'What matters is that we seem to be safe.' Obi-Wan squinted at the setting sun. 'Still, we'll mount guard tonight. Just to be sure.'
Anakin was glad when his turn came to stand watch. It was late, after midnight Ansion time, when Barriss came to shake him awake. A touch was all that was necessary.
'Nothing to report.' She whispered so as not to wake the others. As he rose and donned his upper clothing, she was al ready slipping tiredly into her sleep sack. 'You don't see anything out there, but you can hear it moving around. This world is full of furtive night sounds that live in the grass.' He couldn't be certain, but he thought she was asleep before she closed her eyes.
The lookout location had been carefully chosen by their Al- wari guides. It was the highest point near their campsite, and only a very slight rise at that: a mere hiccup in the ground. Still, it provided the nearest thing to an actual vantage point within walking distance of the stream. Finding a firm, comfortable place to stand, he settled down to wait out his three-hour shift.
Most individuals would have found the duty unutterably boring. Not Anakin. Raised by a single parent, without any siblings, he was used to being by himself. For a long time as a child, machines had been his only company. Idly, he wondered what had happened to that protocol droid he had been cobbling together out of spare parts. And there was no telling what a certain garrulous winged merchant named Watto might be up to. He wondered what the taciturn big-nosed bug was doing these days. He found himself shaking his head at the memory. If anyone was entitled to act a little strange now and again, it was Anakin Sky-walker. Who else could claim a greedy, oversized Toydarian as the nearest thing to a father figure?
Except for the absence of walls, there really wasn't much difference between retreating to the back of a machine shop and standing alone on an alien prairie, beneath an alien sky. One of Ansion's two moons was up and the other still rising, a pair of curved slivers glowing silver against a background of black velvet.
They were framed by a scattering of stars like diamonds. So many worlds, so many questions-with many of the latter focused upon the world on which he was presently standing.
Something rustled in the high grass. Glancing sharply in that direction, he saw nothing. As Barriss had told him prior to retiring, this planet was full of tiny, creeping night sounds. Entire communities of lesser local life lived out their lives below the crests of the waving wild grains without ever exposing themselves to sight or daylight. One could only wonder at what kind of havoc a stampede of lorqual would wreak on such hidden animal societies.
Probably not much, he told himself. Out here, in these wild open spaces, nature accommodated the needs of the small as well as the large. Tooqui's tribe was a good example of that. Plucky little soul, that Tooqui. Annoying and overly inquisitive, to be sure, but as bold as his boastings. Having been forced to live most of his life on boldness alone, Anakin greatly admired the quality in others.
An hour passed before he was again disturbed by rustling noises. Each day added another couple of previously unencoun- tered native species to his growing catalog of Ansionian life, but the register of nocturnal creatures was, for obvious reasons, considerably smaller. Having nothing else to do, he decided he might as well try to find out what was making the soft sounds in the grass. Whatever it was, it sounded conveniently close.
Turning to his left, he crouched slightly and began to move deeper into the tall prairie. The crackling noise came again, closer still. A small group of local animals, he concluded, busily gathering fallen grass seed under cover of night. It would be interesting to learn what they looked like. At least one of them sounded like it might be of fairly good size, perhaps even as big as Tooqui.
Surprised in midstalk, the shanh exploded from its place of concealment. It didn't growl. Like so many of Ansion's indigenous life-forms, it hissed. The hiss of a shanh was not like that of an intelligent Alwari, however, or some of the endearing creatures that roamed the vast open plains. It was a low, sinister blast of air-fury made audible.
Front and middle paws slammed into Anakin's chest, knocking him backward and down. In an instant, the shanh's heavy, fang-laden jaws would have been on his throat. There was no time to think, no time to decide what to do next, no time to ponder a best course of action.
As the shanh's jaws descended, Anakin rolled madly to his right. The predator's upper row of backward- curving, serrated teeth slammed into bare dirt instead of his neck. Furious, the lithe, muscular carnivore turned to face its prey, all six legs working, single nostril flared wide, convex red eyes floating like small livid moons against the dark mass of the brute's front shoulders.
Scuttling backward on hands and feet, Anakin tried to focus the Force while reaching urgently for his lightsaber. Drawing it from his belt, he activated the beam-and had it slapped from his right hand by one triclawed paw. Landing in nearby grass, the device struck on its control side-and switched off. That was what came, a small part of him reflected, of trying to do two things at once without knowing how. A true Jedi could do that. Painfully, he was once again made aware of how much he had yet to learn.
If he didn't do something quickly, his learning days would be at a premature end.
Weaponless, he rose slowly to his feet. Hissing expectantly, the shanh watched him without blinking. Unlike the Padawan, it was not constrained by a need to think. Muscles bunching tight beneath short, striped fur, maw agape, it leapt.
Shorn of his only physical weapon, Anakin fell back on what remained to him. Concentrating as he had never concentrated before, he threw one hand out in front of him, fingers splayed, and focused.
His command of the Force was not yet sufficient to allow him to knock the charging shanh backward, but it was strong enough to deflect the lethal leap to one side. As it flew past him, it struck out with front and middle claws. One set raked Anakin's shoulder as he threw himself out of the way. He did not cry out.
Blood streamed from his torn shoulder. The wound was painful and messy but not deep. Enraged and confused, the shanh landed on all sixes and immediately whirled to launch itself anew. As it did so, Anakin made a dive for his lightsaber. His fingers closing around the metal cylinder, lying on his stomach, he started to turn to face his furiously hissing adversary. The shanh was a big male; powerful, fast, and hungry. He knew he would only have time for one strike. But with the lightsaber, that should be enough.
As he started to turn, something landed hard on his right wrist, pinning it to the ground. Wincing at the pain, he looked up-to find himself staring straight into a second pair of brilliantly reflective red eyes. Not an arm-length away, they narrowed as they bored into his own. His heart dropped toward his diaphragm.
The shanh's mate had arrived to join the party.
An enormous weight landed on his back. Everything was happening too fast. Using the Force against the shanh had been one thing, but now there were two of them. If he tried to throw off the male now crouching on his
