Star Wars
Medstar
II
Jedi Healer
A Clone Wars Novel
Michael Reaves and Steve Perry
For my son Alexander: "The Force will be with you - always." - M. R.
For Dianne - S. P.
RMSU-7
The jasserak Highlands of Tanlassa,
Near the Qarohan Steppes
Planet Drongar
Year 2 a.b.o.g.
Scan & OCR: by Gilad
upload : 28.XI.2005
1
In the moment, there was little time for thought. No real space to let
the conscious mind judge action and reaction, no time for decisions about
form and flow. The mind was far too slow to defend her in this life-or-death
situation. She had to trust muscle memory, had to let go of any connection
to past or future concerns. She had to be totally and completely in the now,
if she was to survive this battle.
Even these thoughts passed in the space of no more than a heartbeat.
Barriss Offee cut and slashed with her lightsaber, whirling and
twirling it, her movements weaving a shield of luminous energy before her,
stopping blaster bolts, arrows, swords, even a few slung rocks, without
reflecting any directly back toward the attackers. That was of vital
importance, and the hardest part of the battle-don't kill any of them.
Master Kenobi had been adamant on that. Do not lop off arms or legs or
heads; do not thrust through the bodies of their attackers. Not those of the
Borokii, nor those of the Januul.
It was much harder to fight and disarm or wound than to maim or kill.
It was always harder to do the right thing.
Barriss fought-
Next to her, Anakin Skywalker was displaying a fair skill with his
lightsaber, though his technique was still somewhat rough. He had come into
training much later than had most Jedi Padawans, but he was managing quite
well. She sensed through the Force that he wanted to do more, that he wanted
to strike them all down, but he held himself in check. She could feel the
difficulty he was having in doing so, however. And that slight smile on his
face as he wove a defensive energy web before him bothered her just a bit.
He seemed to be enjoying this far too much.
To her left, Master Kenobi's buzzing energy blade stitched an
ozone-scented tapestry of blurred light, knocking blaster bolts into the
ground, blocking incoming arrows, and shattering durasteel blades almost too
fast for the eye to follow. His expression was set, grim.
Moving with that incredibly supple grace that was her hallmark, Master
Unduli danced her defense, deflecting the attacks with ease. Barriss stood
beside her tutor, her blue blade moving in perfect synchronization with the
pale green shimmer of her Master's lightsaber. Separately, each was an
opponent to be reckoned with; together, merged by and in the Force, they
were a fighting unit far stronger and faster than the sum of its two parts.
So thoroughly and completely did they complement each other's feints,
parries, and blocks that many of the wild Ansionian plainsfolk stared in
disbelief even as they pressed their attack.
When the howlpack had first advanced despite her practiced skill,
Barriss had felt a surge of fear; there were so many of them, and to control
without killing was much, much harder. But now, as she leapt and parried and
swung her weapon, the Force guiding her every move, the initial panic was
gone. With the four of them together this way, she had never felt the Force
flow as strongly as it did now. She was with Anakin and Master Kenobi,
nearly as completely as she was with Master Unduli. It was an unbelievably
powerful, heady sensation, intoxicating, overriding, filling her with
confidence: We can do it-we can defeat both armies-/
of the heart, not the mind. They were invincible. They batted death from the
air: full-power particle beams, needle-tipped arrows, swords sharp enough to
shave the Ansionians' long manes . . .
It seemed to go on for a long time-hours, at least- but when it was at
last done, Barriss realized that the entire encounter had taken perhaps ten
minutes or less. Dozens of shattered weapons lay at their feet, and the
surprised combatants surrounded them, plainly in awe of the fighting skills
of the Jedi. As well they should be ...
Barriss smiled at the memory of the encounter on An-sion. She had felt
the Force many times, before and since, but never had it been that. . .
compelling. Even when they had demonstrated their "spirit" for the
Alwari-she with her compass dance, Anakin with his singing, Master Obi-Wan
Kenobi with his storytelling, and Master Lumi-nara Unduli with her
Force-sculpture of whirling sand- she had not felt so alive as during the
battle, fighting alongside her Master and the others. Fighting alone was one
thing, but fighting in tandem or in a group? That was much, much more.
But that was the past, and if she had learned nothing else from her
years in the Jedi Temple, she had learned that the past could be revisited,
but not relived. She was no longer on Ansion now, but on Drongar, that humid
hothouse of a world, and even though her mission to find the thief who had
been stealing the valuable bota crop grown here was over, she had yet to
hear from her Master as to the next step in her training.
Even as she felt frustration rising again within her, her desktop comm
unit warbled. She activated it, and a small holoproj image of her teacher
shimmered into view in the warm air. The comm unit was small, and it seemed
to have a slight malfunction; aside from the usual blinking and ghosting
common when communicating across many parsecs, some element in the power
amplifier seemed to be emitting a too-warm-circuit smell, so subtle that she
was uncertain if she was actually sensing it or simply imagining it. It was
a not-unpleasant odor that reminded Barriss of roasted klee-klee nuts.
Master Unduii was lightyears away now, back on Cor-uscant, albeit her
image was close enough to touch. The three-dimensional likeness was
insubstantial, though, and it would be like trying to touch a ghost.
Barriss sighed, feeling tension loosen within her. Here on Drongar she
had felt the separation from her instructor keenly. Just the sight of Master
Unduii, even in a flickering, low-res holocast, was enough to help center
her. And she badly needed centering. What with the Rimsoo's recent forced
relocation, some fifty-odd kilometers to the south to avoid being destroyed
by Separatist battle droids, along with Zan Yant's death and the nonstop
batches of incoming wounded, she felt badly in need of the calming,
centering influence that her teacher always brought with her.
After a mutual greeting, Barriss said, "So, I suppose my mission here
on Drongar is finished."
Master Unduii cocked
her head. "And why would you suppose that?"
Barriss regarded the image, suddenly uncertain. "Well ... I was sent
here to find out who was stealing bota. The ones responsible for that, the
Hutt Filba and Admiral Bleyd, are no longer doing so, being dead. The
military has dispatched a new admiral to command Med-Star and the Rimsoo
facilities planetside-he should be here shortly, and I expect he's been
selected for his honesty, given the value of the bota crop."
"That was only part of your mission, Padawan. You are also a healer,
and there are still people there in need of that, are there not?"
Barriss blinked. "Yes, Master, but-"
There was a pause as her teacher regarded her. "But you don't think
that sufficient reason, do you?"
"With all due respect, I seem to be making very little difference here.
It's like trying to move a beach full of sand one grain at a time. I could
be replaced easily by any competent physician."
"And you think that your talents would be better utilized elsewhere."
It was not a question.
"Yes, my Master. I do."
Master Unduii smiled. Even in the flickering projection Barriss could
see those intensely blue eyes twinkle. "Of course you do. You are young, and
things all around you that still need attention. But I sense that you are
not done there yet, my impatient Padawan. There are still lessons to be
learned. Spirits require healing, too, as much or more than do bodies
sometimes. I will contact you when I think it is time for you to leave
Drongar."
Master Unduli's image winked out. Barriss sat on her cot for a time.
She reached for calmness of spirit and found it difficult to acquire. Her
Master's purpose in keeping her here eluded her. Yes, she was a healer, and
yes, she had saved a few lives, but she could do that anywhere. There seemed
little on this fecund planet that would help her become a fully fledged Jedi
Knight. It seemed to her that her Master should be looking for some place to
properly test her, to challenge all her skills, and not just those of a
healer.
But instead, Master Unduli had decided to leave her on this soggy
dirtball, where battles were fought as they had seldom been fought in the
last thousand years-on the ground, between armies fielded to wage war
cautiously to avoid damaging the valuable bota plant that grew thicker here
than anywhere in the known galaxy. Bota- a miraculous adaptogenic growth
from which a variety of wondrous drugs could be made-was easily prone to
damage, and even a mild concussion from an explosion too close could kill an
entire field of it. Sometimes even the thunder from a nearby lightning
strike-of which there were plenty, this being a young and volatile
world-could damage the fragile plant. Neither the Republic nor the
Confederacy wanted that, so the weapons and tactics of the war here were
primitive in the extreme. Battle droids fought clone troopers mostly within
hand-blaster range, in small numbers, and without much in the way of
artillery or large power beams. When the plant over which both sides battled
for control was worth its weight in precious gems, nobody wanted to shock it
to death or set it on fire-which was all too easy to do in the high-oxygen
environment, despite the swampy territory.
While it was true that both sides had on occasion fielded heavier
weaponry-witness the recent Separatist attack that had required moving the
entire base-for the most part the infantries fought, and bled, for each
precious centimeter of ground, all because of the kid-glove approach that
bota required. Not for the first time Barriss wondered how an indigenous
plant that was so fragile had managed to cling to its ecological niche for
so long on such a tempestuous world.
Such questions did not matter now. All that mattered was that the bota
thief was dead-and yet, Master Unduli still bade her stay. Why? What was the
point?
She shook off the thoughts. Clarity of mind did not come with too much
thinking-quite the opposite, in fact. She needed to empty herself, to allow
the Force to provide the calm and serenity it always did-when she could
reach it.
Some days, it was a lot harder than others.
2
Lying on his bed, Jos Vondar glared at the young man in the
lieutenant's uniform standing in the doorway to his kiosk. Hardly more than
a boy, really; he looked like he was about fourteen standard years old.
"What?"
"Captain Vondar? I'm Lieutenant Kornell Divini."
"That's nice. And you're standing there in the open doorway, letting
the heat into my humble home, because . . . ?"
The boy looked slightly uncomfortable. "I've been assigned here, sir."
"I don't need a houseboy," Jos said.
The boy grinned unexpectedly. "No, sir, I don't expect you do-seeing
how neat and clean your kiosk is."
Jos didn't reply to that. It was true that things had gotten a little .
. . disorganized of late. He glanced around the small living space. His last
two changes of clothes were hanging on the back of a formplast chair, the
drink chiller was dilapidated enough to make even a slythmon-ger think twice
about imbibing, and the mold creeping up the walls was as thick as Kashyyyk
wood-moss. Candidly, Joss had to admit that a marsh pig probably wouldn't
live in a sty as dirty and cluttered as this place.
Of the two of them, Zan had always been neater. He would never have let
it get this out of control. Jos could almost hear the Zabrak's voice: Look,
Vondar, I've seen garbage scows more aseptic than this. What're you trying
to do, max out your immune system?
But Zan wasn't here. Zan was dead.
The boy was speaking again. Jos tuned back in: "... been assigned to
Rimsoo Seven as a surgeon, sir."
Jos sat up on his cot and stared. Was he hearing right? This-this child
was a doctor?
Impossible.
His disbelief must have shown, because the boy said, somewhat stiffly,
"Coruscant Medical, sir. Graduated two years ago, then did a year of
internship and a year of residency at Big Zoo."
That did bring a smile from Jos. Big Zoo was the unofficial name of
Galactic Polysapient, the multi-sentient-species medcenter on Alderaan, at
which he himself had interned. It boasted no fewer than seventy-three
separate environment zones and ORs, and treatment protocols for every known
carbon-based sentient species in the inhabited galaxy, as well as most of
the silicon- and halogen-based forms. If it was alive and reasonably
conscious, sooner or later you'd see it at Big Zoo.
Jos gave the boy a closer, more appraising look. He was human-either
Corellian like Jos or some other close variant-towheaded, with cheeks that
looked like they had yet to experience depil cream. "You should have had
three years of residency before they drafted you," Jos said.
"Yes, sir. Apparently they were running short on doctors in the field."
The vestige of Jos's smile vanished. Zan had been dead only a week. And
this boy
was supposed to be his replacement? The Republic was getting
desperate if it was snatching babies from their cradles this way.
Besides, nobody could replace Zan. Nobody. "Look, Lieutenant. . .
Divini, was it?" "Uli."
Jos blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "Everyone calls me Uli, sir. I'm from
Tatooine, near the Dune Sea. It's short for Uli-ah, the word for Sand People
children. How I got the nickname is kind of an interesting-"
"Lieutenant Divini, far be it from me to question the wisdom of the
Republic-I don't think anybody really could, since they don't have any
wisdom to question-so, fine, welcome to the war. You check in with the unit
commander yet?" "Colonel Vaetes, yes, sir. He sent me here." Jos sighed.
"All right, I guess we'd better find you a place to stay." He rose from his
cot.
Young Divini looked uncomfortable. "The colonel said I was to bunk with
you, sir."
"Stop calling me sir. I'm not your father, even though I feel old
enough for that these days. Call me Jos... Vaetes sent you to stay here'?"
"Yes, sir. Uh, I mean, yes, Jos."
Jos felt his bottom teeth settle firmly against his upper jaw. "Stay
right here." "Okay,"
Vaetes was waiting for him when Jos arrived at his office. Before he
could say a word, the colonel said, "That's right, I sent the boy to your
cube. He's been assigned here as a general surgeon and I'm not going to have
the construction droids drop everything and build a new kiosk when you have
an empty bed in yours." He raised a hand to forestall Jos's comments. "This
isn't a debate class, Captain, it's the army. You're the chief surgeon in
this unit. Show him the drill, get him set up. You don't have to like it,
but you have to do it. Dismissed."
Jos stared at Vaetes. "What's the matter with you, D'Arc? Someone split
your head open and drop a regular army brain in? You sound like a character
in a bad holovee. Have you taken a look outside recently? We're not even
totally relocated yet, only one bacta tank's online, and we lost an entire
case of cryogen during the move. Meanwhile, nobody told the enemy we're
having problems, so they just keep shooting our guys and we have to keep
patching them up somehow. I don't have the time to wet-nurse some rimkin