Tales of the Mandalorians

[Dieter Schprokets]

John Cabot, Mandalore, burst into the New London hospital like a man on fire.

Too many Mandalorians spend too much time here, he thought, though that is the hazard of the job.

Also, better here than a morgue.

He saw the Consuls, Dha Piruna, Ranov'la Aran, and Kandosii at the front desk. Other Mandalorians, inluding several Alor'ad, and even Dha'Wherd, were in attendance, looking grim.

The Consuls looked the grimmest. Dha gestured for John to follow him, and the four head Mandalorians walked down the hallway rapidly.

"Where was he found, and by whom?" asked John.

"By Net'ra, in Kusari space. His pod was there for months. He was in a state of suspended animation."

Special option for escape pods. Costly, but well worth it. Especially in this case.

They rounded a corner, and looked through a glass panel into Intensive Care.

And there lay Luc McCloud. In a low-level coma.

Ranov went over to chat with a doctor, and returned shortly, looking relieved.

"They say he'll recover, and soon." said Ranov'la.

John just nodded, a smile forming on his face.

"You usually cause more trouble than you're worth, but its good to have you back, old friend.", he said in a low voice.

Dha smiled too, but asked, "Should I be prepared for our books to dip into the red, with more repair bills and the like?"

John laughed. "Money gets spent. That's life."

He turned to go to the other Mandalorians to give them the news, then paused to turn to face the Consuls, with one more sardonic laugh, "When he comes to, ask him to only start one war at a time, ok?"

"And dust off that one Blood Dragon bomber in the hanger. Get him in a ship soon. Earn his keep. Once you fall off the horse..."

Hmm. I drank all his best whisky, thought John. He'll be annoyed about that.

Well, "Thought you were dead." should be an acceptable excuse to drink a man's booze...

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