Re: The Sith hits the fan...
Rhijans, as always, seems to have the situation under control, professional that he is. It gives the gratified Shard a moment to take a breather - her heart pounds wildly against her ribs, and she struggles to control her breath. Out of shape. It has been a long, long time since she has needed to move with such smooth control, and only the momentary, perfect balance allowed it.
Stress and exhaustion have taken that balance's place.
Haarmon's smile receives a blank stare in reply. Better? Shard can't quite parse the man's point. Her eyes rove around the room, falling on decapitated head, on dead bodies burned through their armor, on the troopers' crumpled bodies in the hallway. How is this better?
Juragga's rumble cuts through the meandering thoughts, and part of her reacts instinctively, providing an answer. "I didn't," she mutters, still raking the room with her gaze. "I didn't..." Then her mind catches up with her tongue. "...didn't quite get that, Juragga, sorry." Fool! she curses herself. For a long moment she stares at the Wookie like an animal in the headlight of an oncoming speeder; then Shard grabs the standing trooper's arm.
"Sit," she orders, pointing with her pistol. "Quiet."
At least the Ubese is alive; injured, but alive.
Once the trooper is safely seated, she glances around the room again. Rhijans is in converse with the Ubese; Jacobs has a helmet for scanning; Haarmon is at the terminal. The droid is...complaining, nothing new there. That left Juragga. Lips thin, she studies the Wookie for a long moment. "You...all right, Juragga?" Her gaze roves over the fur. "They didn't hit you, did they?"
An evasion, yes, but her concern is true; trust a Wookie to suffer several injuries without complaint.