Participants: | [member="Kei Raxis"] | [member="Draconis Caesar"] |
The shattering of glass caught her attention, and the young woman looked up from her position at the diagnostics terminal, reading through the course of treatment suggested based on the system's analysis of their patient. A splash of warm liquid caught the side of her face, and touching it with a slender hand, she noted how similar to Bacta it seemed. No, not similar to it. This is Bacta. She recognised the odd texture to it, the warmth that seemed to come from it, even when it was not heated. And the smell was obvious: a slightly antibacterial smell, the sort of sterile scent that was common to so many pharmaceuticals. But where did you come from?
Grey-blue eyes looking up in alarm, Teynara noted the shattered bacta tank in which her newest patient had rested, the man now deposited upon the floor on his hands and knees, skin covered in remnants of the Bacta that now leaked from the broken tank, sharp shards of glass now littering the floor of the medical bay. He shouldn't be out of the tank yet, and what in the name of the Force shattered the tank?, she wondered, alarmed despite herself, feeling a rising panic in her throat that she did her best to push back. Those tanks are resistant even to blaster fire. They don't shatter easily. What had happened?
She got her answer a moment later as the patient looked upward, staring straight at her, emotion in his eyes that was darker than any she had expected to find here: no panic, no concern for his own safety, just raw savage anger, perhaps, his pupils dilating with a fiery amber, as though reflecting flames. No patient left at the mercy of his injuries, this: no, this was a being fully conscious and alert, caught in the grip of motivations she could only wonder at. His words, when he spoke, were little more than a growl, savage and carrying a hint of a threat.
"I don't have your lightsaber," she said, wanting to move closer to him that she might offer aid, but rendered immobile by the recognition that he was perhaps more of a threat than she would have expected from an injured man. Force, if can shatter a bacta tank, he'd have no trouble snapping me in half. "Do you know where you are? You were injured, and your friends brought you here for treatment," the blonde added calmly, raising both hands in front of her so that the young man could see that she didn't intend him harm. "You're on Deneba, in the Jedi Temple. We only want to help you."
Exhaling a soft breath, the young woman took a step backwards, feeling bacta flowing beneath her boots as it gushed from the remnants of the tank from which he had emerged. No doubt much of the medical bay floor was coated in it now, but her eyes were fixed only upon the man kneeling on that same floor a few meters in front of her. She couldn't tell whether he would be dangerous, or whether he simply needed help, but until she was sure, the Healer wasn't going to take any chances.
A hand reached out to the nearest console and quickly tapped in a code that would send the entire Medical Wing into lockdown. The treatment room she was stood in now, the patient recovery wing, the medical supplies store and the waiting room beyond, where the patient's friend could be found: all these were locked out from the rest of the Temple, secured behind heavy blast doors that ensured none could enter, and none could leave. The others in the Temple would be alerted, of course, but that would simply alert them to a problem. Something told Teynara that this situation needed containment.
Now it was just her, and the patient. The only other person close would be the one that had brought the young man here: the one standing just beyond the inner door, waiting for word of the treatment. You heard the smash, didn't you?, she hoped. Come and check on your friend. Please.
