“Listen to me! Talk to me, not this ugly beady-eyed one! Jaja, I’m talking to you, you noisy stupid heads! It’s me, Tooqui! Listen to me!” In his uncontrolled rage at being ignored by his fellows, he was all but bouncing off the narrow enclosing walls.
Meanwhile, Barriss continued to reply to as many of the thief’s now inquisitive companions as her limited knowledge of their language would allow. She learned that they were called Gwurran, that they lived in the caves and crevices that ran through these hills, and that they hated the Alwari nomads.
“Not all nomads are bad,” Barriss told them. “The Alwari are like any other people. There are good people among them, and bad people. My kind, humans, are no different. There is good and bad in everyone.”
“Nomads kill Gwurran,” one of the tribespeople informed her. “Gwurran have to live here, in hill country, to survive.”
“Not our nomads,” she countered. “Like I told you, they come from far, far away. I’m sure they’ve never hurt a Gwurran in their lives. They may never even have seen one of your kind.” Even as she said it, she fervently hoped it was true. It was hard to imagine the thoughtful Kyakhta or the kindly Bulgan ever showing such unreasoning hostility to a cousin, even in their formerly addled condition. “Why not come and see for yourselves? Come back with me and meet my friends. We’ll have a party. You can try some interesting food.”
Her assailants exchanged dawning glances. “Party?” someone murmured hopefully.
“Food?” exclaimed another expectantly.
“… is anybody listen to me?” Having spent some time now bouncing off the walls, the Gwurran who called himself Tooqui was out of breath and out of energy. “This Tooqui talking. You know Tooqui. Tooqui who—” Dumping his ill-gotten gains indifferently to one side, the thief sat down on the gravel floor of the fissure and exhaled deeply. “Ah, moojpuck! Nobody care. Gwurran bunch of brainless bonehead stupids.” Thrusting an accusing finger at Barriss, Tooqui raised what was left of his voice.
“This all you fault, you small-head outland big-lips! You twist word noises, make friends forget Tooqui. I hate you.”
She walked toward the disheartened thief. Everyone on the rim above went suddenly quiet. As for the talkative Tooqui, seeing the much larger stranger approach, he picked up one of the foodpaks and backed up as far as he could.
“You keep away from Tooqui, you long-leg ugly bean thing! Tooqui fight you! Tooqui kill!”
Halting, she indicated the foodpak he held awkwardly in a throwing position. “Not with a few packets of dehydrated energy pudding, I don’t think.” To make herself less intimidating, she knelt, bringing her face as close to the Gwurran’s level as she could manage. It was a risk. While concentrating on the thief, she couldn’t keep an eye on his rock-armed comrades overhead. If they chose to bombard her while she was talking to him, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. But as Luminara had often told her, it was difficult to accomplish anything worthwhile without the taking of a risk.
Little did she know that at that very minute, on distant Coruscant, a group of extremely powerful and very determined individuals were contemplating that exact same conundrum—though for them, the stakes were inconceivably higher.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Tooqui. I want us to be friends.” She nodded up at his comrades who lined the top of the fissure. Some still held rocks in their small but strong three-fingered hands. She fought not to show her nervousness. “I want all of us to be friends.”
The Gwurran hesitated, aware that his fellow tribesfolk were following with great interest the confrontation being played out below. “You not hurt Tooqui? You not angry with him?”
She smiled engagingly. “On the contrary, I admire you for what you did. I imagine it’s not every Gwurran who would be so bold as to try to steal in broad daylight from a party of tall, strong offworlders like myself and my companions.”
Though still uncertain and continuing to eye her guardedly, he slowly lowered the foodpak and moved away from the wall. “Jaja, that true so. Nobody but Tooqui brave or clever enough to do it.” He came a little closer. “Tooqui bravest brave of all Gwurran.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she responded, repressing a smile. “Actually, I think you’re kind of friendly.”
He took immediate offense, standing as tall as he could. This brought his face up to the level of the Padawan’s stomach. “Tooqui not friendly! Tooqui most fierce ferocious slayer of all Gwurran enemies!”
“I’m sure you are,” she agreed, reaching out to brush the fur on his forehead from back to front. He stumbled away from her, flailing irately at his head as he struggled to smooth down his ruffled fur.
“Don’t do that! Don’t touch Tooqui.” Fur once more flattened and smoothed back, he glared up at her out of bulging, orange-tinted eyes. “Tooqui have much dignity.”
“Sorry.” She lowered her offending hand, palm upward. “Now, if you and I are going to be friends, Tooqui, and if you’re going to join the party, you have to return what you took.”
The Gwurran eyed the three foodpaks uncertainly. “Tooqui work hard for to steal this stuff.”
“Take my word for it, you wouldn’t like it anyway. At least, not until it’s been properly rehydrated. If you’ll come back with me, I’ll see that you’re the first one who gets to taste it.”
“First one? Tooqui be first?” His single nostril sniffed at the pak he still held. “Tooqui always first.”
In your own mind, anyway, you sly little sneak. “It’s settled, then? You’ll come back with me, we’ll be friends, and we’ll have a party?”
The Gwurran vacillated only a moment longer. Then he confidently placed first one foodpak and then the other two in Barriss’s waiting arms.
“Tooqui consent to join you.” Leaning back, he regarded his comrades on the rim above. “It okay okay now. Tooqui make stranger harmless. All Gwurran can come down safely safely now. We go to see what nasty ugly outlander strangers got to offer Gwurran.”
Smiling to herself at the little brigand’s bravado, Barriss waited while the rest of the chattering Gwurran, agile as spiders, scrambled down the walls of the fissure to join them. Tooqui’s blustering notwithstanding, they largely ignored him as they pushed and shoved to get close to her, feeling her feet, her exposed lower arms, and her protective clothing. She put up with their innocent, wide-eyed curiosity for several minutes, until it threatened to become more intimate than she was prepared to tolerate. Then she shrugged them off and started back down the cleft, the three foodpaks slung over her left shoulder, accompanied by the entire tribe of chattering, jabbering, energized Gwurran.
Slender but strong fingers continued to tug at her as she walked, along with a continuous flow of questions.
“Where humans come from?… Why you so silly-tall?… What happened to rest of you hair?… How can you see see out of such small small flat flat eyes?… What this shiny-pretty on you waist?…”
“Don’t touch that.” She slapped the probing fingers away from her belt. The notion of a lightsaber in the hands of an unruly, combative, slightly rowdy Gwurran was more than a little unsettling. In the constricted confines of the fracture in the hillside, the riotous babble of the diminutive Ansionians was deafening.
“She can’t just have disappeared into thin air!”
For the tenth, or maybe the twentieth time, Luminara ran through the list of possibilities. Barriss had gone walking outside the protective overhang and had managed to get herself lost. She had found something of interest and wandered off into the hills. Something vast and voracious had swooped down out of the sky and carried her off. She was attending to personal needs that were taking more time than usual.
The last seemed the most likely, but even allowing for a severe gastrointestinal upset, the Padawan ought to have reported back in by now. If nothing else, she should have used her comlink. That she hadn’t done so suggested a number of possible explanations. The device was broken, its power pack had inexplicably gone dead, s
he had lost it off her belt somewhere and was even now searching some hillside for it, or—it had been forcibly taken from her. Who or what might be responsible for the latter Luminara could not imagine, but in the absence of solid facts, any and all possibilities had to be considered.
Movement made her turn. Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Kyakhta returned from searching the slopes outside their little refuge. “No sign of her anywhere.” Anakin’s tone was full of concern. “Would she have run somewhere instead of walking?”
“That would depend on the circumstances, wouldn’t it?” Luminara was hard-pressed to keep anger and sarcasm out of her voice. She knew that Barriss’s absence had nothing to do with Anakin. But the Padawan was Luminara’s responsibility. If anything had happened to her …
Anakin had bristled at Luminara’s tone, but held his peace. It was not his place to question a Jedi Knight, not even if she was being unreasonably abrupt. He could not yet talk back to someone like Luminara Unduli as an equal. Soon, though. Soon …
Bulgan looked up at her out of his one good eye. “We’ll take the suubatars and make a spiraling sweep of these hills and gullies, Master Luminara. We can cover much more ground that way. Perhaps she has fallen into a hole in the rocks and hurt a leg.”
A worried Luminara nodded absently. Sitting high up on the back of a suubatar would certainly provide a better view than was available from searching on foot. The implications of the Alwari’s observation were distressing. If Barriss had fallen into a hole, and if the hole was big enough, and if she had been knocked unconscious, they might never find her.
That was when they heard a voice hailing them.
“Hey, everybody. I’m over here.”
Racing around a pair of resting suubatars, they saw the object of everyone’s present concern emerging on all fours from beneath a projecting slab of rock. The crawlway it concealed was exceedingly well hidden from anyone not standing directly in front of it and bending to look under the jutting stone.
“Barriss! Are you al—?” Slowing as she drew near, Luminara’s expression quickly changed from open concern to a reproving scowl. “Where have you been, Padawan? We’ve been looking all over for you. And—are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.” Rising from the crawlway, Barriss brushed dust from her hands and stretched. “And so are our new friends.”
Luminara was not alone in taking a couple of surprised steps backward as a veritable deluge of noisy, jabbering, furry bipeds spewed from the concealed crawlway. In an instant, they were investigating Barriss’s companions with the same candid zeal and lack of discretion they had shown toward her.
“Suubatar,” one shouted as it clambered up onto the back of Kyakhta’s mount. Glowering his irritation, the guide hurried toward it.
“You, little fella! Get down from there! Get down just now!”
Sitting atop the unconcerned suubatar’s middle shoulders, the brown and blue Gwurran made energetic faces down at the aggravated guide. “Nyngwah nooglik, goofy-talking no-hair outlander darling! You make make me!”
“Why you little!…” Kyakhta would have started up after the taunting pygmy, but Luminara called him back.
“Never mind that one now, Kyakhta.”
“But Master Luminara, it is—”
“I said, never mind. Come and meet these people.”
“People?” Muttering under his breath, Kyakhta reluctantly complied with the Jedi’s order. “These are not people. These are dirt crawlers.”
As Barriss proceeded to explain the reasons for her extended absence, Luminara was soon mollified. The Padawan’s tale was brief but intriguing.
“… and so I convinced Tooqui here to return what he’d taken, and to bring along his whole tribe with him.” Barriss eyed her teacher hesitantly. “I promised them a kind of a party.”
Luminara frowned. “This is not a pleasure trip, Padawan. Obi-Wan, what do you think about this?”
The other Jedi considered. After a moment, somewhat unexpectedly, he grinned. “A Padawan’s promise does not bind a Jedi, but that doesn’t mean it should not be honored. We don’t have musicians, and speaking for myself, I feel I’ve already done enough entertaining on this journey. But we can certainly show them some things, and let them try a taste of our food. Maybe they’ll consider accepting a little education about the galaxy at large in place of singing and dancing. Perhaps that’ll be enough entertainment for this get-together to qualify as a ‘party.’ ”
Actually, it did not matter what the travelers did: the Gwurran seemed to find everything and anything about the humans most amusing. Whether it was demonstrating technical gear, or exposing their differently toned furless flesh, or matching five comparatively thick human fingers against three slimmer Ansionian ones, the tribe was utterly enthralled. Wholly devoid of tact, they crawled over everything: travelers, dozing suubatars, and supply packs alike. But there were no more attempts at petty theft. When one adolescent attempted to make off with a plasticine pack covering, she was roundly chastised by several of the adults. Luminara was gratified to see that friendship, if not comprehensive understanding, had been established.
At least, it had been established between human and Gwurran. The two petulant Alwari guides observed the proceedings in bad-tempered silence, tolerant of the tribe’s antics but less than enthusiastic—to the point that Luminara felt compelled to question them about their reticence.
“Why the attitude, my friends?” she asked them. “Is it that you’ve had bad dealings with people like this before?”
“I’ve never seen creatures like this before.” Kyakhta remained scrunched up against his softly breathing suubatar, as if he was afraid a bunch of the Gwurran were going to hoist the huge animal up onto their shoulders and walk off with it. “Don’t know their kind, don’t think I want to know.”
“Alwari keep away from hilly places like this,” Bulgan added, “so it’s not surprising my clan has never encountered such as these.”
“But they’re not so very different from you,” she pointed out. “They’re much smaller, true. That should make them less of a threat, not more. So what if their eyes are slightly bigger in proportion to their faces than yours are, and unlike the Alwari they’re completely covered in fur? They speak a variant of your language, and they look and act like the representatives of many other tribes we saw in Cuipernam.”
“Not Alwari,” the normally equable Bulgan argued. “Ignorant little savages is what they are.”
“Ah, I see.” She turned to watch the merriment as Obi-Wan demonstrated how a self-heating foodpak worked. Squeals of delight followed by energetic conversation rose from his furry audience. “So the Alwari are educated, sophisticated, forward-looking beings, while these Gwurran are primitive ignoramuses?” The guides’ ensuing silence was answer enough.
Nodding knowingly, Luminara eyed each of them in turn. “Isn’t that how the city folk of Ansion look upon the Alwari?”
Kyakhta looked confused. As for Bulgan, his face contorted as he struggled to get a handle on the concept. Then he looked at his friend and companion. If it was possible for an Alwari to look sheepish, both guides succeeded.
“You are a good teacher, Master Luminara.” Kyakhta rose from his resting position. “Instead of yelling and screaming, you let those you are instructing come to the truth at their own speed, by their own road.” Looking past her, both he and Bulgan contemplated the frenetically active but good-natured Gwurran from a new perspective. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe they are just curious, and not a tribe that lives by stealing.”
“Give them a chance. That’s all that’s being asked here. Like Barriss gave you and Bulgan a chance.”
“That is fair enough.” Gesturing positively, Kyakhta moved off to see if they could help with Obi-Wan’s demonstrations. Watching them go, Luminara felt she had struck a small blow for the kind of tolerance and understanding that would be needed to make for a just and strong planetary government.
And for a durable Republic as well,
she told herself as she watched Barriss at work.
“But we’re not nomads.” The Padawan was trying to explain the nature and purpose of the Jedi Knights to a small cluster of attentive but obviously confused Gwurran.
“Sure sure you are,” argued one of the tribe. “You tell us what Jedi folk do: travel travel all the time, go from this place to that place to next place, always on the moving, never staying same place very long.” She looked to her multihued companions for support. “That a nomad.”
“It’s true that some of us do seem never to put down any roots,” Luminara admitted. “But others do live for a long time in one place. If you rise to a position on the Jedi Council, for example, you find yourself spending most of your time on Coruscant.”
“What a Coruscant?” one of the other Gwurran asked.
“Another whole world, like Ansion,” Barriss explained.
The tribesfolk exchanged puzzled looks. “What an Ansion?” one finally inquired ingenuously. With a resigned sigh, Barriss did her best to try to explain the concept of multiple worlds. It would have been easier at night, with stars in the sky. Clearly, the horizons of the Gwurran were far more limited than those of the Alwari.
Much of the remainder of the day, when the travelers should have been galloping through the hills and across the open prairie beyond, was spent educating and entertaining the Gwurran, who were passionate in their desire to learn, to explore every new object and idea. What they needed, Luminara decided, was not a casual visit but a permanent school, to at least bring them up to the educational level of the taller nomads they so disliked. Starting with physical and intellectual disadvantages, they needed proportionately more help. When they returned to Cuipernam, she resolved to mention it to the proper authorities. Failing local interest, there were societies and organizations within the Republic specifically designed to help isolated ethnic groups like the Gwurran.