Hera Syndulla (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
for_everyone) wrote2017-10-11 10:14 pm
for_everyone) wrote2017-10-11 10:14 pm
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The room is nearly bare – there's a light, and a cot, and a refresher down the hall. Nothing about it suggested any importance to its occupant, other than that she had the room to herself. It wasn't meant to be anything more than minimally livable, and Hera doesn't mind. It makes things easier. Her pack is left in a corner. When she finally had the chance, she'd climbed into her cot, and slept for a few hours.
Since waking, Hera had checked in with the bridge officers, and then visited the refresher. She's in a fresh uniform, but climbed back on her cot. Rather than lie down again, Hera sits, crossing her legs and resting her hands over her knees. She bows her head, closes her eyes, and listens. At first to the empty silence of her cabin, but then, slowly, the footsteps in the hall beyond her door, the vibrations along the walls, the voices from the other cabins. Sometimes she imagines she can hear the hum of the ship itself, ebbing and flowing like a roaring heartbeat.
Since waking, Hera had checked in with the bridge officers, and then visited the refresher. She's in a fresh uniform, but climbed back on her cot. Rather than lie down again, Hera sits, crossing her legs and resting her hands over her knees. She bows her head, closes her eyes, and listens. At first to the empty silence of her cabin, but then, slowly, the footsteps in the hall beyond her door, the vibrations along the walls, the voices from the other cabins. Sometimes she imagines she can hear the hum of the ship itself, ebbing and flowing like a roaring heartbeat.
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It certainly seems like she has a strategy, at the very least.
"Is that a question of personal preference, or . . . "
Maybe it is just the way the Resistance (and the Rebellion, long before) handles interpersonal matters.
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She can't stop that from sounding a little condescending, but as she leads them this time to a turbolift, she turns back and adds, now entirely serious, "I can see how you'd be unused to that."
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"There is a great deal of truth to that. Habits among the Chiss are . . . somewhat different, and I have not had much company -- good or bad -- on a regular basis in quite some time."
It is one reason why he is asking all these questions.
"I am slower to readjust than, perhaps, I had hoped."
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"Then maybe you could use this practice."
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Again that thin smile passes across his face.
"Though perhaps I ought to try it outside of your company, eventually?"
Not soon, however. Things are still too delicate for that.
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"We'll see."
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The elevator door opens just then, and Thrawn carefully steps inside.