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Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [76]

By Root 1072 0

She was on her own.

Apart from the actual, very real danger, it was a strange feeling. This was the first time she had been attacked by herself, not counting the abduction in the Cuipernam shop. Involving as it had nothing more threatening than a soporific mist, that had been a relatively benign assault. This was completely different. The howling, gesticulating creatures on the gully rim above her were doing their utmost to split her skull.

Wouldn’t they ever get tired? she wondered. The strain was beginning to tell. She felt herself growing dizzy from the effort. If they saw, or sensed, that she was weakening, they might redouble their efforts.

If she went down, it was entirely possible that nobody would find her. Words would have to be said over her demise in the absence of a body. Those she had known and studied with would grieve, wondering what had happened to her on distant, suddenly critical Ansion.

Just as she felt she was going to pass out from the strain, the barrage slowed, to finally cease altogether. Overhead, the assembled creatures turned from attacking her to jabbering excitedly at one another. Occasionally, one would point down at their intended target standing cornered below. At such moments she strove to project an air of complete confidence, even indifference. The pain in her head was beginning to fade. She saw one of her assailants shove another. A couple of fights broke out among the stone throwers—all long slapping fingers and angry tiny fists. Apparently, her assailants were a fractious bunch.

Hoping she remembered enough of the language course and still keeping a wary eye out for the odd hurled rock, she tilted her head back and addressed them forcefully.

“Listen to me!” Stunned debaters immediately ceased their arguing. Several dozen wide-eyed faces turned to look down at her. “There’s no need for us to fight. My friends and I mean you no harm. We’re not from this world, from Ansion. We’re humans, and we’d like to be friends. Understand? Friends.” Turning slightly, she pointed back the way she’d come.

“Two of my companions are Jedi Knights. I and one other are their Padawans, their apprentices. We also have two Alwari guides with us.”

She should have stopped with her own identification. At the mention of the guides, the assembled group resumed their leaping and howling—though not quite as vociferously as before, she noted. She struggled to keep up with the meanings of their overlapping cries.

“Hate Alwari!… Alwari bad, bad, bad!… No Alwari here!… Kill Alwari!… Alwari go away, away!…” A few picked up and brandished fresh stones.

She raised both hands. “Please, listen to me! The two Alwari who travel with us are not only from another part of this world, they’re clanless! They are completely under the control of myself and my friends and will not harm you. We just want to be friends!”

The flourished stones were not set aside—but they were lowered. Once more the creatures lining the rim resumed their internal bickering. If not for their uninhibited belligerence, they really were quite attractive, she decided, in the diversity of their full-body fur. Eventually the squabbling diminished, though it didn’t cease entirely. A gray-coated individual, clearly an elder, leaned over the rim of the crevice to peer down at her.

“You strange person, you is. What a ‘Jedi Knight’?”

“What a ‘human’?” exclaimed another, interrupting. Suddenly she was inundated by a volley not of stones, but of queries. Wrestling with her limited local vocabulary, she did her best to answer them all.

Meanwhile, the singular thief who had triggered the confrontation stood with his back facing the cleft’s dead end, still clutching his cumbersome spoils. “Haja—what about me? What about Tooqui?” He tried to raise one of the big foodpaks over his head but succeeded only in dropping it on his right foot. Now much more interested in asking questions of the tall stranger, his comrades ignored him. Putting down his burden, he began hopping about furiously, waving long-fingered fists at those gathered overhead.

“Listen to me! Talk

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