[He'd been given private quarters—which was proof that he had not, indeed, been demoted. (Considering he'd half-expected to be courtmartialed…? …though really he hadn't expected to survive for any of it.) It was stepping into these that finally caught his senses up to the intellectual knowledge: they weren't on Yavin 4 anymore. The Massassi temple room had been simultaneously more angular and less symmetrical. They'd built Echo Base themselves, cannibalized from starships.
A brief survey of the room yielded nothing unexpected. He'd been issued regulation clothes, including cold-weather gear; datapad, data terminal, comm, a new transponder—with, yes, not just his insignia and homing capability but a hidden lullaby pill; utility belt, cot with bedding. He'd have to visit munitions to get a replacement blaster and holster. (Or, rather, he was allowed two.) That was it. Replacements of gear were from coming back in his shirtsleeves from Scarif. There was nothing personal. Of course, he'd had nothing personal to replace. The closest thing, which made him slightly smile, was that they'd bothered to find another Corellian-cut field jacket for him. Thank you, Draven.
There was (thank you, Force) a droid niche, currently empty. Kay was still undergoing repairs, too.
Cassian was appalled to find himself dizzy and breathless. The cold air might be partially to blame. But mostly, it confirmed what Medical had insisted: that he only be allowed to his own quarters if he didn't push himself. He sat on the edge of the cot, then indeed lay back, and may have dozed off for a bit—easier than he did as a rule. Until the doorchime went.]
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Date: 2019-06-27 03:00 am (UTC)A brief survey of the room yielded nothing unexpected. He'd been issued regulation clothes, including cold-weather gear; datapad, data terminal, comm, a new transponder—with, yes, not just his insignia and homing capability but a hidden lullaby pill; utility belt, cot with bedding. He'd have to visit munitions to get a replacement blaster and holster. (Or, rather, he was allowed two.) That was it. Replacements of gear were from coming back in his shirtsleeves from Scarif. There was nothing personal. Of course, he'd had nothing personal to replace. The closest thing, which made him slightly smile, was that they'd bothered to find another Corellian-cut field jacket for him. Thank you, Draven.
There was (thank you, Force) a droid niche, currently empty. Kay was still undergoing repairs, too.
Cassian was appalled to find himself dizzy and breathless. The cold air might be partially to blame. But mostly, it confirmed what Medical had insisted: that he only be allowed to his own quarters if he didn't push himself. He sat on the edge of the cot, then indeed lay back, and may have dozed off for a bit—easier than he did as a rule. Until the doorchime went.]