Rwookrrorro Central Hospital
Rwookrrorro
Kashyyyk
He’d been here months. Well, almost three months, but it felt so much longer, and the memory of how he had gotten here and for a week afterwards was vague, or entirely absent, and patchy for a while beyond that. The last he could remember before his hospitalisation was blurred with pain, and for weeks after the day he was rather disposed of at the hospital by a co-hunters remorse, a plague of clips of the tarentatek he’d been set as bait for - against his will - made his long sleep so fitful he was tranquilised on several occasions to keep stitches and more from tearing, until he could be put in bacta.
Finally waking up with the most awareness he had had in over two months, still floating in the substance was a shock, and that was putting it mildly. Sid had thrashed, not immediately recognising where he was, making the transparisteel enclosure groan with his other, unharnessed abilities, until nurses could talk him down, and get his mind to stop racing and remember. It had been a couple weeks since that day, and while his body was largely healed, his mind wasn’t yet over the trauma. No, that would take much more time.
And then there was the matter of what had put him on the road to here in the first place. What had caused the hospital staff to call in for some manner of nullifier for him after he unconsciously lashed out with his maternal inheritance in many of his semi-coherent states. It was what had him sitting in a patient lounge, turning a pendant over in his red hands that was the only link to the Jedi from a larger tribe who’d birthed him, fashioned with a cut of the blue focusing crystal from her lightsaber. It was what had the Jedi coming to meet him, now.
He wasn’t certain it was a gift.
Rwookrrorro
Kashyyyk
He’d been here months. Well, almost three months, but it felt so much longer, and the memory of how he had gotten here and for a week afterwards was vague, or entirely absent, and patchy for a while beyond that. The last he could remember before his hospitalisation was blurred with pain, and for weeks after the day he was rather disposed of at the hospital by a co-hunters remorse, a plague of clips of the tarentatek he’d been set as bait for - against his will - made his long sleep so fitful he was tranquilised on several occasions to keep stitches and more from tearing, until he could be put in bacta.
Finally waking up with the most awareness he had had in over two months, still floating in the substance was a shock, and that was putting it mildly. Sid had thrashed, not immediately recognising where he was, making the transparisteel enclosure groan with his other, unharnessed abilities, until nurses could talk him down, and get his mind to stop racing and remember. It had been a couple weeks since that day, and while his body was largely healed, his mind wasn’t yet over the trauma. No, that would take much more time.
And then there was the matter of what had put him on the road to here in the first place. What had caused the hospital staff to call in for some manner of nullifier for him after he unconsciously lashed out with his maternal inheritance in many of his semi-coherent states. It was what had him sitting in a patient lounge, turning a pendant over in his red hands that was the only link to the Jedi from a larger tribe who’d birthed him, fashioned with a cut of the blue focusing crystal from her lightsaber. It was what had the Jedi coming to meet him, now.
He wasn’t certain it was a gift.