Familiar Taste of Poison

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Lorna had expected that any easiness that had existed between the Director and her would evaporate when she would bring the neck issue up, especially if as she was proven correct, meant Van-Derveld had ignored the mandatory checkup.

There were lots of ways the doctor could have reacted to the ice cold venom that came her way. She had several options for equally dry and acerbic retorts on the tip of her tongue; but she realized quick enough they would be useless. She would only be wasting both their times, and in a way she wondered whether the Director would rather have that than getting medical attention.

Even though she meant to help people, and had left the Empire due to their disgusting views on certain group of living beings, they had nevertheless taught her that people you helped might just want to tear you a new one.

She stared stoically at the Director's rant, knowing that the quicker she were done, the faster she could give her options available.

Silence didn't make her a doormat.

And having her title used as some weapon wasn't working. Given how much she had worked her ass off and even put her life on the line to gain it, she wore it as a badge of honor regardless.

But good try, Van-Derveld...

As the brunette had pointed out, others had failed before her. That was on them.

Eventually, the Director was done with her tirade and headed inside the room. That was when Lorna took her next step, much to the two engineers' shock further in the hallway.

The blonde blocked the door shutting into her face, and she stood in the frame, not caring what others might say.

"You have two options, Director. Either you come with me to the medbay and get your neck treated there, or I take care of it here and now."

She stared at Van-Derveld, not giving her room to respond just yet.

"Yes your muscles can take a few days to ease, and work themselves back to normal on their own; but you must have two to three cervical vertebrae displaced at the moment, and likely a few tendons."

She could say more, but keeping it straight to the point was her best bet with the stubborn brunette.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace's stance stiffened at the realization that she was not rid of her medical pest when DeLaTour's voice resounded through the room, and not even three feet away. The woman had the audacity to follow the director into her bunk and lecture her! There was only one being in the known galaxy that had that right and Doctor Lorna DeLaTour was not Belargic. Two for Grace's not quite daughter but counted since she were a Belargic too. Regardless Lorna was not on the list, nor would she ever be.

"You have two options, Director."

"Are you bloody insane?" she snapped back, hoping to curb the list of options but Lorna kept on going as if Grace said nothing.

She viciously turned around, eyes matching the venom that would have been in her voice if not for the sharp pain that shot down her neck and curved along her left shoulder. The only indication that there was any pain was the tight clench of neck muscles that easily doubled as anger towards DeLaTour overstepping her boundaries.

It didn't matter if Lorna was completely correct in her assessment of Grace's injury. The director was not going to medical for an unnecessary evaluation and under no circumstances would she allow the doctor the rest of the way inside for a house call.

"Or option three - you go to med and keep us on time, because like hell I'll be late for our debriefing on something I can fix, as you just said, on my own." She took two steps forward to close the distance and got right up in Lorna's face, maintaining eye contact. "So back off and play humanitarian elsewhere, Doctor."

The two engineers decided to slowly move backwards, not wanting to walk into that vipers nest but not so fast that they couldn't overhear ...

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Whatever made Van-Derveld so irate at the thought of going through basic medical checkups likely indicated something in her history that made her uncomfortable at the perspective of being touched. While Lorna was too busy getting the Director to cooperate at the moment, she would eventually ponder on it later.

Yes, she had been called insane before. And it was irrelevant to the situation at hand.

She caught the tighter clench of neck muscles. She had been observing Van-Derveld like a space hawk at this point.

Once again, she took the verbal venom spat in her face. It would be too easy, even though it was damn tempting, to just argue back; but Lorna denied that to the Director.

She didn't move when Van-Derveld surprisingly closed the distance between them. It wasn't that the doctor had issues with being so close to another woman, who happened to have looks and brains, but she was on a mission and nothing would derail her from it.

"Option four, I pull rank on you, Director, as the medical officer of this mission."

The debrief hadn't occurred yet, so she was still within her right to operate as such. She knew Van-Derveld could say a lot of shit that would bury her somewhere in the Alliance, and she might be stuck on Jovan for years to come; but Lorna wasn't known to take the easy road. She took her oath to provide medical assistance very seriously, and even a hard-headed and disturbingly stubborn high rank wasn't enough to sway her.

She held the Director's gaze, refusing to step back, with her hand still firmly on the door.

She meant every word she had said, and if the Director had any understanding of how she operated, she'd know the doctor wasn't bluffing.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Few physicians called her out like this and when they did, Grace made her position clear, like now, that left little room for argument. Her injury was painful, but it didn't require immediate care. Sore muscles and misalignments were minor annoyances that came with the position and were easily mended. She popped in her own damn shoulder back into place on a field op for Force sake and splinted it, only acquiescing to Belargic in order to get a scan to make sure nothing was broken. After that, Grace pushed the medical droid's scanner arm away and tended to her injury while grounded since there was no break. Now Lorna was equating the current neck injury on that scale and it was ludicrous. There were more important battles to martyr herself with than going nose to nose with Van-Derveld. She needed to back down like the others before her and leave her be.

Admittedly if she weren't furious with the doctor, Grace would be impressed by Lorna's resilience in standing her ground and not biting back so it was a one way argument. Not forcing a shouting match, which the director wanted because it was easy for her then to admit she needed help, took a lot of control.

Then the unthinkable happened - Lorna threatened to pull rank. Grace couldn't help how her eyes widened at this change of events because no doctor had ever challenged her like this. She regrouped and opened her mouth to counter, but then realized she couldn't. They weren't dismissed and both of them retained all of the responsibilities as officers for the Cona operation until after the debriefing because Grace had the bright idea of making Lorna her second to facilitate the flow of information. It meant that Lorna retained full capacity as lead physician and had the authority to hand down orders to the director for medical necessities.

As poignantly as her hatred of this situation was, Grace wouldn't have changed her call. Lorna desperately needed priority access to efficiently perform her duties and making her second in command was the right thing to do. It immediately saved hundreds of lives and would surpass thousands as the week progresses. But the damnable woman was overstepping her bounds over a neck pain and has firmly became a pain in the neck herself.

Though how different was this compared to what Grace had done during the op? The severities were vastly different but the means and results were the same. Grace cut through red tape with her override clearance code to get power back in the lab. She was determined to save lives and didn't care about the consequences. The slap on the wrist by the Admiral and Cona's support proved she was right. No where near as detrimental, Lorna was acting similarly as healing beings was her passion regardless if it were a scrape of a knee to cardiac arrest. Lorna's file highlighted her accomplishments as a xenobiologist, but it was Lorna's determination and quick thinking under prior stressful relief missions that swayed the director in choosing her, trusting in her gut. And now the doctor's stubbornness was staring her down and Grace knew she wouldn't back down.

Fuck.

She relaxed her posture but her gaze was still heatedly affixed to Lorna's. "This doesn't go on record." The venom was retracted but not the edge. Grace was making it clear that she agreed under protest. Only with that confirmation would she step back and allow Lorna entrance.

The last thing she needed on record was proof that Doctor Lorna DeLaTour was given permission to examine her. There would be no precident set.

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Part of Lorna found it ridiculous to have to pull rank on the Director, especially for what should have been a non-issue. Post mission checkups, or any regular basic medical examination, should be no big deal. And maintenance medical care also prevented further injury or buildup that might cause avoidable issues down the line. It was easier for all parties involved, and much safer for patients.

If Van-Derveld had had a crick in the neck in regular and stress-free circumstances, it would have also be less of a thing to attend right away. Yet Lorna had been on Cona along with the Director, and they had spent enough time together for the medical doctor to witness the brunette's growing exhaustion and extra stress she had put on herself. Even though she could understand it was minor compared to what she had likely got on more physically demanding field assignments, it was no reason to brush it over.

For what the blonde had seen since reuniting with Van-Derveld at the mess, it wasn't getting better, and could be taken care of within minutes. And as a medical officer, Lorna wasn't the kind not to provide assistance when needed, even when the patient wanted to toss her across the room like a pissed of Trandoshan and grumpy Wookiee had done to her in the past, putting Van-Derveld still close enough behind them on the list.

Lorna knew she was taking a gamble for her career by standing up to the Director, but if she had wanted the easy road, she wouldn't be where she was now.

So be it, Van-Derveld.

She was dead set on getting the Director to get her neck handled, whether by herself or by other medical personnel, but she still noticed the shock on the brunette's face when she pulled rank. Apparently, it was some whole new level of insanity; but Lorna was no stranger to such things.

When the Director gave her condition to agree to Lorna's decision, the blonde nodded firmly.

"Deal. This will not go on record."

She was a woman of her word, and really she didn't care about talking about that whole thing, as long as the Director let her neck be taken care of.

Lorna knew she still had like ten minutes before having to show up to the nearby med bay, but as a medical officer, she knew about the procedure, and had already most information on hand and pre-filed questionnaire answers she knew she would face, to expedite the whole process, for she had already known about the upcoming debrief.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

DeLaTour was a woman of integrity and would not go back on her word. Nor would she hold this incident against the doctor. Grace was not the kind of person to make others lives difficult out of spite and her report would exemplify the stellar work done on Cona.

She acknowledged Lorna's confirmation with a curt nod and stepped aside to allow entrance. Once Lorna was inside, she closed the door and focused on breathing to decrease the tension brought on by what was going to happen next. Grace willingly agreed to being examined but it didn't stave off the rush of anxiety that always accompanied it.

As long strides help her quickly move to the living area, Grace focused on her breathing - exhaling the apprehension away as her mind could compartmentalize as much of the fear as possible. She was more than likely going to have a physical response once hands were on her - increased heart rate, subtle tension in her muscles, quite possibly a rush of danger that usually was a boon in the field, or a slight tremor in the hands. It was difficult to say if all or some would be triggered but she was relying on DeLaTour's professionalism to realize questioning her on these symptoms were off limits. The symptoms were not as pronounced as she had decades to work through the initial trauma but medical procedures, no matter how minor, easily set her off. Her theory was the thorough examination the Rebellion performed on her upon recruitment and the relief that she was not pregnant was so overpowering had tipped her over the edge, breaking down in a violent sobbing fit on the cart. Most of the doctor's findings were seal for good along with a great many classified missions and personal abilities that remained untapped.

Grace never wanted to feel so helpless ever again and it turned into this - an unhealthy backlash of pent up rage and guilt that she forced herself to work through. And she would never fall prey to the power that pumped through her blood. There was so much pain in her life that it would be too easy to fall into madness like her brother.

Without pretense, she sat down on one of the more comfortable cushioned chairs and tied still damp hair up into a bun to allow ease of access for the doctor, waiting with her back towards her, posture impeccable, and remained silent.

[Lorna DeLaTour]

While Lorna hadn't hesitated to challenge the Director, she nevertheless remained respectful and didn't step inside the quarters until she was allowed to. There was a fine line between standing up for what you deemed important and being a jerk. The blonde had been on the wrong end of the latter enough times to know that, and watch her behavior. Yet she wasn't going to apologize for being assertive in her decision to pull rank on the stubborn Van-Derveld, regardless whether the brunette wanted to tear her a new one at this point.

She followed the Director into the living area, noting how the other woman's breath changed. While full-blooded Lorrdian had acquired outstanding skills at reading body language, which had to do with the history of enslavement they had suffered from centuries ago, the blonde didn't possess it as well. Yet her medical training had made up for this genetic and cultural lack, and she had become very skilled at reading people's behavior. The Director was growing more and more uncomfortable, even though she was doing an overall damn good job at hiding it.

Ever professional, Lorna took in those subtle signs without saying a word about it. Whether Van-Derveld thought she didn't notice them was up to her. Lorna wouldn't ask intrusive questions, unless it was a life or death situation, which it wasn't.

Lorna put her backpack down in the living area, and used hand sanitizer out of habit, even though a neck massage was a really simple procedure. She was glad that the uniform the Director was wearing was practical enough that she could do the required manipulations without issue.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she saw the Director pull her hair up, appreciating the gesture.

As she raised her hands to place them upon the brunette's shoulders, she briefly paused out of politeness.

"I'm going to begin. It should take 5 to 10 minutes."

Then she laid her hands down and began to directly assess the crick and the displaced cervical, as well as a slight wronged angle at the collarbone.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace heard Lorna shuffling inside and a familiar plop of a bag being set down and opened. The anticipation was grueling, every second her heart beating faster. She immediately returned to slowing her breath and not the blood pounding prominently throughout her body, chest threatening to clench violently which meant adrenaline would surge soon. Every exhalation Grace tried to keep it from bursting into a full blown panic attack, forcing it to simmer just on the surface.

Lorna's voice sounded so loud in the quiet room, a side effect of the director's escalating anxiety. Despite the pain, Grace forced a glance over her shoulder and gave a curt nod of acknowledgement to at least offer appearances of normalcy. Then she looked away and debated between closing her eyes or keep them open and focus upon a object. The lamp she knocked over earlier and returned to the nightstand was the choice and Grace set hands atop her thighs and squeezed, forcing them to remain still as she could feel the doctor's presence looming closer. She braced for the intrusive jolt and stiffened with surprise. Grace had presumed with how opposed the director was to this Lorna would complete her task without a word and provide whatever assessment after she was done. She was wrong as the heat from the doctor's hands were mere inches away from their target, but there they hovered.

Lorna continued to be professional but also kind. She didn't have to be the later considering Grace's behavior but it was silently appreciated none-the-less. Having a detailed amount of time that hands were going to be on her helped lessen her fears. It was a small sense of of empowerment that Lorna accidentally gave the director. The grip on her pants loosened and Grace began to count the seconds as she gave another curt nod of acknowledgment.

Unfortunately she couldn't prevent her neck and shoulders immediately tightening at first touch. The injury was partly to blame, but so was the need to run away from the doctor. She could picture herself roughly getting to her feet, grabbing the doctor, her gear and throwing her out.

Instead she was the model of outward perfection, sitting like a good patient despite her entire body revolting against fingers that wanted to heal, not harm her. She just had to keep reminding herself of that fact as Grace continued to count ...

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Regardless of how she had butted heads with the Director regarding the issue with her neck, Lorna saw no reason to be anything except professional with the brunette. She knew when to stand her ground, but she also firmly believed in providing humane care, regardless of how minor or life-threatening he situation was. She had been called many names over the years, but she didn't care if it had anything to do with her work ethic, for she knew she did her best. If people had issues with it, so be it. She was not going to start mistreating patients, or being rude to them, to assuage some pompous asshole's insecurities, as she had seen many on all sides of the Cold War, even when she wanted to believe it was mostly an imperial issue.

And the signs of anxiety she had noted only prompted her to be kinder, albeit in a discreet fashion. She would not address what she saw, so her genuine professionalism allowed her to provide care without appearing to ensure the Director was alright.

She felt the tension flare up as soon as she rested her hands on Van-Derveld. She didn't comment on it though. She carried on assessing the situation, although she noted that the brunette then proved perfectly still and quiet.

She easily got confirmation of what she had expected by observation, along with a few more tendons that needed to be rolled back into appropriate position. She punctuated her manipulations by calmly informing the Director of what she was doing. It seemed courteous and she knew that some tense patients felt some measure of peace and control from being involved in the process so to speak.

After what happened to be eight minutes per her chrono, she stepped back, giving the Director her personal space again.

"Everything's back in place. I will see you in thirty minutes at the docking bay, Director."

She didn't mention that the muscles would remain sore for a few days, because the Director had already made it clear she was aware of it. And in case the brunette had any comments or questions, she could bring them up during the flight to the debrief.

Without further ado, Lorna gathered her backpack and headed out of the Director's quarters.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Counting and focusing on the lamp aided Grace's mind with pushing through the anxiety. There was a fixed goal of 5-10 minutes that required her cooperation and she was going to hold DeLaTour to that and not a second longer. By the fifth minute, Grace had to relax her jaw as the anticipation of this soon ending was making her neck clench worse and would impede what the doctor was doing. Her lip trembled as she silently blew out a breath of air, still ticking off each second in her mind.

Lorna's prompting eased escalating tension so when hands adjusted for a new technique, Grace didn't flinch as expected. By the seventh minute, much of the pain had subsided and the director had a new focus - Lorna's hands. They weren't hardened like hers from training but they managed to apply an equal amount of pressure for function that rolled tendons back into place and loosen muscles. It felt incongruous that soft, gentle hands could hold so much power behind them and that, of all things, made Grace lose count. What was curious is that Grace didn't feel a rush of new anxiety at that knowledge because Lorna wouldn't lie. It would take ten minutes. Just ten minutes...

With a blink, the hands were gone and Grace replaced them with one of her own to survey Lorna's work. She bent her neck from side to side towards her shoulder and felt tenderness instead of the sharp pain plaguing her. That was normal after muscle fibers were forced back into place and made a note to ice her neck before leaving the room. She kept noting how rough and calloused her fingers felt against the heat of the skin, unlike Lorna's, as Grace went to stand to watch the doctor leave. Lorna didn't wait to ask if Grace felt better, confident in her abilities that the injury was righted and that the director knew how to take it from here. Lorna took Grace's word instead of rattling off a list of self-care instructions and just left.

The Director didn't know what to make of that because any other doctor would have talked her ear off, emphasizing every little detail to make sure the stubborn agent would understand that what was said was important. Lorna said far more with simply stepping away, announcing she was done and left.

Grace wasn't stupid and neither was Lorna. As observant as the doctor was, she had to know how anxious and fearful the director had been, and that Grace wasn'tbring a stubborn patient without good reason. Grace hated that knowledge but she was grateful that Lorna was kind enough to keep the examination and manipulation on task and left without confirming the director's mental state.

She didn't know how that made her feel because most examinations weren't this personal or required such intimate touching that went with a neck massage. The memory so fresh brought an immediate flush to her skin with renewed trepidation and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. It wasn't important anymore. It was over and the doctor kept her safe despite the initial push backs.

With a sigh, she disappeared into the kitchenette area to ice her neck for the next ten minutes and then would finish packing.

***

The shuttle ride was not tense, but it wasn't overly friendly like it had been back in the mess hall on The Hope. Grace and Lorna kept a respectable distance from each other, no longer sitting by one another with ample room in the crew hold.

Grace was glued to her datapad - updating Bryna on her ETA, checking if there was any news on Dasquian's Op, scouring news feeds for anything that may indicate his mission with the Consortium. Unsurprisingly Grace did not have clearance for the details, even though she technically did with her rank. The Alliance didn't want the two of them snooping on each other's operations after being apart for so long. It meant that he wouldn't be able to access her operation on Cona until final reports were in.

Unable to find anything substantial, she switched to the report she was working on for Alliance Medical. They had wanted a detailed report on DeLaTour after the mission, basically a glorified outline defending Van-Derveld's decision bringing the doctor onboard for Cona. Thankfully she could reuse some of the wording from he official report to the Admiral to speed up the process.

"We're exiting hyperspace, Director," called the co-pilot and Grace nodded, tucking her pad away inside her pack.

The shuttle exited in the Kashyyyk System where Admiral O'don's small fleet of cruisers and frigates waited. Their destination was the main Mon Cal Cruiser, The Caerulean, and in fifteen minutes, the shuttle was secured inside the main hangar.

Grace immediately unbuckled her belt, slung the pack straps over her shoulders, and disembarked. She was barely down the ramp when a tech flagged her over. He was wearing his uniform instead of work gear and Grace presumed that this was the cleanest the young man had ever been on the job in some time. Even his dirty blonde hair was combed back with a slight wave to it.

"Welcome aboard, Director Van-Derveld." He slightly looked to the left of her and nodded to DeLaTour. "Doctor. Admiral O'don apologizes for sending me instead of a higher rank to greet you. I'm Finch, Engineering Mate."

"It's not a bother." She waved off the concerns. There were far more important things going on the galaxy then some stuffy suited Navy officer coming to say hi and make small talk.

When Finch, in all his nerves, said nothing else, Grace raised her brows expectantly.

"Oh! Right!" His laugh was a bubble of nerves before clearing his throat. "It's uh ... yeah ... this ... uh this way ..." Finch extended his hand in leading the way out of the hangar and onto the main deck.

"Conference room just up ahead," he said, holding out his hand with his brows knit together nervously towards Grace who looked at him funny. "Need ah ... help with ... with the bag ...?"

He tried not to gulp, just trying to be polite to the Admiral's guests.

"No, thank you." Grace wasn't going to bite the guy's head off for that and watched Finch's face slowly relax.

Finch looked to the doctor next. "How 'bout you, Doctor?"

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Lorna's medical checkup went smoothly, although she felt relatively detached from the proceedings. It wasn't just that she was used to them so much. No, her mind was drifting back to the Director, and it puzzled her. For some reason, she kept replaying the whole banter in the mess hall, and then the argument that had her pull rank on Van-Derveld.

The doctor didn't have any remorse about her decision, because she knew it would make a positive difference for the mission leader. Yet, part of her recognized that the brunette likely dreaded medical procedure given the anxiety she had observed. While Van-Derveld did a stellar act at being exemplary patient, Lorna had seen and sensed the subtle signs of fear that had placated the Director when having to undergo that neck massage. She wouldn't ask what history had prompted that. Even in the more obvious and sadly common reasons, there were different possibilities, and really Lorna didn't want to just wonder about it.

What mattered to her was to be of service in the present. Shall people choose to discuss their past with her, she was a compassionate individual, and a good listener. Yet, she herself hated prying people, and she avoided being annoying as such, unless there was a life or death situation. Then, all bets were off if that was the only way to save a life.

She grabbed another caf on the way to the docking bay, and showed up with perfect punctuality. She nodded to the Director, and appreciated that the empty seats allowed them not to have to sit side by side, even though it felt a bit weird to Lorna after the mission to Cona.

She put that on her still erratic mind as she was still recouping a little.

The blonde appreciated that even though the silence felt different from the one following their direct banter in the hall, the Director wasn't pissed at her. She had known that something might have been brought up after having been the direct target of the brunette's cold venom. She was glad that Van-Derveld's posture looked better and healthier, and that at least, they were able to be in the same space with no issue.

Once the shuttle landed, Lorna was quick to follow the Director outside of the vehicle, although just a tad behind, given where she had been sitting.

When the young tech welcomed them, she had no issue with the lack of grand pomp committee. She was rarely greeted as such, and had no need for it.

She smiled and shook her head at the request coming her way.

"I'm fine, thanks."

Her backpack wasn't in her way and would make it easier to get in and out, for she knew she was already expected back at Jovan in thirty-six to forty-eight hours from now.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

"Okay," Finch said cheerfully, liking the doctor's easy demeanor more than the director's blunt one, and continued leading the pair the rest of the way in silence. He had an idea that would be for the best.

A few turns later, Finch keyed in the access code for the conference room and stepped aside so they could enter first. Grace didn't bother sparing a glance at the room and slid her pack off her shoulders to claim her spot close to the head of the table where the Admiral would assuredly sit. This room was like every other conference room on Alliance ships - white walls with a long table down the middle with holoprojectors lined up where the chair were pushed in for personnel to call in. A larger projector was in the middle for displaying various information regarding military strategies. It was a sterile environment that offered little distractions to keep meetings on task. The only inviting objects were the water pitchers and glasses.

"The Admiral will be here soon." Finch wanted to ease their minds that there wouldn't be a delay. Dr. DeLaTour had a shuttle back to Jovan Station that she needed to be on. The Director didn't have that tight of a timeline for the moment that he was aware of. "Was nice meeting you both."

He smiled, meaning every word because the doctor was, indeed, nice and Van-Derveld didn't bite his head off. It was a good day!

When the door slid closed, Grace was already seated and had her 'pad out, pulling up her report and the current ones that have filed in from Cona.

"If you need the projector, it's all yours, Doctor. I won't be using it." Grace finally spoke directly to Lorna without actually looking towards her, tone professional but that glimpse of warmth from the mess hall was definitely gone. This wasn't due to a petty grudge. This was work time and there was a schedule to keep and within seconds of speaking, Admiral O'don strode in.

The Mon Cal Admiral took in the pair and made his way to the head of the table. Grace immediately stood to respectfully salute, recognizing his higher rank despite being the Director of Alliance Intelligence. She had been in the position for a few years now, but O'don had stars on her.

"At ease, Director." Grace lowered her arm and took a seat as O'don looked to Lorna. "Doctor."

Grace was about to open her mouth in request, but O'don already had an idea what was on her mind. This debrief looked peculiar on the surface. "Oh don't be so surprised, Van-Derveld." He honed in on the agent quickly. "Despite what we talked about, you knew this was coming."

His attention was fixed on Grace and became aware of DeLaTour's confusion. As Van-Derveld's second in command on the mission, protocol forced Lorna here for this particular debrief. Clearly the director had not looped the doctor in on the override order. Grace noticed Lorna's surprise and ignored it, hoping the doctor didn't have a meltdown when she realize the risks involved in getting the lab back up. "I thought we filed this under all was forgiven since Cona was understanding ..." she pointed out and when O'don glared, Grace tried a different approach. "And technically we did follow protocol. We discussed my order and you stated Cona forgave the transgression since Dr. DeLaTour was able to finish her detox protocol. Lives were saved with minimal delay."

Lorna was only getting bits and pieces of a conversation long gone, which was confusing for her until O'don supplied the last part that provided understanding.

"Be that as it may, overriding planetary access of an Alliance ally requires an Admiral or General to oversee an official debriefing ..."

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Having had to suffer academic conferences in a variety of annoying configurations that allowed too many audience members and fellow scholars to be rudely distracted, Lorna appreciated the bright, even sterile, environment of the conference room aboard the ship. At least they could get down to business at once, which she highly appreciated. It wasn't that she was in a hurry of just getting it done and over with; but her looming work back on Jovan made her willing to take care of things as efficiently as possible.

That was why Grace's curt tone was fine with her. She saw nothing bad or worrying with it. Lorna herself was straight to the point and focused.

"Thank you, Director. I won't need it unless questions required diagrams from my report are required for further explanation."

She had made sure that her report was as detailed and organized as possible, long time habit formed back in her youth on imperial territory and schooling system.

The blonde chose to sit across from the Director at the table, so it would be easier to address both her and the Admiral. She pulled her datapad at once, and opened the report version that already had highlighted sections. She had made sure to have such a copy to make the debrief go smoother.

When the Admiral entered, she stood up at once like Van-Derveld. Though she didn't salute as a civilan, she bowed her head with respect due to the Mon Cal's position and service. She only took her seat back when he acknowledged her.

What unfolded next confused the hell out of her. She tried to piece things together but it made little sense to her. As much as she tried to recall what she had followed through the feed even as she focused on the medical protocol, she couldn't recall a thing that was relevant to whatever the Admiral and the Director were addressing.

Her expression likely betrayed it, though it changed to one of pure shock as the Admiral told her what it was about. Of course, something of such a scale must have happened through private channels instead of the shared feed. Still, Lorna probably looked stupid for a few moments, although she quickly managed to pull herself together.

"I believe this override happened to return power to the lab where my team was working. While I am not privy to due protocols for such matters, I fully support the Director's decision. Without such quick thinking, the delay would have cost many more lives, and might have allowed further sabotage to happen."

They hadn't directly asked for her opinion, but Van-Derveld and her had operated as a team, and still did as the debrief wasn't over. Not one to hesitate to speak up, the doctor saw it only appropriate that past the first surprise, she expressed her genuine support for what the Director had done.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace waited for a beat and if Lorna's shocked expression was anything to go off of, the doctor wasn't going to have a meltdown. At least that was in her favor, and she knew damn well O'don was on her side too. He couldn't officially condone the override, but he respected her decision and agreed it was the right call when the admiral thanked her.

This was just stuffy posturing from Alliance Command that was forcing O'don to slap her on the wrist after Grace defended herself again.

Lorna suddenly joining in brought all eyes on the doctor. Grace was not entirely surprised since DeLaTour already had a habit of speaking her mind in front of authority if the cause was just. Obviously Grace felt the full brunt of that hours ago over an inconsequential neck injury. But for Lorna, it didn't matter how small or large the suffering was, she would do whatever it was in her power to help. That was where their principals aligned. She just wished they would align on things not related to her own physical injuries.

Though her neck felt exceptionally better after Lorna manipulations and icing afterwards, it was quite sore, but the good kind of sore that happened after a hard workout, or a massage in this case. She pushed these thoughts to the side as it served no purpose right now.

She nodded towards Lorna in solidarity, continuing to be impressed with the doctor's professionalism. She quickly offered an opinion based on new information.

"And for the record, it would've taken hours to get access through official channels, and with the chaos going on at the hospital, it would've taken the same amount of time trying to figure out how Nd-os cut the power. Resources were thin with multiple searches and security maintaining order in a hospital that was barely keeping it together with the amount of patients there." Grace kept her voice from rising too high, but she would passionately defend herself even if an official reprimand was going to blemish her stellar file.

O'don leaned back and eyed the two of them. He was not expecting DeLaTour to quickly come to Van-Derveld's defense after being kept in the dark about the override. That was curious.

"Explain."

Grace immediately jumped in. "I don't have the exact numbers, but Arcona were already deteriorating by the hundreds. Between that and aiding injured, med staff were overwhelmed and the delays that we had cost a significant amount of lives. If I went through proper channels, it would've taken a minimum of four hours to obtain permission ... and that is being kind if we rushed the request through during a crisis. Furthermore, with staff being stretched so thin, there was no guarantee that we would have found our saboteur quickly enough, or that he'd break fast enough to explain how to bring power back to the lab. As you saw in the report, he was subtle about it and I'm certain my team couldn't have reversed that bit of slicing so quickly."

She was bristling. "And I know we can't prove it yet, but it's highly suspicious that tech was purposefully given to As-eda along with the outlaw tech we salvaged from the blast sites. Hutts are far too interested in Hae-d's research and sunk in a lot of resources into this mess."

[Lorna DeLaTour]

When Van-Derveld nodded to her words and the Admiral provided silent confirmation that she had understood correctly, Lorna then listened to the exchange between them; but didn't interfere for a while.

Now that she had more information, she began to put together a separate report, so it could be ventilated to those with appropriate credentials, since she knew that different reports went to appropriate audiences.

She was pulling notes from her personal scribbled throughout and after the mission. That was a habit she had taken, to use every brief break for caf or in the case of Cona minutes in the breathable room, to jot down notes about what was going on, which she kept. Not everything made it into her actual reports, but in certain cases, like the one on hand, it proved an incredible resource.

She was putting things together with speed and clarity. She would have to polish it on her way back to Jovan, but it would be transferred to Alliance Command within the next five hours, probably less.

She was also retrieving projections that had been made in collaboration with the Arcona doctors and her team prior and during the research.

When there was a pause in the conversation, she spoke up again.

"Based on the Director's estimation of how long it would have taken to go through normal channels to gain the power back up, here is what we would have looked at in terms of losses, and this is without including the risk of further sabotage in my lab."

While she was a team player, Lorna was also territorial regarding her teams and her work.

She switched the holo projector on and several graphs appeared in front of the trio.

"This is the time when the grid went down. Those were our projections for the following hours without the protocol."

She pulled another one in comparison then.

"This is the time when we left with the protocol. And next to it, is an estimation of what would have happened with a four hour delay."

It divided into four graphs, that showed projected numbers and then actual numbers of losses.

She looked at the Admiral.

"Without the Director's override, we would have had a minimum of five to nine hundred more deaths. Those projections were made thanks to a joint effort by Cona's medical experts and the Alliance team I led, sir."

She paused and briefly glanced at Van-Derveld before returning her attention to the Admiral.

"Based on the new information, I will submit another report within the next hours with appropriate documentation to support our claims."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Once again DeLaTour held O'don and Van-Derveld's attention, both impressed with how quickly the doctor analyzed the conversation, was able to root through mission information and disseminate her findings in a clear and concise manner that confirmed the director's decision to bypass security protocol. The projected graphs and timeline were the perfect touch that validated the decision since numbers do not lie.

After Lorna was finished, Grace had very little to add. "I would presume Cona's government came to the same conclusion and realized we didn't want more of their people dying."

"They did forgive the transgression, but this information was not shared by them," O'don countered.

Nevermind, Grace had a lot to add.

"With all due respect, sir, Cona's a mess down there. A trusted academic went rogue with ambition, tricked into setting off bombs that caused catastrophic damage and had plants ready to go cover up his mess. Most of all? There's thousands of Arcona that still need help with healing and finding resources for the survivors to make it through another day." She hovered over the table, finger stabbing against the sleek black surface with a stern voice to drive the point home. "So sending all required information on why they accepted an apology's not high on their list."

And then quickly add. "Sir."

The Admiral blinked once, regarding both women over steepled fingers. Van-Derveld had defensively leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, ready for another round if needed. The Director was always quick to defend herself when she felt actions justified the means. He agreed in this case and with DeLaTour's data backing up the decision, Alliance Command should be pacified.

"Perhaps so, Director. And it's fortunate that you recruited a physician that has a knack for quick number crunching." He turned to Lorna. "Soon as I have the report, I'll forward it to Alliance Command along with my recommendations."

Grace lofted a brow, ready to challenge. "Which are?"

"To leave it alone, per Cona's wishes." He motioned to the holographic charts. "And this will keep Command off your back, Van-Derveld." O'don held up his hand, pressing the pad of his thumb to a finger. "You were this close, this close to being grounded indefinitely behind a desk."

She shrugged it off as if it were the norm, which it usually was, and O'don shook his head in frustration. "I'm serious. Not another stunt like this."

Now her eyes widened with amusement. "Now Admiral ...you know I can't promise -"

"Try," he emphasized. "Or ... at least keep it tamed down a few notches that doesn't require abuse of power. Ah!" Grace closed her mouth as the Admiral cut off her argument. "I don't want to hear it. Just do it."

"Sir, yes, sir," she said with a satisfied smile.

[Lorna DeLaTour]

Once Lorna was done and no question came her way, she sat down again, returning to her work on the extra report. She was working double again, following the conversation between the Admiral and the Director, while giving her everything so the report could be directly handed over to the Mon Cal by the end of the debrief. While she had got solid sleep, she was pushing herself again, but she didn't complain. She was willing to do what needed to be done and in the best time frame for all parties involved. There was no reason to go into extensive details given all she had already provided in her other reports. All that mattered was consolidate around the particular time frame where Van-Derveld had chosen to do the override so power could come back up. She had no reason to have a bloody committee about it.

In the back of her mind she was pleasantly impressed by Van-Derveld passionate responses to the Admiral, to defend what decisions she had made on Cona. As much as Lorna had been oblivious to the override, nor had it been her call, she would have supported the Director's decision had she been consulted, which was also why she had made it clear to the Admiral.

She was cross referencing her notes, some reports she had received during collab work with the local medical teams. The report was taking quick but precise shape, and she knew she would stay on her self-imposed target.

The blonde looked up at the Admiral when he mentioned her knack for quick number crunching.

"I'm currently finalizing the report, sir," she replied without hesitation, before looking back at her datapad for the Mon Cal and Van-Derveld were discussing her situation.

She added notes and cleaned up a couple of graphs so there was a simplified version for whoever would review it. While she expected them to be able to understand them, having a simpler version rarely hurt. She had figured that out a few years ago after being told repeatedly she was providing way too many details or jargon that fundraisers or politicians didn't understand.

She couldn't help a slight grin from curving her lips at the end of the exchange between the Admiral and Van-Derveld. She did admire the Director's strength and spirit.

"Since what I just showed you was clear enough, I have opted for a short and efficient report, sir," she explained, realizing that she might not have made much sense several minutes ago compared to her initial ETA.

Copying the report to two encrypted datachips, she slid them both across the table, one to the Admiral and one to the brunette.

"I also have a knack for crunching words, not just numbers, sir. Here is the added report. This should satisfy Alliance Command."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

O'don reached for the datachip and scrutinized it, eyes taking in the fact he held an updated report that took the doctor less than a hour to complete. A report that would keep Alliance Command off Van-Derveld's back.

"Short and efficient will probably suffice. If there's further queries, I'll inform command to cross reference details in both your reports." He cued up the console and inserted the datachip into the port that appeared when a small latch slid back, already uploading the data to a secure server to send off.

Grace took her copy and fiddled with it, rubbing her thumb against the cool metal exterior. She despised reports, but they were part of the job. Accuracy of reports were only helpful if the information was relayed in a concise, well organized manner. Everything in the file could be on point but if the information was jumbled together with a shoddy outline, then time ticked away sifting through words to piece a puzzle together. Information needed to be digested and acted upon, not picked apart to figure out what the point of the report was.

Yet Lorna somehow managed all of that in record time. To be fair, she only spoke up when she knew her contribution to the conversation was imperative and focused on the update. A fact that didn't get passed the director. Crunching mission specs had convinced O'don that Grace wasn't to be grounded, aligning with Cona's input.

She would heed his warning but would make no promises. Grace's decisions were based on making the best call in the situations that presented themselves - even if she had to wiggle through some grey areas to save lives, though she did feel relief knowing that her record remained untarnished. She prided herself on working in the confines of her role and pairing that with her fervent belief of doing what was necessary. O'don said not to abuse her power as a director within the Alliance. She was within her rights to order the override, but Grace also knew in that back of her mind to tread carefully, keeping in mind that it truly was in the best interests of the mission. That it was not based on power or pride because she could do it. Every action had to be for the greater good, but not compromise her morals.

She would not become her brother.

"Thank you, Doctor." Grace attached the datachip into her personal 'pad. Of course the thank you was obscured to its intent. Was it for the report or was it because the report saved her ass?

"Reports have been filed with command along with my recommendations. As well as yours, Van-Derveld."

Grace nodded. "Thank you, Admiral."

The incident in her bunk had not affected her opinion on DeLaTour's work. How quickly Lorna responded during the debrief only solidified her glowing opinion that was forwarded to Alliance Medical - that if opportunities presented themselves for a mission that require a medical commanding officer, DeLaTour should be considered. She witnessed her leadership and ability to respond critically and effectively under pressure, while maintaining a strong presence for her team. Grace knew the doctor was brilliant and had the knowledge to figure out a detox protocol, but not everyone could be a leader. Lorna was the whole package.