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Gibes turned to cheers. Shu Mai nodded complacently. She was used to such approbation, and anticipated receiving more of it in the future. A great deal more.

Meanwhile, she and Senator Mousul had much to do. The obstinate Tam Uliss had all but guaranteed it.

It was hard to believe after all they had gone through that the moment, if not of truth, then at least of debating it, had finally come. Though their clothing was made to repel dirt and grime, it had not been designed to cope with days of hard riding on the back of a giant suubatar, not to mention everything else they had experienced.

Nonetheless, with the help of Bayaar and others of the clan, the four offworlders managed to render themselves reasonably presentable. When the time came to go before the Borokii Council of Elders, Luminara was convinced they presented as imposing a portrait of roaming Jedi as circumstances would permit.

Decorated with pennants, intricate weavings, and imported hangings of worked metal and composite, the meetinghouse of the Borokii sat off by itself awaiting their presence. The elders were already inside, waiting to hear what the visitors who had successfully shorn the fur of the white surepp had to say. Though honor guards drawn from the best fighters of the clan flanked the entrance, they kept their weapons sheathed. After the extraordinary display of skill the night before, not even the bravest among them had any desire to challenge the strangers’ remarkable, lightning-fast reflexes.

Pausing outside the entrance, Luminara turned to their guides. “You three will have to wait out here. You don’t represent the Republic Senate, and we can’t risk any distractions during the meeting.”

Kyakhta and Bulgan indicated understanding. The Gwurran understood also, but that didn’t keep him from objecting.

“Tooqui no distraction! Tooqui keep quiet, say say nothing, mouth become like closed cleft in rock, speak no words unless asked, can be as quiet as a—”

Reaching out and down, she put a forefinger against the upper edge of his lipless mouth. “I know you can, Tooqui. But this is our mission, and our time. We’ll tell you all about it when we come out.”

The Gwurran folded his furry arms across his chest and sniffed, his single wide nostril rising slightly. “Humans no need blabbermouth Tooqui when come out. Human squinchy-faces easy to read as gogomar entrails!”

“Hear that?” Anakin murmured to an expectant Barriss. “You’ve got a face like gogomar guts.”

“Thanks,” she replied flatly as they turned to enter the temporary structure. “You’re no prince of the realm yourself.”

It was meant as a returning jest, but as she stepped past him it was just as well she did not see the look that came over his face.

The council consisted of twelve elders of both sexes. They sat on a semicircle of slightly raised, carpeted divans facing the entrance. With a few exceptions, every mane in the room was either white or gray, though some showed striking black spots or stripes. As the offworlders arrived, one particularly aged Borokii raised a hand in greeting, all three fingers spread wide.

“We welcome you to this council of the overclan, and will listen to whatever you have to say. Questions will be asked. It is to be hoped that answers will be imparted.”

It was that simple, that straightforward. Obi-Wan made the presentation, repeating what they had already told the Yiwa, the Qulun, and the Gwurran, explaining why they had come to Ansion and why it was so important that the Alwari reach agreement with the Senate’s proposal. Telling them that not only the future of Ansion depended on what they decided here today, but perhaps that of the Republic as well. There was no need for embellishment or fancy oratory. That was not the Jedi way, in any case. Such trimmings and flourishes were the province of professional diplomats. Though Obi-Wan was a fine speaker, he disliked superfluities.

When he was finished, he stepped back and took a seat next to Luminara on a settee provided for the purpose. As befitted their status,