The Jedi followed Raayar into the camp. They detected only open friendliness towards themselves and more than a little curiosity from the natives. The escort led them to a small tent set slightly away from the rest and gestured towards it. "The Visitors Tent. Please make yourselves comfortable and enjoy the provided food and drink. We will see to it your woman receives medical attention. Shanh wounds are poisonous if left untreated."
Once he had gone, two nomads appeared to take the animals. Seeing as they really had nothing else to do, they entered the tent. It was spacious and comfortable. Phaelon sank onto a large poof, trying to contain a fit of giggles. "So, I'm your woman?" she asked.
Kyp looked slightly uncomfortable. "I didn't say it."
At that moment, there was a knock on the tent pole, and an elderly Ansonian woman entered. "Excuse my intrusion," she said. "My name is Kaliis and I am the elder Healer among the Januul. One of you was attacked by the shanh?"
Phaelon nodded and stood. "I was."
The old woman approached and began studying the wound. The Jedi let the Force leave her, and the wound immediately broke open and began oozing. She hissed in pain as the healer poked at it. The grizzled hand paused near her belt, off which hung her lightsaber.
"A Jedi?" she asked, peering into Phaelon's eyes. She reached a hand up to touch the dark-blue diamonds on her nose. "Mistress Offee?"
Phaelon was confused. "My name is Phaelon Lei."
Something passed and the woman began dabbing at the wound with a cloth, but she spoke as she worked. "I'm sorry. I knew a Jedi a long time ago by the name of Barriss Offee. She had nearly identical tattoos. Four of them came to seek a peace with us."
"These aren't tattoos," Phaelon explained, but she was more interested in getting information. "You said four Jedi came to your people?"
The woman chuckled. "Oh yes. They sought a peace with us and the other clans and the city dwellers, and we are very grateful to them. If you are Jedi, the Council will look favorably on anything you wish."
She finished applying healing herbs and bandaging the nasty wound, which continued to bleed. Smiling to herself, the old woman left without another word.
OO
When she was gone, the Jedi studied one another. "Can we trust her?" asked Phaelon after a moment.
"I sense nothing untoward in her," replied Kyp. "It appears these people know nothing of the greater galaxy."
Phaelon nodded. "That's the feeling I get as well." She winced as the wound pulled, but at least she didn't have to continue drawing on the Force.
Raayar appeared at the tent a short time later, after the Jedi had the opportunity to sample the native food and drink. "The Council has granted your requests," he beamed. "They also would like to speak with you."
He led the Jedi to a large tent ringed with standards. Inside, twelve very elderly Ansonians sat in a semi-circle facing the entrance on a series of elevated flowchairs.
They bowed to the Council. "You honor us, elders," said Phaelon.
Who looked like the oldest Ansonian spoke. "It is you who honor us," she said. "Kaliis tells us you are Jedi. Though it has been long since we've seen one of you, we are still in your debt for bringing us peace."
Another Ansonian fixed them with an unblinking stare. "Why have you come now? We were not aware of your arrival."
It was Kyp who spoke. "We beg your forgiveness. It was an accident that we arrived here." Quickly, he told of the war with the Vong and the fight at Borleias that had landed them on Ansion, their imprisonment and escape, and the fight with the shanhs.
When he'd finished, the Ansonians leaned their heads together. The very elderly one spoke again. "We are sorry to hear of your problems. Rest assured Boss Soergg is no friend of the Alwari, and he will not learn of you from us. Situng Januul will do what we can to help our Jedi friends."
"We thank you," replied Kyp. They bowed and were led out of the tent.