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“Perhaps if you try—”
Cassian held up a hand for a second and gripped his knees, and K-2 stopped talking. In the stone corridor of the Yavin base, the rattling coughs coming out of him sounded more like barks. All K-2 could do was rest his fingers in between Cassian’s shoulderblades and try to rub the coughs out of him.
“Have you considered—”
Cassian straightened up, tears streaming down his face and his mouth pressed into a fine line. Raising one hand, K-2 brushed his finger over one of the tears to stop it from falling from his eyes, but Cassian pulled away and stomped in the direction of the hanger. Unable to do much else, K-2 followed on.
The image of K-2 trailing behind Cassian like a lost loth-cat wasn't unusual anymore, and no one in the hallways spared them a glance. The hanger was empty, the technicians and mechanics on lunch and the pilot off doing whatever it was they did when they were grounded, so K-2 naturally took the opportunity to announce, “your skin temperature is two degrees above baseline and you are perspiring twelve point two percent more than average.”
“Shut up—” Cassian cut himself off when the rattling cough struck back, his frustration dissolving into survival.
K-2 continued, “I recommend bed rest and suitable nutrition for the foreseeable future. Although, I always recommend that to you, and there is only a thirty-one point nine percent success rate for you accepting my advice.”
When Cassian didn't stop coughing for a moment longer, K-2 thudded his hand down onto the centre of Cassian's back at nine percent of his total strength. Cassian managed to stop coughing.
“Thanks,” he croaked. His breathing was still harsh, but it went in and out at an acceptable rate.
“You're welcome.” K-2 assessed him. “We will go back to the yurt.”
Cassian nodded and started walking again. With his wheeziness and general miasma of illness, however, it wasn’t easy going. The yurt wasn’t exactly far away from the main Yavin IV base, but walking through the humidity and with the sweats couldn’t have been fun. In fact, just as K-2 was assessing the best course of action, Cassian stopped and took his jacket off, wrapping it around his waist.
K-2 came to a decision. He braced one arm against Cassian’s back and stooped down so that he was almost crouching, and used his other arm to knock Cassian’s knees out. With a yelp, Cassian was in his arms.
“I don’t need—” Cassian began to complain, but K-2 squeezed him close to his chestplate and kept walking at a pace no human could match without breaking into a run.
K-2 would have to use this technique more often. Cassian complained less than he typically did when K-2 took action ensuring his health was maintained, and he was quieter. A good strategy all around.
The yurt was in sight. K-2 walked inside and brought Cassian over to the bed, depositing him on the mattress. When he tried to right himself, K-2 used one firm hand to keep him down.
“Stay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stay.”
“I’m just going to—”
“I’ll handle it.” K-2 stepped back and Cassian stayed sitting. Another point in favour of the carrying technique.
Walking over to the kitchenette, and, with motions he had memorised from Cassian and Melshi doing it a thousand times before, he began preparing a mug of caf. After a minute, Cassian lay down fully, his head pillowed in one arm as he watched K-2 prepare the drink. He straightened when K-2 came over and handed him the drink.
“Thank you.”
“You watched the brewing process very closely.”
“I was making sure that you didn’t sneak in any extra vitamins and minerals like you did before.”
K-2’s fans spun for a second, which made Cassian smile into his cup. The noise was, according to Cassian’s human ears, similar to a sigh or a grumble.
“It would be more nutritious if you let me add more yarrow root to it. The benefits outweigh the taste disadvantages—”
“Not in caf, Kay.”
“Well.” K-2 turned back to the kitchenette to put things away. “I will prepare a suitably nutritious meal instead. Are you willing to masticate or should I make soup?”
Cassian coughed. “Masticate?”
“The act of chewing.”
“I know that.” He tapped his fingers against the mug. “I’ll eat whatever you make, so long as it tastes good.”
K-2 made another sigh-slash-groan with his fans. “Fried lum fruit it is.”
“I only eat so much lum fruit because you can cook it.”
“I only cook so much lum fruit because you will eat it.”
“If you add salt—”
“The risks of salt outweigh the benefits.”
“Spoken like a droid.”
“It’s true!”
Cassian put the mug down and lay back in the bed, watching Kay as he worked. “I never said it wasn’t.”
K-2’s optics went up and down Cassian’s face, which was unnecessary for seeing him, but portrayed his assessment clearly. Cassian gave him a warm smile.
“Put your jacket back on. Or pull the blanket up. Yavin might be tropical but the air temperature is ten degrees lower than the average human body temperature.”
Instead, Cassian toed off his boots and tucked himself under the thinnest blanket they owned. He sniffed.
“I’m going to put vegetables into your rice,” K-2 threatened. As he had hoped, Cassian brought another blanket up which had a higher insulation rating.
Cassian brought the mug over to his face again. “If you wanted me to sleep, you shouldn’t have given me a stimulant.”
“It is decaf.”
Cassian shot upright. “Decaf!”
K-2 jammed his knee in front of the cupboard so that Cassian would have to move all seven-feet of K-2’s body before he could access the caf. “You will eat my food, you will like it, and you will sleep.”
“The reports—”
“Can wait.”
“But Davern—”
“Can wait.”
“We just got back from the mission—”
“Which happened two days ago on a planet where it always rains,” K-2 stressed. “And you wrote your report on the ship, and Davern gave you the go-ahead to skip debriefing until tomorrow. Rest, Cassian. We were on that planet for two weeks. You were saturated to the skin every day. You can afford to eat and then sleep for at least a full day cycle, if not longer.”
Cassian put the caf down. “I need to debrief today. As soon as possible. It is essential.”
“Well,” K-2 compromised, “the med-kit does include a tranquilizer. I’m interested in seeing whether the dosage is potent enough to cause sleep in an averaged sized human.”
Slowly, Cassian lay back down.
“Good. I am glad we agree.” K-2 turned back to his cooking. All indicators suggested that it was ready. “Now, do you need me to feed you or can I trust you with a spoon? And should I make noises similar to a starship as I guide the spoon into your mouth?”
Cassian sniffed. “I can feed myself.”
“I am glad. I’d like to keep my fingers as far away from your teeth as possible.”