Ara'nov sprinted through the door and began rummaging through a cabinet. Nau'l, distracted from her datapad by her sister's abrupt entrance, looked up. "Whatcha doing, lead?"
"Fibercord," Ara answered distractedly. "Mereel." Finding what she had been looking for, she snatched up the coil of fibercord and dashed back out.
"Well, thanks for explaining yourself," Nau'l murmured, going back to her research as her other sister wandered through another doorway.
"Was that Ara?" Bes'la inquired, flicking her blonde hair behind her.
"Mmhmm," Nau'l answered, eyes glued to the screen.
"What was she doing?"
"Getting some cord… She said something about Mereel, too," Nau'l replied vaguely.
Bes'la blinked, thinking, then her mouth formed a silent O. "Uhoh…" she said. "I hope she hasn't done anything stupid yet."
Ara raced back to the tall support she'd seen Mereel and his brothers climbing, but they were nowhere in sight. Just as well… she thought, and slung the cord over her shoulders, stepping back a little to plan her ascent of the column. She began clambering up, getting several meters above the stark white floor before she had to stop and rest momentarily.
"Ara'nov."
The sound of her full name distracted her, and she turned her head, startled, looking down to see one of the Nulls standing below her, arms crossed. It took her a moment to recognize him. Of course it's the one with no sense of humor… "What, Ordo?"
"You're going to fall and kill yourself," he said matter-of-factly. "Come down."
"Am not!" she answered indignantly. "If you can do it, I can too."
"We've done it plenty of times before. You haven't. And I know you haven't," he continued, forestalling her next words. "You're doing it the wrong way."
"Am not! I can do it just as good as you." Ara returned her gaze to the column and climbed a few meters higher.
"Don't be stupid." Ordo was maddeningly calm. "Come down before you seriously injure yourself."
"If you don't quit distracting me, I will fall," she snapped.
He shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, chancing a glance straight down. She was quite a long way from the floor by now. Reaching up for the next handhold, her boot slipped. An involuntary gasp tore form her throat as she hung by one hand, scrabbling for another foothold. She swore quietly, feeling her fingers slipping, but there was only room on the grip for one hand. Her shoulders complained, protesting the strain, and she bit her lip, making a last-ditch attempt to clutch at another hold.
Bes'la skidded to a halt under the huge arch, watching in horrified silence as her sister plummeted down. Part of her mind was detached enough to wonder where Ara had learned such creative invective as her legs propelled her forward without conscious thought.
When she reached the foot of the soaring support, Ordo was kneeling over her sister. Ara was lying on her back, biting her lip and cradling one arm gingerly. "Let me see," Ordo said, reaching out a hand. Ara shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, and knocked his hand away with her good arm, leaving the other across her chest.
Bes'la sighed and exchanged a glance with Ordo, who scooted back a little. "Ar'ika, where does it hurt?" Bes'la asked soothingly.
Ara slowly sat up, trying to move her arm as little as possible. "Wrist," she croaked, flinching as Bes'la touched it.
Bes'la shook her head. "Oh dear… C'mon. Let's get you home."
To her surprise, Ara shook her head again. "Nuh-uh." Her jaw was set in the way Bes'la recognized all too well; it meant her sister wasn't about to back down. It was the same stubborn front she'd displayed when one of the other commandos had told her she couldn't do something, and Bes'la still remembered how that had ended. For Ara'nov, can't was a challenge. "I'm gonna climb the talyc thing."
"No, you're not." Bes'la tried to put Ma'am's authoritative edge in her voice. "You're coming with me and we're going to see what you've done to yourself now."
"Haven't done anything," Ara muttered sullenly. "Be fine in a minute."
"And if you don't," Bes'la continued, "Ordo and his brothers will come and sit on you until you see sense."
Ordo looked to be taken ever so slightly aback at being included in this argument, but quickly recovered. "We don't need my brothers," he offered. "In her present condition, I could hold her down alone."
Ara scowled blackly at him. "You could not."
Hoping to prevent a showdown, Bes'la quickly diverted her sister's attention. "Right, he probably couldn't, and do you really want to interrupt whatever the rest of them are doing? It's almost mealtime anyway."
Ara looked down at her wrist, which was swelling and beginning to turn an interesting color. "Ow," she said weakly.
"That's right, it hurts now. Let's go get some bacta on it." Bes'la helped her sister to her feet, slipping Ara's good arm over her shoulders and edging toward the door. Ara followed obediently, still holding the swollen wrist close to her chest. Ordo, after watching them for a moment and apparently ascertaining to his satisfaction that Ara would give no further trouble and that Bes'la was able to handle the situation on her own, knelt to recoil the forgotten fibercord before slipping away in another direction.
Nau'l looked up from her research to see a rather pale-faced Ara, half-supported by Bes'la, stagger through the door and collapse into a chair. Biting her lip, Ara leaned her head back and closed her eyes as Bes'la disappeared into another room to fetch the medkit.
"What did you do to yourself, General?" Nau'l asked, spotting the injury.
"That's what I'd like to know," came a new voice. A purple-clad woman appeared through a doorway, Bes'la trailing behind her.
"Oh yeah, and Zam's back," Nau'l added unnecessarily.
"Fell," Ara muttered in answer to the question, not opening her eyes.
"From what?" the woman asked, crossing the room in a few strides and standing above the almost-cringing girl.
"I don't think you're going to get it out of her, Zam," Bes'la commented. "She tried to go rafter-swinging like the Nulls, but never actually got to a rafter."
Zam raised an eyebrow, smiling wryly. "Oh really?"
Bes'la nodded. "And then after she fell on her wrist, she wanted to try it again."
Zam threw back her head and laughed, putting an affectionate hand on Ara's hair. Ara impatiently brushed it away. "I can't turn my back for five minutes, can I? Fix her up, Bes. Practice your field medic skills. I'm sure that's punishment enough. That, and not being able to use the arm…"