[Terra keeps hold of her hand for a few seconds longer, wanting to be sure she's steady, that she won't just topple over, back into the pod or onto the scorched and debris-riddled ground. She does seem to be all right, though. With a reluctant nod to her reassurance, he relinquishes her hand and steps back to give her room.

She's a curious sight. Briefly, he wonders what kind of world she was pulled from, if there are others like her here, about to crash down around them or maybe still sleeping in the now-threatened Alria, like his friends are.

He can't be wasting time with thoughts like those, though.

Her mention of the other pods has him chancing a quick glance upward.]

Yes. Darma said... six waves, I think? I don't know how many pods that's going to be. Maybe a hundred.

[Maybe closer to two hundred. Not just a pod drizzle but a veritable pod downpour. At least the Orbiters thought to stagger them instead of dropping them all at once. Two waves in and this is already chaos; Terra can't even imagine how bad it might have been if they'd just allowed a hundred or more pods to fall together.

But what else had Darma said, specifically about each wave? First wave was the... inhumanly strong. Her choice of adverb there is a little puzzling to him. But the second wave...]

Wait, you're a healer or a... medic, right?