Waking from deep sedation was much like waking from a slumber, except it was decidedly far more disorienting, especially after all that Haro had been though. The pilot felt as though he'd
just dozed off a few minutes ago, yet he was waking up in an entirely unfamiliar place. His body was pleasantly numbed from painkillers but the trauma of the incredible pain in his torso still lingered. His eye lids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each as he slowly blinked them open, trying to clear the blur from his vision and make sense of where he was. The room was a sterile light grey, the lights were dim and the air smelled like disinfectant. The only sound was Haro's breathing and a faint rhythmic beeping of a cardiac monitor. He was in a hospital room, and a nice one at that—a private one, even. He was alone, though he was sure he was being monitored, and his first coherent that followed identifying his surroundings was about
Leshanna Dromar
and
Naamino Zuukamano
. He assumed getting someone of his lowly station set up in a private hospital room fit for a decorated general, especially in the aftermath of an invasion, had to have been their doing.
He groggily fantasized that his companions were nearby, waiting for the nurse to tell them that he was awake and that they could see him, but he knew better. They were both beholden to the war machine that was the Sith Order and they were obligated to answer it's call in a time of war, even if it was to receive punishment. His heart ached for Naami, knowing he was probably currently facing the consequences of saving Haro's life as opposed to carrying out his orders during the battle. Frustration flared in Haro at the unfairness of it all, but there was no sense in brooding about it now. Not only was Naami a valuable asset to the Order but he was highly competent when dealing with military bureaucracy so Haro had no doubt he could handle the situation. Though the thought helped mitigate his concern, it didn't make him miss the big zabrak any less. Maybe Leshanna was close by though. It would mean the stars to see her beautiful face. He glanced at the door, then he scanned the room for ways to communicate within reach and found his datapad on his bedside table.
As he went to move, the dull ache of his wounds brought him back to the chaos of battle—crashing his fighter in the streets of New Shoengen, getting shot, being closer to death than he'd ever been before. The beeping of the cardiac monitor picked up pace and Haro took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. He was safe now. Gingerly, he picked up the datapad and pulled up his messages.
Hey Leshy, just waking up. Are you close by? I'd love to see you.
He closed that thread and opened the one with Naami.