Star Wars_ MedStar 01_ Battle Surgeons - Michael Reaves [24]
As they talked, Jos noticed Den Dhur striding across the compound toward his office, his dewflaps quivering with indignation and anger. Intrigued, Jos moved to in-tercept him. The reporter was muttering to himself, and probably would’ve walked right by Jos if the latter hadn’t blocked his path. "Is there a problem? Anything I can do?" he asked, feeling a sudden rush of affection for the little guy; after all, he’d introduced Jos to Corus-cant Coolers.
"One side, Vondar. I’ll show him who he’s dealing with..."
"Whoa, whoa," Jos said, backing up in front of Dhur with his hands up until the latter finally came to a halt. "’Him’ who?"
"That ambulatory clot of rancor phlegm, that’s who! That condescending, officious sea scum! That-"
"Ah," Jos said. "Sounds like you and our esteemed quartermaster aren’t getting along."
"When I get through with him, he’ll be getting a long stretch of duty on the backside of Raxus Prime, or someplace even worse, if I can think of one." Dhur’s dewflaps were vibrating so fast Jos could practically feel the breeze.
"Look," he said, "I’m the chief medical officer here, and you’re our guest. If you have a problem with Filba, or anyone else-"
"It’s Filba who’s got the problem, Doc-he just doesn’t know it yet." Dhur dodged around Jos. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some work to do." He dis-appeared into his cubicle.
Jos watched him go, slightly nonplussed. While Filba wasn’t the easiest sentient to get along with, Jos had never seen the Hutt inspire this kind of anger in anyone. Usually the best Filba was capable of inducing was irri-tation. He wondered if Dhur’s earlier preoccupation in the cantina had anything to do with this.
He decided to go ask the Hutt for his side of it. Usu-ally he was inclined to let the principals in these matters work things out by themselves-as a doctor he had learned very early that often the best way to effectuate healing was to just get out of the way and let nature, or the Force, or whatever determined such outcomes, work its way. But, as he had told Dhur, one of his duties was to help Vaetes keep the peace.
He turned to head for the Hutt’s sanctum when he noticed the Jedi healer emerging from her quarters. He changed course.
"Not shaping up to be a very good morning, is it?" he asked as he drew near.
She looked up at him from within her hood, and he was shocked at her pallor. "Padawan Offee, if you don’t mind my saying so, you look like you either just saw a ghost, or just became one. You need a shot of cordrazine stat-"
"I’ll be fine," she said. "It’s just a momentary reac-tion." She smiled sadly. "Your colonel was right-one gets used to all this very quickly. Too quickly."
Jos’s puzzlement must have shown on his face, be-cause Barriss added, "I-felt the destruction. Through the Force. Not the agony of their deaths-that was al-most instantaneous. But the recoil in the Force, the re-action to whatever motivated this heinous act-that was... intense."
" ’Heinous’? Are you saying that what happened to the transport wasn’t an accident?"
She looked into his eyes; though her flesh was pale, her eyes were bright and intense.
"Yes, Captain Vondar, that is exactly what I’m saying. It was not a malfunction caused by spores, or system failure, or anything like that. It was sabotage. It was murder."
Admiral Bleyd received the news while taking his daily sauna. His secretary droid delivered it, because none of the other organic beings on board the MedStar could comfortably enter the steam-filled chamber. Bleyd kept the temperature so hot it would blister the skins of most of the officers and staff. To him, how-ever, it was comfortable.
He read the flimsi, then crumpled the thin sheet. When he opened his hand, the sheet’s molecular mem-ory immediately re-formed it, without even wrinkles. This did little to improve the admiral’s mood.
Dressed and back in his office, he paced angrily. Who was responsible for this? He did