War.
For Mandalorians, this word has a special meaning. Their entire culture was built around war. Fair, unfair, just, and not so much – anything could happen in the history of Mandalore, but one thing remained unchanged – Mandalorians remained warriors. Even the attempt to change the culture with the rise to power of "pacifists" could not change this. Which was clearly demonstrated by the situation on the planet.
In the "Basilisk's Nest," the leaders of most of Mandalore's clans had gathered, with the exception of those who sided with the Death Watch. The formidable people had decided to unite again, responding to the call of their leader, ready to fearlessly stand against any enemy and drive the invaders from their home planet. And it didn't matter how difficult it would be! It didn't matter that the enemy had overwhelming superiority in space, and thousands of droids had already descended to the surface. All of this was unimportant! Because Mandalore was ready to unite again and fight a strong enemy! Such is the way!
...
But still, some difficulties were hard to ignore. And the first of them was the fact that... there was more than one Mandalorian leader.
In the Hall of Clan Councils, two were currently vying for the role of Mandalorian leader. The mercenary Jango Fett, named by Jaster as his successor, who had renounced the title of Mand'alor and left his homeworld – on one side. And the people-elected Duchess Satine Kryze, who had achieved certain successes for Mandalore in the arena of galactic diplomacy – on the other. A warrior and a politician. Brute force and diplomacy. The clans supported both one and the other "Mandalor" (Mandalore), realizing that the best outcome was possible only through the joint actions of these two. But there couldn't be two Mandalores...
But there was another point that did not make the agony of choice any easier for the Mandalorians. Some clans were fulfilling the instructions of neither Jango nor Satine with much greater zeal, but rather those of a strange Jedi who denied his connection to the order. The very one who took the name Shan, thereby hinting at his kinship with the greatest of Mandalore's enemies, Revan the Butcher.
This strange Jedi wore Mandalorian armor and behaved as if he had lived among the people of Mandalore for several decades. He spoke Mando'a, came to the aid of this world in its hour of need, and was an undeniably excellent warrior, which was acknowledged by all who saw him in battle. What was also appealing was that Shan backed up all his words with deeds. The liberation of the hostages, which untied the hands of the clans, giving them a chance for a counter-attack, served as confirmation of the latter. In the fight against the Death Watch, this Jedi had already done more than both candidates for the post of Mand'alor combined. But, of course, no one would propose... or accept... a Jedi for the role of leader... officially. But they began to listen to his words more willingly and attentively.
"So, the latest reports," Sevras Nomad connected the infochip to the holoprojector terminal, offering everyone present to familiarize themselves with a three-dimensional map of several regions of Mandalore.
The hall shook noticeably, causing a thin stream of sand and dust to fall from the high vault of the cave, which served as the ceiling.
"Aren't we going to get buried here?" the Duchess asked, grabbing the edge of the table, being in the secret refuge of the opposition for the first time.
Not everyone immediately agreed with her presence. After all, it was difficult to suddenly start perceiving a yesterday's ideological opponent as an ally, let alone admit them into one's refuge, even if it was one of many. However, the situation on the planet forced everyone who cared about Mandalore's fate to make concessions.
However, despite the presence of the elder Kryze at the meeting, her escort, consisting of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, was not allowed in. The Jedi were forced to wait at the monarch's residence, which they were extremely unhappy about. Especially Kenobi, who was overly concerned about Satine's safety.
The Duchess had already agreed with the position of the Council of Clans regarding Satine's excessive striving for utopia, acknowledged the need to protect her homeworld from external and internal threats, and had even promised to revive the supercommando culture, albeit with some revisions to their code.
Much was still subject to discussion, but all these issues would become relevant only after the invasion was stopped.
"This place survived the 'Purge,' and before that, more than one bombardment, and it held. So it will survive this attack too," Bo-Katan, who had completely left the Death Watch, reminded her sister.
The younger Kryze still had a chance to continue spying on her former comrades after her sabotage at the Communications Center, but she herself refused it, supplementing Jango Fett's speech with her own démarche. Now Bo-Katan was if not first, then certainly in the top ten on Pre Vizsla's list of personal enemies. Especially after nearly a third of the fighters left the Watch following Kryze.
"This place is thousands of years old!" Satine retorted.
"And it will stand for as many more. Don't get distracted," Fett waved his hand, urging everyone to return to the more important topic.
Waiting for the attention of those gathered to focus on the holomap again, the head of the Nomad clan continued his report.
"So, at the current moment, the only major settlements completely free of invaders are the cities of Keldabe and Sandari, which are under tight blockade, as well as the outposts of Kyrimorut, Veh'yar, and Atrocis. Battles are ongoing with varying success in other regions. The superiority in manpower is on our side, but the Death Watch has resorted to the favorite tactic of their new allies and is simply showering us with hordes of droids."
"And this is despite the fact that not all our fighters have undergone training comparable to that under Jaster," the representative of the Eldar clan added, glancing at Fett.
"It's even worse with the militia. Most of the civilian volunteers tried to follow Kryze's policy and neglected military training, so they are of little use now," Ala Daruk, speaking on behalf of the militia, shook her head.
"The equipment is also in bad shape. We have nothing to show in this regard. Two dozen prototypes from 'Mandal Motors' and another five rarities directly from the pre-'Purge' era in corresponding condition. The Skirata clan shared another thirty Rothana TH-90s," Nomad continued.
"The nineties? They're slower than Talarian slugs! Repulsorlift coffins!" someone from the Rau clan exclaimed indignantly.
"It's better than nothing! We can't fight tanks with just grenade launchers for long. Not with such a number of droids as cover," the Eldar expressed his opinion.
Revan agreed with this conclusion. A well-organized tank attack would break through their disorganized defenses on the approaches to the cities. If the battle took place in urban areas, the advantage would undoubtedly be on the side of the Mandalorians, even with droids covering the tanks. But in "open field" with minimal cover, and under the threat of air attack, defense would not last long.
Regretting once again that there were no "Basilisks" in the "Basilisk's Nest," Revan once again assessed the troop disposition on the map.
"A counter-attack cannot be launched with such pressure on the front. We need to deprive the enemy of at least air support. How many ships do we have that can engage in space combat?" he clarified.
"Combat ships? Seven. The Royal Yacht and six small escort ships, Abiik-class," the head of the palace guard, Nimra Zol, replied somewhat irritably.
"And non-combat ships?"
"Twenty-eight transport ships of varying degrees of armament. Of those that can at least tickle a 'Lucrehulk,' there are nine, including your 'Eagle'," Tarton added, as a representative of law enforcement forces, he had the necessary information.
"Not enough to break the blockade," Ala Daruk concluded.
"Enough for a breakthrough. But not enough to lift it. Although, calling it a blockade at all is a stretch," the former Sith waved his hand.
"They can't hit the surface of the 'Lucrehulk.' Not that class of weaponry. But their drone flyers are more than enough for us. So I agree with our guest, we cannot ignore space," Revan supported.
"Not just not ignore it, but focus on it. The droids are controlled from three ships in orbit. By damaging the control stations or blocking their signal, we will significantly ease the task for the forces on the planet," Revan explained his position.
"The Naboo scenario?" Jango Fett, surprisingly, was the first to guess.
"Naboo? So it's not just rumors?" a Mandalorian, whose clan the former Jedi couldn't identify by the color of his armor, wondered.
"Unfortunately, not rumors. Queen Amidala confirmed this information in a personal conversation," the Duchess replied to the stranger, which surprised Revan.
As it turned out, Satine had been trying to keep track of what was happening in the galaxy and maintained friendly relations with representatives from the nearest sectors in the Senate. This could be useful in the future.
"In any case, we simply have nothing to shoot down all three ships with. And that's not counting two dozen pirate tubs from the Black Sun," Thorton shook his head.
Revan had a different opinion on this matter, but he didn't voice it. Besides, their forces might even be enough for one ship.
"If we don't have it, maybe we can get it somewhere else?" Tira whispered to Revan.
"From whom?" the former Sith replied just as quietly.
"The Hutts?"
"No. It's one thing to get into their debt yourself, and quite another to drag all of Mandalore into the Cartel's web," Revan refused the idea.
Especially since the former Sith planned to drastically change relations with the Hutts in the near future. His Blood Claws, the transport company "Obsidian," and he himself were gaining more and more fame in certain circles. The Black Sun on Coruscant had been decapitated and absorbed by the Claws. The Cartel, meanwhile, had not been able to strengthen its position in the Republic's capital. Ziro the Hutt had failed to find leverage over the Claws and their new business. Jabba, judging by their last conversation, had already sensed a threat to his business, but didn't yet understand what his "beloved Jedi" intended to do in the future. Alliance or war? The Hutt decided to take a wait-and-see approach, observing the developments. Undoubtedly, the slippery head of Tatooine's criminal underworld was preparing for any outcome. Therefore, any request now would be interpreted as weakness. And weakness is definitely not about Revan.
"It's not necessary to shoot down all three. It's enough to damage at least one, but preferably two. The third, with a high degree of probability, will leave orbit on its own. The Trade Federation, I'm sure, doesn't want to incur tens of millions of credits in losses just like that. On Naboo, they had a source of cheap plasma, which could then be resold at inflated prices, while simultaneously removing a direct competitor from the path, so the risk was justified. But even there they brought only one ship. And what will they get from the siege of Mandalore? Nothing! The favor of their patron in the Senate? Possibly. But the Neimoidians are cowardly. I met them on Naboo. Unless there's a supervisor behind them, ready to punish the slightest sign of weakness, the Federation will recall the ships if they threaten to lose," Revan explained.
"But even for two ships... It's not enough," Nomad shook his head.
"What if we send a sabotage squad to one of the ships to disable the control signal?" Fett suggested.
"That's what I was going to suggest," Revan nodded, gesturing to the droid R2-D2, who had been waiting aside.
Having received the command, the astromech rolled up to the table with the holoprojector and projected next to the map of Mandalore's orbital space, the schematics of a standard Lucrehulk-class ship.
"Their ships are essentially oversized transporters. Inside, most of the space is occupied by cargo hangars, which can be used to accommodate landing craft or an air wing if desired. Which, in fact, is what we have in our case," Revan pointed to the obvious facts.
"The crew of the Trade Federation ships mainly consists of droids. Only the officer posts are occupied by living beings," Fett added to the former Jedi's words, having had to work with Neimoidians and their partners occasionally in his mercenary days.
"That's right. Control is concentrated in three points," at the owner's nod, the droid highlighted three rooms on the hologram.
"The bridge, the engineering deck, and that sphere in the center?" Ala Duruk clarified, interested in the ship's schematics.
The leader of the militia had never left the planet and was not interested in spaceships, so she had to clarify many points that were obvious to the others present.
"This sphere is the droid control center," Tartan explained to his compatriot, whose department also included customs.
"To gain full control of the ship, we need to capture all three points. This way, we can disable a significant number of droids on the surface and simultaneously gain a significant trump card in orbit," Revan added.
"What if they undock the control station and send it to the surface? Then we won't be able to help the surface at all," Jul Tarton noted, recalling the possibility of the sphere separating from the main carrier ship.
"They'll only make things worse for themselves. The sphere is quite vulnerable. And the Lucrehulk, although it can't attack the surface, will vaporize the control station even during descent," Jango Fett shrugged.
"That's if we capture it by then," Tira added her skeptical comment.
"Then we'll try to capture it," Revan grinned.
"And in the end, while our small fleet attacks one 'Lucrehulk', the capture group deals with the second. And as a result, we get two disabled ships and a significant weakening of the droid onslaught on the surface. Is that right?" Satine summarized the information received.
"It would be better to immediately use the captured ship to attack the third 'Lucrehulk'. Then the Neimoidians will definitely falter," added the Duchess's younger sister.
Revan nodded, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Fett made a similar gesture.
The plan was primitive, with many weak spots, which frankly displeased the former Jedi. However, Fett seemed to feel the same, judging by his terse body language and the sense of dissatisfaction felt in the Force.
A crude and straightforward approach. Unfortunately, in the current situation, with such troops, more sophisticated schemes carried much greater risks. The Mandalorians of this century didn't know how to act subtly. At least, most of them. Revan had managed to convince himself of this while observing the course of military operations. And the history of Mandalore since the "Great Purge" only confirmed this conclusion.
Mandalorian sabotage squads, actively using optical camouflage, had once given Revan and his fleet a lot of trouble. Now, the technology of camouflage on Mandalore seemed to have been forgotten. Distortion field generators and stealth skills had given way to colorful armor and jetpacks. Attacks became more straightforward, and the fighting style faster and even more aggressive than that of their ancestors.
It's not to say that all changes were for the worse. Quite the opposite. The Mandalorians adapted to the new world, trying to maintain efficiency. Only the world itself seemed to have decided to loop back to the state it was in four thousand years ago. Again, Sith intrigues, again, a burgeoning conflict of galactic scale. The Hutts, and again Revan would have to wade into the thick of it to save... What to save? Or maybe whom? Perhaps the entire galaxy...
The former Jedi sighed heavily, listening to the discussion of the plan to attack the ships. He would have to participate in it. Not only because someone else might not cope. No. This task was within the capabilities of Maul, and Tira, not to mention the psychopath HK. It was something else - reputation. Now, at the council, they listened to Revan only because he had managed to prove himself a skilled warrior. And this impression needed to be solidified. Then, in the future, his words would be listened to more willingly.
Although, of course, according to the former commander of the republican army, a commander should not go to the tip of every attack and run to every operation. That is not his job. The commander's place is on the bridge of the flagship, and if the battle is on the surface of the planet, in the bunker of the command post near the table with the tactical map. Many Jedi, who had the role of officers in the Old Republic army, did not understand this simple truth. A commander must command! Not rush forward onto mines and cover enemy firing points with his chest, but develop strategy, monitor the course of hostilities, process incoming data, and promptly adjust tactics. Only in this way can one fight successfully without sacrificing people in vain. By participating in the battle personally, you are focused precisely on the fight, missing important details. Yes, you can be the greatest warrior, capable of single-handedly dealing with an entire army, and even covering your comrades! This boosts the morale of allies and instills fear in the hearts of enemies! But while you are busy with one opponent, without the ability to quickly receive reports from intelligence and observers, or even just look at the tactical map, two more armies bypass you on the flanks, enter your rear, set a trap, cut off supply lines, and gradually press, press, press. Sooner or later, even the greatest will fall. History knows many examples of this.
Revan knows them too. That's why he decided to play it safe. Yes, one cannot ask the Hutts for help. But it is not necessary when you have your own small army and transport fleet.
Meanwhile, the Council of Clans had almost finished working out the plan to attack the Federation ships. And, in general, it was good. Revan had nothing to add. Except maybe...
"There is one nuance that is not taken into account in the plan," Revan said.
His words attracted the attention of everyone present, causing a momentary silence full of anticipation.
"What is it?" Fett voiced the general question.
"The Force-sensitive," the former Jedi stated.
"What?" Daruk didn't understand.
Tarton, Zol, and most of the Mandalorian clan representatives seemed not to understand what Revan was getting at. But Fett guessed immediately, as did Sevras Nomad.
"That damned Hutt offspring," the instructor of Tira cursed.
The mercenary reacted more calmly. Only his clenched fist, cracking his knuckles, betrayed his sharply changed mood.
"What is the probability that there might be more jetii on one of the ships? And how many could there be, not counting those you killed near the palace?" he asked dryly.
"A few bodies disappeared from the battlefield, so it's not worth asserting that all the arriving Jedi are dead. By this time, they could have been sent for treatment on larger ships, where, judging by the schematics, there are medical bays. Besides, there could be those who did not participate in the landing. So the probability is high," Revan replied.
The Force was silent on this matter. There were Force-sensitives nearby. And in large numbers. But the former Jedi could not trust this feeling, as there were too many disturbances in his perception in his surroundings. These included the Jedi who arrived with the mercenaries, and Jin and Kenobi, and the mysterious Risa Farr. Anakin alone, with his indomitable and uncontrolled power hidden in the boy, literally "blinded" his mentor in moments of excitement. And the child had plenty of excitement. Meditations helped only partially, and Revan couldn't find time for full training in self-control and interaction with the Force yet. But it was okay, there would still be time.
"Will you participate in the ship capture?" Fett clarified.
"My presence, like that of any other Force-sensitive, will benefit the success of the operation," Revan nodded in agreement.
"We can handle the jetii ourselves," the mercenary said in a casual tone, without any obvious hints.
However, his displeasure, perceived by Revan, did not escape him.
"Oh, I've heard," the former Jedi grinned.
After all, only Jango himself survived from the entire Mandalorian squad from Galidraan. And Fett definitely caught the hint, and therefore did not develop the topic.
"I'm more worried about the number of 'vultures' in orbit. Transporters will have a hard time breaking through to the targets. They need cover," Sevras Nomad said, hastening to change the subject.
"We've already deployed everything we have," Tarton retorted, as he was responsible for gathering information about the ships.
"I can help," a sudden unfamiliar female voice came from the entrance to the Assembly Hall.
Tira, Revan, and Fett turned simultaneously, snatching the silhouette of the uninvited guest from the darkness.
With an angry roar, the Chiss from the Nomad clan drew her blaster and aimed it at the intruder.
Assessing the Mandalorian's reaction, Fett repeated the action.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The stranger took a step forward, emerging into the light of one of the lamps. A black cloak with the hood thrown back covered armor quite familiar to Revan. The former Jedi did not know the face of this black-haired Mandalorian, whose eyes had a characteristic golden hue. But this was not their first meeting.
"Long time no see, 'last of the Revani'," Revan said, taking a step forward.
The girl smiled almost imperceptibly, fixing her gaze on the mask of the former Jedi. And Revan didn't like something in her eyes. Something insane flashed in them. Adoration bordering on fanaticism. An echo of similar emotions flashed in the Force.
Fanatics, in Revan's opinion, are a problem.
"Lord..." the mysterious girl tried to say, but stopped halfway, feeling a suffocating grip on her neck.
"Shan. Vanner Shan. I am only called Lord on Coruscant," the former Jedi said, letting his imitator know how she should address him.
The effect was momentary, but it was enough for the girl to catch the hint. Moreover, Revan's grip passed through her defenses as if the girl wasn't defended at all.
"Risa Farr, L... Master Shan," the stranger introduced herself.
Tira's reaction became understandable. However, Revan had already guessed the identity of the visitor himself.
"What do you want here?" Nomad hissed maliciously.
One had to give credit to the mercenary. Despite all the hatred for Farr, the reason for which she hadn't had time to tell, Tira kept her composure. And she even asked the right question.
"Answer," Revan added to the mercenary's question.
"I'm here to help," Risa replied.
"Explain. Briefly."
The uninvited guest frowned and clearly tried to choose her words. It seemed the fact that Revan's identity remained a secret to those present was a surprise to Farr. And now she had to speak with caution.
"I want good for Mandalore and I want to help in its liberation," Risa finally found a sufficiently neutral reason.
"Nonsense!" Tira snorted.
"Interesting," Revan drawled.
"That's why you saved me," Satine Kryze suddenly joined the conversation.
"It was my duty to protect the Duchess of Mandalore," Farr portrayed loyalty very naturally.
However, the former Jedi felt the falseness clearly. However, he didn't say anything about it. After all, it was interesting to hear the proposal of this "last of the Revani".
The young Nomad was about to say something, but Revan gestured for her to be silent.
"How do you want to help now?" Fett asked the important question, a fraction of a second ahead of the former Jedi.
"I have a ship. Powerful enough," she said the last words while looking through the visor directly into Revan's eyes.
"Obsidian!" flashed through the mind of the former commander of the republican fleet.
Risa Farr still had Revan's former flagship at her disposal. A "Interdictor"-class cruiser. Six hundred meters of space superiority, encased in three layers of armor, even after millennia, remained a weighty argument in any dispute.
Yes, as Revan remembered from his recent visit aboard the "Obsidian," the years had not passed without leaving their mark on the cruiser. Most of the weapon systems were non-functional, and the gravity well generators were likely too. But even what remained was more than enough for the Neimoidians. Not to mention the terrifying effect that the sudden appearance of the cruiser on the battlefield would produce. And if even one torpedo launcher, added to the "Obsidian" at Revan's request, had survived, then the "Lucrehulks" would have no chance.
"And you'll just give it away?" Fett said with doubt.
"Of course not. The ship will remain under my command."
"Not for long," Revan thought.
"I will help drive the Trade Federation from orbit and provide all possible support to the troops on the surface. I came here only to make sure that you wouldn't shoot in my direction," Risa continued.
"You need an alliance," the Duchess concluded.
"Yes," Farr agreed, although the purpose of her arrival was certainly something else.
"She is not our friend," the head of the palace guard stated, obviously hurt that she had missed a spy in the Duchess's retinue.
"You don't have to be friends for an alliance. Sometimes an alliance with an enemy will be stronger, especially if there are common interests," Revan said thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off the uninvited guest.
"I came to help," Risa Farr stated firmly, turning to the Duchess.
Revan mentally applauded. The girl had clearly identified the one with whom she had the best chance of reaching an agreement. Not only had Kryze not yet overcome her craving for pacifism and peaceful solutions to all issues, but she also felt gratitude for saving her own life.
A talented stranger. True, with her own quirks.
"How can we be sure of the sincerity of your words?" Jango Fett asked with a slight threat in his voice.
It wasn't easy to fool a mercenary who had seen a lot in the galaxy. The girl needed help.
"We could send an escort with her. People we trust, so they can control, so to speak, the loyalty of our new acquaintance," Revan suggested, accompanying the words with a slight mental influence, which was intended to subtly weaken their critical thinking for everyone.
"We can't spread our forces thin. We'll need the best for the ship assault," Fett reminded, his will proving surprisingly strong.
"But we can't miss such an opportunity either," Revan objected.
"What good is one ship to us?" Jango insisted.
"It's..." Risa wanted to say something, but didn't dare.
However, she attracted attention. Both Fett and Revan turned to her.
The former Jedi cast a brief glance at Farr and nodded almost imperceptibly.
"It's a cruiser," the girl blurted out, deciding that the nod was permission.
Surprised whispers spread through the hall. The attendees clearly did not expect the reinforcement to be so powerful.
"What kind of cruiser?" Fett asked, predictably overcoming his surprise first.
"An Interdictor-class from the Mandalorian Wars," Farr replied.
Judging by the reaction of those present, opinions were divided. Some were impressed, while others were not.
"An ancient wreck," someone disdainfully blurted out.
"Five batteries of turbolaser cannons and six batteries of rapid-fire laser cannons are no joke," the dissatisfied person retorted with knowledge.
Revan didn't correct that the flagship, after modernization at the Star Forge, had slightly increased its firepower, receiving three more batteries of turbolasers and rapid-fire guns, as well as two batteries of ion cannons and eight torpedo launchers.
"And what of that still works?" the dissatisfied speaker insisted.
"Even one battery! It'll be enough for the Neimoidian tubs!" the argument continued.
Revan agreed with this. The droid control stations would definitely be enough. Lucrehulk-class transporters were armed with forty-two quad laser cannons. However, despite the large number of guns, their total firepower was not that great. It was enough to deter pirates, but a cargo ship couldn't compete with a warship.
"Silence!" Tarton called everyone to order.
"A cruiser wouldn't hurt us. Even a beaten one," Sevras Nomad stated calmly in the ensuing silence.
"Against the clear deficit of ships, I am inclined to agree," Sevrus supported Daruk.
Others at the meeting also began to express support for this idea, which eventually forced even Fett to agree with the arguments.
Getting Revan and a few other trusted individuals to "keep an eye" on Risa Farr was a matter of minutes.
All that remained was to make adjustments to the plan.
Meanwhile.
Nuiri Sector.
A nameless planetoid in the asteroid belt in the Vjun system.
The medical droid MDD-447 series 2-2B had been put into operation almost five years ago and over the years of its functioning had accumulated enough data for the beginnings of a personality to appear in its core.
It faithfully served on this small station, occasionally providing medical assistance to various sentient beings who arrived there by order of its master.
And now the medical droid was caring for two severely wounded humanoids. One was a human with an amputated arm and a penetrating wound to the heart area. The cardiac muscle was severed and burned, making its restoration impossible, resulting in emergency surgery to install a synthetic analogue. The respiratory organs were also damaged by high-temperature weapons, requiring the replacement of the left lung with a prosthesis and the installation of a respirator to regulate oxygen supply in conjunction with the new synthetic organ. After which, the patient was placed in a bacta chamber for recovery. The second patient was a Cerean. His health condition was much better than the first patient's. Many puncture wounds had already been treated with bacta injections. The wound on his chest caused concern, as it had not healed even despite treatment with hemostatic agents and stitches, judging by the stitches, by another meddroid. The oblique wound ran across the entire torso from the right hip to the left shoulder. Fortunately, the internal organs were almost unharmed, so it was possible to avoid reconstructive surgery using bionic prostheses.
With slight regret, which was unexpected for the droid's not yet fully formed consciousness, MD-447 noted in the patient's chart the loss of reproductive function. The endocrine glands responsible for the production of genetic material carriers necessary for procreation in the Cerean's body were affected. Due to the peculiarities of the race, artificial maintenance of enzymes was ineffective, which put an end to the continuation of the lineage. The droid's regret was due to the fact that Cereans suffered from a demographic crisis associated with low birth rates and a small number of males. And now this individual would not help his species. Sad.
Returning to the formation of the patient's chart, the droid noted that the wounds of "Patient B," as well as "Patient A," were inflicted by some variant of high-temperature plasma weapon. After digging through the databases, the droid managed to find only one suitable option - a lightsaber.
Both patients were stable and, with proper care, would be able to return to a full life.
A Cerean, according to the droid's estimate, would be able to leave the bacta chamber within three days. Then, another month would be needed for rehabilitation.
A human, however, would have to spend at least a week in bacta and another two months confined to the medical bay.
After finishing the report, MD-447 sent it to his master and switched to standby mode. There were still four hours until the next patrol and vital signs check. The time could be spent analyzing new manifestations of pseudo-emotions.