In an altered galaxy far, far away the Kaminoans ended up creating what could potentially be their deadliest enemy, skilled and sneaky enough to expose their heinous crimes to the Republic and put them out of business. They threw everything they cou...
"Oh." She recalled being really tired, 'But I actually fell asleep?! And the Sergeant had to stoop so low as to carry me back here?!' Talla would never be able to look him in the eye again.
A florescent blue light scanned her leg, and while the results shocked the medic it also made him sigh in relief. "Well, surprisingly you're not experiencing any repercussions from overdoing it, so you can leave today as scheduled."
Embarrassment gone in a flash, she instantaneously perked up. "Really?"
The medic went to the cupboard and pulled out her tunic and pants that Tech had brought yesterday, plopping them in her expectant hands. "Get dressed, then we'll discuss your after-release care." He left to give her privacy, locking the door behind him.
Her heart fluttered in anticipation. Talla yanked on her clothes, almost toppling over when she tried to shove her leg down into the leg hole with too much enthusiasm.
She was being released! And would still be able to keep fighting!
Just shy of a week ago, Talla thought that she was going to be returned to Kamino, but thanks to her cybernetics she wouldn't be decommissioned!
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With a bright smile she let the medic back in, too excited to even care about the fact she was back in the itchy robes all clones were forced to wear. Admittedly, during the non-stressful times a tiny part of her was envious her team was able to wear regular, comfortable clothes they called 'civvies.'
The medic was quick to turn her attention back to him, putting his hands on hips and towering over her so he gave off a superior air that she would hopefully respect and therefore heed to his commands. "Remember: just because you're leaving, doesn't mean you're fully healed. Take it easy for another three days minimum to get used to your cybernetics." He handed the new cyborg a small care kit for the droid leg and jabbed a finger in her face. "Don't repeat your mistakes yesterday and the day before yesterday by overdoing it."
Talla rolled her eyes impatiently. "Understood. Anything else?"
He huffed, "Well, since I know that you'll still walk more than recommended for someone in your condition, I'm giving you prescription strength symoxin for the pain you'll undoubtedly inflict on yourself." He pressed the bottle into her hand, and she was ashamed of her inability to remain idle for long, yet he wasn't about to give her sympathy. "But, and I cannot stress this enough, absolutely no missions until you can walk without any side effects, do I make myself clear?"
Wanting to ease the tension, Talla grinned playfully, pocketed the drugs and care kit, and recited with a mock salute, "Sir, yes, sir!" To which he rolled his eyes, prompting her to sober up and sincerely say, "Thank you. For everything."
He gave a snide chuckle that did bruise her feelings a little despite deserving it. The medic merely snatched up the sack by the door that held her armor. "I think I've gotten more grey hairs from helping you this last week than in my entire medical career since the War started." Was his stiff 'You're welcome.' But then an amiable pat her on the shoulder assured her all was well, and he led her out of the room to where the rest of the Bad Batch had arrived, and were waiting in the hallway to escort her back to the Marauder. "Keep her outta trouble, boys." Were his parting words, tossing Wrecker the bag and marching off to handle his next patient who would hopefully be less stressful and more compliant.
