Bloodlust: Crisis/Chapter 2

"We've arrived in the Atairis System, sir," Ballo reported after he had received a message from the pilot. "We're approaching Atairis-Deta now."

"Excellent. Tell the pilot to land a few klicks outside the city; we'll go in alone."

"Yes, sir." Ballo relayed Artel's commands then sat back in his seat, looking out of the window as the small, grey-blue planet on the horizon grew bigger and bigger as they approached.

The shuttle circled the designated landing zone once, then twice, then a third time before dropping through the thick layers of cloud and landing on the smooth, grassy clearing surrounded by tall trees with deep, blood red bark. A herd of Parassi, bipedal reptilian lifeforms, fled as the shuttle touched down and the group disembarked. Artel followed his apprentice out of the shuttle and breathed in a deep breath of fresh air.

To the south of the clearing was a massive mountain range, hundreds of jagged peaks rising up, stark against the cloudy sky. To the east and west there was nothing but forest, and to the north Artel could just make out the edges of a massive deflector shield. That could only mean the city.

"The city's over in that direction," he explained to his men once they had all sat down on the grass. The grass was thin and coarse, and beneath it the ground was dry, hard and cracked, but it was all they had. "Ballo and I will go over to the city in the speeders and we'll try and sort out this mess. I'm sorry, but it looks like it's going to be a pretty tedious assignment for you. Doc," he added, turning to the Rodian, "I'd like you to come too, if that's alright."

The Rodian nodded. "Whatever you say, sir."

"If there is a sign of any hostilities, I'll call for you. Get to the city as soon as you can. Clear?"

There was a murmur of acknowledgment from the group.

However, Ballo seemed concerned. "And how will I get inside the city? This system joined the Republic on the condition that no soldiers would enter the city, and you know how stubborn these Atairisians are."

Artel nodded knowingly. "I know, Ballo. That's why you'll be going as my apprentice."

There was a subdued gasp from the squad of clones and Artel glimpsed Opa frowning. The Rodian was the one who spoke up first. "But, sir... wouldn't your apprentice be the one to go in with you?"

Artel turned away. "I've made my decision. Opa will stay at the shuttle with the rest of you. Now, we need a fire. Get me some firewood, now!"

The troops scrambled to obey, but Doc and Opa stayed, watching Artel as he sat by the shuttle,m staring into the growing flames of the small fire while holding a small piece of wood above his hand with the Force. Doc sat with Opa for a few moments, then nudged her gently and urged her to go and speak with her master.

Opa's face was stormy as she came up to her master and sat down on the grass beside him, her face, too, buried in the flames and in thought. Artel could feel her anger and felt deeply sorry for her. He broke the awkward silence and spoke in soft tones.

"I'm sorry, Opa, but I need you to stay here. You're just too..."

"Young? Is that it?"

Artel shook his head. "No. Too... inexperienced. I can't take you in there without knowing no harm can come to you."

She looked indignantly across at him. "No harm will come to me? I can look after myself!"

Artel chuckled, then picked up a piece of wood from the fire and tossed it to her while grabbing another for himself. "Oh, you can, can you?" he chided, jumping to his feet and advancing on her, stick held out in front of him.

She grinned, her anger forgotten, and rolled away before leaping up and copying his stance.

"Put your left foot forward a little," he instructed her, looking her up and down to check her position. She was young at only thirteen, but she was lithe, agile and, most importantly, a quick learner.

She obeyed, then leapt forward, stick whirling. Artel, taken by surprise, jumped back and ducked underneath the swipe of her stick before jabbing out with his. She batted it away and blocked another strike, this time to her leg.

Laughing, she made to poke him in the ribs, but he sidestepped out of the way and lashed out, hitting her wrist and knocking the piece of wood out of her hand. Holding it against her throat, both of their faces alight with joy, Artel fell back to the ground and tossed the stick back into the fire. Opa did the same.

When they had stopped laughing, Artel took a moment to look up at the stars. Breathless, he panted, "Not bad, Opa. You're pretty good."

She chuckled. "You're not so bad yourself, Master."

He smiled at that. "I am sorry, though. You'll have to stay behind... for now, at least. If you keep going on the way you are, you'll be fighting alongside me in no time." Of that he had no doubt; she was strong in the ways of the Force, and took Artel's advice to heart; he expected she'd become a Jedi Knight by the time the war was over... whenever that was going to be.

She seemed to understand. It was growing dark and the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, so she said, "Goodnight, Master," before curling up into a ball and drifting off to sleep under the stars.

Artel stayed awake for a while, looking up at the countless stars twinkling above him. He was not thinking about the stars, however; he was thinking about Opa.

He had first encountered Opa Choi just six months ago while in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. It hadn't been a nice first meeting. He'd just been knighted, and when he saw her he'd been overcome by an insatiable bloodlust...

He turned onto his side and screwed his eyes shut, willing the memories to pass. Finally sleep came to him and he drifted off into the land of dreams.