Obi-Wan, at least, she could pinpoint his exact position the moment he entered the room. And he was more reassuring than any number of healers could be. She stilled slightly, her hand pressed against the glass of the tank, closing her eyes and focusing on his familiar presence in the Force. She was still restless, still itched to get out of the tank... but she could wait a few more moments. He was there... she could wait a little longer.
There was a gentle tug on the breathing mask she wore, and she blinked open her eyes and looked up, at the round hatch in the top of the tank. There was the silhouette of a humanoid figure, and she was kicking her legs and making her way to the surface almost as soon as she saw them. She shoved off the breathing mask and hauled herself out of the tank. She would need clothes; she was clad in the standard white camisole and briefs required for bacta immersion, and she wasn’t sure where the unisuit and cloak she’d worn on the mission had ended up. Or any of her gear. But that could wait a moment or two. She could wait a moment or two.
She brushed bacta-sodden hair off her face as a tech dropped a grate into place over the hatch, and another used a water spray to wash the bacta residue off of her and back into the tank. She was going to be smelling and tasting bacta for weeks... but it was better than the alternative. Had very nearly been the alternative. She shivered.
As soon as they handed her a towel she was taking it, drying off as she turned to Obi-Wan. Only when she saw him for herself, not just the sense of him in the Force but the SIGHT of him, did the tension that she’d been feeling since regaining consciousness ease a little, her relief sharp and intense.
no subject
There was a gentle tug on the breathing mask she wore, and she blinked open her eyes and looked up, at the round hatch in the top of the tank. There was the silhouette of a humanoid figure, and she was kicking her legs and making her way to the surface almost as soon as she saw them. She shoved off the breathing mask and hauled herself out of the tank. She would need clothes; she was clad in the standard white camisole and briefs required for bacta immersion, and she wasn’t sure where the unisuit and cloak she’d worn on the mission had ended up. Or any of her gear. But that could wait a moment or two. She could wait a moment or two.
She brushed bacta-sodden hair off her face as a tech dropped a grate into place over the hatch, and another used a water spray to wash the bacta residue off of her and back into the tank. She was going to be smelling and tasting bacta for weeks... but it was better than the alternative. Had very nearly been the alternative. She shivered.
As soon as they handed her a towel she was taking it, drying off as she turned to Obi-Wan. Only when she saw him for herself, not just the sense of him in the Force but the SIGHT of him, did the tension that she’d been feeling since regaining consciousness ease a little, her relief sharp and intense.