(no subject)
[Shiori - short, Japanese, always smiling - is on the ground, hunched beside her datapad. Her shoulders shake with what might be mistaken at first for laughter. Very soon, though, it is very clear that she’s not laughing. She’s sobbing. She looks up, blinking blearily at her surroundings. The tears stop for a moment, but only for a moment, just long enough for a look of recognition to cross her face. Then she spots her datapad. She pushes it away from her across the floor. She’d meant to turn it off at the same time, but had missed the button.]
[So she cries, the last image from home - two bodies slumped on the ground beside each other as if they had just dozed off - burned onto the inside of her eyelids. She sees them lying there, no matter how tight she shuts her eyes, and she can’t open them because then she’s back on Coruscant, and the fear and uncertainty of war wash back over her, and the pain of losing her legs, and so she keeps her eyes closed and stays with the bodies.]
[So she cries, the last image from home - two bodies slumped on the ground beside each other as if they had just dozed off - burned onto the inside of her eyelids. She sees them lying there, no matter how tight she shuts her eyes, and she can’t open them because then she’s back on Coruscant, and the fear and uncertainty of war wash back over her, and the pain of losing her legs, and so she keeps her eyes closed and stays with the bodies.]