pronker

Part Forty-Five

"I could have hot-wired it, you know."

"I know. We never had to teach you that at Temple."

"The old spacer pilot taught me how. The one who told me about the angels on Iego's moons."

There were no angels on the moons of Iego. There were some very odd beings living on the moons, but nothing like Anakin envisioned when he said the word 'angel.' Obi-Wan, Yoda and his other teachers never told him that there weren't his imagined angels there, wanting to leave him some comforting beliefs in his transitional period. Years passed. At age sixteen, some snip of a Padawan whom Obi-Wan had never liked teased Anakin about his beliefs. Anakin had investigated, found out his 'angels' were mostly malicious and wholly strange, and was miffed at Obi-Wan for one full week for not telling him sooner.

"It was a harmless omission, Anakin. You needed comforting. Sleeping with me until you were twelve told me that. Master Yoda agreed to the deception, since he didn't send you to live in Initiates' Hall."

"I feel foolish, Master."

"Time will lessen that. Time is to blame for many things, but easing mental or physical pain is not one of them. We simply forgot about it as you got older. After all, we're not infallible."

Anakin knew that. Anakin at sixteen was quite withdrawn, though, and could only scowl and splutter internally. All his friends were tactful about it. Only Tru made mention of the incident. "She's a twit, Anakin. Pay her no mind." Anakin hoped that Tru was on the road to recovery by now as he strolled with Obi-Wan to their inn. The glowglobes overhead attracted as many flitterbugs as possible, as well as a humming species of moth. They encountered only three pedestrians on their way back. Two were a Besalisk couple, rare offplanet visitors toting a large wicker basket as they peered into shop windows. Anakin assumed the basket held the couple's family, about to hatch. On a street like this on Coruscant, ethnic diversity would have been the norm; here on Nepsa, it was the exception. He wondered what growing up here would be like.

"It would make you provincial, Anakin. You would be the wide-eyed moisture farmer in a place like Coruscant."

"Yes, I guess I wo---did I ask that out loud?"

"Didn't you?"

"I, I suppose that I did. Huh. Daydreaming. Sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Nerve strain will do that to you." He would have enjoyed a Togorian Terrorizer right now himself, but nothing like that awaited him at their swiftly-approaching inn.

Yeah, Tru's probably better, Anakin consoled himself. Master Ry-Gaul would soon be with him. Masters made Padawans feel better. That was part of their job.

Anakin glanced at his own Master. Under Trow's weak double-moonlight and soft glowglobe's illumination, Obi-Wan's hair resembled the velvety nap in Senator Organa's dress cloak. At least Anakin assumed it was his dress cloak. It was the one that he wore to every Senatorial meeting and social function that Anakin had also attended and it could have been his everyday cloak for all Anakin knew. He wanted to pet the hair, rub it against the grain, do other things with it. How can I start things up with Master? He's thinking about the mission as he always does. Well, maybe not always anymore. Last night's activities flooded his mind and his groin. Down, groin, Anakin chastised it.

They heard the commotion before they rounded the last turn. Many more people than staying there circulated outside the inn, an actual crowd. After dark? In Nepsa? Could demonstrators have found them? Even if they were on the Reps side and not the Seps side, it was a complication. Obi-Wan and Anakin slipped through the throng with Jedi efficiency, looking for the pimply-faced clerk/maitre d' to ask about the brouhaha, when they spotted Kuki slumped at a windowside table, looking weary. Together at a central table sat Strenghis, his Cabinet, and Trokas Qikal.

Obi-Wan wondered what had gone wrong.

The river muttered.

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Part Forty-Six

"Nothing's wrong, Master. It's just the opposite. Or it will be soon," Anakin said blithely. He scanned the crowd, spotting about thirty Congressmembers and their cobbler in the press.

Did I say that out loud? Or did he guess I was thinking it because he knows me so well? "Ooookaaayy." Obi-Wan took a moment to get his bearings. "Mr. President, Cabinetmembers." He bowed to Leader Qikal. "We're surprised to see you together. You must have traveled nonstop to make it here so soon." So that's why Kuki is exhausted. Traveling back and forth from Upper-Cremba-on-Gitchy to Nepsa three times in as many days used all her reserves of strength. Couldn't drums communicate as well? Probably not. Subtleties would be lost in all the thumping.

Qikal gathered to himself the dignity of his office. "Master Jedi. Young Jedi. My advisor" --- he nodded at Kuki, who managed to nod back --- "and I consulted upon her return. We consider you fellow tribesmen, and once I explained it to her fully, she and I stand in agreement with President Strenghis' plan for neutrality, with some modifications, now and forever. As you two are naturalized citizens of Upper-Cremba-on-Gitchy, however, I am your advocate and will mediate any disagreement between my superior and you. I bring appropriate dress for you both." He indicated two folded stacks of cloth on the table in front of him, formal lavalavas with at least a meter's more length of material than the simple ones of the late Dunri that they had donned in Kuki's home.

Obi-Wan addressed Strenghis only. "You agree to this mediation?" If it will help this mission, I will wear nothing but nutrient paste.

Strenghis obviously did not believe in closed-door negotiations all the time. "I am agreeable to settling this issue tonight. I've debated with Congress all afternoon and when Qikal arrived a short time ago with this proposal, I told Congress to meet me here when they could. Some have family obligations, you know, but will show up later, I'm sure."

After they have dinner, make sure the children are down for the night, bed down the aloas with some liana-straw ... It was small-town thinking, transferred to small-planet circumstances. Anakin couldn't stand it. "Start this right now?" he asked.

"Yes. I've been mulling the situation over for a year. I'll decide tonight. Trokas has brought the Mother's point of view home to me," Strenghis gravely added, and the crowd stilled reverently at Her name. "Let's begin."

We're in litigation, sort of, and must dress respectably, but how do you tie this thing? Obi-Wan peeked out the door of the downstairs 'fresher, and gestured to the pimply-faced desk clerk who doubled as a maitre'-d. He augmented his whisper with the Force to penetrate the din. The youth jerked his head up from directing his staff at the "Pssst!" and came promptly to the cracked-open door.

"Help us with this?" Obi-Wan clutched the wad of flowered material about his waist, feeling that he was going to appear ridiculous wearing boots underneath it. The utility belt with lightsaber dangling from it would add even more ammunition for jollity. With the crowd growing more excited by the minute at the momentousness of the evening, he and Anakin might even be laughed at. Not good.

"The belt has to go, gentlemen," said the teen. "I'll help you fold carrying pockets like we all have." With five minutes' worth of dextrous twining and tucking, Anakin and Obi-Wan stood bare to the waist, a calf-length lavalava girdling each of them. The ingenious garment had a front carrying fold as well as a back one. The Jedi put the lightsaber bulge in the back fold to avoid comment.

The door opened as their cobbler poked his head in. "Here," he said gruffly in Basic. "Had 'em all ready for tomorrow morning early, like you asked. Might as well give 'em to you now." He thrust two pairs of sandals at them and shut the door. Their ensembles complete, the Jedi braved the gathering.

"Trokas, let everyone hear what these Jedi have done." Strenghis couldn't have gotten more dour since the last time Obi-Wan had seen him. It only looked that way. The worries that the Mother couldn't soothe and in fact added to showed in his unquiet hands as he rubbed his thinning temples.

Obi-Wan's and Anakin's mutual tidal waves of dismay crashed in the middle of their bond. The backlash made them gasp. Strenghis looked alarmed and gestured that they pull up some chairs and sit informally at his crowded table. They sat elbow-to-elbow as straight as they could on the finely-crafted rattan chairs.

"Mr. President, esteemed Congress, and good citizens all, let me begin by praising their conduct on our sacred Festival Night. Their response to our customs overwhelms me. We had some personal disharmony" --- here he may have sighed in regret, glancing sideways at Anakin --- "and not all was as usual" --- Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair from his upright posture, it was going to be all right, beyond all hope --- "but they honored the Mother when on the Mother's territory, and that is what counts. They honored Her spectacularly." Obi-Wan stared fixedly ahead.

"So they have a sense of propriety, well and good. And we have witnessed them doing incredible things with their power. Can they offer us force pikes, or something more powerful, or give us artillery to defend ourselves? What if their clone army, and what is a clone, exactly, is busy elsewhere? Your testimony, Trokas, makes me feel akin to them and their Republic and we certainly do not want to end up as puddles like the misbegotten Gungans" --- so the vid did make some impression, thank you, Mace of the Windu, Obi-Wan thought --- "but I need some hard assurances. What can you tell me, Master Jedi?"

So it's on to Stuff and can we offer more Stuff than the Separatists can. Mother.

The river overflowed.

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Part Forty-Seven

From respect, Anakin ignored the orange tinge of mold near Leader Qikal's right earlobe. This man of faith, this leader of a small village and it environs, was the lynchpin of the proposed alliance between Trow and the Republic. Anakin would make no faces, he would keep eyes front. He let Master speak. He was ready to step in and assist, however. They had come a long journey down Gitchy to this cataract and he wasn't about to jump ship now. He listened as hard as he had ever listened to anything in his life, including his wedding vows. Perhaps Obi-Wan's only need was to be needed, as Master Ry-Gaul said, but anyone could use a helping hand now and then. Even strong Masters.

To Anakin's surprise, Obi-Wan ordered a fizzy juice drink, saying nothing until it arrived after a lengthy preparation. He sipped it. He savored it. He waited until the room quietened before saying, "Mmmmm. Delicious. I may give up alcohol for these. My compliments to the barrista."

Way to dramatize, Master. You've got their attention now.

"Mr. President, as it stands, you want your world to change and you want it to be safely neutral while that happens. You want arms to ensure that safety." Obi-Wan put down his drink and folded his arms.

Strenghis nodded slowly. "A basic summary, yes. It may interest you to know that I didn't mention wanting to keep neutral with the Separatist envoys who left a few days ago for some terrible-sounding place called Jibbum."

Never heard of it. Onward. "And after the war ends, whenever that may be, you will not join the victor, but stay neutral."

"Correct."

"I am authorized to pledge that your neutrality would be respected during the war and after. Will the Separatists make that pledge?"

Qikal broke in. "Strenghis, my friend, the Separatists offer weapons that I have used to stun fish and goad an aloas or two, but they haven't offered us any weapons training to go along with them. These Jedi, who could have broken free of Upper-Cremba-on-Gitchy at any time, honored the Mother unreservedly. We keep true to Trow if we bend with Gitchy's flow a small bit and join with them." He rubbed his knee as if it ached from travel.

Obi-Wan played Ry-Gaul's statement holo as an embellishment. Old Grunbi's concerns about his world, added to Ry-Gaul's commentary, made some in the crowd regard their President doubtfully. He kept looking thoughtfully at Obi-Wan. By now nearly all the Congressmembers were present, some listening at the double doors if they couldn't set foot inside.

Obi-Wan sucked his teeth. "So. The Republic wants a base. We offer a well-trained army, a SoroSuub V-35 Courier, slightly used, training staff for your populace to learn to read Basic, a generous commitment of at least two years."

And a mentoring program for those who wish to emigrate from Trow, Anakin said to himself.

"I also offer a transfer system for all Nepsans or anyone from Trow's less populated areas to study in and/or visit Coruscant, all expenses subsidized." Obi-Wan saw their maid/server's eyes light up, and also the maitre-d's.

Anakin froze his expression. I only thought that. I'm sure that I did this time. What's going on? He hoisted Obi-Wan's tumbler to get the last of Obi-Wan's fizzy drink and to quiet his shaking hands. The drink was flat now.

Qikal leaned in. "My old friend, hear me. Our plan can stay the same, the national service, my upgraded role in the government, for after the war, at least. For this war's duration, I believe the Republic is the way to go. We won't be subsumed by any entity whose representatives can honor the Mother like they can."

"And another twenty thousand glowglobes," Obi-Wan added, flushing from the stuffiness of the closely-packed room.

"You see? They offer lights as an inducement. They are near the Mother's heart whether they know it or not." Qikal craned his neck to see Kuki, who made a tight nod of approval.

A long pause. "Very well then. You have persuaded me. Trow shall join the Republic." In the unrestrained cheers that erupted afterwards, Obi-Wan and Anakin found no need to use their bond at all to communicate.

The river danced.

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