![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
OOM: The Storm Breaks.
Sep. 6th, 2015 04:24 pm(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)
Ibani wakes to the sight of Khem Val standing silently by her bedside, peering down at her, which would be enough to set anyone's nerves twanging.
"You danced with Death, Little Sith, but my Mistress has not yet claimed you." That would explain why she feels like she's been trampled by a herd of Bantha.
She coughs as she sits up, bringing up small amounts of blood. Something must have caused some of the small capillaries in her lungs to break, more coughing? "Darth Lachris may yet send me to your Mistress. How long until the ground attack starts?"
Khem Val sneers. "She is a coward. If she intends to rule this planet, she should crush the rebels beneath her heel, not send another to the battle in her stead."
Ibani makes a noise of agreement, but raises an eyebrow as he hasn't answered her question yet.
"Four hours until we must take transport to the front lines, little Sith."
"Better than I feared," she replies, exhaling deeply. She doesn't ask how he's doing, as she knows by now that Khem Val does not take sympathy well. "I must not delay any further in preparing for the battle."
She slips into a meditative state and feels the web of life around Sobrik pulsing with emotion and vitality. She reaches with delicate mental fingers to siphon off some of that excess vitality, mending the damage to her body and refilling the reserves of power drained by the ordeal.
Ibani wakes to the sight of Khem Val standing silently by her bedside, peering down at her, which would be enough to set anyone's nerves twanging.
"You danced with Death, Little Sith, but my Mistress has not yet claimed you." That would explain why she feels like she's been trampled by a herd of Bantha.
She coughs as she sits up, bringing up small amounts of blood. Something must have caused some of the small capillaries in her lungs to break, more coughing? "Darth Lachris may yet send me to your Mistress. How long until the ground attack starts?"
Khem Val sneers. "She is a coward. If she intends to rule this planet, she should crush the rebels beneath her heel, not send another to the battle in her stead."
Ibani makes a noise of agreement, but raises an eyebrow as he hasn't answered her question yet.
"Four hours until we must take transport to the front lines, little Sith."
"Better than I feared," she replies, exhaling deeply. She doesn't ask how he's doing, as she knows by now that Khem Val does not take sympathy well. "I must not delay any further in preparing for the battle."
She slips into a meditative state and feels the web of life around Sobrik pulsing with emotion and vitality. She reaches with delicate mental fingers to siphon off some of that excess vitality, mending the damage to her body and refilling the reserves of power drained by the ordeal.
