Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [73]
Standing nearby, Anakin had listened in silence to the Jedi’s discussion. Master Obi-Wan was right, he knew. Put something to the Senate, and nothing would ever be accomplished. That was what the Jedi were best at, he decided: getting things done without having to worry about the approval of the endlessly garrulous, nonsensical debate of the Senate. Give him a clean lightsaber over obfuscating words any day.
He moved slightly away from the others, leaning up against the wall of the overhang, and gazed disinterestedly out at the lethal plants that were still bounding past. There were fewer of them now. He and his companions should be able to move soon. Observing his isolation, Barriss moved to intrude upon it.
“You don’t find wind-propelled carnivorous poison plants of interest? Not many would be so quickly bored with otherworldly wonders, Anakin.”
He looked over at her. “It’s not that, Barriss. I have other things on my mind.” Straightening, he stood away from the wall. “I guess I’m just impatient to get this assignment over with.” He nodded in the direction of the gully. “For example, if we had a landspeeder, we wouldn’t have to worry about things like these chawix. The kyren, maybe, but not chawix.” One hand moved to his lower back. “And my butt wouldn’t hurt so much.”
She smothered a smile. “Your saddle doesn’t fit you?”
“Very little on this world fits me. I wish I was elsewhere.”
“Strange world that, Elsewhere. I’ve heard a lot about it.”
His expression changed. “Now you’re making fun of me.”
“No, I’m not,” she insisted, though her tone and expression were ambivalent. “It’s just that sometimes I think you’re a little too self-centered to be a Jedi. A little too focused on what’s good for and essential to Anakin Skywalker, as opposed to what’s important to your colleagues and to the Republic.”
“ ‘The Republic.’ ” He gestured toward where the two older Jedi were conversing with their guides. “You should hear Master Obi-Wan talk about the Republic, sometimes. About what’s happening to it, what’s going on in the government.”
“You mean the talk of a secessionist movement?”
“That—and other things. Don’t misunderstand. Master Obi-Wan is a true Jedi. Anyone can see that. He believes in everything the Jedi stand for and everything they do. The way I see it, that’s very different from believing in the current government.”
“Governments are always changing. They’re a mutable organism.” While she spoke, she continued to look on in fascination as the chawix slowly consumed the last of the unfortunate membibi. “And like any living thing, they are always growing and maturing.”
“Or like any living thing, they die and are replaced. Believing in the Republic isn’t the same as believing in the Senate.”
“Ah—that overstuffed hothouse full of declamatory blowhards!”
He looked at her in sudden surprise. “I thought you disagreed with me.”
“About the Republic and what it stands for? Yes. About the Senate, that’s something else again. But politicians are not Jedi, Anakin, and Jedi are not politicians. It’s the Council we report to, it’s their directives that lead us, and unless that changes, I’m afraid I can’t share your overweening cynicism regarding the state of the Republic.”
“Your upbringing was different from mine. You haven’t seen the things I have.” He looked down at her. “You don’t feel the kind of loss I do.”
“No, that’s true,” she readily admitted. “I don’t.” Her tone softened from argumentative to curious. “What’s it like, to know your mother? To grow up with one?”
He brushed past her, moving to rejoin the others. “It’s a feeling of loss that’s hard to describe. Just know that it hurts. You’re better off without that hurt, Barriss. Nothing personal, but it’s kind of private.