“So you think I should go ahead with this?” Luminara asked him.
Anakin hesitated. “It’s not for me to say. If Obi-Wan agrees …” His voice trailed off without finishing.
She turned her attention back to the other Jedi. “Obi-Wan has already said he doesn’t think it’s a very good idea. Does Obi-Wan have a better idea?”
The Jedi hesitated for the briefest of instants, then gave a slight shrug. “I tend to side with Barriss in this—but no, I don’t have a better idea.”
“We need that piece of wool if we’re going to get the Borokii to listen to us.”
“I know, I know.” Obi-Wan looked unhappy. “Are you sure you can do this, Luminara?”
“Of course I’m not sure I can.” As she spoke, she was making certain the sharp, ceremonial Borokii knife Bayaar had loaned her was securely fastened to her narrow waistband. “But like you, I can’t think of anything else to try. This is the best I could come up with.” She smiled reassuringly. “We can’t convince the Council of Elders to persuade the rest of the Alwari to agree to our position if we never get to speak to them.”
“While your death might convince them of our sincerity, and of the importance the Republic attaches to our mission here, that’s still no guarantee they’ll agree to listen to the rest of us.”
“Then you’ll find other ways of convincing them of our sincerity,” she told him. Reaching out, she put a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever happens here, now, may the Force be with you always, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Stepping closer, he gave her a firm hug. “Not only will the Force be with me, Luminara Unduli, I expect you to be with me for a while longer yet as well.” He indicated their Padawans. “You wouldn’t go and leave me with not one but two Padawans to look after, would you?”
Her smile broadened. “I think you would manage to cope with the challenge, Obi-Wan.”
“Master …,” Barriss began. Turning, the Jedi put a reassuring hand on her Padawan’s shoulder.
“Not everything is assured in advance, my dear.” Her hand slid off the strong shoulder. “I know what I’m doing. I just don’t know what the surepp are going to do.” Taking a couple of steps back, she took a deep breath and nodded at Bayaar.
It was not for him to try to dissuade the offworlder. He had already done all he properly could to apprise her of the danger she had chosen to face. Raising a hand high, he signaled to his right. Down the fence line, the operator in charge of this section of the corral responded with a gesture of acknowledgment. Something went softly ssizzt.
“The barrier here has been shut down,” he told the visitors. “If you really mean to do this thing, you have to do it now.”
“I know,” Luminara replied. Whereupon she stepped carefully through the unelectrified fence line, gathered herself, and leapt onto the back of the nearest surepp.
Rising above the twilight clamor from the town and the communal mewling and burbling of the tightly packed beasts, the collective intake of breath from the audience of watching Borokii was plainly audible. Their astonishment was paralleled by that of the two Padawans, even though they had been given some idea of what to expect.
Exhibiting the strength of a weight lifter, the agility of a gymnast, and the training of a Jedi adept, Luminara sped not through the herd but over it. Across it, rather, Anakin thought as he looked on in amazement and admiration. Touching down only long enough to kick off and launch herself to another expansive, woolly spine, Luminara raced across the backs of the Borokii herd, heading for its approximate heart. Occasionally, disturbed by the contact, a sleepy surepp would look up in surprise. Unable to discern any threat or danger, it would then lower its head and return to its quiet dozing.
While her friends were able to monitor her progress via their macrobinoculars, Kyakhta, Bulgan, Tooqui, Bayaar, and the other observing Borokii could only strain to see with their eyes. Unable to stand the suspense, the sentinel finally sidled over next to the offworlder called Obi-Wan.
“How is your friend doing?” he found himself asking. “She is still alive, or you would have reacted.”
“Moving fast.” Obi-Wan spoke without lowering the device. “Back and forth. Fast enough that I couldn’t keep her in focus, but this viewing device does it for me.”
What seemed like hours but were in reality only minutes passed in tense silence before the Jedi murmured softly but excitedly, “There!” His voice rose despite his efforts to keep it under control. “She’s got it!”
“So soon?” Bayaar was all but struck dumb with astonishment. “She moves very swiftly indeed, your female.”
“Not my female,” Obi-Wan hurriedly corrected him. “We are colleagues, equals. Like you and your fellow warriors.”
“Ah,” murmured Bayaar without quite understanding the offworlder.
“Yes, she’s quick,” Obi-Wan added. “On her way back now.” Suddenly he jerked visibly, lowered the macrobinoculars from his eyes, then raised them again.
“What? What’s happening?” Turning toward the herd, Bayaar strained to see. His night vision was excellent, but no match for the advanced viewer. “I think I see some disturbance.”
“She slipped.” The offworlder’s voice was not quite as neutral as before. “Slipped and fell. I—I can’t see her anymore.” A rising mewling reached them from the place within the massed herd where Luminara had gone down. Even without aid, he could see that several animals were stirring uneasily. Beside them, others were waking from their evening torpor.
There was no time to discuss alternatives. They had to act before the disturbance spread.
“We’re going after her,” he told the two attentive Padawans. Though he could see the anxiety writ large in their expressions, there was no time to reassure them, no time for coddling.
“Concentrate,” he ordered them. “Concentrate as hard as you ever have concentrated. Focus. And stay together.” Taking Barriss’s hand in his right and Anakin’s in his left, Obi-Wan led them through the barrier.
Pushed, pressed by the focusing of the Force from not one but three trained individuals, the surepp gave way. Mewling and hissing, they parted to make a path for the striding offworlders. Triple eyes glared angrily at the bipeds, furious at the intrusion. But something kept them at bay, prevented them from trampling the trio beneath massed, sharp-toed feet.
If any of them lost heart, Obi-Wan knew, if either Padawan panicked or lost concentration, he and whoever remained focused might not be able to sustain the intensity necessary to hold the surging, increasingly restless herd back. He tried to will his own mastery into the two learners, to lend some of his own strength to each of them. Yet as they marched deliberately forward, ever deeper into the herd, a strange thing happened.
While Barriss held her own, Anakin seemed to grow stronger. It was as if, faced by the challenge and the very real proximity of death, the Force grew within him. Obi-Wan did not entirely understand what was happening, but at the moment he was far too preoccupied to examine the phenomenon. Right then, one thing and only one mattered.
They found Luminara lying unconscious on the ground, a trickle of blood trailing from her forehead. A quick glance showed Obi-Wan that the injury was not deep. Still, he could not see what she might have suffered internally when she fell. A muscular trill ran through his fingers where he held Barriss’s. He could see the concern in her face, could feel the distress. But Barriss Offee was her Master’s student. As a healer, she might have been expected to drop immediately to the ground to begin ministering to her Master. As an incipient Jedi, she knew that what mattered now was not individual healing, but sustaining the Force against the powerful animals that were hissing and pawing at the ground all around them.
Displaying his physical as well as mental strength, Anakin hoisted the unconscious Jedi onto his shoulders. Together, they turned and began to retrace their steps. A growing section of the herd had been alerted to the presence of intruders in their midst. Even though no danger had manifested itself, and none
among the herd had been attacked, the surepp were increasingly edgy.
It became harder and harder to hold them back. Perspiration streamed down Obi-Wan’s face. Though he had the help of Barriss and Anakin, the Force was centered on him, and it was up to him to maintain the energy that continued to hold the surepp back. He could see the barrier now, not far in front of them. The good-natured Bayaar was staring at him anxiously, wanting to encourage the visitor but not daring to shout his support. Standing well behind him, the rest of the Borokii who had come out to watch whispered fearfully among themselves.
Something bumped up against Obi-Wan, nearly knocking him off his feet. For an instant, his concentration faltered under the impact of the heavy surepp flank. Barriss shot him a look of alarm while confusion replaced confidence on Anakin’s face. Atop his shoulders, Luminara stirred uneasily. If she cried out …
Then an exhausted Obi-Wan was through the quiescent barrier, and Anakin was handing his burden across. The waiting Kyakhta and Bulgan took her, Tooqui helping as much as he could. Together, they placed her gently on the ground, laying her on her back. Barriss was at her side in an instant, running sensitive, trained fingers over her Master’s forehead, using part of her robe to wipe the blood from Luminara’s face. Beneath the Padawan’s gentle ministrations, the unconscious Jedi moaned softly.
Behind them, something bawled loudly. There was the sound of bone striking flesh. Anakin Skywalker half tumbled, half flew through the tangling barrier under the impact of the surepp’s head-butt. He hit the ground hard, nearly knocking a startled Tooqui over in the process, rolled, and ended up on his belly. Obi-Wan eyed him anxiously as a crackling sound filled the night air. A surepp yelped, then another, as they made contact with the reactivated barrier and hastily retreated.
“Anything broken?” Obi-Wan inquired solicitously.
Wincing, Anakin struggled to his feet. “Only my dignity, Master.” He nodded in the direction of the prone Luminara. “How is she?”
Barriss looked up at him. “I sense no internal damage, but I can’t be certain.”
Luminara’s eyes opened. She blinked a couple of times and did not smile. “Help me to my feet.”
“Master Luminara,” Barriss began, “I’m not sure it’s wise for you to—”
“It probably wasn’t wise for me to go into that herd, either,” Luminara declared painfully as she straightened. With Obi-Wan assisting on one side and Anakin on the other, she was soon standing among them. “But it had to be done.” She gestured apologetically to Bayaar. “I’m afraid I lost your knife.”
“What happened?” Obi-Wan asked her.
“It’s not exactly like running a training course at the Temple. Every surepp back was different, yet I didn’t have time to study where I was going to place my feet. I just had to run, and not linger, and hope. Everything was going well until I landed on an animal that was unexpectedly wet. It must have been grooming itself, or spent a lot of time being groomed by others. I slipped, and before I could catch myself, my head hit the ground.” She smiled at each of them in turn. “Thank you for coming after me.”
“You had no choice but to do what you did,” Obi-Wan told her. “When you went down, we had no choice but to come after you.”
“And I thought the Jedi were the masters of choice,” Anakin murmured. “So much for that maxim.”
Barriss’s eyes widened slightly, then she slumped. “And we still have to find a way to get the fur, if we’re going to get the Borokii elders to talk to us.”
As she brought her hand down from her forehead, Luminara’s lower, tattooed lip curled slightly upward. “You forget, Padawan: I was on my way back to you.” Her expression fell. “Unless it slipped out when I went down.” Reaching into her lower undergarment, she felt around anxiously for a moment. Then, slowly, her smile returned.
In her fingers she held the requisite tuft of fur from the albino surepp. It was the color of dirty snow.
Turning to Bayaar, she displayed the small, seemingly insignificant prize that had nearly been bought at so high a price. “You saw how it happened,” she told the sentinel.
Behind him, other Borokii were crowding around, each eager for a glimpse of proof of the extraordinary accomplishment. “It was done as demanded. Will the Council of Elders confer with us now?”
The sentinel gestured approvingly. “I fail to see why they would not. This is a moment I will remember for my grandchildren, as you may do the same for yours.”
“Jedi do not have children.” Surrounded by her friends, she started back through the Borokii encampment toward the distant visitors’ house.
Bayaar watched them go. They were very powerful indeed, these offworlders. Masters of a great many talents, not to mention the Force itself. Therefore it seemed strange that one should feel sorry for them.
But he did.
Her posture straightened and her stride lengthened as they walked through the encampment. Curious Borokii, busy with nocturnal tasks, turned to follow their progress. Anakin and Barriss, Obi-Wan and Kyakhta, Bulgan and Tooqui, all crowded around her, offering tender congratulatory pats and touches or, in the manner of the two Alwari, caresses that were exotic and lingering but in no way invasive. Meanwhile Tooqui did his best to express his own relief by clinging occasionally to one of the Jedi’s bare legs—a position that incidentally kept him from being pushed aside by the others. Restrained by his status and outside the group, Bayaar nonetheless made a point of offering traditional Borokii congratulations.
“Here.” Still breathing hard and gulping for air as they stopped outside the visitors’ house, the utterly fatigued Jedi thrust the clump of albino wool into their host’s hands. “Give this to your elders. Tell them who it’s from and how it came to be in your possession.” Turning away from the solemn, respectful sentinel she took a step toward the entrance—and slumped into the supportive arms of her friends.
“The Force is a wondrous thing, but you can’t bathe in it. I’m sure roasted surepp tastes wonderful, but when alive they smell like any herd of densely packed herbivores. Crucial meeting or not, I’ve got to have a bath before I can think of presenting myself to even a junior elder!”
As they helped her up the stairs into the visitors’ house, numerous Borokii, having learned of what had just transpired, had assembled outside to stare at the offworlders. Their whispered comments were full of admiration, their unwavering gazes unobtrusive. A reverent Bulgan carried the Jedi’s bundle of outer clothing. His and Kyakhta’s admiration for the female offworlder, which up to now had been considerable, no longer knew any bounds.
While the notion of entirely immersing oneself in a tub or pool of water as a means of relaxation quite escaped the Borokii, they were more than willing to provide the means necessary for the visitors to indulge themselves. It was hardly an expensive request. While Barriss attended to the needs of her weary teacher and the ever-inquisitive Tooqui hovered nearby making a minor pest of himself, the other members of the group settled down to a late-evening meal and contemplation of the day to come.
Much good conversation and laughter filled the visitors’ house of the Situng Borokii that night, followed by preparations for sleep that were carried out with more enthusiasm than usual. As Barriss had surmised, Luminara’s injury was not serious, and was effectively treated. Tomorrow would hopefully see a meeting with the Council of Elders and, if fortune was with them, the successful conclusion of the Jedi mission to Ansion. It was with such expectations in mind that each of them in due course retired to his or her dry, comfortable, Borokii-style bed. Even the seemingly perpetual internal spring that powered Tooqui finally ran down, and the little Gwurran collapsed into deep sleep with nary a word of good night to anyone.
Lying on his overstuffed sleeping pad, Obi-Wan contemplated Luminara’s already softly sleeping form in light of what she had accomplished earlier that evening. He did not think he could have done it. His particular talents lay elsewhere. The sight of her vaulting from the back of one
surepp to another, never lingering long enough for her presence to unduly alarm a single beast, knowing that a single slip might mean certain death despite anything Jedi training could do, had aroused in him the kind of admiration one normally reserved for the actions of those on the Jedi Council. He wanted very much to ask her exactly how she had managed certain seemingly impossible moves.
But not tonight, he told himself firmly. This night was for savoring the accomplishments of the day and for anticipating the achievements to be realized tomorrow. Time enough later to deal with other thoughts, other matters.
Nearby, Anakin Skywalker relaxed for the first time in weeks. If Master Luminara’s feat was followed, as Master Obi-Wan believed, by a successful meeting with the Borokii Council of Elders, then they would at least be able to return to Cuipernam and from there to civilization. A result devoutly to be wished, because anything that took him away from Ansion brought him closer to where he really wanted to be.
Thoughts swirling in anticipation of the successful end of their mission, he allowed himself, for the first time in many days, to drift slowly into a sleep that was as contented as it was deep.
While there was plenty of convivial chatter and casual conversation when the group gathered this time, all of the conspirators wore their concerns like jewelry. Despite the overweening air of gaiety, one could cut the tension inside the transport with a knife. Large enough to carry fifty passengers in luxury and comfort, the vehicle was presently conveying half that number, together with their attendant serving droids.
Below, the endless world-city that was Coruscant gleamed golden in the morning sun as the planet’s star rose over the distant, irregular horizon of towers and domes. None of the passengers was pleased with the timing of the convocation, but all had agreed to it. There was dissension within the movement, and it had to be resolved. For many of the participants, the time for talking was done with. Those arguing in favor of moving forward now were making their case forcefully, even brusquely. To them, it was not a matter of moving too fast. It was simply that as far as they were concerned, the time for waiting was at an end.
The Approaching Storm Page 26