War Doc
Jalen didn't like clubs.
Establishments of the sort just were not his scene, really. Try as he might to understand people better, the young man wasn't a social creature, at least not the normal kind. This sort of thing just never did it for him. But, then again, he was not one to pass up the good will of others either. For outstanding field service, or more likely saving the life of a GADF soldier with a well off family during the recent invasion of Tython, he had found himself mysteriously gifted with a VIP pass to a high end club on Hosnian Prime. All things considered, given the hours he had been clocking ever since Tython, the medic needed a break.
He needed one badly. War was, as it so often tended to be, hell. Even as a boy, a non combatant, Jalen understood such things. The final thing he had ever seen with his own two eyes was the flames of conflict after all. Even with all the tolerance that the padawan had built up and all of the lives he had saved with his medical expertise, not all lives could be spared. To expose one's self to that much death, especially as a Force Sensitive, wore away at the soul.
And what an escape this was. It was like stepping into an entirely different galaxy, one free of the worries of the outside world. Jalen felt a little sick at the pompous air of the place, but with eyes that could not see he did his best to ignore the luxury of it all and simply try to lose himself. It was only for a night, right?
He'd be back to medical tents in the morning.
In the meantime, he sat himself down at the less populated bar. Polished black and white floors, marble counter tops, pillars lined with golden engravings... all of these were lost on the medic. All he could feel was the aura of people. People he very much understood stood at the top of intergalactic society, but people nonetheless... perhaps a breed of people he'd rather not engage with.
The medic would just have a few drinks, listen to the music, then head on home. No more. It was for the best that this was the case.
