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A blueish light emanates from Lus' hand, and with that, most of Atton's wounds are gone. Lus' gentle touch lingers a bit longer than needed, softly wiping the blood from the pilot's face. He sighs and looks down.
"You know, Atton, I think we should change tactics a little. You should let me handle more of the battle."
"Huh? But you're so..." Atton gestures, alluding to the Jedi's size.
He chuckles. "And? You know we Jedi are durable. Right?"
He has firsthand disproven that statement. But he doesn't need to know that yet. If ever.
"Yeah. And your Jedi master friends will beat my ass if something happens to you. No way."
He's not a Jedi, technically, if the council's words held any meaning. But tell that to anybody when they see you in robes healing strangers. He sighs.
"We aren't particularly in the best terms. I doubt they are looking out for me."
"Listen, Jedi, let me do my job. Besides, it's not like I don't enjoy it."
"I... can see that. Although your job is flying the ship. We are equals. You aren't my bodyguard."
The pilot rolls his eyes. Lus sees he cannot convince him with reason, he has to use his heavy weaponry.
He gently but desperately reaches for Atton's hand.
"Please? I can't let you endanger yourself constantly like this. We were dealing with thugs whose training... left a lot to be desired, but what happens if that changes?"
"Why are you insisting like that? You know, scoundrels like me? You can meet like five in any cantina. You'll have a harder time finding someone who flies like I do, but not THAT hard. Now, if you want these, but also with my good looks... "
He almost escapes the conversation by cracking jokes.
Almost.
"I care for you."
Atton flinches.
"Uh... You're.. very nice."
The scoundrel grabs Lus' hand back, and he nervously turns this situation into a handshake.
The exile sighs.
"Sucks for you, though. I don't like this whole thing - people getting close to me." he says smiling, trying to turn this into yet another joke.
"Stop running away." Lus says sternly. Atton is disappointed his joke didn't land.
"Stop doing whatever it is. If you don't like me back, just tell-"
"No! I mean... No, it's not like that. I..." He sighs, looking down.
"I don't want you to be close to me because I don't wanna you knowing things that will make you hate me. And I know just saying this is dangerous. I know you'll be reaching into my mind to see what I'm thinking or whatever it is you Jedi do."
The exile looks crushed at the accusations.
"What? Atton, I won't be doing any of that..." He sighs. "My past isn't squeaky clean either."
"Yeah, what is it? You, yelling at your Jedi teachers because... what? They wouldn't let you nap during lightsaber lesson?"
More like following Darth Unhealthy One-Sided Friendship Malak and Revan into war. But that's a bit tedious to explain. So he just sighs.
"Look, if you wanna take more hits in battle, and you're sure you won't be getting killed, be my guest. I know I could use staying behind someone and simply shooting. But don't go asking me to tell you sob stories. Ain't my style."
Lus takes the cue and chuckles, taking this as a small victory. He knows he won't get more out of this conversation. He smiles.
"I appreciate that. I hope you enjoy the view if you stay behind." The exile adds this with a flirtatious smirk. He has had some practice this last decade.
"I would, if you got rid of the damn robes." Atton is quick to flirt back.
"Who knows? You might get lucky sometimes."
With that, Lus turns to leave, his robe flowing behind him. As he paces through the ship's corridors, his own words still resonate in his mind. "Less than squeaky"? Ugh. That is an offensive understatement.
Atton looks at the little flashing lights on his dash. He tries to calculate the amount of fuel that was already spent. But his mind fills with images of how much he thinks Lus would hate him if he knew.