Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [70]
Wuul looked from Leia back to Jaina. “I’m very sorry to hear that, my dear.” He reached out and patted her hand again. “But I’m sure you can convince him to take you back. You’re a Jedi.”
THE AMPUTATION WAS THE LEAST OF NEK BWUA’TU’S WOUNDS, BUT IT was the most visible, with the stump of the arm resting atop a pillow next to the old Bothan’s chest. His thick fur had been shaved away to just above the elbow, where the end of the limb was wrapped in a white, seepage-stained bandage. His midsection had been cut and burned so badly that even a 2-1BXS combat-trauma surgical droid had required thirty hours to repair and replace the damaged organs, and now his torso lay completely hidden beneath a hard-shelled bactabath body cast. It reminded Daala of the ribbed blast armor that her turbolaser crews had worn, back when she had actually commanded Star Destroyers.
“The trouble with lightsaber amputations is they cauterize,” Dr. Ysa’i was saying. A golden-furred Bothan of about Bwua’tu’s age, Ysa’i was a highly acclaimed orthopedist specializing in his own species. “You see, Bothan nerves can’t be stimulated to reattach after they’ve been burned apart.”
Daala raised her hand in a wave of indifference. “Nek is an old soldier. He’s lost more important things than an arm.” She motioned toward the holographic brain-activity image floating above the head of his bed. At the moment, it looked like a heavy sea, with high swells rolling from one end to another. “That’s what we can’t afford to lose. How long before he awakens?”
Ysa’i’s ears flattened. “Comas are hardly my area of expertise, Chief Daala,” he said. “I’m just here to take—”
“Now would be a very bad time to put a plate of poodoo in front of me,” Daala interrupted. She continued to look at Bwua’tu as she spoke, wishing they could tape his eyes shut. An FX medical assistant droid had told her that exposing “the patient” to visual stimuli, such as the vidscreen hanging above his bed, increased the likelihood he would eventually awaken. But it also made him look dead, especially with the moisture preservative making his eyes glisten, and she did not like seeing Bwua’tu that way. “You’ve had training. How long before I have my Chief of the Navy back?”
Ysa’i allowed a low snort of discomfort to escape his snout. “I’m not a neurologist,” he said. “But I doubt anyone can give you the answer you’re looking for.”
Daala sighed. “That bad?” She let her chin drop, then said, “Okay, tell me what you do know.”
Ysa’i’s voice developed a note of arrogance. “That’s what I’m trying to do, Chief Daala.” He stepped closer to the head of the bed and slipped a leathery finger into the holograph. “Brain images are fairly easy to read, at least on a superficial level. These rolling waves indicate there is activity, but it’s very deep and nonreactive. Something is definitely happening in there, but I doubt it’s a reaction to us—or anything in his external environment.”
“I believe that’s because the waves are rounded and regular, correct?”
This question came from the other side of the bed, where Bwua’tu’s chief aide-de-camp, Rynog Asokaji, was standing. A Bith male with an old burn scar across the cheek folds on one side of his face, Asokaji had angrily accused Daala of ordering the assassination attempt in retaliation for Bwua’tu’s secret effort to work out a compromise with Hamner. To his surprise—and Daala’s, too—she hadn’t grown angry at him in return. Instead she had praised his courage in defending his superior, then advised him to ask permission the next time he felt the need to speak frankly. The pair had been on good terms since.
Asokaji continued, “I was told that when the waves grow sharper and the pattern more irregular, it will indicate that he’s listening to our voices.”
“Or responding to something else in the environment, yes,” Ysa’i clarified, still addressing himself to Daala. “A neurologist can tease more information from the patterns than I can, Chief Daala. But the sharper, higher, and more irregular the waves, the greater the likelihood that he’s going to