felt connected to all things, everywhere, able to do anything, anything at
all-
For that timeless moment, she was the Force. Suns were born, planets
spawned, civilizations rose, fell, the planets grew barren, the suns cold.
Time flowed like,a blaster bolt, like a ship at hyperspeed, but she was ill'
to track it all. Every detail on every world in all the galaxies to the end
of the universe.
It was indescribable. This must be what it felt like to be a god, did
such things exist.
How long it lasted, she couldn't say. A few moments or a few eons,
there was no way to time it ...
Then it was over. Barriss staggered back against the wall and slid down
it until she was sitting on the cold floor, stunned by the experience.
She could barely breathe. The surge passed, but remnants of it
continued to swirl in her, potent patterns that eddied and danced throughout
her being. She felt exhausted, but... wiser, somehow . -. . What was this?
What had just happened to her?
18
Jos couldn't recall feeling more excited anytime since he'd been on
this planet. The transport carryingTolk was on the way down. He stood by the
pad, peering upward-not that he could see anything for the blasted clouds
that still covered the arch of the dome. The snow was chest-deep in places,
even with the droids shoveling it away full time. Enough heaters had been
rigged so that most of the indoor spaces were bearable, some even toasty,
but it was more than a little inconvenient. Even at ground level, there was
a condensation that fogged one's view-they were essentially living in an
opaque bubble. There hadn't been any enemy attacks near the Rimsoo lately,
no stray, missiles or particle beams striking anywhere close, fortunately.
Were it up to Jos, he would shut the force-dome off, let the snow melt-it
certainly wouldn't take long-and do repairs with the system offline. But, of
course, had it been up to Jos, they wouldn't be on this karking planet;
there wouldn't be a need for protective domes because there wouldn't be a
blasted war.
The invisible dome window dilated, allowing the trans port in, .along
with a fast exchange of hot and cold air that swirled fog and clouds into a
momentary cyclonl vortex. The small windwhirl spun down and died asthe dome
closed and the ship settled from the clouds to the cleared landing pad. The
snow that dropped around the launch area was lightly variegated-a pale
rainbow with red the dominant shade, tinted by spore colonies that had been
blown in and instantly frozen.
It seemed to take forever for the vessel to land and the port to open,
and five people got off before Tolk did, of course. She was wearing surgical
scrubs, and her luggage was following in a baggage droid's hamper. Jos saw
chilblains start to frost her bare arms.
He felt a rush of joy that was nearly vertiginous as he saw her, and he
hurried to embrace her. She relaxed into his arms for a moment, then seemed
to stiffen. "Hey. You okay?"
"l am, yes." She looked around, and shivered. "You weren't joking about
the weather, were you?"
"Isn't so bad right here-over near the rep-dep there's some kind of
cold spot where the snow's piled higher than a wampa on stilts." Jos took
her arm and steered her back toward the camp. "Let's get you inside. You'll
warm right up." He held her close with one arm, and hurried toward his
kiosk.
"Let's go to my place first," she said. "I have a jacket there."
Jos shrugged. "Sure."
Inside her kiosk, the heater Jos had installed and turned on earlier
had taken most of the cold from the air. Tolk sat down on her cot. "Snow,"
she said. "On Drongar. Amazing."
"You get over that pretty quick," he said. "Then it just gets to be a
big pain in the posterior. Especially given our triage situation. If they
don't get the uplift back on schedule pretty soon, we're gonna be stacking
patients in warehouses-we're running out of room in the 'wards."
She nodded. She looked tired, Jos realized. Tired and drawn.
"Pretty bad up there?"
She sighed. "Not for me. I was on the Command Level. All we got was a
big vibration before we were sealed in. I didn't know any of the people who
were killed, and the injured and survivors were triaged by the emergency
response teams belowdecks."
"It's a terrible thing," she said. Her voice was flat and somewhat
distant.
Silence stretched. "Want some stimcaf?"
"That'd be nice."
He busied himself preparing the drink. "How was Great-Uncle Erel?"
Tolk looked away from him, at her bag. "Fine."
Even allowing for the recent past horrors, something in her demeanor
struck Jos as odd. "Tolk? Are you okay?"
She waved one hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, is all, It's been a
... trying time."
"Got that." He hesitated. "We could go down to the cantina, get
something to eat, maybe a drink?"
She looked at him. "You know, Jos, I'm really not up for it."
"Okay, sure. We can stay in, no problem. Uh, I can go pick something up
at the chow-
"Jos," she said, and her voice had a slightly brittle tone to it, which
he'd heard far too many times from far too many next-of-kin. "I-I think I
just need to get some rest."
"Oh. Oh, okay, sure." He hesitated, unsure of what to say. She didn't
seem particularly happy to see him. Yes,
she was tired, and of course it had been traumatic-but Tolk was a
surgical nurse. She had seen more people die in a month than many nurses saw
pass away in a decade, and under far more unpleasant conditions. She was as
tough as durasteel. How could an explosion that she hadn't even been
directly involved in affect her so?
He glanced at his chrono. "My shift starts in a few minutes," he said,
and was slightly shocked to realize he was grateful for an excuse to leave.
"I'll . . . comm you when I'm done, if that's okay?"
"That-that would be fine," she said.
He hugged her, and again she seemed to stiffen under his hands. He
kissed her, and she returned it, but it was like kissing his sister-there
was not even a hint of fire in it.
As he walked through the falling snow toward the OT, Jos felt a sudden
sense of nameless dread envelop him. Tolk had come off the transport
changed. He didn't know how or why, but she wasn't the same woman who had
gone up there.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong . . .
Den sensed that something was different when he took his usual place at
the sabacc table. It took him a moment to identify what it was. Then he
started to order a drink, and realized that Teedle wasn't on duty.
That was odd. Droids didn't work in shifts like organ-ics-Teedle was
always there, whenever the cantina was open. Except that she wasn't, today.
Neither were Jos and Tolk, but that was to be expected, given that the
latter had just made the drop from MedStar. The players, besides himself,
were Klo, Barriss, I-Five, and a new face-
one he was rather pleased to see:
Eyar Marath, the Sullustan singer from the troupe. Den took his seat,
which was right across the table. She looked up from her drink at him and
smiled.
Den smiled back. He'd been wondering how to casually run into her, and
now here was a platinum opportunity. It had been so long since he'd seen
another of his own species that he'd probably find the hag-witch of To'onalk
attractive. No problem here, though-Eyar was drop-dead gorgeous. She was
young, true-he was probably old enough to be her father-but, judging from
the took she was giving him, she wasn't thinking of him in thai way. She had
lustrous eyes, dark as obsidian and large even for a Sullustan. Her ears
were delicately shaped, with large whorls and lobes; her jowls glistened
with saliva. They flushed a deeper shade of pink as she smiled at him,
Oh, yeah. What a sugarcane this one was!
"Wa loota, maga nu," she said. "Mi nama Eyar Ah-
tram."
Den blinked. She was speaking in the inferior inflective, just as a
fern would to a mate.
"Wa denga, see't boos'e. Mi nama Den Dhur."
She smiled again, and suddenly Den wasn't the least hit cold. Not the
least bit. Nobody's father at this table.
"Where's Teedle?" he asked the table at large. He felt a sudden urge
for a drink.
No one answered.
He glanced at Merit, saw the big Equani looking slightly discomfited.
He said, "She is no longer with us."
"What? Reassigned? She just got here." He wanteda Blaster or two to
loosen him up; it wasn't like he needed it, but still . . .
There came another uncomfortable silence. Then I-Five broke it: "The
TDL-five-oh-one unit has been disassembled."
"Come again?"
"It was necessary to obtain the central drive component. The
TDL-five-oh-one unit was one of the latest models from Cybot Galactica, and
its YX-Ninety Drive's technical specs were compatible with the phase
harmonics generator secondary drive of the force-dome. It was-"
Den held up his hands to stop the droid. "Hold up a minute-you're
telling me she's been cannibalized?"
I-Five's expression and voice seemed flatter than usual, if that were
possible. "Engineering Section learned that it would be a minimum of five
standard weeks before a replacement drive for the damaged generator could be
delivered, so they sought some suitable replacement, and requisitioned the
TDL-five-oh-one's-" "Teedle," Den said. "Her name's Teedle." I-Five paused a
moment, then continued: "They requisitioned the unit's YX-Ninety. Its field
parameters are within the range needed to realign the phase harmonics
generator."
Den stared at the droid, his jaw sagging. "I don't believe this. They
broke her down for parts'? How could they? She was more than just-" He
stopped as the full implications of I-Five's statement hit him. "Field
parameters. I remember. You asked her about that-' Barriss said, "Den,
I-Five isn't-" Den ignored her and stared at the droid. " Yow fingered her?"
I-Five said, "I was ordered to determine the potential usefulness of
the unit's drive." "I can't believe it. One of your own kind." "As much as I
hate to rain on your righteous indignation," Barriss said, "there are one or
two things about this that you don't know." There was something odd in her
voice, Den noticed, but he didn't have time to worry about that. His best
server was gone and her "friend" I-Five had been responsible.
"I know all I need to know-"
"Teedle volunteered, Den." That from Merit.
He stared at the minder. "Huh?"
Merit said, "She knew what the consequences would be. It was Teedle who
noticed the range compatibility. !-Five merely confirmed it. It wasn't his
idea."
Den shook his head. Gutted her. As sentient as anybody at the table,
and funny besides, but-rip! just like that.
"I believe you owe I-Five an apology," Barriss said. Again, there was
something in her voice, something he couldn't quite pin down. She seemed,
well, older. Much older. But that was silly.
"Unnecessary," I-Five said. "I am, after all, merely a droid. Why
should I take offense?"
Den sighed. "I'm sorry, I-Five. I was a parsec out of line. I, uh . . .
oh, to deep with it. Let's play cards."
Klo began to deal-they had dispensed with the Card-Shark's services
several games back, and now it usually sulked in a corner while they played.
So there it was, Den thought. Another reminder of the difference
between droids and biologicals. Someone they interacted with as a person
could be ... shut down, just like that, because she had a widget that was
more useful elsewhere. Of course, people died in wars all the
time-companions with whom you shared drinks and laughs could be taken away
in the blink of an eye, zip-zap, just like that, but this was different. It
made a Sullustan stop and think.
Den picked up his hand, glancing at Eyar Marath as he did so. She
smiled back. Good. At least his temper tantrum hadn't driven her off. She
was beautiful. How long had it been since he'd even sat at a table with one
of his own species, much less clapped flaps? Too long.
A thought occurred to him. "Well. Sorry. After all, once the drive they
ordered arrives, they should be able to repair Teedle and she'll be as good
as new, right?"
There was another moment of frozen silence. Then I-Five said, almost
gently, "They didn't requisition the new drive, Den. The military will
compensate the corporation that owns Teedle, but they see no need to pay for
the repairs twice."
Den stared. "Kark," he said.
"An apt expression," I-Five replied.
Merit dealt the cards.
19
Jos had finally managed to obtain a jacket and a pair of thermal
gloves, which meant that the dome would almost certainly be repaired soon.
It seemed like it never failed that, if he went out of his way to prepare
for something, the need soon vanished. But at least for the moment, he was
better off.
He was on his way to the chow hall when his comlink beeped.
"Doctor Vandar, we have a problem in the OT."
"I'm off duty-" Jos began.
"Yes, sir, Colonel Vaetes knows that, but he asks if you'll please stop
by."
"Okay. I'm coming."
At the operating theater, business was slow, with only a few patients.
Half a dozen doctors and nurses were gathered around one of the tables,
Vaetes among them. He turned, saw Jos, and stepped away from the patient,
who was hidden from view by the group.
"Colonel? What's the problem?"
"You ever work on a Nikto?"
Jos's eyebrows went up. "You have a horn-face? I didn't know there were
any on this world."
"Afraid so. One of the crew working the bota fields. Ran over a piece
of unexploded ordnance and blew the harvester to pieces. Patient's full of
shrapnel, and nobody here has ever opened a Nikto before. You've cut on a
slew of species-any experience on this one?"
Jos blew out a sigh. "Not since my first-year surgical rotation. I'm
not really qualified to-
"Nobody else here has ever laid a blade on one, Jos. Not even
Lieutenant Divini. Whatever you know is better than what we don't know."
He was right. "I'll scrub," Jos said.
"Thanks. Tolk is already here."
Jos nodded.
He hurried through his scrub, was gowned and gloved by the sterile
circulating nurse, and stepped up to the field. He saw Tolk across the
table, lining up instruments. He'd heen hoping to get more of a sense of her
mood, but they had a crowd watching, and that wasn't how he wanted to talk
to her.
As if some bored war deity had read his thoughts, the drone of a
medlifter dopplered up.
"Incoming, people!" Vaetes shouted. "Jos, you got this?"
"Probably not, but you looking over my shoulder isn't going to help
much. Go. If I have a problem, I'll yell."
The watchers cleared out, leaving Jos, Tolk, and the circulating
sterile droids. Jos looked across the field. The sparkle and shimmer of the
overheads against the electrostatic boundary gave Tolk's masked face an
almost otherworldly quality. Even gowned and masked, he thought, she's
beautiful.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," Tolk said. Her eyes, above her mask, didn't seem to be smiling.
She wasn't looking at him.
Jos glanced at the patient. Nikto were reptilian in appearance, with a
couple of dozen small horns haloed around the face and crown, and a larger
pair on the chin. There were four or five different subspecies; this one had
greenish gray skin, which meant it was a mountain and forest dweller. His
clothes had been cut off, and there were several stanched wounds on his
torso.
The procedure would be the same as with any patient in that Jos would
have to track the wound channels and mine the shrapnel, then repair injured
organs. And he'd have to work with what was there, because he was pretty
sure there weren't any cloned Nikto organs in the hank.
Getting to the shrapnel wouldn't be easy. The Nikto's scales had
shifted to overlap the entry points. This was an autonomic reaction, evolved
over millennia, to keep the wounds as sterile and protected as possible
until they healed. Usually that worked quite well-but usually there weren't
several big chunks of durasteel sealed in a Nikto's viscera.
"We need to relax the muscles enough to be able to lift his abdominal