With the scouts riding well in advance of the group, Tarpals took up a rear position. Orrin had been with the Third Mounted Patrol for several seasons and had ridden point before. She was capable of guiding them all to Splitrock, named for its two jagged peaks. The small mountain was a distinctive landmark, rising above the low meadows and forests surrounding Otoh Gunga's swampland territory.
Riding at the rear of the group allowed Tarpals to observe the rest of the party, assessing how each individual rode, behaved, and reacted to what was going on around them. By early afternoon, he had privately come to share Herns's opinion of this group of Naaboo, although one could hardly blame the children for being ignorant. Nevertheless, he could see trouble looming in the days ahead.
Not a single one of the Naaboo seemed to have any idea how to care for themselves in the woods. All of them, even the adult, jumped at the slightest sound. Twice the human woman had asked the group to stop because one or more of the children needed to relieve themselves -- and they had no idea how to go about that either, he'd discovered. Finally one of the riders had gone into the woods and explained how to do it; she'd returned shaking her head and rolling her eyes. On top of it all, the human children were almost impossible to keep quiet, between making wailing sounds that grated on the Gungans' nerves and verbally reacting to everything around them.
In some respects, his own people weren't much better off. Tarpals knew there was a world of difference between being able to handle a weapon or maneuver a riding animal, and actually surviving in the wilderness, especially now that they were moving further away from the swamps through the forested woodlands. The majority of the Gungan people fished, cultivated their food in underwater or swampland gardens, or engaged in some sort of craft or trade. Thanks to years of military training and experience riding the patrol circuits, Tarpals and a few of the other riders were familiar with wilderness survival, but the rest of his people had only limited knowledge of how to forage in the woodlands.
Midway through the afternoon, the group accidentally flushed a pair of peko-pekos, large birds with bright blue feathers and heavy curved beaks. Several of the kaadu threw up their heads, startled, and the nearest falumpaset bellowed and shied away. The humans aboard, the older woman and her charges, nearly fell off, and one of the children shrieked.
As the older woman comforted and quieted the children, Tarpals frowned; aside from creating a general annoyance, the sounds were likely to alert anyone in the area to their presence. The one child finally calmed; a second clung to the woman, water running down her face from her eyes, but at least she was silent. Tarpals watched as Peskis urged his animal forward until he was riding along beside the falumpaset.
"Whosa this?" he asked the woman, indicating the weeping youngster.
"This is Zanté," the woman replied. Responding to her name, the girl looked up at the woman, then back at the Gungan.
"Hey-o, Zanté. Desan no needs to bein' frightened of the buhds," he told the child. The girl, wide-eyed, pressed against the woman and shivered. Peskis continued. "Yousa know what kinden buhds theysan are?"
The girl shook her head.
"Deysa peko-paykosa-avenss. Dis means 'blue-sky-flyer'," Peskis explained. He looked at the older female. "Yoursan people gotten name for dem?"
"We call them peko-pekos," the woman said.
"Soun' liken yousa gottens the name from ussan," Peskis remarked. He turned his attention back to Zanté. "Da 'peko-peko', deysa that color for a reason. Yousa ever heard dissen story?"
The girl looked up at the woman, then back at the Gungan, and shook her head again. "Well, when the gods first medd the world, deysa medd all'n the buhds the same colors," Peskis began. "Brown, an' grey an' tan. An' the peko-peko, shesa was the brown of the branches, an' the grey of the scrub brush. But shesa no liken dese colors.
" 'All'n the other buhds, deysa the same colors as my am,' shesa complained. 'Nobody gonna notice mesa.' She wanted to be different, so shesa stand out'n. So shesa begin looking 'round for somet'ing to mekk her different. Shesa tried singin', but hersa voice wuss a croak, an' the other buhds laughed at hersa. Den shesa tried flyin', seein' if'n shesa faster or stronger, but the goff, hesa faster an' stronger." Peskis stopped his story and pointed to the large feathers that decorated many of the riders' saddles. "Das one reason wesa use goff feathers --deysa symb'ls of strength."
Most of the human children, and both of the Gungan youngsters were focused on the storyteller. Zanté had stopped weeping.
"By now, the other buhds, deysa tired of the peko-peko tryin' to show off'n, and deysa hid whenever deysa saw hersa commin'. So the peko-peko, she decided to fly 'way and not come back. 'My will go up in the sky, an' live with the Sky God,' shesa said. 'Least'n there, my will stand out.' So shesa spread hersa wings an' flew 'way up inna the sky."
Peskis's hands fluttered in imitation of a bird's wings. "So shesa flew, an' flew, an' flew, 'til shesa reached the sky world. The Sky God, hesa see hersa commin'. Hesa sess, "'Peko-peko, my'm glad to you yousa. The buhds, deysa always welcome here. Yousa stay 'long as yousa want.' So the peko-peko stayed in the Sky Home for a while. But a strange t'ing started happ'nen; the blue of the sky started rubbin' off onna peko-peko. After a while, hersa feathers turned blue, liken the sky. The more she flew through the Sky Home, the bluer hersa feathers becommin'. At last, shesa became the color wesa seein' hersa h'as now.
"Then the peko-peko, shesa sess to the Sky God, 'My thanks yousa for lettin' mesa stay, but my wants to go home now.' So the Sky God gave hersa blessing, and shesa flew back to the forest.
"The other buhds, deysa no' recognize the peko-peko. 'What sort'n strange t'ing is that?' deysa ask. 'Why, my'm the peko-peko,' shesa tol' dem. When the other buhds saw hersa blue feathers, deysa became jealous an' angry. 'How come wesa no' got feathers like dat?' deysa asked. 'Yousa always t'inking yousa better than ussan. Go 'way!'
"The peko-peko flew up inna tree branches and cried. 'No one liken mesa,' shesa said. 'No one 'preciates mesa!' Den shesa looked down from hersa tree, an' saw a zalaaca creeping 'long the forest floor. The pred'tor, hesa followin' the little flittavenss, wantin' to ett him. The peko-peko, shesa forgot all 'bout herse'f and how the other buhds treatin' hersa. Shesa called to the flittavenss, 'Watch out! Yousa in danger!', but the flittavenss, hesa 'nored hersa. Shesa spread hersa wings and flew down outten the tree and in front of the zalaaca as hesa gotten ready to spring.
"The zalaaca, hesa s'prised by the bright blue feathers of the peko-peko, an' 'stead of springin' at the flittavenss, hesa jumped after the peko-peko. But hersa wings were strong after flying to an' from the Sky Home, and she flew into the forest. The zalaaca, hesa followed, leavin' the flittavenss safe. The peko-peko, shesa flew on 'til shesa led the zalaaca far 'way. Den shesa flew up inna tree and sat 'till the zalaaca went 'way, lookin' for 'nother meal.
"The flittavenss, hesa tol' all'n the other buhds 'bout what the peko-peko had done. The other birds 'pologized to hersa, and shesa was so glad at bein' 'cepted that shesa vol'nteered to given h'up hersa blue feathers. To hersa s'prise, the other buhds told hersa to kipp dem. 'Dat way, ever'one will remember yoursa kindness and courage,' dey sedd. If'n yousa see her, that means shesa protectin' yousa, by leadin' danger 'way. An' findin' hersa feathers is good luck."
The woman looked down at Zanté. "There, you see? The peko-peko birds only showed themselves to tell you you're safe." The girl sniffled, but remained calm. The woman turned to Peskis. "Thank you. Do the Gungans tell many stories like that?"
"Wesa gottens oursa fair share," Peskis answer pleasantly. "Iffen yousa like, my'll tell another one tonight when wesa camped." He nodded, slapped the reins against the kaadu's neck, and moved away.
In late afternoon, Tarpals called a halt for the day. He dispatched three Gungans to watch for any sign of pursuit or discovery by the maccaneeks, and set the rest of the command to putting together a camp.
"Peskis." The Ankuran straightened up at the sound of his name. "Pick out three or four others and see what food you can find."
"With pleasure, Captain." Peskis paused for a moment, watching as experienced patrol members moved off to take up the tasks of erecting shelters and caring for the small herd of kaadu and falumpasets. The humans were again clustered together, looking lost and nervous. The Gungan family members also stood off to one side, watching the activity.
Peskis nodded toward the Naaboo. "What do you think of them, sir?"
Tarpals clicked his teeth together, a Gungan sign of mild displeasure. "I think this is going to be a very long journey."
Peskis chuckled. "Now, Captain, you know the old saying: no good deed, no matter how small, goes--"
"Unpunished?" Tarpals remarked dryly. He noted that most of the command was avoiding the Naaboo, barely even glancing at them, with the exception of the Gungan family they had rescued.
"--Unrewarded," Peskis finished.
Tarpals eyed him critically. "We'll see about that. Before you leave camp, tell Jenais and Vlenka to open those bundles we're carrying and take stock when they get the chance. We'll keep what we can use, and bury the rest."
"Yes, sir." The Ankuran saluted and moved off on his errands.
The older human woman also scanned the clusters of activity around the area. Then she turned to her companions. "Stay with the children," she told the three teens. "I'll go see what their leader wants us to do." She gathered up her skirts and went in search of the lean grey-skinned Gungan who seemed to be the commander.
Like most of the humans on Naboo, the woman knew the basics of Gungan appearance – floppy ears, a long face, four fingers on the hand, lanky legs with broad round feet. But the commander looked different enough from the rest of his soldiers that she had no trouble recognizing him – his dark grey and brown leather uniform was of a completely different cut than anyone else's in the group, and his face bore a set of whiskery growths on the upper lip. She couldn't tell if the grey of his skin was his natural color or a result of advancing age.
"Excuse me -- sir?"
Tarpals sighed; the last thing he wanted to do was have a conversation with this Naaboo female. Rell Iss stepped protectively in front of his commander.
"Hesa busy."
"Rell Iss." Tarpals nodded in the direction of a relatively bare patch of ground. "It's all right. Go see about setting up places to sleep." The younger Gungan hesitated, then saluted smartly and turned away. Tarpals turned back to the human woman.
"I wanted to thank you for helping us," the woman began. "My name is Hela Brandes. I'm -- I serve as the Minister of Music for Queen Amidala." Brandes paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how to address you." Tarpals gave her a blank look. "What is your name? What -- what rank do you hold?"
Tarpals hesitated. The language the Naaboo called Bassic had a number of words in common with High Gungan, but there were many terms unique to High Gungan that wouldn't translate properly into Bassic. Tarpals's rank was one of those words; consisting of syllables that the Naaboo couldn't pronounce, his rank within the Gungan military was just below that of the highest officials but well above that of the apprentice soldiers. Tarpals's knowledge of Bassic included several military titles and their ranking in importance. He supposed that "Kippton", which apparently represented a mid-range rank, would be the closest and most understandable to the Naaboo.
"Mesa Kippton Tarpals," he told the woman finally. She looked puzzled.
"Captain Tarpals?" she echoed finally.
Close enough. "Yassah. Rep Heela Brand-ess." He inclined his head slightly.
"I'm sorry, but .... 'Rep'?"
"Iss'n small word for 'Repsanna'," Tarpals told her. "Iss'n title for advisors."
"Oh." She smiled. "Our societies have that much in common, at least." She plunged ahead. "Captain, like most of my people, I really don't know much about the Gungans, so I hope you'll pardon my ignorance. I'll try to learn as quickly as I can. And I'll try to answer any questions you might have about us."
Tarpals had spent most of his life in the military, first as a scout and soldier in the Third Mounted Patrol, and later as Patrol Chief in the capital city of Otoh Gunga. Because the Mounted Patrol members rode the circuit of outlying settlements surrounding Otoh Gunga, they were more likely than most Gungans to come in contact with the Naaboo. Tarpals had had several encounters with humans during his career; he had marginally more respect for human intelligence than many of his people, but only because he knew that the Naaboo, like most other living creatures, could be very dangerous under the right circumstances.
Because of the encounters, he also knew something about the humans' society. They were ruled by a monarch, they spent a great deal of time building sizable and complicated structures, and most of them considered the Gungans as primitive and backward savages. Since the Gungans had similar beliefs about the Naaboo, contact between the two races was minimal, except for the trading that took place on the fringes of both societies.
"So. Yousa Queen's advisor. What'n 'bout them?" He gestured back toward the encampment. "The sprattlings?"
He saw understanding dawn in her expression. "Oh. The children. Most of them are related to ministers and other government officials, except Zanté – I'm afraid I don't know anything about her family. The two oldest girls served as the Queen's handmaidens. The Neimoidians thought that by separating the children out and holding them prisoner in a secret location, they could force the government to turn over the Queen so she could sign an agreement to allow the invaders to legally occupy the planet."
"Thees'n N'moidians, theysan what yousa call'n the maccaneeks?"
"Macc--? Oh." Brandes shook her head. "No. The Neimoidians are flesh and blood, like both of us. They control the -- the droids. They use the droids to do most of their work for them. The Neimoidians run the Trade Federation, a very large and powerful group of merchants. The Federation wants to cut off our trade routes to protest taxes set by the Galactic Senate; the Federation chose our planet because we have almost no way to fight them. The Federation has demanded that we turn control of our planet over to them."
The Gungan mulled that one over for a few moments. "The Naaboo, theysa no spake for all'n ussan," he pointed out. "Wesa no wantin' theesan maccaneeks or theysa masters heah."
"The Queen refused to sign the agreement when the Neimoidians first offered," Brandes told him. "I don't know what happened after that -- I was removed from Theed, along with the rest of the Advisory Council. I think the only reason that I was included in this group is that the Neimoidians wanted someone to watch over the children."
"Yousa think the Queen will agree to thissen 'vasion now?"
Brandes shook her head. "I don't know. For one thing, she's disappeared off-planet, according to Yané and Saché, her handmaidens. They're the two older girls traveling with us. That would leave Governor Bibble and the Advisory Council in charge, but they won't sign any such agreement. Even if they did, it would still require the approval of Her Highness. As long as she's gone, the invasion remains illegal, and we have some hope that the Senate will intervene, if we can get word to them."
"Sssenate," Tarpals almost hissed the word.
"It's the governing body of the Republic. The Republic is a united government of many hundreds of thousands of planets."
Tarpals considered. His people knew that the Naaboo had come to this world nearly thirty generations ago from beyond the sky. There had been fighting and struggle, but in the end several small settlements had been started by the Naaboo. The Naaboo stayed mostly in the grasslands and mountainous areas of the planet, leaving the majority of the world to the Gungans, who made their homes in the swamps, lakes, and the coastal areas of the oceans.
Although they lacked the powerful farseeins and other scanning technology used by Naaboo scientists to study the stars, the Gungans had theorized the existence of other worlds before the coming of the humans; with so much life on their own world, how could there not be life on other worlds as well? The human colonists had proved the theories true. The knowledge that there were so many other worlds with so many other beings was, however, a more daunting idea.
"Thiss'n Ree-puplic, iss'n all made up of Naaboo?" Tarpals asked.
Brandes shook her head. "No. Many worlds have their own races, many of them intelligent like us. And most of them are very different from humans or Gungans."
Well, as interesting as all this might be, there was work to be done. Tarpals inclined his head again. "Rep Brand-ess, yousa need'n 'scuse mesa. My need to see how ever'one iss doin'. Mebbe wesa fin' time to talk on thiss'n later."
"Oh! That's what I originally wanted to ask you. What can we do to help? I know most of us don't know much about surviving in the woods, and the children are young, but surely there's something we can do to help."
The most helpful thing the Naaboo could do would be to stay quietly out of the way, Tarpals thought wryly. However.... He switched to Baasic. "Rell Iss." His aide looked up from spreading out the bedrolls. "Find Peskis. He's supposed to be foraging. See if he or one of the others can use some extra sets of hands." Rell Iss nodded and rose. Tarpals turned back to Brandes. "Wesa fin' some-att for yousan to do," he told her.
"Thank you, Captain. I hope we get a chance to talk again later." The woman moved away to rejoin her group.
A few minutes later, Brandes was explaining, "All right. The leader, who's called Captain Tarpals, will find us all something to do to help out. Now, I know this is difficult for everyone, but you've all been doing well so far. We need to keep this up until we get home, all right?" Brandes said as a heavy-set Gungan approached. He looked different from the rest of his people. He had the same floppy ears, four-fingered hands and powerful legs, but his build was much stockier, and he lacked the prominent eyestalks the rest of the Gungans sported; his face was much more frog-like. He was holding a double handful of items from the forest.
The Gungan nodded around at the group. "Insall ta-diraada. Thass oursan words for 'good evening'." He turned to Brandes. "The Captain, hesa sess yousa called 'Brand-ess'. Yousa h'advisor to the Naaboo Queen, yiss?"
"That's right."
Peskis smiled. "Rep Brand-ess, wesa goin' looking for food. Mebbe the sprattlings, theysa want to hepp?"
Brandes smiled. "'Sprattlings' is their word for 'children'," she told the group of humans. "Yes, I think everyone would like to help. Come here, all of you."
The little group clustered around Peskis hesitantly. He beckoned to the Gungan family to join them. "Fust off, less find out whosa h'ever'one iss. Mesa Lieut-en-ant Peskis. Mesa remember Zanté," he nodded to the dark-haired girl, "an' Rep Brand-ess. And diss'n....?"
"This is Melni Bibble," Brandes began, indicating the ten-year-old, brown-haired girl on her left, "and Edvic Terranz," she nodded to the thin, blond teen boy, who eyed the Gungan defiantly. Peskis offered him a wide smile with only a hint of teeth, and the youth back up a step. Brandes continued. "Yané," she indicated one of the teen-aged girls, "and Saché." Both girls smiled and nodded. "Arlan Hepell." Brandes pointed to the youngest human child, a boy of about six with red hair. "Nalla Eckener, and her brother Irric. They're twins." The two brown-haired children smiled, the girl a little uncertainly.
The Gungan laughed and clapped his hands on his knees. "Both'n dem from da semm h'egg, yousa mean? Dat's rare."
"For humans, too," Brandes said.
Peskis grinned broadly. "Wesa tekk dem as a good sign, den. Powerful lucky." Still smiling, he turned to the Gungan family. "An' yousan?"
The three adults exchanged glances. Finally one spoke in a female voice. "My'm Kimma Nril. Sen Tal, my fust essoan, an' Hanar, my secont essoan." Both males nodded, and Sen Tal grinned. Brandes nodded and smiled back. Both Kimma and Hanar were a muddy tan color, with brown markings on arms, neck, and head; Sen Tal was greener in complexion, with green-brown markings.
"An' yousan two?" Peskis asked the two Gungan children.
"Mesa Temmis," the older said. His hide was a light brown with barely visible rust-colored markings. "An' dissen Plirri. Hesa don' spikk much Bassic yet." Plirri looked up at the sound of his name and grinned broadly; his skin seemed to be all-over dark tan.
Peskis nodded. "Iss'n nice meetin' ever'one. Right now, wesa gottens work to do. Wesa needin' to find food for all'n ussan. Now, my am going to put yousa in groups of three, four. And yousa each going to looksee for these...." Peskis began holding up various leaves, roots, and other plant parts.
"I don't want to," Edvic muttered behind Brandes. The children closest to them turned to listen. Brandes sighed.
"You pay attention to Lieutenant Peskis. We'll be right back." She led Edvic away from the group. "Now, what's the problem?"
"I don't trust them," the teen replied. "How do we know they're not going to just lose us in the woods? I heard one of them complaining to the one in charge about us."
Brandes rubbed her forehead. "Edvic, listen to me. We have no choice. We have to trust them if we want to survive. None of us know how to find food or shelter or even our way to Tendesay."
"What if they're just keeping us around for food?" Edvic was glancing around him nervously. "I've heard -- I've heard Gungans sometimes eat people." At the expression of disbelief on Brandes's face, he added, "It would be easy, wouldn't it? They could take us out in the woods and kill us one at a time, and then just claim that the missing person was lost!"
"If they were going to do that, they could have just killed us back when they stopped the droid convoy." Her face hardened into a resolute expression. "They seem to be civilized beings. They've agreed to take us along, even though it would have been far easier to abandon us. None of them have tried to hurt us. And they seem concerned about the well being of the children. Now, the least we can do is try to earn our keep by helping, and if that means joining the search for food, that's what we'll do." As Edvic opened his mouth to protest, she added, "End of discussion. If you don't want to, fine. Go sit somewhere and stay out of trouble. But don't blame me if the Gungans don't feed you after you've refused to help."
As she rejoined the children, Orrin, the female Gungan who had been riding ahead that day, called to the three adolescent humans. "Hey, yousan! Some hepp heah, pleece."
Yané, Saché, and Edvic exchanged glances. Then Saché turned to the Gungan. "What do you want us to do?"
"Wesa mekkin' liddle shelters," Orrin said. "Needin' some h'extra hands." Both of the young women turned to Brandes, who nodded in support. "Go work with her. Edvic and I will stay with the youngsters." Yané and Saché began gathering the long, broad leaves that Orrin showed them.
Peskis led the rest of the group out into the woods, keeping within sight of the encampment clearing. He set some of the older children to digging for roots using sticks to move the dirt; others were gathering berries under the direction of one of the Gungan soldiers who seemed human-friendly. The two males and one female adult members of the Gungan family took turns hoisting children on their shoulders to pull nuts down from some of the trees -- an awkward task, given the floppy Gungan haillu, but several of the children agreed to the free rides. Finally one of the males suggested shaking the branches, and a shower of nuts had human and Gungan children alike scrambling for the morsels on the woodland floor.
Edvic turned over a large, flat rock, then almost dropped it at the sight of the pale grubs and other insects that began burrowing away from the sudden light. The boy kicked the stone back in place.
"Hey!" came a voice. "Yousa gonna etten dem?" One of the Gungan soldiers was peering at him.
Edvic stared at the Gungan. "No," he replied in a disgusted tone, lip curling in revulsion at the idea of eating grubs.
"Good. 'Scusa mesa." The Gungan crouched beside the stone and lifted it, then began gathering the grubs from the bare patch of ground. Edvic watched in disdain as the Gungan dropped the grubs into a carrying sack.
"You're not really going to eat those things, are you?"
"Coursen. Deysa pe'fectly good meat." The Gungan popped one into his mouth and chewed. The human almost gagged.
"I'm not eating anything with those in it," he declared.
The Gungan tilted his head. "H'okey. Dassen mekking more for the rest'n ussan."
