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“You wanted to know why? That’s why, Jos.”

The hand holding the blaster lowered slightly, and for one instant Merit thought that maybe, just maybe, his former friend and patient would stand down. But then Jos’s expression and stance firmed again. “I can’t begin to understand how you must feel,” he said. “But I know how I feel. Maybe the death of one being can’t really compare with the death of a whole world. But loss is loss. Grief is grief. Do you think Zan’s parents feel any less pain than you do?”

“They lost a son! I lost a world! Hundreds of millions of sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, Jos! You can’t compare the two. It was a crime beyond measure.”

Jos shook his head. “Whatever your reasons, whatever your pain—what you 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