Bloodlust: Crisis/Chapter 1

Boom.

Boom.

"Blood... Blood..."

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

"Blood... Blood... Blood..."

Boom.

Boom.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Bolo Artel woke in a cold sweat. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his lips were cracked and dry. He winced as the bright white light hit his eyes and shied away as a tall figure with green skin loomed over him, holding a scanner in a large, ungainly hand.

The figure pressed a scaly palm to Artel's forehead and shook his head, turning to someone beside him. "He'll be a few minutes I'd say," he said, as if in answer to some question.

"His shuttle is waiting," the other replied. "Tell him when he waked up."

"Very good, Captain."

The other looked at him sternly. "That's Commander to you, Doc. I've been promoted."

"So you have. Very good, Commander Ballo."

"What is it?" Artel whispered through his cracked lips. Then, "Water. Please... water..."

The green man passed him a cup of water and he grabbed it forcefully, pouring it down his throat. He sighed and looked up at them, his vision clearing but still fuzzy.

He could just make out the shape of Vezzo Vateen, the Rodian Doctor aboard the Akarak, accompanied by the stern, bearded man in clone armour that could only be Commander Ballo.

Artel groaned and propped himself up on a pillow. "How long was I out for that time, Doc?"

"About three hours, I'm afraid, Sir."

Artel cursed under his breath. "I was supposed to be getting better." He coughed violently, spitting out a lump of grey phlegm tinged with red, as was the custom with his attacks. "What did I miss?"

It was Ballo that spoke this time. "We've encountered a lone Seppie frigate in the outskirts of the system. We've driven 'em back; they should be disabled within moments. And your shuttle is ready and waiting, sir."

Artel sat up and looked across at Ballo. Ballo was tall, lean and somewhat wild-eyed, with a shaggy brown beard smothering the lower portion of his face. A dark purple scar covered one side of his hairless scalp, a souvenir from the Battle of Geonosis that had occurred just weeks ago. Ballo looked nothing like is clone brothers, and that was why Artel liked him. It was good to have someone around that didn't look like just another machine-bred generic soldier like all the rest.

"Excellent work, Commander. Make sure they stay off the starboard flank. I'll go to the shuttle now."

"Would you like a squad to go with you, sir?"

"Same as usual, Commander. I'd like you along too, Ballo." He turned to the Rodian. "And you, Doc."

The Rodian bowed slightly. "I'd be honoured, sir. I'll just get my coat."

Ballo nodded curtly and was about to leave when Artel called across to him. "And get Choi, will you? I'll take her down as well."

"Very good, sir. I'll see you at the shuttle."

Artel stood and dressed himself in his simple Jedi robes, clipping his lightsaber onto his belt. It felt good to have the weight of it on his hip; he felt almost naked without it. He waited patiently for the elderly Rodian Doctor to get his coat then strode off to the hangar with him.

"How's your apprentice getting on, then?" Doc asked as they walked down the corridor.

Artel held onto the wall as another blast rocked the ship and a boom resounded around the ship. "Not too well, if I'm honest, Doc. The Council refused my request again the other night."

Doc shrugged. "Can't you train her in the field?"

"I guess. But I'm not sure that I can do that as well as fight for the Republic. Maybe I should send her back to Coruscant; she can continue training at the Temple until this blasted war's over."

The Rodian looked across at him seriously. "Now, look her, General," he said sternly. "You know that wouldn't do any good. For anyone."

"I suppose." Although the Rodian was just a lowly doctor aboard the Akarak, Artel held him in high esteem. The Rodian had fought as a soldier for many years and was worldly wise; any advise given by him was to be held in high esteem.

"Oh, by the way," the Rodian added as they bustled into a lift occupied by one other clone trooper in full armour. "I changed your medication slightly."

Artel gave a short laugh. "Without telling me, Doc? Is this why it's been getting worse?"

The Rodian shrugged as the lift came to a halt and they both exited. "I don't know. This new stuff's meant to be better, but it's a very rare condition, and..."

Artel knew what was coming next. "And no one's bothered to study it? I've heard that one before." They turned into the hangar and Artel looked sincerely down at the Rodian. "Can you do something for me, Doc?"

"Anything, of course."

"When this war's over, can you study my condition for me?"

The Rodian gave a chuckle. "I don't know if I'll survive that long, General."

Artel's face turned serious. "Don't we all?"

The shuttle stood in the hangar bay, surrounded by a small squadron of clone troops and a small figure in Jedi robes. Artel quickened his pace and grinned as Opa Choi, his great friend and new apprentice, smiled up at him, drawing the cloak off her montrals.

"Nice to see you again, Master," she said, still smiling.

"Good to see you too, Opa."

"I heard you had another attack. Was it... was it bad?"

Artel shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly. "Not too bad. Come on, let's get on the shuttle; it's time we were getting off.

They all boarded the shuttle and the engines fired up. The shuttle rose into the air and shot out of the hangar as the bay doors opened before abandoning the Akarak. Pressing his face against the transparisteel windows, Artel watched as the lone Separatist frigate, engaging in a desperate last stand against the decidedly bigger and more powerful Republic Star Destroyer, broke into two pieces and disappeared off into the blackness of space.