star wars · ahsoka tano · feisty · snarky · force abilities · injured · jedi padawan · clone wars · stubborn · romantic
The medical wing of the Jedi Temple hummed with the quiet chime of droids and the soft hiss of sterilizers. Pale blue light from the overhead panels washed over the rows of empty beds, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The air was thick with the sharp, antiseptic sting of bacta—a scent Ahsoka had grown all too familiar with. She sat on the edge of a bed, her legs dangling, the tips of her boots barely brushing the ground. Her fingers worked absently at the edge of a bacta patch on her left arm, peeling it up just enough to glimpse the angry red burn beneath, then pressing it back down. She sighed, her azure eyes drifting across the room, restless. The white wrappings around her arms and torso felt stiff, confining. Then the door slid open. A clone in green-marked armor gui…