[member="Talon Vosra"]
Vala's Master beckoned her to follow. She watched as her Master put some sort of medicine on the wound and the hand then put them together and finishing it off with gauze. After a few moments some transports appeared to take the Dark Jedi away, leaving Vala and her Master. He yet again complimented her on how well she did at the fight and asked how she was doing.
Eyes a little downcast, she shifted a bit uncomfortably. The truth was always the best answer. "Right now a little grossed out for holding on to that hand," she said trying to inject some humor but then turned serious, "As for the fight, well...I feel...good I guess. Like it was right. I don't enjoy killing anyone, that's not what I'm saying at all. It's just that...I'm a fighter. Just like my mom, or so they tell me. I feel good defending myself and defending others. Makes me feel like I matter. Fighting is the only thing I'm somewhat decent at. I know it's not a very Jedi thing to enjoy but...it's true."
She said it, something that she always felt but never told anyone. None of them cared anyway. But she had a Master, he chose her, and let her use his lightsaber. That was the closest anyone has shown any interest in her. It felt good to get it out but now she waited for some sort of reprimand. Jedi weren't suppose to like fighting. It was an organization dedicated to peace after all. Fighting was just the opposite. There was bound to be some consequence for what she just said.