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Qessyn hesitated, closing her eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she sighed and shook her head.

“No. As far as I’m concerned, he made his every choice of his own free will. What happens to him is no longer our concern.”

Admittedly…it would be nice to not have to live in fear anymore. Though she felt a tinge of guilt, she did her best to brush it off.

Clearing her throat, she shuffled a bit. “I realize these circumstances are…a bit awkward. But um. Qessyn. Dr Qessyn Vrayaka. Trauma surgeon at Vraacoi Memorial Hospital.”

The Niakanu stood, making a few notes on the device in his hand.

"Qessyn Vrayaka, yes I remember you. Karda Senenol. We met at a medical conference about a year ago, concerning the ianthim release, the transfusion aid."

"Safe to say I didn't expect to run into you again, unless perhaps I ended up on your operating table."

He crouched again to haul the unconscious alien over his shoulder.

"And I can promise you, this one won't be causing anyone any trouble after tonight."

He paused.

"Is a bloody nose all the damage he dealt you?"

valtsv

"unrepentant" is one of my favorite things to be. "don't you feel bad about what you did" no lol

valtsv

"how do you not feel guilty. or ashamed." chose not to ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

#Musings

Chur’nus was an asshole, but he was no fighter. He wielded the knife clumsily, only managing to get in a lucky shot before going rigid, his body going limp after a few moments and the knife slipping from his grasp.

Qessyn’s own tail thrashed, as she looked at the Zechitanian laying motionless on the ground. “Is…he…?”

She looked at Karda, gasping softly. “You’re injured…I’m so sorry. It’s because of me…”

She leaned in to get a look at his arm. “Thank you for defending me. I realize we don’t know each other, but you helped me regardless. If there’s any way I can repay you…”

Touching. But her worry was unnecessary. He glanced down at the sliced sleeve and cut forearm, and felt himself more aggravated about the coat than the injury.

“It won't even need stitches. Don't concern yourself,” Karda said, already pulling away and crouching to roll the unconscious alien onto his back. He pulled a small device out of one pocket and started scanning his head. It flickered with data and his tail gave an interested flick, the mint green fins fluttering gently.

He looked back to her.

“Repay me with this information: do you or your family care at all what might happen to this man next?”

Chur’nus looked taken aback; as if he were unaccustomed to being told “no”.

“I don’t think I heard you right,” he said, his voice wavering in anger, “she is coming with me.”

Qessyn glared. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Chur’nus. Not now, not ever again.”

The mask was starting to slip from the Zechitanian, and his smile grew crooked. “You think you can just walk away from me? ME? I am one of Zechitania Prime’s preeminent neurosurgeons. I get what I want, and I get it when I want it. And I say that you’re MINE. You hear me? MINE!”

As he was speaking, he was quietly reaching behind his back; which Qessyn noticed. Eyes widening, she shrieked in alarm. “KNIFE!”

It took all Karda's willpower not to roll his eyes as the asshole launched into a tangent. Sounded like someone's parents never told their little shitbag of a kid that you don't always GET what you want… Especially not on Sigma Rhada, ESPECIALLY if you weren't local. Karda could name a few gangs that would eat this fucker for breakfast.

But at the moment he had a knife to worry about.

Karda lunged just as he saw the metal glinting in the street light, seizing at the man's wrist to try and keep the knife under control. In the tangle of limbs and press of bodies, he got in a lucky shot, but the surgeon only gripped him tighter as pain lanced up his arm. In the next heartbeat, Chur’nus went rigid, eyes wide as the Niakanu's electricity shot through his system.

@sharpfins from here

Qessyn was glad to run into someone familiar, at least.

It had all happened so fast. There had been a knock at her apartment door, and when she went to answer it, there was the last person she ever expected to see again; her ex, Chur’nus, a Zechitanian.

He’d practically demanded that they get back together, ignoring any and all attempts for Qessyn to shut down the conversation, and when she refused one too many times, he’d struck her. Hard.

Her bloody nose was a testament to his cruelty.

“HIM!” She cried and pointed, trembling behind the person she’d met at the medical conference. “H-He’s trying to force me to go with him!”

Chur’nus drew himself up, and smiled coldly. “I’m so sorry you got involved in this, friend. I’m just trying to take my girlfriend back to the safety of Federation space where she belongs.”

“I am NOT his girlfriend!”

His face seemed to twitch in annoyance, but he tried to keep his cool. “Sweetie, be reasonable. This is no place for you. You can never make it out here. What would your father think?”

Qessyn glared. “My family already KNOWS I’m here, you jerk. And they already know about YOU!”

Another twitch. “I can change their minds.” He took a step closer.

He knew where this was going. Karda was no knight in shining armor. If he stepped aside, the woman was going to end up dead in an alley somewhere before morning, her and at least ten others across the city. Same as every night. That's just how it was.

... but the longer the surgeon examined her antagonist, he became aware of a few differences in his biosignature... differences that aligned with someone having implants or prosthetics. Ah, he had something to gain from helping after all.

He put himself further between the two of them, one hand out towards the man in warning.

"She's not going with you. She's made herself clear," he said slowly. "I advise you to walk away and forget whatever it is you have in mind."

It wasn't the Niakanu's claws he had to be careful of, but the electricity he'd fry him with if he dared come within grabbing distance of either of them-- but only enough to knock him out. Karda wasn't going to risk damaging the implants inside his body.