did is still wrong."
"Obviously, I see things differently." Merit spread his hands. His
right arm was now aimed directly at Jos-all he had to do was flex his wrist.
"So. What are you going to do, Jos ? Shoot me ?"
"I honestly don't want to, Klo, even after what you've done. But I
can't let you leave. Barriss went to tell Vaetes. Security will come for you
soon."
Merit shook his head. "But I won't be here, Jos."
"Yes, you will."
Only a few moments ago Merit had been sure that Jos would shoot him.
But now, after hearing his story, the minder could sense that something had
changed. The man's resolve was not quite as adamantine now. "You won't use
that blaster, Jos. I know you. You're a doctor, a compassionate man. You
save lives, you don't take them. I've seen you during times when you've been
on your feet all day, completely exhausted, barely able to stay awake, just
to save the life of one single clone. You can't do this. It's against
everything you are."
Jos was not a blasterslinger. Merit knew he could kill the man before
he realized what was happening. But he didn't need to. Jos wouldn't fire.
Merit started backing up toward the far door.
"Don't do it, Klo!"
Jos aimed the blaster at Klo.
"Don't do it, Klo!"
The big.Equani kept going.
Jos remembered looking down at Zan, lying dead on the floor of the
transport. Jos had been wounded himself, concussed, barely able to move. It
had taken everything he had just to crawl across the deck to his friend's
side.
Killing Merit wouldn't bring Zan back. Revenge wouldn't bring any of
them back. And Klo was right: Jos was a life giver, not a life taker.
But if Klo got away, he would continue to work for the Separatists,
continue to do harm to the Republic. How many others might die as a result
of his hatred, of his need for vengeance? And no matter if that number was
one or a thousand, if Jos allowed him to escape, those deaths would be his
responsibility, too. Because he could have stopped Klo Merit. Right here.
Right now.
"Klo-!"
Merit backed up another step. The rear door's proximity sensor
registered his presence and opened the portal.
Jos took a deep breath, aimed the blaster-
And fired.
There was an explosion, a crushing clap of thunder, a blinding light.
Pain seared into him. He cried out, felt himself falling . . .
41
The force-dome blew.
Ironically, it was a lightning bolt, rather than a beam, that finally
overloaded the breakers. It was fortunate in a way, Den was to reflect
later-though the bolt was powerful enough to stand everyone's hair, cilia,
or sensory stalks on end, it wasn't accompanied by the really nasty stuff,
like gamma rays. But thanks would have to come later, as well-at the moment
Den was too busy cowering under a table in the cantina to think about much
of anything except escape. The transports had been ferrying up patients for
the past hour, and next in line, he knew, were civilian noncoms like
himself. Then came the officers, and finally-assuming there were any left by
then-the clone troops.
That order worked just fine for him. He intended to be the first in the
noncom line.
I-Five was crouched beside him under the table. The droid's
photoreceptors were dark; he'd elected to turn himself off when the play of
elemental forces began to crest. While his shielding was usually sufficient
to withstand electromagnetic pulses, why take a chance? He'd just gotten his
memory back, and he didn't want to lose any of it again.
Den flicked the master switch on the back of I-Five's neck. "Time to
go," he said.
"For you, maybe. The droids are scheduled to depart after the troops,
if I recall correctly."
Den grabbed I-Five's hand and pulled him along toward the door. The
cantina was just about deserted; the staff and tenders were already at the
launch pads, waiting to board. He eyed several containers of vintage wines
and liquor that he would love to bring along, but somehow he doubted they
qualified as essentials.
"You're not a droid," Den said, as the two emerged from the building
into the smoke-filled afternoon.
"I'm not?"
"Nope. You're a diplomatic envoy on a mission for the Jedi. Moves you
right to the front of the line." A mortar blast less than a klick away
showered them with dirt. "Assuming we reach the line," he added.
"Didn't we go through this already, a few months back?"
"Yeah. Except that last time they were just trying to move the front
lines back so as to claim more bota. This time they want to wipe us out.
They've got little left to lose."
Another explosion, this one entirely too close. There was little
attempt being made to dismantle the camp this time, Den noticed; the worker
droids were concentrating on saving supplies and whatever viable bota was
left.
Den stumbled and nearly fell into a crater. Only I-Five's quick grab
for his arm kept him upright.
"The pad's up ahead," the droid said. "Fifteen meters, no more,"
Den tried to respond, but suddenly there was acrid smoke everywhere,
filling his nostrils. He coughed, struggling for clean air, and finding
none.
Abruptly, he felt himself being lifted. I-Five was carrying him, moving
rapidly in long strides toward the launch pad. Den kept trying to breathe,
and kept failing miserably.
He's carrying me a lot easier than I carried Zan's que-tarra case, he
thought. It was the last coherent thought he had for a while.
42
Look-he's coming around," Barriss's voice said. It sounded hollow, as
if echoing from a well. Jos tried to open his eyes, but white light seared
them.
"Zan," he croaked. "Don't do this. Don't die . . ."
But it was too late. Jos knew that, if he opened his eyes, he would see
Zan's lifeless body lying there on the deck. He didn't want to see it, not
again . . .
"Jos." He felt gentle hands on him. "Jos, it's Barriss. Everything's
all right. Come on back to us."
Jos opened his eyes. The light wasn't so bad this time. He blinked and
focused on Tolk, who grinned tearfully at him. "Where are we?"
"Sickbay One, on MedStar," she said.
Jos raised himself on one elbow. "Ow!" His head hurt. He touched the
synthflesh bandage on his head. Uli pushed him gently back down. "Easy,
hotshot. You're lucky to be alive. The roof came down on you. You've got
another concussion."
"Merit," Jos whispered. "What happened? Is he-?"
"He's dead, Jos," Barriss said gently.
Jos saw Colonel Vaetes and Admiral Kersos standing behind Tolk and
Barriss. He said, "Merit was trying to get away. I shot him."
Vaetes said, "You did the right thing, Jos."
"Yes," Uncle Erel added. "You stopped a dangerous enemy agent from
escaping, at the risk of your own life.
"When Uli and Security and I got there, we found you unconscious, and
Merit dead. He had a hold-out blaster up hi
s sleeve, but he didn't get the
chance to use it. Uli patched you up on the transport." He raised his right
hand in a slow salute. "Well done, Captain." He lowered the salute and
added, "I'm proud of you, nephew."
"I'm not sure ..." Jos said.
"About what?"
"Whether I did it because I knew he was going to cause more death and
grief, or ..." He trailed off.
"Because of Zan?" Tolk said.
Jos nodded.
"It doesn't matter. He had to be stopped. You did it. You can work out
the rest of it later. We'll have plenty of time."
It was true-he did it. He had killed another sentient being. Never mind
why, never mind if there was good and proper reason for doing so. He, a
doctor, had destroyed a life, Jos knew there would be some sleepless nights
for him as a result of that.
But, as Tolk had pointed out, what else could he have done?
Jos started to shake his head in confusion, then groaned. "Easy," Uli
said. "Give the glue a chance to set."
"And the Rimsoo? What happened?"
"Take a look." Den's voice came from nearby. The reporter and I-Five
had just entered, and Den was pointing at a viewport. Tolk and Barriss
carefully helped Jos to his feet.
The lower quadrant of the southern continent seemed to be on fire-thick
clouds of smoke spread in the upper atmosphere, drifting out over the
Kondrus Sea.
"Bye-bye, bota," Den murmured.
Vaetes said, "The Separatists are also on the run. We managed to save
most of our troops."
"How?" Uli asked. "It looked like they were rolling right over us."
"That's how," Vaetes said, pointing to another port. Uli moved to it
and looked out. "Whoa!"
Barriss looked through the port at the gigantic, wedge-shaped ship,
bristling with weaponry, cruising slowly toward them. "That's a Republic
Star Destroyer," she said. " Venator-class."
"The Resolution. Sent here to mop up and escort us back to the Core
systems," the admiral said. "The Battle of Drongar is over. There's nothing
left down there to fight for now. We came out of it with about two metric
tons of bota, which our droids are sealing in carbonite as fast as they can.
No Intel yet on how much the Separatists got."
"Given the intensity of their saturation bombing, I'd be surprised if
they got much," Vaetes mused.
"I have to lie down now," Jos said. "I'm a little tired."
Barriss and Tolk eased him back down on the bed. It felt wonderful. He
closed his eyes, and the various conversations around him merged into a
faraway buzz, like the sounds of wingstingers and fire gnats on a hot
Dron-garan night. . .
Barriss listened to the various conversations around her with half an
ear while she mused on the way things had turned out. Two metric tons of
unspoiled bota seemed a small reward for all the coin paid in death and
pain. She noticed Den watching her, a slight smile on his face, and smiled
back.
I-Five moved over to her. "I assume my mission to Coruscant is no
longer the priority it was," he said, "since you're returning there as
well."
"True. But keep the vial of extract. It's still a good many parsecs
from here to the Core, and much could happen."
I-Five hesitated. "As you can imagine, I'm not usually prone to saying
this. But something impels me-
"Intuition?" she interrupted, with a smile.
"Perhaps. In any case-may the Force be with you, Jedi Offee."
She nodded in acknowledgment, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Good
luck in your quest, I-Five. May the Force be with you, as well."
He moved away, and she turned to look through the viewport once more.
They were leaving orbit, she saw; already Drongar was receding, as the
MedStar frigate, accompanied by the Resolution, moved away into
interplanetary space.
Her assignment was over. In a couple of standard days, if all went
well, she would once again stand before Master Unduli in the Jedi
Temple-this time not as a Padawan, but as a full-fledged Jedi Knight. She
wondered what new assignments, what new adventures, awaited her after that.
Whatever they might be, Barriss Offee knew that she would face them,
secure in the protective embrace of the living Force.
"Well," Den said to I-Five, "looks like your trip to Cor-uscant won't
be costing you that much after all."
"All it took was the destruction of half a planet. Expensive, if you
ask me," the droid replied. "And what of you, Den Dhur? What's your
destination?"
Den fluttered his dewflaps thoughtfully. "I really ought to be on my
way to Sullust. I have a very attractive fern, and her warren-clan, waiting
there,-you know. They think highly of me on the homeworld."
"So you've said-several times."
Den sighed. A life of patriarchal reverence and hushed esteem. It had
been easy to be nostalgic about his home-world when he was sweating half his
body weight away on Drongar. But now he remembered a major reason why he'd
left in the first place: Sullust was boring.
"Then again, Eyar won't get there for a while yet. No hurry."
"One could make money in the Southern Underground on Coruscant, if one
was, say, in need of a dowry," I-Five said. "And I wouldn't mind a partner
to keep authorities from worrying over my ownership. Galling as I find such
a subterfuge, it's sometimes necessary."
Den nodded. There were always easy marks to be found at the sabacc
tables in places like the Outlander Club. No harm in making some creds while
he thought about Eyar's offer some more . . .
He looked up at the droid. "I-Five," he said, "I think this could be
the beginning of a profitable relationship."
EPILOGUE
Later, after the others had left the room, Jos Vondar and Tolk le Trene
held each other and watched the starfield through the viewport as the ship
left the Drongan system. "You're sure you want to do this?" she asked.
He nodded. "I'm sure. Are you?"
She grinned. "Where you go, I go. Just promise me that I don't have to
be the cook or the maid."
"If it gets too tough, we won't stay," Jos said. "I won't make you live
the life of a pariah. But I owe it to my family-and to you-to at least try."
A voice came from behind them. "You'll have one family member on your
side, at least." Surprised, Jos turned to see Great-Uncle Erel smiling at
them from the doorway.
"I've requested reassignment to Borellos Base on Corellia," he said.
"If you can go back there and face this prejudice down, Jos, I can hardly do
less."
Jos stared incredulously. "You're serious?"
"Absolutely. I've spent practically my entire life alone. Now that I've
finally found some family, I'm not going to give it up."
Tolk hugged him. "Welcome home, then, Uncle Erel."
And, looking at the two of them, his betrothed and his uncle, Jos
realized that, in one respect at least, all the fighting and hunting done on
Drongar for the miracle drug of the age had been pointless. Because the real
panacea for the troubles that plagued humanity or any other senti
ent
species, organic, cybernetic, clone or otherwise, had already been
discovered, millennia ago, back when sentients still peered suspiciously up
at the stars. Call it the Force, call it love, call it what you will-Jos
knew that it could be found, not in the swamps of a distant world, but in
the unexplored reaches of the heart.
The comm crackled. A voice warned them to prepare for the jump to
hyperspace. Jos took Tolk's hand as the ship's hyperdrive activated, and
then they hurtled away from the Rim, toward the bright center of the galaxy.
Jedi Healer Page 28
