Placing his right hand over his face and his left over the back of his head, he declaimed as sonorously as his small stature would permit. “May Tooqui shrivel in the sun if he ever take a grain crumb from his new friends without asking. May his insides spill out on the ground and run run away like worm suckers. May all his relatives burn in grass fire that cleans the open places and—”
“All right, all right.” She was laughing softly despite herself. “I get the picture.” Although she had the feeling that Tooqui wouldn’t particularly mind if certain of his relatives did happen to meet an untimely and unpleasant end. “You’re brave and true. But we still can’t take you with us. As Barriss has already told you and your fellows, we’re engaged in a difficult and dangerous mission and have no time to look after guests.”
“Tooqui take care of self! You see see. Tooqui not afraid of danger.” Once more he slapped himself on the chest. “Tooqui eat danger for morning meal! Make good pet, too.”
She blinked. “Pet? You’re an intelligent being, Tooqui. You can’t be a pet.”
“Why not? Gwurran keep small yirans and sometimes omohts as pets. They get free food, free living place, protection from shanhs and other things that want eat them. Seem like pretty good deal to me. If I intelligent like you say, then not I smart enough to choose was I want to be?”
“It’s not that.” The last thing she would have expected was for the glib Gwurran to confuse her with subtle academic argument. “It just—it wouldn’t be proper, that’s all.”
“If I intelligent enough choose for myself, then where be improperness?” He smiled, showing miniature versions of the same sharp teeth as their guides. “That intelligent Tooqui’s choice: I want want go with you new friends as pet. Learn about Ansion world-ball. Maybe other world-balls, too. Learn much, then come back and help Gwurran.”
Not only was the proposal rational, it was downright noble, Luminara mused—although Tooqui doubtless had personal motives as well. How was she going to put him off? Jedi were taught to use logic and reason on those who disagreed with them, not to terminate an awkward dispute by saying, “because I say so.”
“Jedi can’t have pets,” she finally declared in exasperation.
“Where does it say that in the regulations, Master?” It was Barriss, injecting herself into the debate at the worst possible time. Luminara glared at her Padawan.
“I’m sure it says something of the kind somewhere. Anyway, we’re not equipped to accommodate guests.”
“Tooqui equip self.” Putting a hand in Barriss’, the Gwurran smiled innocently. “See? Good pet, yes yes?”
“Please!” Turning to resume her final packing check, Luminara grumbled as she struggled to secure a strap seal. “If you want to take responsibility for him, Barriss, then I suppose he can come along.” She looked back sharply. “But if you cause us the least trouble, Tooqui, if you slow us down or impede our work in an way, then you have to leave leave. It’s back to the hills for you, and no arguments. Agreed?”
Repeating his hands-over-face-and-head gesture, the eager Gwurran replied without hesitation. “If I cause any impede-thing, may I rot rot slowly in decaying water. May all my fur turn purple and I sick sick turn myself inside out. May I chew on my feet and—”
“Just keep him quiet,” an exasperated Luminara instructed her Padawan. “And away from me.”
“He’ll be good.” Bending over, Barriss patted the Gwurran on his furry pate. “Won’t you, Tooqui?”
“Good as a Gwurran can be be,” he told her genially.
Somehow, Luminara did not find that pledge particularly reassuring.
Chapter Twelve
Obi-Wan was indifferent to, if not openly amused by, the antics of the newest member of their party, while Anakin was quietly pleased. The Gwurran was someone new to talk to, even if his vocabulary was limited and tended to repetition. He and Barriss took turns looking after Tooqui who, true to his word, needed very little looking after at all. The energetic native helped with everything, from unpacking the suubatars at night to gathering fuel for the campfire, to learning how to operate simple devices such as the compact fire-starter and water-maker. He was a fast learner, eager to know everything about anything. Or everything everything, as he habitually put it.
Only the Alwari guides were displeased by his presence among them. They did not exactly shun him, because they knew that would displease their employers. But neither did they go out of their way to assist in his instruction, or to become fast friends. The gulf that existed between Alwari and Gwurran was inexplicable to Luminara, as they both sprang from the same ancestors. Physically, they differed significantly only in size and hirsuteness. To someone used to dealing on a daily basis with representatives of different species who differed far more radically in their physical appearance, the continuing enmity displayed by the two guides was hard to understand. Hopefully, traveling together would eventually oblige Kyakhta and Bulgan to view their smallish cousin in a better light.
At present there wasn’t much of the latter, as the sun was beginning to rise over the northern horizon. It was the same horizon they had been riding toward for days; flat and grassy. A pack of shanhs had shadowed them for a night and a day, but sensing no weakness in either suubatars or their riders, had given up and drifted off in search of easier prey.
“Something moving from east to west along the horizon,” Kyakhta called out. Though still waking up, everyone immediately turned in that direction.
Obi-Wan had his electrobinoculars out and was gazing at the indicated spot, trying to resolve the distant movement.
“Borokii?” Anakin inquired hopefully.
Lowering the powerful scanning device, the Jedi replied uncertainly. “I don’t know. Kyakhta and Bulgan will tell us. But I have a feeling not. From what we’ve been told, the overclans are like the Yiwa, like all Alwari, in that they’re herding nomads.” He nodded in the direction of distant movement. “Whoever these are, they seem to be more advanced than that.” He urged his mount forward. “Or at least, they choose to travel with far more in the way of material goods. I don’t see any signs of a domesticated herd. No dorgum, no awiquod—nothing but draft animals. That means that whatever they are, they’re not the Borokii”
Obi-Wan’s assessment turned out to be correct. The procession that was advancing in their direction was not the sought-after preeminent overclan. Not only did it not include any herd animals such as they had encountered among the Yiwa, but it was also loud to the point of boisterousness. It was Bulgan who eventually identified the clanging, noisy procession as soon as it had drawn near enough to be recognized.
“It’s a Qulun clan. The Qulun are traders. They operate freely among both the Alwari and the city folk. Though no one likes them very much, there’s a need for them out on the plains, in the absence of shops and communications. Oft times they have very interesting things for sale.”
“What do they accept in return?” Obi-Wan asked the guide.
Bulgan licked his lower teeth. “Besides money? All manner of goods. Cuts of dried meat from the Alwari herds. Fruits and vegetables gathered from remote parts of Ansion. Wonderful handcrafted items made mostly by the females of each clan. Only the best.”
The Jedi indicated his understanding. In a Republic long since sated with the commonplace, exotic foodstuffs were much sought-after items. So were handicrafts. Bored with machine-made goods, the wealthy and the curious were always willing to pay high prices for unique handmade items that hailed from distant worlds with strange names.
“See.” Bulgan rose slightly in his saddle. “They’re coming out to greet us.”
The three riders who broke away from the main column headed straight toward the group of travelers, who responded by slowing to meet them. Otherwise the suubatars would have easily outdistanced the powerful but much shorter sadains. Falling in line alongside Luminara and Barriss’ mounts, the trio of Qulun flashed wide smiles and waved energetic greetings. It was a notably less confrontational meeting than
the earlier one with the Yiwa. No weapons were prominently displayed, no suspicious glances were directed toward the newcomers. Not that their eyes, the Jedi noted, were unbusy. They missed nothing, least of all the overstuffed supply packs strapped to the second back of each animal.
Riding with Barriss while clambering back and forth along the length of her suubatar from head to tail, Tooqui kept up a steady stream of muted chatter. “Strange people these. Tooqui never see before. Not known to Gwurran.” Tilting back his head, he sniffed of the prairie air with his single, wide nostril. “Smell different from Alwari.”
“They look different, too,” she commented. “Their costumes, the tack on their sadains, the way their procession is organized are very dissimilar from the Yiwa. What do you think, Tooqui?”
The Gwurran’s eagerness never flagged. “More food for Tooqui’s head. More new things to see and learn about.”
“Well, if you talk talk all the time you won’t be able to concentrate on those new things, and neither will I. How about keeping quiet for a while?”
“Tooqui quiet? Two things that not go together.” He settled himself down close to her, taking up minimal space on the edge of the saddle. “But master command, so Tooqui must obey.” He smiled. “Tooqui good pet always.”
“Sarcasm is not a quality many people desire to have in their ‘pets’.”
“Their loss loss.” But as she requested, the Gwurran kept his mouth closed, and despite the obvious strain, settled for observing the newcomers in silence.
Save for their far louder, more garish attire, two of the riders could have passed unnoticed among the Yiwa. Not their leader, though, for such he obviously was. This generously proportioned individual clearly put a strain on his chosen sadain. Unlike his companions, or for that matter Kyakhta, he had no mane running from the top of his head down his back. Looking at him, Luminara suspected his smooth pate was the result of an intentional close shave as opposed to natural fur loss as in Bulgan’s case. In its way, his bald head, gleaming in the morning sun, was as distinctive as his girth. For all that, he rode gracefully atop his hardworking steed.
“Welcome, offworlders! The Qulun bid you welcome!”
Luminara tried to remember how many spaceports Ansion boasted. Clearly these traders, or at least their leader, had visited one or more where he had enjoyed the opportunity to encounter sentients from other parts of the Republic.
“Thankings for your greeting,” Kyakhta responded formally. “We ride north.”
“So we see.” Performing a wondrously gravity-defying stunt, the portly leader bowed without falling off his mount. “I am Baiuntu, chief trader of this clan faction. What seek a mix of offworlders and Alwari in the north country?”
Appreciative of the chief’s description of him as Alwari, Kyakhta replied with good grace. “The Borokii.”
“Borokii! What do offworlders seek among the overclan?”
Leaning slightly outward from his saddle, Obi-Wan replied with a question of his own while simultaneously ignoring the chieftain’s. “Can you help us?”
“Perhaps, perhaps.” Forgoing the reins of his sadain along with his query, the chief extended both heavy arms wide. Luminara watched in fascination. Baiuntu was the first truly portly Ansionian she had seen. “Tonight you dine with us. The Qulun are always keen on company. New faces mean new news.”
“And potential new customer,” Anakin murmured across to Barriss, “though I wouldn’t see that as a reason not to chat with them.”
“It’s not up to us.” Though she professed disinterest, Barriss hoped the masters would consent to the Qulun leader’s request. It would be yet another chance to learn more about Ansionian society—and besides, the food would be fresh.
Obi-Wan and Luminara saw no reason not to stop and spend the night among the effervescent traders. So long as each side kept to its own camp, security could be maintained, and there was the implication that the Qulun might be able to narrow down and therefore speed the search of the elusive Borokii. To Barriss’ surprise, Tooqui stayed close to her instead of straying. For reasons of his own, he continued to be uncharacteristically closemouthed, speaking only when one of the Qulun was around. When she inquired as to the reason behind his unusual silence, he had his usual ready answer.
“Qulun think Tooqui simple dumb dumb pet. Is good position to do trading from.”
“We’re not here to trade.” She eyed him warningly. “We’re here to make friends, and to maybe learn more about the whereabouts of the overclan. That’s all.”
The Gwurran looked hurt. “Tooqui not want much. Something to eat, maybe, or little baby-toy for small Gwurran, or simple weapon to overawe bully Gwurran with.”
“Never mind that,” she told him firmly. “Talk to them or keep quiet, that’s up to you. But—no talk of trading.” She wore a knowing expression. “Pets don’t engage in trade.”
“No, but their masters do,” he countered without hesitation. “Maybe if silly-fun stupid-face pet do funny tricks for master, grateful Barriss buy little trinket-thing for poor poor Tooqui?”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied without further comment. Urging her mount forward at a faster pace forced the Gwurran to shut up and concentrate on holding on.
Riding importantly in the lead, Baiuntu led the visitors to the top of the ridge where the Qulun were making camp. Self–erecting dwellings were already unfolding walls and roofs while busy adolescents attached heating equipment and atmospheric water condensers. Automatic braces secured the temporary structures, which were designed to be put up and taken down every day, against the ubiquitous wind. Wonderfully decorated with enamels, painted mirrors, and all manner of eye candy, one pair of these distinctive structures drew Luminara's attention even before they were fully assembled.
“Trading room,” Bulgan explained in response to her question. “The more eye-catching, the better.” He passed a hand across both eyes, the Ansionian equivalent of winking. “Dazzle a customer; that’s one of the hallmarks of the Qulun. Blinded buyers are agreeable buyers.”
She rode easily on her well-padded saddle, the suubatar striding along effortlessly beneath her. “Are you saying that the Qulun cheat in their dealings?”
“Haja, no, Master Luminara. They are like any merchants, be they fixed in place as they are in the city or fully mobile as out here on the prairie. Some are wholly honorable while others are outright bandits. One can’t say one has truly done dealing until one has dealt with them. To many traders, shady and clever have freely interchangeable meanings.”
“Well, we’re not on a shopping excursion, so it shouldn’t matter.” Rising up slightly from her saddle, she surveyed the surrounding plains. “Why are they setting up shop here? This country isn’t exactly crawling with customers.”
The Alwari gestured nonchalantly. “They are opening up only a couple of their many shops. No doubt they hope buyers will materialize from out of the grass.” He chuckled the by now familiar Ansionian laugh, adding a few sharp knuckle cracks for emphasis. “Without a shop or two open for business, the Qulun would probably be uncomfortable. For fear of missing even one potential customer, they would lose sleep.”
The welcome they received certainly stood out in contrast to how they had been greeted by the initially mistrustful Yiwa. Though weapons were visible, they were not brandished in the newcomers’ direction. The visitors’ steeds were given pride of place in the clan’s corral, along with the best water and fodder. Luminara found herself and her friends directed to a large portable structure whose interior turned out to be lined with thick carpets, self-adjusting cushions, and all manner of conveniences one would not expect to find in the middle of the northern Ansionian plains. Anything they asked for that the Qulun could provide was provided—free of charge. Obi-Wan was not surprised at the largesse. Such tactics were a universal means for softening up potential customers.
Barriss and Anakin didn’t concern themselves with such mundanities, preferring to leave the details of
the encounter to their masters. Instead, they allowed themselves to relax and enjoy the exotic food and drink, the entertaining light-wick sculptures, and the petite perfumed dance pixies that looped endlessly about the room. In contrast, Tooqui was unnaturally subdued. The little Gwurran certainly enjoyed himself, availing himself as readily as his human friends of the flush of small luxuries. But surrounded by so many unusually eager tall strangers, he was cautious in his movements, and kept his opinions to himself.
Baiuntu was delighted to have offworld visitors. “I have met many in my dealings,” he told them that evening as they shared the comforts of the designated visitors’ house.
“In Cuipernam?” Anakin was munching on something blue-green, plump, and delicious.
“In Cuipernam,” their host boasted, “and in Doigon, and Flerauw. A smattering of your own kind as well as a most interesting variety of others.” He rested both pudgy, long-fingered hands on his imposing belly. “Merchants are a species unto themselves, it seems. Shape has nothing to do with it. The Qulun realized this from the first time a vessel from another world set down here to trade.”
As he declaimed, he kept popping small purple things into his mouth. They crunched noisily against his hard palate. Detecting what he thought was some slight movement among them before they disappeared down the chieftain’s gullet, Anakin decided not to ask what they were. While there was a time for Jedi boldness, there were also occasions when it was better to exercise restraint.
“Then you feel that the Qulun have benefited from Ansion’s membership in the Republic?” Luminara inquired encouragingly.
Their host made a face. “I would rather talk business than politics, but since you ask—yes, I do.”
“And your clanfolk feel similarly?” Obi-Wan sipped at something sweet, warm, and refreshing.
“That I cannot say. Most are not so sophisticated in such matters as Baiuntu. Like all true Qulun, they will give their allegiance to whoever they believe will make them the most money.”
Star Wars: The Approaching Storm Page 19