Ahsoka Tano was sulking. It was not an image Sabé particularly wanted to associate with one of the few fully-fledged Jedi knights left in the galaxy, but there was really no getting around the fact of the matter when a rather petulant sigh reached her ears every thirty seconds or so.
"Stop that," Sabé ordered.
"You're in a sulk. We'd be done by now if you didn't see the need to act like a child between every stitch."
The Togruta girl set her jaw in place, preparing for battle.
"I am not," she said through gritted teeth, "in a sulk."
"Oh, sorry. Told you, I haven't stitched anyone up since I was fourteen. And definitely never anything this extensive."
Ahsoka's head met the cabin bay's middle counter with a spectacular thump, followed by a muffled groan which Sabé suspected was not due to a head injury.
"Cheer up," she said. "Just another battle wound, right?"
Bright blue eyes glared at her.
"Official story, we took on fire during takeoff, valiantly repaired the ship with whatever was lying around, and the monster's making up stories if she decides to talk." Ahsoka's voice left no room for argument. Teenagers and their damn pride.
"Remind me how she possibly managed this?" Sabé said, finishing up her work on the injury in question, the slash that ran the length of her counterpart's orange wrist.
Ahsoka grimaced. "Don't ask. The less people who know, the better. If Skywalker finds out, I'll never hear the end of it."
There was a loud crash from the other end of the cockpit. Leia was on top of a shelf, having a grand time levitating things to her from across the room. From the looks of it, Sabé's blaster was next. Ahsoka quickly drew it too her, followed by the child herself. She turned to the older woman, a muscle in her jaw twitching a bit.
"Next time there's an emergency evacuation, would you remind me to just leave the kid?"
Sabé raised her mug of caf in salute, and pulled the blaster out from under Leia's short fingers.