Future Sight
At the very least, the chairs here were comfortable.
Sat in the medical center’s infusion suite, Eurydice watched the transparent tube connected to her remaining arm. It fed a mixture of bacta, iron, and various other vitamins and minerals she’d been assured would aid her recovery, into her bruised body.
The Jedi raid of Tython had nearly ended her life. A kindly young man had picked her body from the rubble and administered first aid; his timely intervention was likely the only reason she’d survived.
Though alive, healing would be a process. The wound in her abdomen had been made with some sort of Jedi tool that left her connection to the Force scattered and muted.
The most damaging aspect, in her view, was the severing of her arm. The phantom sensations were difficult to live with, and Eurydice had already dropped quite a few objects she’d tried to pass to her absent right hand without thinking. Fortunately, the lack of limb was easily disguised by the long, billowing fabric of her robe.
Eurydice sighed, settled back into her chair, and idly picked at a loose thread on the hem of her sleeve. Each infusion left her feeling a little less like a walking corpse, but they could be incredibly dull.
Varin Mortifer
