space the two of you needed to cross. So you where left with little option but to sell the thing at the next port and get a new one. Fortunately with the shuttle being from an hospital ship it had a plethora of medical supplies on hand that could be used for trade as much as it pained you. You knew whatever war, what ever rebellion you and your mate where headed too would probably need all the medical help they could get, but what help was a trained combat medic and her solder mate to a rebellion if they couldn’t get to the action so you suck it up and start sorting things into ‘trade’ and ‘keep’ piles. Its an exhausting task, and by the end of the day you have a decent amount set aside for trading that your sure the two of you can use to get a decent sized cruiser with hopefully warp capabilities and a decent nav system.
The port the two of you land at is a weary of two trolls as could be expected; your fleet did just wipe out two planets two solar systems away. You also make an intimidating pair; both your clothes a mix mash of military garb and civy clothing found on your travels mixed with the protective air you both hold over the other in an alert wery stance one only gains from having to defend ones self for years on end. The crowds have a habit of avoiding your in that kind of way
Neither of you even suggest splitting up, even though it would be must faster and lessen the danger of being spotted as fugitives, the two of you still so over protective of the other after all the time apart. You get a good sum of money from the medical equipment, and mixed together with what the two of you got from the shuttle you are able to procure a decent sized ship with some left over. Your happy it has an actual medbay with lights and a table, your mates happy with the actually interstellar navigation system after having to go by star maps for months on end. The bigger bed is a plus too. It takes both of you almost no time at all to load up what you have broughten from the old shuttle, mostly the med supplies and troll only living requirements, before you decide that yes you do have to go and buy food no ration packets are not a thing that the two of you are gonna live off of for the rest of ever.
Clothes are also a thing that is needed; hes still wearing blood stained pants and your uniform feels too heavy on your back like a weight of a past you desperately want to leave behind. So after general supplies and tools your shoveling him into the clothes clothing store for organisms your size. He gives you a lost look, and you realize for the first time that he hasn’t had control over anything especially his appearance since hes left your home world. You haven’t really ether, uniforms a uniform, but its nothing like his chopped hair and clipped ears. So you approach it more gently, because you are not going to have him in bloody clothes any longer after all the two of you risked to get out of that life, so you help him go through what they have. Your horrible at it, even before medical uniforms you where bad at anything relating to clothes (bless Bat Dad and his joy of dress up). You yourself had gotten rid of your boots the moment you could, no shoe had ever been comfortable on your overly calloused flat feet. He had as well, but it had taken him much longer then you and you chalked it up to the mind games they had messed him over with and let him do it on his own time. You also want out of your ranked clothes, and find a few plan black tops and a small roll of fabric in your blood color, figuring you can put your symbol on them later if you want. By the time Zios ready his selection is about as small as yours, but its enough.
The two of you don’t stay in port much longer, its too risky, but after you’ve made a good distance and the auto pilots been set you drag him to take advantage of the first real shower the two of you have seen in weeks. Its small and the water doesn’t get too hot but the two of you manage, ether way his wounds still need to be properly cleaned and for the first few minuets the water runs blue from the dried blood. (And other colors too, that’s been trapped in both of your hair from your escape and maybe even before. But neither of you talk about that.) Your careful with him again, not just because of the still healing wounds around stitches and staples but because your not used to the way he looks at you so vulnerable like this. Its like hes ashamed of his body, all his new scars and there stories and what hes done to get them. You have your own share too, but not like this. Even when you had mostly ones from all the times when you had killed and eaten trolls before you ever meet him feel so pale in emotional comparison to these. So you wash his hair, and his wounds and his face. You press into him and kiss him gently, on his cheeks, on his clipped ears on all his new scars. You still love him, you never stopped and this doesn’t change that. You think he understands it, as hes washes your mane of hair and teases you about how much longer its gotten, at least you hope he does. Things are getting better you can tell, and it’s a long rode before your home.
