Bloodlust: Crisis/Chapter 12

Master Artel... Master Artel... The voices coming through the darkness were getting stronger. ''Master... Master... MASTER...''

Artel awoke. The bed beneath him was rather less comfortable than he would have liked, but, all the same, it felt good to have something to sleep on.

He was tired, and he ached all over. The worst part was his head, the point right above the eyes, which was burning like a fire inside him. He put up a hand to his brow, trying to douse the flames, and felt the soft touch of linen instead of skin.

The sun was streaming in through the open window, warming his face. He shifted beneath the bedclothes, moaning softly, and relaxed, trying to forget the pain plaguing him, but it doggedly followed him as he tossed and turned, ever by his side like a faithful pet.

He must have stayed like that for some hours until someone came into his room. He heard the beep of the door being opened and the swish as it slid shut, and he heard the sound of soft footsteps making their way across the room to the seat beside his bed.

Gingerly, Artel opened his eyes. The shape, silhouetted by the light of the sun, was sitting down, with what looked like two tall horns reaching out above its head. It took Artel a few moments to work out who it was.

"Opa..." he whispered, reaching out to touch her and finding her waiting hand. "Opa..." he repeated, unsure of what else to say.

"Master?" she replied, also in a soft whisper.

"Opa... where..."

"You're still in the city. The battle's over. We won."

Artel managed to force a smile. "Good... but how..."

"Master Mundi. He arrived in the system with a whole battalion of clones. I..." She was about to continue, but by that time Artel was fast asleep and snoring quietly. Smiling to herself, she stood and left the slumbering figure of her Master, taking one last worried look at him before closing the door and disappearing from view.

When Opa returned several hours later, Artel was up and about, dressed in his Jedi robes and sitting on the bed, meditating. The bandage around his head was still wrapped tight and his joints were stiff and aching, but he still amanged to smile as she came in.

"Opa," he greeted her, standing and embracing her warmly. He was, indeed, a lot stronger than he had been several hours before.

"Nice to see you up and about again, Master," Opa grinned.

"Good to see you again, Bolo," a figure at the door added.

"Ki-Adi-Mundi," Artel grinned, shaking the Cerean Jedi Master warmly by the hand. "Good to see you again, Master."

"The Baron has asked for an audience with all three of us, in his audience chambers," Mundi explained. "He said he wouldn't begin it without all of us. Come on; the Baron doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Where's Ballo?" Artel inquired cautiously, half afraid that the clone commander was dead by now.

"He was evacuated back to the Akarak," Opa explained.

Artel looked nervous. "Is... is he alright?"

Mundi nodded. "Just minor cuts and bruises. He'll be alright in a day or two."

Artel gave a sigh of relief and the three of them left the apartment block and strode through the streets, now blissfully empty, towards the spire in the centre of the city.

"So, what happened?" Artel demanded as they made their way towards the spire.

"Well, we got your message," Opa began. "Doc arrived at the shuttle and told us what had happened and what you wanted us to do. So we left for the Akarak, sent a message to the Council and Master Mundi came to our aid."

"But... the Separatists... they were right on top of us!"

Mundi shook his head. "Not quite. Almost, but not quite. Your desperate last stand at the city gates held the droids back and forced them to retreat. I arrived shortly afterwards and destroyed them completely. They never entered the city."

"And... Onakkit?"

"Dead," Mundi answered bluntly.

"I hear you and Ballo fought pretty bravely," Opa commented.

Mundi agreed. "Indeed. You're real heroes."

Artel chuckled. "Aren't we all?"