Citadel Station looms large ahead of them, slowly orbiting Telos and casting a broad shadow over the blasted surface below. The Ebon Hawk comes in for a landing in the hangar they're directed to, setting down light as a feather and powering down with barely a complaint. Uthuar and Sharra had done good work on her, with T3-M4's help.
Handily there are all these pillows and blankets around them. He reclines on some of the latter and pulls the former around them. Warmth... might help? She doesn't like being cold.
..s'good.
Curled up tight, face against his neck, wrapped up in warm and blankets and him.
He holds her.
After a minute or so, he pulls out his communicator, sending off a text message before setting it down beside them.
Isk enters the room soon after the text, carrying a large water jug and some cups with them.
<Am not serving droid,> they grumble at Atton.
"Sure," he takes the jug and sets it beside them, reaching for a cup to fill, "Thanks anyway."
Sharra turns her face a little to look at them, but can't... she just watches Atton pour.
"I'm fine," she says. Stops. "The Council didn't cut me off from the Force. Or put blocks on my mind. I think. I did it."
"Worse. I. Standing on the bridge, staring down at - feeling all those lives." She breathes. "The aftermath killed just as many. Nearly killed me. I had to cut myself off from the Force to survive. I was being ripped apart."
She lets out a breath. "I'm not at risk at falling. But the pain and fear and - everything. If I hadn't cut myself off and I hadn't just. Died. I think I would have. Absolutely."