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Pradnakt meets Alek
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"I'm not going to keep him here - if he goes back to my town we're going to have a problem, but other than that I don't care. And I think Nine will be fine, but I won't know until I open him up."

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"We only landed there for supplies," they say, "We can go somewhere else. Once he is no longer leaking all over the ship. Idiot," they add, dome pivoting to let them pin his sleeping form with a remarkably understandable glare, given the lack of facial expression. 

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"I expect Daisy won't mind picking some things up for you, if you'll be here for a couple days. All right. Do try to keep him from moving around too much, but worst case I'll just let him pass out again and he can stay that way 'till it's not a problem." She backs out of the door and gestures for Daisy to precede her off the ship.

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Affirmative whistle, "We would appreciate it," they tell Daisy. 

They settle in the corridor outside the room, in plain sight of the bunk inside the still open doorway, but not too close. They have avoided any lightsaber scars of their own at least partly through their own considered caution, as much as through their Not-Jedi's faulty control. 

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The pair make their way off the ship, and a minute or so later, Alek's pain fades to nothing.

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The sudden loss of feeling wakes him immediately. He's so used to always being in pain that not hurting leaves him feeling somehow wrong. His forearms, and hands to a lesser extent, should be covered in light burns, but he can't feel them at all.

He doesn't have much time to think about this before he notices the powerful, trained, dark Force sensitive, who is far too close for comfort, and at that moment doing something to him. He surges to his feet, heart rate rising from 'relaxed' to 'terrified' in the space of a few moments, his hand going to his belt before he remembers his saber isn't there and slides it to the less accessible place he keeps it instead. 

Where is Isk? 

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Isk is right here, watching him from the hall. They don't do or say anything, just continue idling there, being conspicuously unharmed. 

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Isk is fine. This is good. Also helpful to his long-term goal of not wrecking their only means of transportation. What is that Sith doing to him, exactly? He takes a moment to try to find out, quickly realising that they must be the source of his lack of pain when he finds the burns on his arms still partly-healed.

Having discovered this, the events of the night start coming back - the droids, the shopkeeper, the blaster wound, the Sith. Lord Pradnakt, the protocol droid had called her. Had said she would help him. 

She is helping him, too. He should... not try to attack her. Not just for that reason, either. She would absolutely wipe the floor with him, he has no doubt. He doesn't want to die. 

 

"Back?" Isk asks. 

"...You Ok?" He asks in return, not answering the question. 

"No change." 

"Ok." He pauses for a long moment, trying to think through the continuing terror-fury. 

 

"Leave?" He asks. 

"Still injured."

"I'm fine." They have bigger problems at the moment!

"Sith is friendly."

"Sith don't do friendly!" 

"Jedi words." 

"No, it's good sense! We've seen the sorts of things they leave behind."

"This one is different. The protocol droid calls her 'my Sith' where she can hear," they add. 

 

 

"...Alright. I'll talk to her." 

He steps out of the room, slipping through the ship towards the loading ramp. He's still terrified, on-edge. But he's not going to do anything stupid. At the moment. 

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The pain in his shoulder begins to fade back in, just barely, as he reaches the edge of the blocking effect's range, coming down the ramp. The Sith is behind him as he does, but calm, still both physically and in the Force, and when he turns to look, she's sitting in the dust just past the ship's nose, cross-legged, eyes closed.

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(It's ignorable while it lasts.)

He rounds the ship slowly, watching her warily, eventually coming to a stop still a fair distance away from her. 

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She waits for him to stop, and then another breath, before she opens her eyes, still motionless in the Force.

"Thank you for helping my droid," she says, first, watching him.

"I can't promise you'll be safe here," she nods to his lightsaber's awkward placement, "but I don't plan on hurting you."

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He nods, slowly. That's... reasonable. If not exactly reassuring, given.

"...He was cruel." He says. "And I was there." He wouldn't have just kept walking even before.

"Is Nine okay?" 

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"It sounds like he will be, once I get the restraining bolt off. You can watch, if you'd like."

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"...I'd like that," he agrees, relaxing just a little. He wonders if unrestrained battledroids are legal here - not that it matters to him if they aren't. 

"...How are you extending the pain-dampening like that?" He asks instead. 

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She grins at that, though she doesn't relax. "I'm a sense specialist; some of the techniques generalize, eventually."

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"I'm not great at sensing," he says, disappointed. "My empathy's pretty good, but-" he suppresses it most of the time. Hard enough dealing with his own emotions without dealing with everyone else's. 

He's not sure what he'd use it for, anyway. Not like there's any other organics around, usually. 

...What is he doing, telling her about his skills like this?

"You won't stop us from leaving?" He asks. She is Sith, and he's a- he's Force Sensitive. 

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"I won't. I don't think it's the best idea, right now, but if you'd rather that than the others, it's your choice."

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He glances at his wounded shoulder. She does have a point. 

"...I shouldn't stay in one place for too long," he says, uncertain. 

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"It's better here than most places, that way. The locals know to stay away. We haven't seen another Sith in the eight years we've been here. And I can do lifeforce transfer, if you need it. Or we can rent you a kolto tank, if you think you're up for being immobilized like that for a while, or you could try your luck at spending a few days in a hospital without letting them know what you are. Or - I don't think it'll kill you to let that heal on its own. I'm less sure you keep full use of the arm, though."

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...None of those sound like great options. He really can't afford to lose function in his arm, though. 

"I'm being followed," he explains after a moment. "By my Ma-" He cuts himself off. That's not true anymore.

"...By a Jedi Master."

(They could just leave. They really should. If they stay in one place too long he'll figure out where.)

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She pauses, briefly, to consider. "You could just as easily call that a reason to stay; it sounds like a problem I wouldn't mind solving for you."

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"You..." He stares at her, "Why?" 

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She grins again, apparently finding the question funny. "You helped my droid. And I'm curious what you'll do with yourself, given the chance."

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He keeps staring, at a loss for words. 

"...What I'll do with myself?" He asks after a long moment. "I'm Fallen," he says, "But I don't want to be what they said I'd be." 

Control is hard, though. And... not getting any easier. 

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"I see that." Amused and... fond?

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