Silently, the group mounted their restless suubatars. As they did so, both Kyakhta and Bulgan took note of the lifeless bodies of the four Qulun sentinels.
Luminara's animal reared nervously on its hind and middle legs and she fought to control it while staying in the saddle. A few weeks ago, she would surely have been thrown. But with time had come experience, and with experience, confidence.
Getting the towering beast back under control, she followed the guides as they urged their mounts northward. Firm hands and proper guidance restored to them, the bounding suubatars cleared the electrified barrier of the portable corral easily. Then they were out in the rain, racing northward across the prairie. Somewhere ahead lay the elusive overclan, and the closing stages of their mission.
Soergg had succeeded in seriously delaying them and throwing them off their timetable. Hopefully, the Hutt had not de layed them too much. As she let her suubatar carry her off into the night, Luminara prayed that the Unity representatives would keep to their promise to wait until the Jedi returned before holding the vote on whether or not to take Ansion out of the Republic. From experience and studies she knew that such a vote, once concluded, would be almost impossible to reverse.
Behind them, a furious Baiuntu saw what was happening and attempted to rally a few of his clanfolk. His hopes of mounting a pursuit were dashed by the sight of numerous panicky Qulun still running wildly through their lorqual- devastated encampment.
'You idiots! Gather yourselves. Collect your wits!' His sadain bounding and rearing beneath him, he fought to control it while assembling a chase party around him. Preoccupied with the escaping prisoners and the loss of the fee they represented, he did not see what was bearing down on him. But his sadain did, and bucked him off so that it could escape.
'You miserable, worthless!. .' Sitting on the ground in the grass and mud, the Qulun chieftain was beside himself. What a night! And it had begun so promisingly. Heaving himself to his feet, he slapped irately at his mud- spattered clothing. A glance revealed that he was alone. The offworlders had gone, though by what means they had escaped he could not imagine. Had he held them long enough to collect the payment promised by the Hutt? It remained a possibility. The effort of holding the Jedi might still prove worth the effort. As for the thrice-cursed herd of lorqual, it had finally departed, no doubt to reassemble placidly somewhere just south of the camp it had just reduced to chaos. And he was here, out in the grass, facing a short but muddy walk back to his bed.
Well, he had led his clan through worse. Not for nothing had he acquired a reputation as a perspicacious leader as well as a shrewd trader. There would be other days, other opportunities for profit. A wise merchant knows how to resign himself to loss as well as how to anticipate profit. Everything depended on whether they had delayed the offworlders long enough to satisfy the city merchant. He started back toward the light of the camp's remaining intact glowpoles.
Something coughed softly behind him.
He took another step, and it coughed again. Turning sharply, fingers shaking, he fumbled frantically for his blaster, the fine one he had acquired at the annual trade fair in distant Piyanzi. His fingers came up empty.
The weapon must have spilled from its holster when he had been thrown by the accursed sadain.
Dropping to his knees, he ignored the mud and the rain as he commenced a furious search for his blaster. Ou, there it was, lying in the grass not far from where he had been standing. All would be well now, if not as well as it had been when the sun had set. Relieved, he reached for the gun. As he did so, a trio of closely set eyes materialized just above it. Flashing red murder, they were flanked by another trinity of eyes, and another, and still another. Gritting his teeth, he made a lunge for the blaster. For such a big individual, Baiuntu was quick, very quick.
But not nearly so quick as a shanh.
Chapter 14
Morning brought with it a change in the weather as well as in everyone's outlook. Cleansed by the previous night's tem pest, the plains wore rain-swept freshness like a coat of new lacquer. The sun shone down soothingly, small winged seed-crackers chittered vividly as they flitted from grass to copse, and even the usually imperturbable suubatars ran with a youthful spring in their sextuple step. No doubt the riders would have enjoyed the morning even more had they not been exhausted from riding all night.
Still, the brisk morning air was undeniably invigorating. Standing up on his saddle, maintaining perfect balance as his mount loped along beneath him, Obi-Wan proceeded to run through a series of stretching exercises. The two Padawans observed the demonstration admiringly. Anakin knew that if he were to try such a stunt, he'd be picking himself out of the grass within minutes. What Obi-Wan was doing demanded perfect coordination, complete confidence in his own abilities, and nerves of steel. But then, his teacher was well known for his mastery of the mysteries of the body's neuromuscular complexities.
Riding close alongside, Luminara occasionally glanced in the direction of the other Jedi Knight. She could have matched his movements, but preferred to rest. Before long she turned her attention back to the prairie ahead. There was a question or two that needed to be asked of their guides. Gently spurring her suu-batar, she accelerated away from Kenobi and up to join them.
That left Obi-Wan alone to contemplate the gently rolling grassland in front of them. As was always the case on a new world, there was plenty to study: geology and climate as well as the more immediate flora and fauna.
Unbeknownst to him, Anakin continued to observe his mentor from a distance. Most of the time, he reflected, it was impossible to tell what the Master was thinking. Was that the fate of all Jedi-to gradually grow solitary, withdrawn, and distant? Looking at the young woman riding along beside him, it was difficult to envision such a melancholic transformation overtaking the spirited and energetic Barriss. His fellow Padawan was full of life. And to be fair, he told himself, Luminara Unduli was far more animated than Obi-Wan. Was it only male Jedi, then, who were destined to live lives of endless solemn introspection?
That would not happen to him, he vowed silently. Whatever the future brought, he resolved it would not include the life of dour reserve that seemed to afflict Master Obi-Wan. He recalled the marvelous, spirited storytelling performance his teacher had put on for the enthralled Yiwa. Was he judging Obi-Wan too harshly? Was it the Jedi's fault that he had never felt the kind of stirrings that moved his Padawan to stare for hours on end at the night sky and call out in silence to a certain distant star? His teachings told him to be compassionate when faced with the deprivation of others. Even a student could spare sympathy for a teacher, he decided. Then and there he resolved to always keep that in mind when arguing with Obi-Wan.
