Shadows of Bankor

Djanik found himself out at night.

There was a burning inside. Guilt, part of it. He was to blame. He had led them there, been so careless... he'd been kriffing stupid. Now his friends were paying the price of his own damn stupidity.

But there was another burning. The wounds, even after being washed and bound, burned. There was a black mark, and he could feel his heart beating like a burning, aching sore.

So he went to the clinic. Maybe this clinic would have answers. Maybe there were no answers.

He couldn't sleep.

He had to try.

"The night is dark and full of terrors friend, please come in," a woman said as she opened the door for him.

And one of them may well be me.

Djanik came through the door, his expression haunted - and cast his gaze around, looking for the doctor.

"Thank you for answering... despite the hour..."

She sniffed the air and then furrowed her brow looking at the man. She placed a comforting hand on his arm and said, “Can I get you some water or tea?”

“You seem distressed.”

"I have had an interesting day."

At her touch he recoiled, his arm flaring with pain.

Trying to compose himself, he said, after a shaky breath, "Tea... would be fine. You might not want to... touch me. Not until the doctor sees... what is wrong."

“Have you heard of a world called Taris?” she said as she went to prepare some tea.

“It is a dead place, now.”

What?

He looked at her, confused.

"No."

Standing there, left arm clutched to his chest, he watched the woman as she walked away.

"Do you know... is the doctor in?"

The woman continued, “In the days of Revan… this was perhaps three thousand or more years ago, mind you there was a world called Taris home to billions… it was a world similar to Coruscant, an ecumenopolis… a world turned into a city built on layers and layers of structures.”

She continued steeping and added, “The people of Taris thought of themselves mighty and powerful but they were wrong they built their cities above rot and corruption. In the bowels of the under cities lived creatures twisted by Sith magic and vile biology.”

“These creatures were known as rakghouls, they were a virulent scourge that could transmit an accursed disease through violent injury. I had thought it was all but extinct but the galaxy always surprises me. How did you come to have such… darkness course through your blood?”

Djanik stared at her in shocked silence.

His arm fell to his side, his ragged sleeve falling aside, revealing the black-rimmed wounds, the darkened veins running into his arm.

"Who... who are you?"

She poured him some tea and then gathered some medical tools to extract blood.

“I am just the nurse, may I?” she asked.

"I doubt that."

He stared at the tool, and then asked, bluntly, "What for? I don't want to risk spreading this... Raak Guul plague. Can you do anything about it?"

"I am going to need a sample of the blood to isolate the strain there was a cure once... but well, Taris was destroyed long ago by a Sith Lord," she said with a shrug. She placed a comforting hand on his and added, "Depending on the strain you may have only hours to turn... typically though it is 36 to 72 standard hours."

"This will hurt, I do apologize."

OOC: Djanik feels his anxieties leave his mind.

Delia Influence Emotions vs. Djanik just chillax man...: 5eP+1eA+1eC+1eD+7eF 3 successes, 1 advantage, 1 Triumph, 7 Light Side, 2 Dark Side

He tried to resist.

But his mind just... couldn't hold it together. His body and his mind seemed to detach, and all he could do was watch as he went... loose. Relaxed.

Some part of him was screaming that he had to act, draw his blaster, run, do something...

He could do nothing but watch, detached, powerless.

She drew the blood and said, “There, I am going to have this analyzed.”

The blood was filled with black striations… It looked unwell. She frowned saying, “This is definitely the rakghoul plague.”

"Oh. Ok."

He stood, still overwhelmed.

With immense effort, he managed, "That's... bad."

After an internal struggle that seemed insurmountable, he added. "Can you... help..?"

“I am not sure, maybe… I still have to analyze this sample maybe Juri can help though. Medicine was never an area I cared to expand upon but the sciences… and obscure lore, well that is my wheelhouse,” she replied placing the vial in a medical analyzer.

His legs began to give out.

After a long struggle, he managed to stagger to the nearest chair, slumping into it, brokenly.

"You have to find... a way. It was... my fault..."

He felt a chill now, fighting the burning that was raging through his left arm.

"You have to cure them."

"How many of you and where did you contract it?" she asked.

"Three... or four..."

He gestured with his hand, and then winced.

"We were in the wound. An old labratory. We didn't realize what it was."

"Well I would be surprised if you did," she said. "Just refrain from biting people and you should be harmless, until you turn."

"That's comforting."

It was less sarcastic than he expected.

At least he wasn't a danger just by being here.

Resting his head in his hands, he tried to make sense of what was going on. It turned out he couldn't. He'd never been infected with zombie disease before.

"I wasn't sure if it would be comforting, but there is time... limited time, but time," she said honestly. "People you care about are infected as well, that seems to be what troubles you most."

"I took them there."

He scowled. "I'm to blame for this."

Fixing the woman with a heated stare as her strange sorcery was finally beginning to wear off, he added, "I don't know who you are, or how you know so much about this... but if you can help, I don't care."

"I don't see how you are to blame for people choosing a life of adventure?" she responded.

"I asked them to come with me."

Cradling the arm against his chest, he tried to squeeze the pain out. It didn't work, but it kept him from fidgeting.

"I found the place - I saw that something was amiss, and I still led them there."