Lucidity. That was the key to caring for the mentally ill. Regardless of species, system or psychological method, in the end, it was all the same. For non-Force sensitive wards, where my career had been based up to now, it was about encouraging lucid moments. Clarity and light, pushing back the fog and darkness. Allowing the patient to see family members, to challenge diseased thinking and mind traps, to try and make progress. Like a moth towards those moments of light shining in the darkness.
For the former Jedi I now cared for, it was the opposite. Lucid moments were dangerous. The patient suddenly reconnected with the Force, and could be overwhelmed. Rarely, they were aware enough to have control, maybe manipulate a guard or two, try and make an escape. In those cases, the harm was minimal. An in-control Jedi posed little risk to innocents, and those caring for them. No, the scary ones were the ones who had just enough control to feel the Universe around them, but no memory of what to do with it. The risk of those sparks of light was great enough that no attempt at treatment could be made.
I felt differently about Joruus. The Federation was facing dark times, and every Jedi was important. I'd grown up on stories about them. Shining examples, that had lit the galaxy for years. Surely, now they deserved a chance to be illuminated themselves. Joruus was quiet, easy to be around. His manner was gentle, considerate, even on the drugs. Most of my patients were blank 90% of the time.
So today I had palmed the mid-day dose of the meds. I wanted to see what lay underneath the haze. 2pm rounds had never dragged quite like this but, after what seemed like aeons, I was walking into his room. He was standing at the window, with his hands behind his back.
"Gilad" he said, without turning.
"How did you know I was here, Joruus?"
"I heard your footsteps" he replied, sidestepping the question.
"Are my footsteps that specific?"
The movement of his ears betrayed the smile that played across his face.
"Gilad, why are there so many clones on the staff these days?"
"It's the separatists, Joruus. They are threatening facilities across the Republic. Planet after planet is joining Dooku and the Confederacy. The clones are great orderlies, and are military trained as well".
"Interesting. And is Dooku looking to attack mental facilities specifically? Is every government facility so well protected?"
"Well, no but....... you guys could be a powerful resource, you know. Palpatine is only looking out for us all"
"I feel....... unconvinced"
"Come on, tell me the one about Plagueis the Wise again, I love that one"
Joruus turned slowly. The hairs on my arms sprung to attention, like the Clone orderlies whenever Palpatine was on the holo. The colour drained from my face. His eyes were looking into the middle distance, and his head was cocked to one side, as though listening to a whisper on the edge of his hearing. He spoke a single word, in a voice, I'd never heard before.
"Run".
He moved rapidly to the door, catching the wrist of a Clone as he burst into the room behind me, as though he'd seen through the wall. A swift blow to the wrist of the unprepared orderly sent his blaster spinning to the floor. A second to the neck and the clone followed his weapon. From under his supine form, his communicator was broadcasting the voice of Palpatine, faintly.
Execute Order 66
The sound of blaster fire erupted in the rooms around us.
"Run" Joruus said once more.
