SW FotJ: The Hell for Youth and Laughter pt. 2

Summary: Tywyll Heliwr is treated for her injuries while Mhyra Zyuneli deals with some Republic soldiers unwilling to trust the presence of her new charge.  Director Mhyra Zyuneli experiences firsthand the horrors of war for the first time. The Kavosi tries to offer words of comfort to the innocent Ulythari. When the Kavosi tries to interrogate Tywyll Heliwr, Mhyra makes him leave the med unit. Tywyll Heliwr is prepared for transport back to Oasis Station.


Tywyll Heliwr nodded to the woman and murmured, "Thank you very much.  She dropped the Imperial uniform on the ground to show the woman her pierced palm and wrist, crusted over with something that looked the same color as mercury oxide, and one could see light passing through the injuries.  The strong wind blew some of Tywyll Heliwr hair into her face and mouth when she tried to murmur, "I am afraid that I am not... worth much....like this," Her hand shook as she moved to pull her hair clear of her mouth as her other  simularly wounded hand maintained its grip on Nigdy Ciemny's snath.  When Tywyll Heliwr dropped the uniform and raised her hand to show that she was injured, one could see what might be a gun belt under the folds of the fabric of the robe that Tywyll wore.  Light also passed through a burnt hole that had been made when the previous occupant of that robe had been slain.  Tywyll Heliwr clenched all three of her eyes shut, trying to swallow down the urge to vomit caused by the pain that built in her palms and wrists the more thawed out from the cryostasis that she became.


    As she stooped to pick up the Imperial officer's uniform again, Tywyll became aware of the thoughts of suspicion that now traveled through the nearby Republic soldiers.  She thought that she could hear the click and clack of weapons being readied and when Tywyll Heliwr looked, she could see some of the soldiers start to make their way towards her.  Tywyll Heliwr noticed that a couple looked in the direction of the man with whom she arrived, moving away from her and towards other wounded.  One of the soldiers looked at the Sith robe and the uniform in her hands and asked, "Excuse me, Miss. Are you a Sith prisoner of the Jedi helping our men?"

         Tywyll Heliwr blinked her eyes, looked at the man a minute and then shook her head. She murmured, "No, I am no Sith."
         The soldier did not appear convinced, "If you are not a prisoner, then why didn't he heal you?"

    At the same time he waved the other soldiers forward and they began to advance on Tywyll Heliwr with weapons leveled.  The first soldier said, "I think you need to stay right where you are."  He began to reach for restraints.

By the goddess… Hesitant, gloved hands reached for her palm, but stopped, realizing that the soldier’s blood coated the tips of her fingers. No, this will not do. She’d risk contaminating her if she attempted a closer look. At least until she’d put on a change of gloves. “Let me bind those wounds until I can find a safe way to treat those injuries. It’ll…” but her words trailed off when a Republic soldier interrupted her.

    Wait… What’s happening? Crystalline eyes darted between the soldiers… and even her own people slowed in their treatment as they began to get nervous from the sudden growth of hostility in the air. Worried gazes locked on the Director for guidance and she could tell a couple wanted to run in case something terrible was about to happen.

    This cannot stand, however. It wasn’t just about her people’s safety, but for those under their care. Mustering up some courage, the Ulythari woman stepped in between the soldier and Fetch, eyes filled with determination as she sternly stated, “Enough.” Swallowing, she then continued with, “Not that it’s any of your concern, but a Jedi must carefully save his strength. Every time he heals, he becomes more exhausted. He prioritized."

    “Also, she is my patient, as you all are,” she added more stubbornly. “I do not care what side you are in this war or how any of you came to be here. You are under my care and therefore you will follow my rules. You do not continue your war in front of my people. Do you understand? You’ve fought. Now rest.”

The soldier heading up the group looked at the Director and said, "As you have observed, this is a war that we find ourselves in the middle of Director.  If this being is an Imperial, then she knows the location of our camp now.  You can treat her but she isn't going anywhere out of our sight.   I might have been born in the morning but it wasn't yesterday morning.  She'll be keeping a Republic guard on her at all times and she can surrender her weapons...all of them...even whatever that thing she has in her hands.  We'll wait and see what the Jedi has to say about her before she gets them back."

         Tywyll Heliwr looked over at the Director, shook her head and murmured, "Nigdy Ciemny.... is alive....just as much... as you or I...something has been done...to him. He is weak...I need...to hold him...to help him.  If he is kept apart from me...too long....he will die...we're connected."

     Tywyll picked up the thoughts from the soldiers 'This creature is insane", "She's lying." and  "Just give over the stick you stupid...whatever you are before you get yourself killed." Tywyll pressed her forehead against the snath in her hands and heard the leader of the soldier repeat himself, "Miss, I need you to surrender whatever that is."

“She is a wounded creature in need of help, just like the rest of you,” Mhyra interjected, feeling an emotion she’s never encountered before: anger, “and as such, she is under my protection. We Ulythari have no part in this war, and yet here we are… on the ground, helping all. The civilians caught in between, the Republic, the Imperials – it does not matter. We are doctors on a mission, and that mission is to heal those trapped in a cycle of violence that was brought upon by the decisions of those they’ve never even met in their lives. I understand that you lot are soldiers. You have orders… but while you’re with me, you are no longer a part of this war. If you wish to continue it so badly, then leave,” she demanded of him. “Leave, because I will not allow you aboard my station with weapons drawn against each other. We are neutral. Set aside your prejudiced hatred or be left behind.”

The soldier said, "She is a wounded creature wearing the uniform of our enemy.  I have the safety of my men to consider, Director.  It is my business to make sure that they stay alive. I only follow the orders of  my Superior Officers and they would not tell me to do something foolish that puts the lives of my men at unnecessary risk...especially if it means giving away location.  There are men here to wounded to move that I do not intend to leave behind to avoid hurting your tender sensibilities or offending your rather innocent view on what is right and wrong. I will not watch my men be shot like animals by Imperial soldiers, while lying in their sick beds just because this wounded creature gave away our present position."  He fumed at the director and then looked at Tywyll Heliwr, "If you have any communication device on your person, surrender it now or be searched."

    As the human spoke, Tywyll Heliwr received a hellish memory from the man's head of having suffered some horrible experience similar to the scenario that he was relating to the director.  Tywyll Heliwr took to trembling and when she vomited, the wind shifted. The soldier in front of her was covered.  He spat out her vomit as Tywyll covered her mouth, standing half frozen with puke dribbling down her front.  The other soldiers stood with mouths open, shocked.  Someone within their ranks failed to suppress a nervous laugh.  The soldier who had been speaking wiped a hand across his face and flung the puke onto the ground at his feet.  He looked too furious to speak and everyone stood in silence wondering what would happen next.  When he spoke, he bellowed to two of his men to not let Tywyll out of their sight and stormed away.  Those who had not been told to remain looked back and forth between Tywyll Heliwr and their leader for a moment, trying to decide if they were to go back to their former duties.  They decided to return to their duties when they heard their leader go off screaming in the camp.

Something’s wrong… Even she could sense it in his words and Mhyra truly did have a naïve view of the world. Parting her mouth to speak, the Ulyhari woman released a startled squeak when projectile vomit suddenly shot by her and splattered over the soldier’s face. Those crystalline eyes were wide with shock… until a familiar smell wafted up to her nostrils. What? “Tywyll…” she whispered in utter surprise. “Medic!” she called out, drawing the attention of an older Ulythari just as he finished tending to an injured soldier. “She has cryo sickness,” she told him as he approached. “Use the fabricator. Duplicate her blood and uses it to help flush out her system. By no means inject her with anything else,” she then warned. “Yes, Director Zyuneli,” he spoke, placing a gentle hand upon the Fetch’s back. “Come, let’s get you to a Med Unit.” “You’ll be fine with him,” she assured her. “I’m going to have a talk with this soldier… I cannot risk a loose cannon around here,” she then muttered to herself, turning to head in that man’s direction.

Tywyll Heliwr watched the other Ulyhari approach her to lend her aid. Her back stiffened when one of them placed a hand on her back but she followed him to the Med Unit. Someone took the uniform out of her hand but when they tried to take the snath, Tywyll Heliwr would not release Nigdy Ciemny and murmured, "Please warm Nigdy Ciemny up slowly...like you would do...for frost bite victim.  Keep him close...to me."

    The medic nodded and gave some directions to a nurse who left the med unit. The medic laid a treatment gown on the cot next to Tywyll Heliwr but when he tried to help her out of her clothing, she wrapped her arms tight around herself and shook her head. When the nurse returned with something to hold Tywyll Heliwr's living weapon, the medic looked at the nurse and said, "I think she needs a female to assist her."  The nurse nodded and moved over to sit with Tywyll Heliwr on the cot while the medic left to go find the Director and relay his suspicions.

    Meanwhile, the soldier who had confronted Mhyra could be found using some of the camp's supply of wipes to try and clean off his face.  It seemed like he was scrubbing hard enough to not just remove the several days worth of whiskers on his face but also the first few layers of skin.  He took several swigs of water from his canteen before spitting each mouthful out on the ground.

Mhyra’s steps were soft on approach… and she could not help the faint smile when she witnessed his persistent scrubbing. Everyone’s gone through it in her crew. They were doctors and, sad to say, projectile vomiting was not the worst they’ve experienced. Once at his side, she lowered the bag and knelt by him, rummaging through it to find a small kit. “Here,” she stated, offering a strip of gum to him. “It cleans and dilutes the flavor.” Once he’d take it, she’d pull out a collection of wipes of her own. “Those won’t do any good. The Fetch may only have cryo sickness, but her biology may be detrimental to yours. Hold still,” she told him, a gloved hand gently cupping the side of his face to turn him toward her while she began to wipe away at his irritated skin. He really went at it, didn’t he..? He’ll need a topical afterward so that the pours don’t become inflamed.

The soldier tried to reach for the gum while steadying his hands.  He took the offered piece of gum and popped it into his mouth. Trying to conceal his trembling fingers, he looked at her sideways for a moment and said, "Thank you. why did you follow me?"

    He winced as she grabbed his jaw and his pupils were dilated. He stood there for now letting her mop up his face with whatever she was using, while waiting for her answer.

“Because even though we do not see eye to eye, you are still under my care. It does not matter if you have no wounds for me to tend to,” she stated honestly, those pink pupils flickering in the light as she glanced up toward his eyes. “There is something, though… What you said was very specific,” she analyzed while cleaning the remnants of the Fetch’s biohazards along his skin. Once clean, she took out a small tube and squeezed a bit of topical cream until her digits. The cool ointment immediately began to replace the distinct burn in his pores with a refreshing chill as it worked at the inflammation.

The soldier snapped at her, "Well, pick up any history book on military combat.  There are plenty of accounts about just how bad things can go in War...especially when you practice bad tactics or strategy.  I am not a bad person because I put the lives of my men before someone else's life.  I know your type, you see all the horrors and name those sacrifices as pointless while demonizing the people who have to lead others through hell in order to preserve a little more time in heaven for everyone else.  I do not sit and philosophize on things about which I know nothing, passing judgement from the sidelnes while someone else pays for my freedom in the arena.  I believe in freedom, I know how much my men and I have given to preserve it and I would do it again. Why? Because even a pacifist deserves to practice their beliefs and live their lives as they see fit.  But don't you for one minute look down on me or mine for killing and dying in order to buy you what you enjoy! Everyone in this camp has paid dearly in blood, suffering and loss in the hope that whoever gets to go home in the end will get to taste a measure of what you experience everyday you get out of bed in the morning and we are the reason that you can go to bed at night without being in fear that your station will be invaded and your own people butchered...We can not afford to sit on the fence of neutrality...by the Force!"  He held his head in his hands and took a moment to regain a measure of composure.  When he felt he could speak again without yelling at the woman, he said, "My upmost apologies, Director. All of us have been under a tremendous amount of stress out here...ah hell..." He shook his head, "there is no excuse...for what I did. I'm sorry." He furrowed his brow.

Her crystalline eyes widened, the Ulythari flinching beneath his anger… and yet, despite the fear that welled up within her, the anger from before did not subside. If anything, it grew a little… because he did not understand. She knew the horrors he must have faced and she did not belittle them… but he did not understand her at all. “You… do not protect us,” she finally managed, her voice shaking. “My people… We are on our own. Everything that we’ve accomplished, we’ve done for the betterment of your people,” she emphasized. “My crew… I have people who hardly even know how to fire a gun out here and they’re terrified, but they want to help… We absolutely abhor the violence and we do not put you at fault for it. I apologize if I made it sound like we did… But there are soldiers out here who did not want to be a part of this war. Kids who joined because there was nothing else for them… or people who truly do not believe in the war their masters bring, but do so to protect their family anyway. I respect your passion… but we are here for the souls who are thought of as cannon fodder and collateral. We want to make sure they make it home. All of them… no matter their side."

    Those crystalline eyes stared at the camp, looking at the Ulythari medics fast at work. “As for the Fetch… If you had taken a moment to put your hatred aside, you would have noticed that she is a victim. Her clothes do not fit her… not even her shoes. There is also evidence that the person who originally wore those robes had perished… and possibly by a lightsaber. Throw in cryo sickness… and the clear signs of torture on her limbs…” She looked back to him. “I know you do not want to trust… but, when you’re up to it, please take another look… and really look this time. Please..?” she asked, offering him a soft, caring smile.

The man stood there looking at her speechless.  There was the look of fatigue on his face that only comes with losing several nights in a row of sleep.  He took the wipes out of her hand and cursed his trembling hands under his breath before saying, "Thank you, I think that I can take it from here, Director. It sounds like you have a patient that needs you more than I do right now."

She nodded. “That I do…” Setting the kit back in her bag, she slipped the straps onto her shoulders and moved to return to the others, only to stop and look back at him. “Do try to rest for now. Once the injured is prepped for transportation, you all will be shipped to Oasis. From there, you will be cared for. I promise.” As she joined the others, she switched on the universal comlink. “Status..?” she asked to the other medrunner teams out there. “We’ve found Imperial wounded. Transporting.” “Civilians. We’re evacuating!” “We’ve lost Runa…” At that, Mhyra froze. Runa… “I… I see…” “We had to get out of there, ma’am. We couldn’t bring her…” “Mark the location… Once the battle’s over, we will search for her remains… and give her a proper burial.” “Estra’da, Director Zyuneli.” “Estra’da…” she replied sadly. Inhaling deeply to ease the building tremor in her hands, she approached the Fetch. “And how are we?”

"Well, we can hope..." the soldier said as he watched her leave.  He started to walk off and find the camp's privy when the shrill sound of a bomb approaching pierced the air. In an instance, the place where the soldier was exploded; throwing dirt, rubble and whatever was left of the obliterated soldier skyward only to rain down on the camp below.

    Back at the med unit, the staff had managed to get Tywyll into a medical gown and they were in the middle of treating her for cryosickness.  The staff did seem a little lost on what to do about Nigdy Ciemny, so they just treated the weapon for hypothermia like Tywyll Heliwr had told them to do. At the sound of the Director's voice, Tywyll Heliwr turned her head and looked at her. The fetch noticed the look on Mhyra's face and how her hands trembled.  Tywyll Heliwr said, "I still feel...half deafened...by so much wind."  Tywyll Heliwr refrained from telling the woman about all the thoughts streamng through her head because things just did not seem to go well after you told outsider medical professionals that you were hearing voices. Tywyll Heliwr's  wrists and palms had been bandaged and it looked like someone had cleaned most the dirt and freezing gel out of her ashen hair.
 
Lips parted to speak, to ask her to clarify as to what she meant by that, but the Ulythari fell silent when something unfamiliar to her sounded from above. She raised her gaze toward the sky, squinting… and followed an objects trajectory all the way to- “NO!” she shouted desperately, watching the soldier torn to shreds by the following explosion. Screams erupted from the crew… many of them ducking down while rubble was hurled around them.

    Mhyra was dead silent… standing eerily still while blood rained from the sky, staining the lighter layers of her uniform with the remains of a man whose name she had failed to learn. This… can’t be happening, can it..? She was just speaking to him… They had been safe… She promised him that he’d be taken care of. She promised… Tears flowed down her cheeks, mingling with blood. “Goddess, no…”

The fetch winced at the Ulythari's scream.  Tywyll Heliwr tried to sit up in the bed only to have another member of medical personel stop her and encourage her to lie back down.  Whatever had happened, had happened outside of Tywyll Heliwr's line of sight.  The only thing that Tywyll Heliwr knew for certain was that their were fewer voices in her head now than before.  Adding the sound of a bomb impacting the ground together with that, she inferred that the Director had just witnessed people hit by a bomb in the Republic's camp.  The thoughts of the one's who survived only confirmed her inference.  She dropped her head back onto the pillow and began to be confused.

Mhyra had seen people die before… but never like this. To have been walking, talking… and then obliterated so suddenly. Her body trembled… and even though Mhyra was no stranger to blood, having the soldier’s remains on her felt… different… awful. Her stomach churned, twisting… and she felt incredibly nauseous. She could not lose face, though. Her people depended on her… If she broke down now, what will happen to them..?

    Gradually, the Ulythari turned back toward the Fetch woman… and even though she managed to put on a smile, the purity of her eyes could not hide the pain that tore at her heart. She had truly hoped to know him better… a man of honor and passion. The world is lessened from his loss. “I…” she started, voice cracking as tears begged to flow without restraint. She can’t do this. She can’t just hold it in… but she could not let them see, either. “I need to make contact with the Jedi. Call if you have need of me."

    Without giving them so much as a chance to protest, the woman hurried off… trying to be as poised as possible, but the farther she went, the more weak she became. Then her knees buckled from under her and she fell… choking back a sob while she lays there. She had tried so hard… She just needed a moment… just a moment… and she’ll be right as rain again. She has to be…

Kavosi sat down beside the Director, resting his elbows on his knees in front of him and nervously cracking his fingers together in the space between. He didn’t say anything nor did he look into her eyes. He knew what would be there when he did, it would be pain. Not the pain he sees in the eyes of the soldiers, not the pain in those who’ve lost yet another member of their family to this damn war. It would be the same pain Kavosi once saw in the eyes of Zachary Nightwatcher. It was the pain of innocence being lost, and it was an awful thing. Eventually Kavosi did bring his dark eyes over to Mhyra, and noticed the remains of the man staining her medical uniform. “You’re a brave Ulythari Mhyra.. It’s not easy to stand against this war, or aside from it, helping those who suffer. It’s not easy to witness the atrocities people inflict upon each other, or to ignore it. I tried once… I tried leaving it all behind, to protect my family.. The war and those who suffer caught up with me, I couldn’t run from them. Neither can you. You’re braver than me because you wouldn’t try to run, you’ll let yourself feel the pain. But when the eye of its storm has passed, you’ll be brave again.” Kavosi wiped some remains off of Mhyra’s shoulder, forcing himself to ignore the wet feel of it. “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to help others as you’ve done. You don’t have to lead your people and continue down the path you’ve laid out for Oasis. You can let it be someone else. There will be someone else. Whenever one of us dies, or leaves, another always rises… But if you’re willing to be brave again, then stand with me. We’ll go back together, and we’ll get those soldiers back to their homes.”

Mhyra wanted so much to push down the pain… to cease her crying, especially now that Kavosi had joined her on the ground. She could not stop… but she did manage to quiet the sobs that shook her frame now that the man had begun to speak. Brave… Everyone keeps calling her that, but Mhyra was absolutely terrified. She was shaking… Every second she was on this world, she was overwhelmed with awful thoughts of her crew perishing under her guidance. A team has already lost one: Runa… and Mhyra wondered if they’d even be able to find her body for proper burial once this was over.

    Silent now, the Ulythari pushed herself to sit up… gloved hands wiping at the blood that stained her purple features. “I am willing…” she replied, “because there is no one else. Not like us… and the galaxy needs us now more than ever.” There was no option to just step down and let someone else take the reins. No one else will. Even her own people follow because they believe in her. Anyone can wish to help, but without the right leadership… nothing will ever get done. She did not have a choice. Her morals did not give her one.

    Releasing a shaky exhale, the Ulythari stood and turned her crystalline gaze toward him. “Thank you…” she whispered, managing a smile. It was then that a realization occurred to her… and she looked herself over. She was absolutely covered in biologicals. The soldier’s biologicals. What if…? Setting down her bag, she took out a cylindrical tube. He ran her gloved hands along a shoulder and arm, collecting blood and organ mass before dumping it into the tube. She then did the same to her other arm until she got enough of the sample. Sealing it tight, she stashed it into her bag before eying Kavosi, realizing what she had done must have looked odd. “Don’t ask,” was her only request before she began her trek back to the camp.

Kavosi didn’t argue, why argue when he knew she was right? He had faced the same dilemma when he left his family, just as she faced it now. Kavosi fought to hide his puzzled expression as he watched her take samples of the remains, but he nodded and did as she said; he didn’t ask. In fact, he didn’t say anything as they made their way all the way back to the camp. There wasn’t much one to say and besides, sometimes you just needed to think. Kavosi wasn’t sure what was going through the Director’s mind, but he was sure she needed to think it through. Perhaps as he had, once before. As soon as he saw Tywyll in view he turned to Mhyra. “She was the Fetch bound up in that pod you had tracked. She didn’t seem to like the idea of me questioning her, perhaps we should ask her why she was on the Shadow Testament and how she managed to get released, together?” Whatever the Director answered, Kavosi would head over to Tywyll and ask just that. “Tywyll, the Black Coven is known for their savage experiments. I’m curious of your tale, and how exactly you managed to get let go. Clearly you didn’t escape, unless you bound yourself while in that pod…” Kavosi didn’t know the Fetch, the Fetch didn’t know him. And so he didn’t soften his tone or hide his assumptions, nor would he have even tried had Mhyra not been there to give him tempering looks.

When Kavosi stepped into the med unit, Tywyll Heliwr turned her head towards the entrance.   She blinked at the adruptness of his question and the tone of his voice. Tywyll Heliwr seemed to consider Kavosi's words while she fiddled with her pendant, toggling a moveable piece.  Tywyll Heliwr closed her eyes and sighed when her modified Ulkop Voice Scrambler proved to be working again.   She sat up in bed and tossed her feet over one side of the bed, Tywyll Heliwr began pulling I.V.s out.  Tywyll Heliwr stood up and slowly moved over to where NIgdy Ciemny was.

Tywyll Heliwr tore away at the bandages on her hands with her teeth until the remains hung from her wrists.  She touched Nigdy Ciemny's snath with her hands to see how cold he was and if he would open his eyes in response to her.  Once the connection was made, Tywyll Heliwr began to psycicly resonate with Nigdy Ciemny.  She murmured the words, "Come on, wake up....I need you to wake up."  When Nigdy Ciemny did not open his eyes, Tywyll Heliwr sighed.  She picked him up and held him in the crook of her arm.   Turning, she faced the confrontational Jedi that had barged into the medunit.  Tywyll Heliwr murmured, "I thought the Director made it clear that I was granted sanctuary.  I fail to see how an interogation fits into that."

Mhyra frowned at Kavosi. Question her…? The Fetch’s condition already brought enough stress to her mind and body. The last thing she needs is to have what could be traumatic memories brought out into the open. “I do not think we should disturb her with this,” she stated honestly, but the Jedi ignored her uncertainty and questioned the Fetch anyway. Even worse, his tone was too harsh when asking this… so what would have been a question from mere curiosity, was instead construed as carrying suspicion of her, much like how the Republic Soldiers acted before.

    Parting her lips, the Ulythari was about to speak against Kavosi’s questions when the Fetch pulled the IV out. “Wha.. What are you doing?” Mhyra asked, panic in her tone while she struggled to understand. Even worse, the Fetch tore away at the bandaging that prevented infection from developing in her gaping wounds. Was she planning to leave..? Was it a response to the way Kavosi handled the situation?

    “It is not an interrogation,” she interjected, worry in her eyes while she monitored the woman. “His tone was careless and so it’s easy to misunderstand,” she continued, trying to defend the Jedi and clear up the situation. “He shouldn’t have pushed the topic, especially with your current condition. From what I understand, escape from this… Black Coven?” she tried to recall the name properly, “is unheard of. While his timing is completely inappropriate,” she stated, casting him a disappointed glance, “I’m sure he merely wanted to know how such a feat was possible so that he could use that information later on."

    Mhyra turned her full attention to the Fetch. “Please…” she stepped closer. “You are not well. Let the medics do their job and keep your body from degrading further. Like this, you will run the risk of infection and I do not know if we’ll be spared the time to find the ingredients necessary for your biology.”

While the Ulythari spoke, Tywyll Heliwr looked at Mhyra and raised her eyebrows.  Tywyll Heliwr did not challenge the Director's reasoning but she did regard the Jedi in the room with an unreadable look on her face.  Tywyll Heliwr was not imminating fear but there was the determination to defend herself. Tywyll Heliwr murmured, "I want the human to leave."

Leave..? Yes, Mhyra supposed that was for the best. Tension was high with the chaos around them and the Fetch needed as much peace as she could find, lest her body’s condition deteriorate with stress. Looking to Kavosi, she gave an apologetic look in her crystalline eyes before sending him away. Perhaps he will spend this time in search of others..? Turning back to Tywyll, she gave a pleading stare. “Please… return to the hoverbed and let my people rebind your wounds for transport…”

Once Kavosi left the medunit, Tywyll Heliwr returned Nigdy Ciemny to his place.  She climbed back into the bed and sat waiting for the medics to redress her wounds. Once they were done putting the I.V.s back in and binding her wrists, Tywyll Heliwr laid back in her bed.  In preparation to move her, the medics put her things at the foot of the hover bed and handed her that curious rod like creature that Tywyll Heliwr seemed to dote over.