A voice stronger and clearer than the vague whisperings and shouted instructions came from right behind her, causing her to turn to find the source. The tone suggested that it was being directed towards her, rather than just being something that faded into the background - and, for reasons she couldn't explain, it caught her and forced her to pay attention, even though she hadn't seen the person that had spoken until they had done so.
Taller than she, the man that had addressed her was imposing, filling out his robes in a way that suggested health and strength, a vitality that came from something deeper than just eating right and getting enough sleep, though he was more slender than bulky. His hair was cut shorter than her own but for a short braid that hung down across one shoulder. It was his face that startled her the most: the dark red tattoo that crossed the bridge of his nose and that extended from ear-to-ear stood prominently, but the eyes that stared at her...they were a stormy grey, the pupils lacking focus, almost appearing to be covered with a milky film.
He can't see me...but he somehow knew I was here without bumping into me. Living among Jedi was becoming ever more confusing.
Still, it was clear enough from his slightly-exasperated tone that he wasn't going to simply stand there and wait for her to take it all in: there wasn't time to dawdle, particularly with someone in need.
At least someone's willing to give me a little direction, she reflected calmly, falling into step with the Jedi, her dark brown skirt swirling around her booted ankles as she stepped quickly to follow him. It didn't occur to her to question the instruction, or even to ask who he was to give her instruction: at a time like this, it made no sense to stand on ceremony, or look to the vaunted hierarchy established within the Order to decide whether or not to obey.
There's a job to be done: go and do it!
"I'm Teynara, though most people I know call me Tey," she observed, returning the simple politeness of exchanging names, even if this felt like an odd time to do it.
And he didn't call himself 'Master' whatever...so maybe he's like me, a student? She looked at him appraisingly as they walked, and further examination suggested that this was so: like her, he was still relatively young, though past the cusp of adolescence, into his adult years.
Possibly a full Jedi, but also perhaps not. Regardless, he knows his way around, and that's more than I do.
We do have a patient to attend to, Tey, she reminded herself sternly as they approached, recognising that now wasn't a good time to be getting distracted by curiousity or social concerns. Someone whose condition might have started out as relatively stable could decline quickly if action wasn't taken to keep them that way - and having medical personnel standing around gossiping wouldn't be helpful there!
Besides, Jalen seems to have his priorities straight, and I can hardly do less, can I?
The injured patient had been lowered gently to the floor, carried in on a medical stretcher of the manual variety - suggesting that there weren't enough of the repulsorlift-propelled variety to spare.
Or too many patients to move in a short space of time. That was a frightening possibility. What beds were available had all been taken up - things had quickly escalated, and the room was filling up fast with people needing treatment.
And having something lodged inside your chest is a good way to escalate from wounded to dying rather quickly. So, a second pair of hands it is.
Teynara did have to wonder how it was possible for a blind man to even see the patient's condition, much less know what needed to be done next and be capable of seeing it through: he didn't seem to have any ocular implants or other means of assessing his environment.
Maybe someone told him, and now I have to be his eyes while he offers me instruction? She wasn't sure how this was supposed to work, but her own medical training had been fairly limited up to this point - and removing shrapnel from someone's chest wasn't something she felt confident doing herself. Besides which, you'd need blood for transfusion, a pressor field to help stop any bleeding that might occur as a result of their intervention, and a tissue regenerator wouldn't hurt.
Can't use all that by yourself!
"Okay, where do we start?," she said softly, pitching her voice to a soft whisper so that her fellow student might hear, but the patient would not. Nobody wants to be assisted by a medic who isn't quite sure what your best course of treatment is: at a time like this, you'd want someone calmly in control who could minimise the risk and reassure the patient that they weren't in any danger.
I can offer that, but not the confidence of knowing exactly how to treat you... "I'll follow your lead."