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Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [96]

By Root 985 0
lorqual combined to create an agonized cacophony the likes of which had not been heard on that section of prairie in some time. No single shot, not even one from a modern pistol, could bring down a rampaging, panicky lorqual. But several such shots could wound severely, and more could force one of the great beasts to change direction in the hope of avoiding further injury. As the Qulun dashed back and forth in front of them, firing selectively and making as much noise as they could, the stampede began to slow, the lorqual’s jittery conviction to unravel. Without breaking stride, several of the great beasts angled away from the stinging riders who had appeared in front of them, changing course slightly to the west. Others broke clear of the herd to thunder a little more to the east. Split down the middle, the bulk of the herd rumbled off to either side of the encampment.

But a number of lorqual, hysterical beyond feeling the shots the Qulun riders aimed at them, continued to plunge blindly forward. Two were brought down by multiple bursts from the Qulun’s prized imported laser weapons. Two more were not, and in seconds found themselves in among the campsite.

Gigantic six-toed feet trampled trade goods and outbuildings, fracturing lightweight composite walls and sending those huddled within fleeing screaming into the rain-swept night. Great horned heads swung from side to side, tossing Qulun and animals flying. Crazed by dread, driven by lightning, and bleeding from gunshots, the lorqual smashed their way through the fractured, splintering, increasingly chaotic camp.

There were no longer any guards outside the visitors’ transport. Like the rest of the clan, they had rushed to the assistance of their friends and families, desperate to save lives and livelihoods. Scrambling up the front of the transport, a dripping-wet Tooqui let himself inside. Within, sitting up and struggling with their bonds, were his friends; to all outward appearances they were still safe and unharmed. That much he had expected. All Qulun traders worthy of the clan name would do their best to ensure that their goods were not damaged.

Searching for something stronger than bare fingers to work with, he found the strange offworlder equipment neatly stacked and labeled in an unlocked storage case near the front of the transport. Reaching first for one of the lightsabers, he thought better of it and settled instead for a small, versatile Alwari blade that belonged to Bulgan. A knife, he knew how to use. Small but strong hands went to work on Barriss’s bonds. When the Padawan’s hood was pulled off and she saw who had come to rescue them, she hardly knew what to say. Which was just as well, since she remained gagged while Tooqui started in on her wrists and ankles.

“Tooqui tell truth.” The Gwurran jabbered away nonstop as he worked. “Tooqui bravest of his people. The strongest, the fiercest, the wisest—”

“The most talkative,” Barriss interrupted him when she could finally remove the gag. Freed, she found that she was unable to move. Days of tight bondage had left her muscles cramped, the nerves tingling. Jedi schooling helped her restore her circulation far more rapidly than an untrained prisoner would have been able to manage. The busy Tooqui told her where their gear was stored. With two of them working together, they soon had Obi-Wan, Luminara, and Anakin untied.

Something slammed into the left side of the transport and nearly knocked it over on its side. Rising above wind and rain, a stentorian moaning reached them from outside. It was accompanied by the ragged shouts of thoroughly unnerved Qulun.

“What was that?” Anakin demanded to know as he rubbed circulation back into his legs. Even more than his lightsaber, he wanted to feel a certain Qulun chieftain’s thick neck under his fingers. Obi-Wan would not approve of such thoughts, but there were times when Anakin was more than a little tempted to set aside the teachings of his Master. Now was one of them. Just give him the chance to throttle that fat sack of duplicity Baiuntu, and he would happily

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