A few minutes before our arrival on Coruscant, I headed up to the ship's bridge. I needed to contact Plo Koon and find out where we were supposed to land. Spotting Ahsoka, who was already there, I reached out to her through the Force, trying to gauge how she was holding up.
She was still in pain, but she had more or less calmed down and managed to get some rest. At least that was something.
I, on the other hand, hadn't had that luxury. Throughout the entire ten-hour flight, I worked relentlessly on my report so that the Council would not try to accuse me of anything. Of course, I understood that this was unlikely to happen—but still… just in case. Moreover, if my report helps other generals and clones, well, I'll be only too happy.
The moment our Akagi dropped out of hyperspace, Plo Koon contacted us.
"General Vikt, proceed to platform SQ-12. We're waiting for you there," the Kel Dor said.
"What's there?" I asked.
"A unified complex was recently completed in that sector—barracks, warehouses, and landing pads. The Coruscant garrison is stationed there, and reinforcements from Kamino will be arriving as well."
"That's good to hear. We'll be there in… ten minutes."
Turning to Cerкi, I ordered:
"Land the ship, First Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir!"
Approaching the Togruta, I caught her attention.
"Come on, Ahsoka. Let's head to the hangar."
"Yes, Master."
"Tinman," I said, giving the OOM droid a friendly slap on the shoulder, "stay on the ship. The local crowd clearly won't appreciate your fashion show."
"Roger Roger, General," my aide replied in his usual B-1 manner.
As we walked, I noticed that the Togruta's mood had improved somewhat.
"Glad to see Master Plo Koon?" I asked.
"Yes, Master. We haven't seen each other in a long time."
When we reached the hangar, we waited for the unloading to begin. The clones—the troopers and crew—prepared the gravicraft transports carrying the wounded. This was only the first batch, of course; there simply wasn't enough equipment aboard. In particular, the medical bay was designed to handle a maximum of fifteen hundred patients—certainly not five thousand.
When the massive ramp extended forward—yes, as it turned out the ship was nestled in a small recessed berth between two tall, closely packed buildings, with the entrance level with the deck of the Acclamator—my Padawan and I moved toward the welcoming party.
Alongside Plo Koon stood a Jedi woman in healer's robes whom I vaguely recognized. After a brief mental stumble, my memory supplied her name: Vokara Che, Chief Healer of the Jedi Temple. A typical representative of the Twi'lek race... although wait, she's... um, I forgot what the blue-skinned species is called. The turquoise ones are definitely Ruthians, but the blue ones... Well, it doesn't really matter—a Twi'lek is a Twi'lek. Plo Koon clearly made sure the wounded would receive the best possible care. That's good—damn good. But still, it's a little strange—to bother the head of the entire medical service, even for a reason like this. Something strange is going on.
"Master Plo!" Ahsoka rushed forward and hugged him.
"Ahsoka, little one. I'm glad to see you," Plo Koon said warmly. "And unharmed."
"Knight Vikt, we're ready to receive your wounded," Vokara Che said firmly. "The healers will attend to them immediately."
Suddenly, she closed her eyes, froze for several seconds, then nodded slightly, as if acknowledging something only she could perceive.
Then the Healer stepped decisively toward Ahsoka, placing a hand on her head. Ahsoka obediently stilled.
"Not good," Vokara said.
She then approached me and touched my forehead. A wave of warmth washed through my body.
"Not good at all," she concluded, grimacing faintly as she shook her lekku in displeasure. Stepping back, Vokara turned to Plo Koon. "These Jedi require treatment. They must be sent to the Temple immediately. I'll notify the healers."
"Is it serious?" Plo Koon asked.
I studied the Twi'lek closely—I was curious too.
What did she sense in us? Then again, why ask? It's obvious.
"Not critical," Vokara replied, "but I insist they be brought to the Temple. Treatment must begin as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible right now," Plo Koon said. "We're expected at the Senate."
"The Senate?" I asked, hoping I'd misheard.
"Ah, yes. You haven't heard yet. The Separatists spread a report across their networks about the defeat of our forces on Jabiim. Eight hours ago. Panic has gripped Coruscant—we've already deployed clone patrols from the planetary garrison. The Senate is in turmoil, and not without reason. So, your report, Knight Vikt, will be presented not only to the Council, but also to the Chancellor and several senators."
What a load of stinking shit. Just what I needed for complete happiness. Damn Obi-Wan, he went off to Muunilinst and doesn't give a shit about anything, and I'm the one left holding the bag. Though… why worry? I'll pretend to be "brave and stupid," deliver the report, and calmly get out of there. Yes, that's what I'll do.
"Please forgive me, Master Che," I said aloud. "As soon as this is over, my Padawan and I will come to the Temple immediately. I hope the report won't take too long."
Vokara looked distinctly displeased, but nodded in reluctant agreement.
"The shuttle is already waiting," Plo Koon said, gesturing toward a long, sleek speeder with ample seating. If memory serves, it's a Senate shuttle.
"Then let's not keep the Council—or the Chancellor—waiting," I said. "Come on, Ahsoka."