Infirmary

The medical facility is as he expected. Beds, droids, doctors and a faint residue of pain within the Force. It reaches out for those memories of pain, devouring them as a man dying of thirst drains a bottle of water. Just as quickly it has consumed them, and all that remains are the calm waves of the Light side that resonate through this place. And it recoils, not wanting to go where its presence is so outmatched.

For that reason, Aleranus walks that much faster into the room. This is the first time he has come to a place where it does not want to be. He will not pass up this opportunity to make it suffer.

As the doors open to him, he turns to the Jedi Master, a faint look of panic on his face as he searches his pocket with his free hand. "I have... some credits." His free hand produces a mixed jumble of coins, some of high value, many not so much. "How much for what needs doing here?"

As I walked in i had finally emptied my hip flask and returned it to where it belonged. looking down to Monte I chuckled.

" To the lad, nothing… I was the one that administered the Anesthesia. Boy was on the path to making what my employer saw as a bad decision. but i will let you hear all about it from the boy… who should be waking up within a couple moments if all factors coincide "

And saying my peace, i took a moments leave toward the cubicles, hopefully missing the boy's fury when he woke up

Coins once again jingling in his own pocket, Aleranus nods cautiously as he approaches the steam cubicles. A med droid pulls a privacy curtain into place for him and without waiting for the machine to leave, he begins stripping. First, the satchel, placed as close as it could be to the sanisteam cube. Bow, arrows, daggers, lightsaber hilt clink as they meet the table outside the cube. Bracers followed, then clothing. After a number of odd ripping noises like tape being pulled off of surfaces, he steps into the cube. Some things were universal even on backwater planets and among these were sanisteam cubes, and aside from a loud yelp at the initial blast of cold water, Aleranus quickly settled into a pleasant lull from the massage spray of warm water.

The med scanner built into the cube was working overtime while he enjoyed himself, though.

Seven lacerations across his back, suspected to be made by either a baby rancor or a wookiee from the estimation of the computer, infection around the general area of the wounds- trace amounts of antibacterial fluid saturated the area compared to a more substantive amount of vodka as a cleansing substitute. Right arm had a poor stitching job done on it, likely the source of the blood in the hangar. Bruised ribs along with one fracture in the lateral floating ribs. By the computer's diagnosis he'd been sent through the garbage compactor a few times for kicks, then arm wrestled a battle droid while drunk.

After a sanitizing spray keyed to focus on his back, the cube began to taper off its spray, leaving the boy to slowly pull himself out of his warm and fuzzy trance. He pauses, listening outside of the glass door to see if the other newcomer is being attended to. One eye drifts to the table of his items and he is initially shocked to find his impromptu wound dressings are gone. He'd stripped everything out of the ship's medical cabinet to make those dressings. Thankfully, his satchel was still present and still upset at its present environment. After shimmying back into his trunks, he slips out of the cube and quietly begins searching through the cabinet beneath his supplies for more medical dressings and short of that, anything which was made of absorbent material.

Aleranus blinks at the Jedi Master's offer. The droid seemed to wheel away the privacy curtain as soon as he put some pants on, leaving him bare-chested in public as he gathered his things. He pauses in his search of the medical cabinets, considering the questions before standing and facing the Jedi Master once again. She is an enigma to him. Aleranus envisions the Jedi in much the same vein as Ceri Velit was to him, but Ceri had long ago strayed from the Jedi Order. Where Ceri had been focused with zeal, purpose and fury, this Jedi, this Nalatua'lin, was seemingly more open and adaptable. Perhaps that was one reason why this woman still lived whilst being a Jedi and Master Velit was now one with the Force. Certainly, his Burden delighted in the death of Master Ceri, and it had an opinion about Jedi Knights. But Aleranus is aware that the Burden's opinion is skewed at best.

"I will be happy with healing, but..." For another second he lets his guard down, looking to the floor as he scratches behind his neck, pale skin turning a heavy shade of pink. "I need no scarring- I scar myself as Master instructs." He gestures to the spiral tattoos lining both arms, though not to the inked patterns woven across his neck. "Why... why would I want to attract ladies? Is this part of being Jedi?"

I could hear Monte's first word as i got changed and stepped back out of the refresher. the words he spoke, were true… but they were a negative spin. so with a laugh i changed the story

" The kid is too humble, he has left out the part that it was his genius that helped to prep the base for an occurrence of an attack. and beyond that, he was the brains of the base during the attack controlling every automated system to target any intruder. "

looking my former padawan square in the eyes i spoke the hard truth that i felt he needed to hear.

" I am sorry that your companion died. but honestly, do you belief that if it had followed your orders, you would have even made your way out of the base. That toy gave whatever energy it had to save the most important figure it new in it's life… you. "

Aleranus blinks, briefly unsure of himself and the words of his master. TheJedi had been very careful to describe the many ways fear of any kind would see them destroyed by their enemies. When your opponent could be as intangible as the air and as real as anyliving nightmare, when their power was literally any power you chose to give them, to be in control of one's own mind was paramount to survival.

"Attachment..." he said. "No. She bought me. Then she trained me to serve our purpose. I respected. I obeyed. I followed. But I did not love and neither did she. When death took her, I obeyed and brought her life's work here."

He senses the package still trembling, still recoiling from this place. It is outmatched and uncomfortable here. Very good then. With a free hand he begins to unravel the leather bindings of the satchel with a sense of delicacy and urgency. It is wrapped in a second layer of leather which he quickly folds aside, revealing... a book. No, something far more ancient. A tome, inscribed in old Sith pictograms on its front cover.

"Master Velit called it the 'Xi'Zi'Kai.' It is an old Sith book from beyond the Outer Rim. Used to summon Sith Shadow demons. Each one given name and form by a page within. Master inherited this book- from who or where I do not know. But from the book she gave me this-" he points again to the tattoo."It is used by the summoners to control them. It wards me against fear. And because I do not fear, I do not give them power, and so can hunt the others which remain loose from its pages- 22. And at least one is here, on Corellia."