Late afternoon sun
filtered through the leaves as Tarpals made his way to his meeting with the
Governors and command staff.
Otoh Gunga's shrine, filled with shallow pools and hillocks, covered an area
as large as the city itself. Mysterious stones, carved in the likeness of
enormous faces, reared up out of the pools and ground. Around, and sometimes
upon, these stones grew slender trees with their broad, flat leaves, as well as
thin reeds and grasses. The leaf canopy overhead allowed only intermittent rays
of sunlight through – this was one place that was safe from the maccaneeks'
spy equipment, at least for now. The humid air was full of the sounds of
wildlife and the scents of dozens of plants.
The Governors had set up a place in the center of the shrine, a hilly circle
surrounded by the statuary. The area was full of the Governors and their Rep
Councilors, Generals and their staff members, and some of the more prominent
Clan representatives. Tarpals grimaced inwardly; he'd made plenty of public
presentations before, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Nevertheless.....
Rugor Nass, Governor of Otoh Gunga and head of the Governors' Council, sat
cross-legged on the ground before a partially buried statue. Beside him sat Rep
Jidra Teers, Chief Engineer of Otoh Gungan, and Rep Ivor Been, Keeper of
Records; behind them sat or stood the rest of the Rep Council. Ceel and a dozen
of the army's Generals stood off to the left; Governor Ossa Krenard of Otoh
Dinistallis, the largest of the ocean cities, sat with the rest of the Governors
on the right. Behind Tarpals, completing the circle, sat a group of Shrine
Keepers, the spiritual guardians and advisors of the Gungans.
Ceel stepped down from his place in the circle. "Honorable Governors,
Advisors, Generals, and others, the remainder of the Third Mounted Patrol of
Otoh Gunga has at last found its way to our Sacred Place. They have survived a
difficult journey, and we are both relieved and gratified by their safe arrival.
Captain Roos Tarpals, their commanding officer, is here to present his report of
their travels."
"Thank you, General," Tarpals said gravely, and launched into a description
of his Patrol's activities. The group was silent through his account of the
battle of Lake Paonga and the attack on the maccaneek transport. At
Tarpals's report of finding the Naaboo children and agreeing to escort
them to Tendesay, many of the group members gasped, and murmurs of conversation
ran along the circle. Tarpals continued with his account, describing the
disagreements, struggles, adventures, training sessions, and the final battle
outside the Naaboo town of Tendesay. By the time the narrative was done,
most of the Governors, and no few of the Generals, were staring at Tarpals
open-mouthed.
"The remaining free Naaboo have asked for our help," Tarpals
concluded. "Their ability to fight these maccaneeks is limited. I have
left two of our people behind to train them, but they will need much more. I
promised to relay their request to our leaders." He inclined his head
slightly, signaling that his report was finished.
"Who is in charge of the Naaboo?" asked one of the generals.
"Sah-gent Barr-en-dar appears to be the highest ranking officer in their
security force. Except for Rep Brand-ess, the rest of their leadership is
scattered – their Queen has fled the planet, and most of their civilian
authorities seem to be prisoners. The group at Tendesay was rather small,
although I don't believe it was the whole of their forces."
"Thank you, Captain," Ceel said. "However, while you've been on your way
here, we have been scouting the situation with the maccaneek army. The maccaneeks
seem to be concentrating their efforts on the Naaboo territory; after
their initial strike at our cities, they have left us alone. If you what you say
is true, this is partly because we are under cover and therefore cannot be seen
by their sky farseeins. We are safe enough for the present as long as we
stay under the shelter of the trees." Ceel turned to address the circle as a
whole. "As you know, members of the different settlements have been arriving
here at the Sacred Place daily – I dare say that most of us have assembled at
last. The rest of the Generals and I have been planning a series of hit and run
strategies, meant to harry and confuse the maccaneeks. With our civilians
hidden deep in the swamps, we can move companies of soldiers and riders to the
edges of our borders and strike at the maccaneeks." He paused; many of
the Governors and Generals were nodding in agreement.
"And the Naaboo?" Tarpals asked.
Ceel tilted his head back and to one side. "I don't believe we have any need
to involve the Naaboo in any of our strikes."
"The maccaneek army is here because of the Naaboo,"
rumbled Nass, leaning forward and peering down at Tarpals. "Let the Naaboo
see what it is liked to be pushed out of their homes by invaders, the way our
ancestors were when the Naaboo first came to this world." Most of the
Governors nodded or murmured in agreement.
"And what of the Naaboo sprattlings?" asked Tarpals. "What have
these young ones done to deserve imprisonment and starvation?"
"Perhaps their parents should have thought of that before they brought this
army of invaders down on us," one of the Governors grumbled. "Our own
children have experienced hunger and deprivation. We have to care for them
first."
"We don't have the resources for both our own people and the Naaboo,"
commented one of Nass's advisors. "This many people in our Sacred Place is
straining our food supplies; our hunters and gatherers are constantly searching
for edibles. This shrine isn't equipped to hold this many people for more than
a few days, even with citizens from other settlements bringing food and
materials with them as they arrive."
"We owe our efforts to our own people first," Ceel agreed.
I need Treece here for this, Tarpals thought. The Shrine Keeper from
Tanoh Matawba had a knack for convincing people, generally through negotiation,
although she had been known to use a well-place slap from time to time.
He caught Rep Teer's eye; the engineer had been on the Governor's Council
for many years, and had frequently been an ally in Tarpals's disagreements
with Nass in the past. At the moment, Teers was regarding Tarpals with an amused
look on her face that quickly faded to thoughtfulness. "Esteemed Shrine
Keepers, Governors and Generals, may I suggest that we continue to gather our
people together and allow the Generals to complete their battle plans? Once they
have finished, perhaps we can meet again to discuss the idea of involving the Naaboo
further. In the meantime, let us reassure our people that we are doing
everything we can to return them to their homes and ways of life as quickly as
possible."
After a few more minutes of discussion, the Governors agreed, and the group
began to disperse. Tarpals made a point of approaching Teers. "Thank you,
Repsanna."
The female cocked her head and smiled at him. "Will wonders never cease? I
never thought I'd see the day that Roos Tarpals advocated dealing with the Naaboo,"
she remarked dryly. "That in itself would have been enough to convince me to
intercede for you." She slid one hand into the curve of his elbow. "Come,
you can tell me more about these sprattlings and their guardians on our
way back to your command. I don't think I've ever heard such a detailed
report on the Naaboo – at least, not from anyone as reputable as you
are....."
~*~*~*~*~
Three days later, Tarpals found himself staring down at a small Naaboo
female with a white face, surrounded by a nervous gaggle of attendants, and
wondered if this meeting was what the gods had intended all along. If so, the
Gungan was unimpressed.
"I am Queen Amidala, of the Naboo," the female intoned, craning her neck to
stare back up at him. "I wish to meet with your leaders to discuss the
invaders and how to rid our world of them."
I daresay you do, Tarpals thought sourly. So, you are the so-called
"leader" who fled the planet while your people starved and your children
watched their parents die in captivity. After lifetimes of ignoring us, now you
want to talk.
"I believe we have a plan that will force the droid army and its masters to
relinquish – to give up their hold on Naboo, and free both our peoples."
I know what 'relinquish' means, the Gungan captain thought as he
glanced sideways at Ven Artil, then back at the Queen. And this world's
name isn't 'Naboo'. You're an arrogant lot, all of you, and if it
weren't for the small group of your people we left in Tendesay, I'd truss up
the lot of you and leave you in the grasslands for the maccaneeks to
find. But your offspring deserve better than that. He leaned forward in the
saddle. And you did return, after all. I suppose that says something for your
courage, at least.
A single Gungan had led the group of humans through the mist to the outskirts of
the Sacred Place – a Gungan that many of the Third Mounted Patrol's members
had no desire to ever see again. Jar Jar Binks lowered his eyestalks sheepishly
and said in Bassic, "Heddoe, Captain Tarpals."
"Binks. Gods help us," one of the other riders muttered out of earshot. "I
thought we'd seen the last of him."
"Of course not," Artil muttered. "Binks is like a fungal-rash; it's
embarrassing, annoying, and never completely goes away. The best you can hope
for is that it will go into remission."
"Enough," Tarpals said wearily. He turned to Jar Jar and continued in High
Gungan. "Why did you bring them here, Jar Jar? Even if the Naaboo were
welcome here, which they're not, you know what the Governor will do to you
when he sees you. "
Jar Jar glanced from one rider to another, his haillu lowered and his
neck retracted to the point where his head almost rested on his shoulders – a
Gungan gesture of submission. "The Queen thinks she has a way to get rid of
the maccaneeks," he replied tentatively. "She says that by working
together, we can beat their army. But she needed to talk to the Governors. I –
I knew this was where everyone would be." He grinned weakly. "I thought we
should at least hear her plan."
Artil snorted. "Thinking isn't exactly one of Binks's strengths, is it?"
he muttered to Tarpals. The Captain silently studied first Binks, then the
Queen's companions. Most of them were trying to look harmless, except for one
dark-skinned male who was gazing around at the Patrol members with a watchful
eye and an almost defiant expression. Tarpals indicated him to Artil with a jerk
of his head.
"Look at that one – he seems to be the only warrior in the herd," Tarpals
remarked. "He reminds me of the Naaboo we met in Tendesay. I'd say
he's sizing us up, wouldn't you?"
"He doesn't seem to like the looks of us, does he? Either that or he's
just swallowed something very sour," Artil observed. "Well, at least one of
them seems to have a backbone. Are we really going to take them to Nass and the
Governors' Council?"
Tarpals straightened in the saddle. "The Naaboo we traveled with knew
about the maccaneeks. If it hadn't been for them, I doubt any of us
would have arrived here safely. This Queen may indeed have a plan that will help
us. We'll escort them to at least the edge of the Sacred Place, and let Nass
decide what to do with them from there." With a couple of hand gestures, he
instructed the patrol to surround the Naaboo. The expression on Artil's
face suggested that he thought this action to be a mistake, but he remained
silent. With a last scowl at Jar Jar Binks, he turned his kaadu in the
direction of the Sacred Place.
"Wesa tekken yousan to the Bosses," Tarpals told the Naaboo Queen and
her party. "Theysan decide to do with yousan." To Jar Jar, he added in High
Gungan, "I'm afraid you're going to regret this, Jar Jar."
"So are the rest of us," Artil muttered, careful to pitch his voice low
enough so his captain couldn't hear him.
~*~*~*~
"I don't believe it," Ven Artil gasped. "Nass agreed to work with
the Naaboo!"
"It would appear so," Tarpals remarked. "Now the trick will be in getting
everyone together in one place."
"No doubt the Naaboo will expect us to do that for them."
"No doubt. However, we at least know where to start looking for the rest of
their people, which is more than can be said for the Queen and her advisors."
He and Artil approached the small knot of humans and Gungans, among them the
Queen, who, it turned out, had not been the female with the white face at all,
but one who had been disguised as a servant. She and Nass were talking with the
dark-skinned male, who had been introduced as "Panaaka". This real Queen had
been a surprise – strong-willed and charismatic, she had literally begged the
Gungans for help on bended knee. Even Tarpals, who had seen numerous examples of
political posturing during his time as Otoh Gunga's Patrol Chief, had to admit
the gesture had gone a long way toward changing many of his people's minds.
His own estimation of the Queen had gone up a few notches as well. As Rep Brand-ess
had said, Queen Amidala had gone to a distant place to bring back allies, only
to be refused and put off, and had returned with a small group and a single hope
– alliance with the race her people had mistrusted for centuries. Of
course, it had never occurred to any of them to ask us for help at the start,
Tarpals thought. If they had, though, I suspect we would have utterly
rejected them, and my voice would likely have been among the loudest. The Queen
can thank a group of sprattlings and a small handful of adults for the change in
attitude.
"We have a plan to defeat the droid army," Amidala was saying as the two
Gungans approached. "But we'll need a larger group of my own people than
just us to make part of this plan work." She paused and smiled at the two
Gungans who had strode up while she was speaking. Both nodded politely, and the
Queen continued. "We'll need to find where our people are being held and
free some of them."
Nass glanced at Tarpals. The Queen followed his gaze.
"Yoursa pardon, Your Honors. Theysa group of Naaboo still free and
fighting the maccaneeks," Tarpals said. The Queen's eyebrows rose and
her smile was one of relief.
"You've seen them?"
"Theysan at Tendesay, heading for Segg-lissan," Tarpals said.
"How do you know that?" Panaka demanded.
"Tha'ss where wesan left them," Tarpals replied. "Yousa want to talk to
them, yousa goin' there. Wesa gott'a way for yousa to gett'n there,"
Tarpals replied. He eyed Panaka critically. "Iss not gonna be easy."
"That doesn't matter. The important thing is to get there and make contact
with our people."
The Gungan stared at him, then nodded. "Wesa do oursa best, then." He turned
slightly. "Rell Iss."
Rell Iss, who as usual had been hovering within earshot, stepped to his side,
and the rest of their conversation was held in High Gungan. "Find General Yoss.
Give her my compliments, and ask if we may borrow Corporal Surith Herns—"
here he glanced back at Panaka "—and a pair of falumpasets."
Rell Iss's gaze flicked from Tarpals to Panaka and back. "Yes, sir!" He
was grinning when he left, leaving the humans to wonder what had just happened.
~*~*~*~
The following afternoon, the number of Naaboo in the Gungan encampment
increased dramatically as several speeders' worth of Berendar's fighters
glided to a halt at the edge of the Sacred Place's camouflaging forest.
Tarpals watched them arrive as he and the on-duty members of the Third came in
from patrol. By the time the Gungans had unsaddled and fed their kaadu,
the initial meeting between Nass, Amidala, Panaka and the two hue-mins
known as Zhed-hi had concluded, and the group was dispersing.
Panaka caught Tarpals's eye as he and Rell Iss approached the meadow where the
Naaboo were unloading their speeders and transports. "My see yousa
found them all right," Tarpals remarked.
"Your scout has a unique method of riding," Panaka responded. "Or is it
common practice for you people to hang underneath the falumpasets when
they're moving?"
"No. Mesa warned yousa thiss wass not going to be easy. That wuss only way
wesa found to hide from maccaneek sky-eyes." He looked Panaka up and
down. "Yousa semmed liken the toughest of the Naaboo with the Queen. My
don't think the rest of them would hev made it. Thought yousa would."
A suspicious look flitted across Panaka's face, as though he was sifting
through Tarpals's words to see if they were really intended as a compliment.
Finally he responded grudgingly, "Thank you. I think."
"Oursan people always thought the Naaboo wuss weak, frightened,"
Tarpals said. "Lott'n yousan tougher than wesa thought. Mebbe yousa turn out
to be warriors yet, eh?"
Panaka nodded slowly. "Maybe we will." He eyed the Gungans for a moment.
"The only members of your race I've ever dealt with were thieves and
troublemakers. But I heard what you and your riders did for Minister Brandes and
the children, not to mention our forces at Tendesay. Maybe there's more to you
folks than we've always thought."
"Mebbe there iss." Tarpals cocked his head at Panaka. "Good soak in one-a
the hot pools in the Sacred Place hepps mekk ever'thing stop hurting after
long-o day's ride," he added.
"Captain!" came Amidala's voice. Both officers turned. "Nass wants us to
brief a group of Gungan generals and other leaders."
"I think it's going to be a while before I have time for a soak," Panaka
said dryly. "But thanks anyway." He nodded and strode away. The Gungan
glanced at the two Naaboo females with Amidala; both girls grinned and
came running, passing Panaka on the way. Saché and Yané halted an arm's
length away and saluted, still grinning. "We didn't want to embarrass you in
front of the troops by hugging you," Saché said. "Hello, Rell Iss." The
aide nodded politely.
"Thought you'd gotten rid of us for good, didn't you, Captain?" Yané
teased. "I guess you could have saved some time by just bringing us here with
you."
"By the way, we have something for you," Saché added. She held out a
lightweight material that was rolled up and tied with a string. "It's from
Arlan. We promised we'd give it to you."
"It's called 'flimsy'," Yané explained. "You'll need to untie it
and then unroll it."
The Gungan gingerly pulled the string open, and then unrolled the material. It
turned out to be a flat surface with a drawing on it. In the middle was a large,
lumpy object drawn in red – Tarpals guessed it was meant to symbolize a maccaneek
tahnk. Around it were skinny figures drawn in browns, greens and rust, with
one drawn in grey. The grey figure sported a set of whiskery lines on its face.
Arlan had drawn blasters in the figures' hands, although there also seemed to
be several blue circles complete with dotted lines to show trajectories.
Yané began, "We think it's—"
"Ussan 'tacking the tahnks," Tarpals finished. He nodded slowly.
"Berry good. Thanka yous. Thiss'n be berry hepp-ful."
"Everyone else sends greetings," Saché told him. "They're all well."
"Good. Gledd to hear that'n," Tarpals said solemnly.
"Minister Brandes also wanted us to remind you about a joint project?" Yané
added. "She said you'd understand what she meant."
The Gungan snorted in amusement. "Yiss. Mesa unnerstand."
"We have to get back to the Queen, but we wanted to visit Zanté and the Nril
family later, if that's all right," Yané said.
Tarpals gestured to Rell Iss. "Yiss, mesa think so. Rell Iss kenn show yousan
where theys are when yousa ready." Actually, anyone in the Sacred Place would
probably know where the Nril family was. Tarpals had heard several reports of
Gungans who complained about the presence of a Naaboo child in the midst
of the refugees; Kimma and Sen Tal had both been involved in a couple of
scuffles with dissenters. At least one of the complaining parties had had to be
carried away from the fight and treated for injuries.
"What did he mean by 'helpful'?" Saché asked as they moved away.
"About the only thing a picture like that would be useful for would be
decorating the outside of a family's food preservation unit. Do Gungans even have
food preservation units?"
"I don't know," Yané remarked in a puzzled voice. "I don't understand
it, either."
Tarpals turned his attention to the group entering the forest from the open
meadow.
Herns was grinning as he urged a falumpaset down the ramp of a transport
vehicle. "That was an experience!" he greeted Tarpals. "It worked!"
"I'm not surprised," Tarpals remarked. "Your companion seemed less than
pleased with the ride, though."
"Did he? He didn't complain once on the trip," Herns said. "That one's
got a tough enough hide, I think."
"So it seems."
"By the way, Peskis and Orrin are in one of the other transports. Orrin was
well enough to ride back, as long as she doesn't do anything but sit." Herns
grunted as the falumpaset pranced sideways, tugging at the lead rope,
apparently happy to be out in the open again. The animal finally settled and put
its head down to graze. Herns glanced at the flimsy in Tarpals's hand. "Is
that one of H'arlan's pictures? He seems to have spent a lot of time drawing
in the last few days." The Gungan shook his head. "Apparently the Naaboo
wouldn't let him do anything else. They seem to think he's too young to
contribute anything useful. Can you believe that?"
Tarpals shook his head sympathetically. What I really can't believe is
that, given your initial attitudes about the Naaboo, you're now
defending him, he thought but said nothing. "Unfortunate, but perhaps not
surprising. I'll leave you to take care of these two, then, Corporal.
Excellent work, by the way." Tarpals slapped the falumpaset on the
flank and moved on.
Peskis waved to him from beside one of the Naaboo speeders. "Captain!
Look who's well enough to travel!" Orrin was slouched in the back seat of
the vehicle, but she managed a smile as Tarpals approached.
He stabbed a forefinger at her. "Don't move, Lieutenant. Don't salute,
don't sit up, nothing. That's an order."
"Yes, sir," murmured Orrin. "May I salute Ven?"
"No."
Artil and half a dozen of the Third Mounted Patrol's riders had been guiding
the newly arrived Naaboo to the tactical meeting inside the Sacred Place;
now the group clustered around the speeder to welcome their comrade back. They
made much of her woven tunic and trousers, which were completely different from
typical Gungan leather and suede garments.
"Is that really Orrin?" remarked one rider. "It looks like her, but
she's dressed like a Naaboo."
Artil rubbed some of the clothing between his thumb and fingers. "You're
right. Quick, let's get her into the Sacred Place and get some mud and water
on this nice, clean suit before she forgets she's one of us!"
"Touch the outfit and I'll shred your haillu," Orrin warned, her
voice gaining strength.
"Ooooo," teased several voices.
"That's Orrin, all right," the original speaker declared, and everyone
laughed.
"I guess that means you won't be needing any help getting out of that
thing," Artil added, eying the speeder.
"That's right."
"No, it's not," Tarpals corrected. "Rescue lift her out of there."
Peskis and Artil each slid an arm under Orrin's knees and another behind her
back and carefully lifted her out of the speeder. Orrin winced as she slid
sideways against Artil. "I should probably have a healer look at the
scalds...." She paused. "Ven, is Quin.... did she....?"
Artil's haillu drooped; the other riders shot him sympathetic looks.
"No. Quin's gone."
Orrin's hand remained on his arm. "Oh, Ven, I'm so sorry. Yr? The sprattlings?"
"They're here. They're all as well as can be expected."
Tarpals cleared his throat. "Take her to one of the healers. She stays there
until she's certified as fit; if our comrades want to see her, they can visit
her there. She's still on medical leave – no duties."
"But, Captain –"
"Enough, Lieutenant! You can barely walk yet. Besides, Saché and H'yané
will have my hide if you're not properly treated."
Orrin and Artil both stared at him. Then Orrin snickered and drawled, "Oh, of
course, I'm sure two Naaboo tsanin are enough to intimidate you!"
Artil shook his head. "I don't know, Captain, she sounds completely
recovered to me – mouthy, insubordinate...."
"Yes. Fortunately, she's still on medical leave. We can blame it on
delirium." Tarpals jerked his head toward the swamps. "Get her under cover,
Ven."
"Yes, sir." Artil paused; then just before he and Orrin were out of earshot,
he added, "Shall I see if the medics want to bandage her mouth closed?"
"Hey!" Orrin protested.
Tarpals nodded sagely. "Now there's an intriguing idea."
