Not as raw and gripping as Shatterpoint, nevertheless Battle Surgeons is – exactly as I remembered it – a solid entry into the Clone Wars. It too avoids glorification and highlights the gore and senselessness of war, and for me it is a positive that we see a Jedi taking on a mission on the medical posts rather than frontline. Some of the Clone Wars novels are dull as dishwater despite being thick with frontline action. I’m convinced this is because those novels think they can capture my attention with cool explosions and ass-kicking protagonists – but honestly, a story needs more than that in order for me to give a damn, and to be fair I think it much more realistic given the low numbers of Jedi that they’d take on support roles such as medical personnel or special expeditions as negotiators or scouts. Like I said, Battle Surgeons is not as brutal as Shatterpoint, although it has some medical gore and a couple of shocking, heart-wrenching deaths. This is counterbalanced by the feeling of community among the protagonists, and the moments of respite where they find laughter, love, quirkiness, and eccentricity.
I have to say I rather liked Tarnese Bleyd. I’m not a fan of simplistic villains who sit around doing nothing until they’re foiled by the good guys, and there are quite a few of those who do just that in the Clone Wars, only lifting their fingers to get on the holo and be threatened by Count Dooku before returning to doing absolutely zilch. Bleyd is actually fleshed out, and not just with stock stereotypes or one habit or mannerism repeated ad nauseam. There’s thought put into his backstory and origins, description of a homeworld and alien way of life that almost swaps villainy for raw instinctual behaviour that is much trickier to condemn. Plus, he’s written as actually competent. When obstacles get in his way, he’s not at the mercy of the writing. Rather, he cleverly executes his own course of action and is allowed to do so, allowed to deepen the complexity of the plot. Antagonists like this, that are proactive, smart, and competent, are much appreciated, not least because they upset the predictability of the plot, but also because it is much more enjoyable to read about a struggle between capable opponents than it is to read about some oblivious dummy who is patently doomed.
Amid the tension of shady dealings and the overwhelming, weary action scenes whenever the medical staff are confronted with the brutal realities of war, the book explores several intensely profound moments. Den Dhur’s description of child soldiers at war, though nothing to do with the current story, makes tears prick at the eyes at the sheer senseless waste of it as well as the poignancy of our better instincts. Barriss is also at the focal point of several moments of introspection and revelation, as she casts a pointed light on the definition of sapience and the ability of the clones to meet its requirements; which in turn expands one character’s horizons to go beyond and ask similar questions of droids too. This is one of the most fascinating and compelling questions that has existed in sci fi, across many books, and to be honest it ought to be explored in Star Wars books a lot more – but often the central action is focused elsewhere and what you would think would be quite fundamental existential questions in the Star Wars universe, such as the rights and sapience of droids, don’t get asked. It’s the better books that allow its characters to ponder on such subjects, and Battle Surgeons is one of those better books.
Continuing with Barriss’ philosophising, dropped in occasionally at just the right moments but never waffling on, or taking over the plot; her repeated condemnation of herself getting annoyed with Phow Ji may seem strange to some. He is, after all, not a very nice person, and I daresay neither readers nor Barriss’ colleagues would at all mind seeing her answer his provocations and take him down a peg or two. But the fact that she struggles against this impulse shows an intimate understanding and excellent portrayal of Jedi values on the part of the collaborating authors. Barriss clearly comprehends that Phow Ji wants her to meet him in confrontation, and it is always a good idea to think carefully before you do what a thoroughly nasty character wants you to do. She considers the possible outcomes and realises that giving him what he wants would be fruitless – if Barriss loses, his arrogance and bullying is reinforced; if she wins, he is likely to nurse a bitter grudge which will only continue his hostility more vehemently than before.
There’s a nice, smooth writing style throughout with both authors meshing well and it isn’t obvious where one begins and the other ends. It isn’t especially fantastic, aside from the aforementioned poignant moments, plus a handful of vivid descriptions – but the reading level is decent and consistent. Perhaps one might criticise the ending being rather abrupt, but as a duology it was almost a given that the authors would drop a cliffhanger on us and leave several threads for resolution in the second part.
All in all just as good – no better, no worse – than I remembered since reading on release.
8 out of 10