The Bold and the Floating

In the deep recesses of the Asipra’s medical wing, an occupant floats in the Bacta tank. Glendrya is a frequent flyer of the medbay, much to the persistent annoyance of the chief medical officer. She’s been floating all night. What was the cause of injury this time? Even Glen doesn’t remember as her eyes open after a night of floating.

The healing fluids have once more done their job. The lavender-skinned Togruta looks around, hoping Doctor Rosy, the aforementioned Chief, isn’t there to greet her. Scar tissue is enough of a memento from her recent mission. She doesn’t need a tail or temporary lizard tongue or whatever punishment the volatile doctor might have planned for her.

Inhaling deeply, Glen looks around. She’s survived once again, it seems. Her master Varkulan, the breaker of chains, has long since stopped visiting her in the medbay. It’s probably become an annoyance for him as well to see her just floating there due to her own boldness. Some would say carelessness. No. They don’t understand Glendrya if they say carelessness.

Boldness is how you break chains. Like Varkulan. He kills slavers, like the ones who captured her. Used her. He was bold. Glen only finds herself in the Bacta tank because she’s not got that power the Sith have. The one to move things without touching them. The one that chokes slavers without having to wrap chains around their necks. How she wishes she had those powers.

Instead, Glen fights the fight with her blaster. She’s gotten pretty good with the old thing. Took if off the first person she killed: the slave owner in the Huttese bar she was forced to serve drinks and do other things. She took it right out his holster and shot him right in the chest with it. It’s a big hand cannon. She calls it “Hammer” cause it does as much damage when she hits a slaver with it as when she shoots one.

She knocks on the glass container, trying to draw a nurse. A droid comes over. From its metallic arm, it projects a countdown. Two minutes until release. She just might make it out in time!

Glen’s body feels renewed. Carbon scoring and the searing burns of penetrating bolts have washed away to relatively smooth skin once more. She looks to a scar on her left bicep. Oh ya! She was stabbed there this time. Some guy with a knife. The hole in her left arm was gone before she woke. Thank the Force for Bacta.

Then she sees a flash of red.

Damn. Rosy approaches the glass container. The doctor stares at Glen, menacing. Damn. Every time. Just two minutes. Maybe Rosy is in a good mood? Sure. Maybe Glen will sprout wings and fly out of the medbay…