Emalda's head was aching by the time the mechanics managed to finish cutting through the screen. Closing her eyes had eased the worst of it and Ben had been quiet for nearly twenty minutes. She didn't actually feel the moment when the screen fell away from where it had been pressing against her numb ankle. She heard the grunt of the mechanics as they caught it before it hit the ground. The mechanics started reaching in to pull Ben's legs out first. She felt the movement of air, which if not fresh, at least hadn't been trapped in the bunk with her and Ben for the last hour. Then sensation began to return to her foot, like a thousand jaku needles prodding her flesh.

"Oh," said Emalda, opening her eyes and blinking as the light sparked off stabbing pains behind her eyelids. "Oh."
Ben was turning around in the newly opened space to see what was wrong when he leant on his recently released wrist. With a surprised grunt, he planted face-first into the mattress as the numb wrist refused to take his weight. Poppi wrapped both his large arms around Ben's waist and eased the Jedi Knight completely (if not graciously) free of the bunk. Emalda tried shaking her affected foot but in attempting not to kick Ben in the head, she kneed the top of the bunk hard enough to leave a bruise.
"Settle, settle," said Poppi gruffly.
"I don't want to settle," said Emalda testily. "I want to scream. I want to get out."

Poppi settled Ben on the ground, where the Armistice's doctor and Qui-Gon both converged on him. The doctor flashed a light in Ben's eyes, making him wince and grimace after the dim light in the bunk. Qui-Gon knelt beside him, clasping Ben's shoulder tightly.
"Well," said Ben, grimacing and squinting in the light of the cabin. "What took you so long?"
Qui-Gon smiled at Ben's irritated frown, "You're welcome. This is Poppi. He and his shipmates rescued us."
Ben's frown eased as he turned to Poppi, "We are most grateful for your help. Thank you."

Emalda slid down into the space Ben had just vacated, twisting her head and neck out of the corner and swearing fluently in her native tongue as the movement only made her headache worse. It was also at that point that she got her first clear look at the rest of the cabin. Wetness gathered at the edges of her eyes. It was only the thought that the stern Qui-Gon and a bunch of strangers were watching that stopped the tears from flowing over. Poppi and his apprentice reached into the bunk and seized Emalda's legs, blocking her view of the devastation.
"I'm not sure I want to come out..." she croaked.

The two Kuhds ignored her and tugged hard, catching her before she could flop onto the damaged cabin floor. She squirmed as their hands gripped body parts that were not made to be gripped. Her squirming made it difficult for them to hold her but they managed to set her on the ground without dropping her. The doctor turned her attention to Emalda once she'd finished with Ben. The doctor was a large Kuhd who smelled just as much of grease as the work crews around her.
"Can you tell me your name?" asked the doctor briskly.
"Emalda."
"Are you in any pain?"
"No. Well, except for the headache."

The doctor flashed her light into Emalda's eyes, making the pain in her head spike to a new level. Beside her, Ben stood up a little too quickly and wobbled. Qui-Gon supported Ben until he regained his balance.
"Doctor," said Ben. "I think our oxygen levels were falling towards the end. I suspect it might have affected Emalda's physiology more than mine."
The Doctor frowned peered back at Emalda's eyes again.
"Ah, contacts!" said the Doctor, looking surprised. "So, not human then?"
"Ekash," said Emalda faintly.
"Not familiar with that one," said the Doctor. "You don't have any obvious physical injuries. Tell me if the headache gets any worse."
"I've got my own headache medication," said Emalda. "It's in the cargo bay."
Emalda saw the Doctor wince and didn't think to ask why.
"Even so," said the Doctor. "I'd like to monitor you for a few hours, just to be safe."

"We'll get the two of you to the infirmary," spoke up Qui-Gon. "And while you two are resting, I will find whoever planted the bomb."
Ben nodded attentively but Emalda brushed Poppi's hands away and stood up under her own power. She was relatively steady on her feet, considering.
"Bomb?" she said faintly. "You mean somebody did this on purpose?"
"You need rest," said Poppi, preparing to scoop her up in his arms.
"Hey," said Emalda, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. "I'm fine. It's just my head."
Flustered, Poppi stepped back quickly and stumbled on the uneven floor. The Doctor tried to catch him and they both went down. Emalda held out a hand to help them up again but Poppi's apprentice had already hauled them both back onto their feet.

Emalda was left standing there with her hand out awkwardly, feeling useless. She drew her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest. She addressed Qui-Gon.
"What was that you said about a bomb?" she asked.
"You need to get to the infirmary and rest," said Qui-Gon calmly. "I will tell you as soon as I know anything for sure."
Emalda huffed and went to walk out of the cabin. Distracted, she made it to where the doorway had been before she registered the wreck that had been the cargo bay. She let her breath out in a noisy rasp and froze where she stood. Someone might have called her name but the only thing she heard was a roaring of white noise in her head.

Yulana stood in a gulley of purple ferns, her loose-swinging tail enjoying the freedom of the kilts that Emalda refused to wear. The sprawling purple forests of their home world surrounded them, hiding them from prying eyes. Her eyes were free of the contacts and disguise she wore when she worked as a starship designer in a clinical, sanitised office. When it came to the traditional dances, Yulana would never have Emalda's grace or timing but she believed in the old customs in ways Emalda never could. That they were forbidden had not stopped her, only driven her and others like her into secrecy. She knew that to be discovered would have her imprisoned or executed by their government but she didn't care. She was happy.

Yulana was smearing dyes into her skin, the patterns and knots the same as those on the nose of the Fahren. Yulana looked up, smiling as she saw Emalda and stretching out a hand to welcome her sister. Emalda wanted to shout and throw away the ceremonial dye she later discovered had been poisoned with heavy metals. She wanted to but there was no point - not any more. It was already too late.

Emalda blinked and she was standing inside her sister's ruined ship, tears running down her face and Ben's arms around her. Ben's grip felt awkward, uncertain and unaccustomed to offering physical comfort. She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face in his neck. His beard was rough against her cheek. She tightened her grip, the absurd thought crossing her mind that if she could just hold him tight enough then she'd never lose him. She knew it was ridiculous but she didn't - couldn't - relax her grip until he grunted in discomfort. Her throat felt so tight she found it difficult to speak.

"I'm sorry," she said, not knowing who she was apologising to.
"It's okay," said Ben softly.
"I'm sorry," she said again, not knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for," he said.

She opened her eyes and risked a look over Ben's shoulder. Poppi, his apprentice, and the doctor were all watching with varying degrees of pity. Emalda quickly glanced away from them, not wanting to see that. Qui-Gon had averted his gaze, giving her at least a partial illusion of privacy. Emalda pulled back from Ben, raising her face to his with tears still running wetly down her cheeks.
"Do you feel up to walking down to the infirmary?" asked Ben gently, his eyes fixed on hers and blotting out the presence of anybody else in the room.
She nodded and let him guide her across the ruined carpet and down the ramp. She very carefully refrained from looking at the damaged Fahren or at anybody they passed. Ben walked with his arms around her, equally reluctant to let go.