Star Wars_ MedStar 02_ Jedi Healer - Michael Reaves [29]
“You holding up okay?”
Slightly startled by the question, Jos looked at the younger man. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you know. Tolk being gone and all…”
“She’s not the only surgical nurse on the rotation.”
“True. But she’s the only one you’re, uh, involved with.”
Jos raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
Uli grinned, just like the big kid he was. “Come on, Jos. We share a cube. It’s not that big, and a couple of plastoid panels down the middle doesn’t exactly make it soundproof.”
Jos felt uncomfortable. “I thought we were pretty circumspect.”
“Not really. Besides, it’s obvious even to people who don’t live in the same clutch with you. She okay?”
“She’s fine. She had to go up to MedStar for a CME class. She’ll be back in a day or two.”
“You miss her.”
It wasn’t a question, and Jos supposed he could have slapped the kid down for it, but it sounded like a sympathetic comment, not a smarmy one. “Yeah. I miss her.”
There was an awkward pause. “I think I’ll go get a bite to eat,” Jos said. “Join me?”
“Maybe later. I need to check on a patient first.”
Barriss had been practicing with her lightsaber diligently since the accident in which she had cut herself. There had been a little hesitation at first, a concern that had slowed her moves, but that had gradually faded, and now she was back up to speed. Whatever the problem was, it had not come back, and so her confidence had risen, even though she still could not imagine what had caused the slip. A move she had made ten thousand times was not one about which she would normally think—in fact, she shouldn’t have to think about it. Thought was far too slow.
She also had no idea what had created the sudden blast of cold air. She’d checked with others in the area, as well as some of the techs. No one else had experienced it, and no one had any explanation for what might have caused it.
It was tempting to believe it had been her imagination. But she knew it hadn’t. In addition to the croaker bushes, she had felt energy of some sort rippling through the Force.
She trusted in the Force; had done so since the first time it had surged to life within her and she’d understood what it was. She had also learned quickly what it was not. It was not, first and foremost, a protector, or a weapon, or a mentor—though it could, at times, manifest aspects of all those things. The Force was what it was, no more, no less. Errors in wielding it belonged to the user.
She had just finished the section of Form III in which she danced against four imaginary opponents, all of whom were using blasters. The greatest Jedi who ever lived could not stop four bolts fired from different angles at the same moment, but that wasn’t the point. Jedi combat principles were founded in the concept of constantly reaching for perfection. A Jedi began the battle with the idea of facing multiple attackers, who would be armed, and skilled. If you trained for combat believing that you would always be outnumbered and outgunned and that you could still prevail, you stood a much better chance than if you allowed in the idea of defeat because the odds were against you.
Someone approached Barriss from behind. She reached out with the Force…
Uli.
“Hey,” came his voice.
Barriss turned, pleased that she had identified him before he spoke, and amused at herself for taking pride in such a trivial thing. “Hey, yourself.”
“How’s the foot? No residual impairment?”
“No, it’s fine. Completely healed.” As he smiled in rueful admiration of her healing abilities, she asked, “Are you going off to hunt for flare-wings again?”
He shook his head. “Just finished my shift in the OT, and I needed to move around a little.” He looked at her, not quite meeting her eyes. “May I ask you something?”
Barriss extinguished her lightsaber. “Sure.”
“How can you be a healer and use that lightsaber like you do?”
“Practice. Lots and lots of practice.”
Uli smiled and shook