Some tubes and wires get removed!

When the woman sees that Aly's still uncomfortable, she looks the remaining ones over more closely and removes a few more.

"You can leave the room, now, if you keep these with you." The woman takes hold of the metal pole with the hooks that the bags-of-whatever hang from. She moves it back and forth, demonstrating that the pole can roll along the floor to keep the ends of the tubes within reach of her if she gets out of bed. "I'll need to show you where the toilet is, now that we've removed the hookup for that."

Pause.

"Do you know how toilets work?"

Nod. She looks at the bags-of-whatever and names them in hopes of an explanation.

"We had to make some... changes to your body, to make it easier for you to live here? And those changes need to heal, and [gibberish names of stuff] will make them heal better."

She offers Aly a hand.

"Be careful standing up. The inertial forces on this habitat are very strong, you could hurt yourself if you fall."

Well that's concerning. She accepts the hand and steps very carefully.

She's led to the door, and then out into the hall. The woman shows her to a room that she claims contains a toilet, although the thing inside only resembles what Aly's used to in the vaguest possible sense.

"There are some important people who'll want to talk to you now that you can talk. Do you think you need to rest longer before that?"

Headshake. She names the toilet with a questioning inflection.

The woman explains.

Toilets here are, evidently, extraordinarily complicated for some reason.

"Will you need help, do you think? If not, I can go ahead and get a room ready for you and the Scions."

With the explanation she imagines she can manage. She waves her away.

She manages!

When she emerges into the hallway again, the woman from earlier is standing a couple doors down and sort of smiling-nervously in her general direction.

She beckons Aly foward and inclines her head towards the door she's holding open.

"They're ready to see you, now."

So Aly follows her, pulling her pole of fluids.

There's a round table in this next room, with comfy-if-unsually-shaped chairs set out around it.
There are two people already seated at the table. Both are elderly but fit, calm but alert, and dressed in a fashion that she'd wager passed for fancy around here (it'd certainly be fancy back home).
If she's ever encountered royalty before? This pair of women probably remind her of that.
"Please, sit down," the nearer of the two says.

Down she sits, conscious of the weird outfit they've put her in but assuming it's either appropriate or understood to be necessary for some reason.

Her state of near-undress is not missed by her hosts. One of them gives the doctor-woman a questioning glance.

The doctor says: “You asked to see her as soon as possible?”

The glancing one says to the doctor: “That’s Fair.”

She then turns to Aly.

“My name is Edith Trunhardt. What’s yours?”

"Alymbel Mahri."

Edith’s counterpart speaks up.

“The pilot claimed you simply appeared in her SLAYER’s cockpit. Is that correct?”

That word, SLAYER... she can feel the Capital Letters behind the enunciation of it. Without those capital letters the word would just mean ‘killer’ but with them it evokes something bigger. It brings to mind that huge armored thing she saw drifting in the dark back when she was climbing that Ladder Of Stars.

Edith side eyes her companion.

”Sanjana. No cause to be so blunt with our guest.”

Aly nods.

Sanjana seems to entirely ignore Edith's call not to be blunt.

She asks another pointed question:

"Are you from Earth?"

Headshake.

"Why would you even ask her that? How would that make any sense?"

"She has human DNA. Unaltered human DNA. Her genome resembles my parents' more closely than mine does."

Aly has surprisingly little idea what any of this means considering the implanted language.

"Never mind any of that, Miss Mahri. The bottom line is that we don't know how you got here, we don't know where you're from, but we'd very much like to help you any way we can."

Aly raises an eyebrow.

"Yes. There's some concern you might be an enemy spy but, frankly, if our enemy has developed the capacity to drop agents out of thin air and directly onto our pilots then presumably the war's lost already."

Edith seems to be observing Aly quite closely. What she sees is anyone's guess.

"Indeed, you've had the bad luck to be dropped into an active war zone. In more peaceful times there'd be more good faith to go around, more options to pursue and more time to pursue them in."