Thanks to Vallav's rather advanced doctoring skills, Van was pleased to see (and feel) that leg was healed. The tingling sensations were finally, thank goodness, gone, and even the scarring and scab marks weren't quite visible. Van was rather taken aback by how highly sophisticated the technology was, but then he had to mentally step back and remember who Ogreon and his crew were: diplomats.
If there was anything in the world that had the technology and money to do these things, it was the government. A big, powerful government. And Ogreon was clearly a fairly important official, though how important, Van wasn't quite sure. Were any of the things on this ship common? Was this standard procedure? Van wasn't sure.
In the very least, he was thankful. Had Ogreon been an official from the Federation Van knew, he would have been more carefully handled. Perhaps arrested or, if not, just carefully monitored and restricted. But, then again, diplomats weren't very common where he was from, and he wasn't so sure how a diplomat would handle the situation. Things were too... dangerous where he was from. If there were diplomats, they were behind the armed guards. But Van's targets usually weren't diplomats, so how could he know how many there were, anyway?
Van stared down at his cut-up pants, and sighed, "Hunh. Guess I ought to go to that Replicator thing and get myself a new pair of pants."
He grinned, knowing exactly what that would involve, "Mm, chaa! And, Ewa would be there. Guess she could tell me how those things work, nn?"
Pleased with the thought, Van hopped off, and headed in the direction Ogreon had earlier directed Ewa.
