Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan made their way across an open field in the midst of the jumble of compound buildings. They still had some time before people began gathering for dinner, so they enjoyed a pleasant stroll on the grounds. Obi-Wan breathed in the cold air. It smelled fresh and...alive. He didn't quite know what to make of this impression. But it was a living world with animals and predators that the Jedi had needed to be wary of when they had gone into the wastelands after their fugitive. Bovad was far from desolate. But it had no seasons to alter its endless winter.
Obi-Wan suddenly stepped aside; at the same time Qui-Gon stopped, his master's hand going up and catching the snowball that would have hit his shoulder. A second snowball flew past, just missing Obi-Wan's head. They both turned to their left.
Two Zonim children, nearly danced with anticipation, a pile of fat snowballs between them. Obi-Wan looked at his master who dropped the snowball he'd caught and raised both hands to decline the offer. They'd seen the game played as they walked about the field. It was just a variant of many similar such children's games played on many worlds. Players on either side of a line scored points by either hitting their opponents or forcing them to step out of their lane. This version was played by pairs of players with snowballs in marked out lanes in the snow. The snowballs were thrown simultaneously, first by one team, then the other, so the pair dodging the snowballs couldn't be sure of who they were aimed at.
The Jedi had seen the piled snowballs and empty lanes and had been crossing them to get to another walkway. Apparently simply entering the field of play was enough to initiate a challenge. The two children wore snow suits, one brown, the other purple, and they ignored Qui-Gon's gestures and picked up more snowballs from their pile, inviting the Jedi to take their turn. A large group of children of varying ages watched from behind their lane.
Obi-Wan grinned as he saw his master sigh. They looked down at prymid of snowballs in their lane and each picked one. The Jedi exchanged a look, turned and threw.
The two children nearly ran into each other trying to duck. Each succeeded in dodging the snowball aimed at them, but were caught by the other one.
'Whoa!" They took their loss with great excitement, sprang up and before the Jedi could politely move on, two more, slightly older children took their place. A line was forming among the crowd.
In every bout the children missed them, but the Jedi would hit both their opponents, except for one young boy who threw himself under Qui-Gon's snowball and out of his lane, which still counted as a score for the Jedi. Obi-Wan enjoyed the activity and even Qui-Gon looked amused after the first few matches. The children threw their snowballs and took their hits with equal enthusiasm. No one seemed to be keeping score.
Then two older teenagers, older than Obi-Wan, took their turn. They bent over the now much smaller pile of snowballs and threw.
Obi-Wan ducked, his hand shot out and he caught this one. It made a firm smack in his gloved palm. He straightened and looked down at it and then at the one that Qui-Gon now held up.
These snowballs had not come from the pile. They were hard and heavy and icy, and from the expression on the other children's faces as they saw them, clearly against the rules. Qui-Gon cooly looked at the teenagers, who must have been hiding the ice balls in their pockets.
Everyone tensed.
Then Qui-Gon's expression lightened as he glanced to his left, drawing everyone else's attention. A small child, no more than two or three years old and well bundled up against the cold, had waddled out from the crowd of children and into the field of play. All eyes followed her progress (it was impossible to tell what gender she was by sight, but Qui-Gon sensed that she was female). She carried an enormous, fluffy snowball, half as wide as she was.
Completely ignoring the lanes, she happily made steady progress, crossing through the teenagers' area and then over to the Jedi. With a wide, open-mouthed grin on her dark, blue-green face, she looked up at Qui-Gon as she approached, having settled on him as her target. Coming right up to him she stopped and plopped her snowball right on the end of his boot. Then she looked up, still grinning, for approval.
"Well, I see I am defeated," Qui-Gon declared mildly. The teenagers had disappeared from the lane. The crowd of children started to disperse.
The toddler squealed with delight and then lifted her arms up in the universally understood pick-me-up gesture of all bipedal two-year olds.
"Ho!" A cheerful man came half running toward them. He wore a long, fuzzy blue coat and matching cap tied closely over his hairless, green head. Distracted, the child turned and he scooped her up. "You shameless thing." He tickled her and she squealed with delight and hugged him. The newcomer introduced himself as Pimas, a fourth cousin to the Tilplens. The Jedi bowed in greeting and he offered to show them around. After he found an older sibling to take the child, he led them around the compound.
Pimas told them about the colony and the clans as they walked about the grounds. He put a lot of flair into his anecdotes about the family and residents; he prided himself on being able to make any story good. The sun went down and a few small, exterior lights came on. Pimas privately berated himself for not thinking to bring a daylight lantern so he spoke loudly and kept to only wide and unobstructed paths. Humanoids generally had poor heat-sight, if any, and since the Tilplens Compound had no off-worlder residents, it wasn't lit for them.
His worst fears were confirmed when the call chime sounded to announce the transports to dinner and the last of the day-glow faded from the sky. Pimas turned to face his guests to show them the quickest way and from their unfocused gazes he could tell that they were as good as blind. They had no heat-sight at all and couldn't possibly tell which way he was pointing. But their higher body temperatures made their faces shine out like beacons in the cold around them.
And yet...Qui-Gon Jinn nodded back to him and he and Obi-Wan Kenobi both proceeded that way. Did Jedi have other ways of seeing? He stayed close, but they never missed a step all the way to the transport platforms.
Obi-Wan looked at the small fleet of closed-cabin hover cars as they approached. Their orange and green lights blinked in the gloom and their engines hummed amidst the sounds of voices and people boarding. They got in line with Pimas and soon were seated with more than twenty others. As soon as the cabin was full it left for one of the city centers of Nebo-Sun.
It wasn't very far to Nebo-Sun, but because every other transport in that part of the city was going the same way the traffic slowed them down. There was plenty of time for Pimas to tell them more about the holiday. Bovad's 'year' was a snowy constant, with no yearly seasons. The planet had no rotation tilt and circular orbit, so the holiday, Gyseer, simply came every two-hundred days on the calendar. The essence of it was a day of cleaning out the clan home of old things and of ordering personal lives with a solemn ritual called the Gyseer, which literally meant 'mercy'. Any member of the gathering could go to any other member and confess anything. They may or may not ask for something as well. The person receiving the petition did not need to agree or grant any favors, but they were required to be utterly dispassionate about it and to never, ever hold it against the person who had come to them for Gyseer.
According to Pimas, most of the petitions ran from the trivial confessions of a child for stealing up to admissions of infidelity and requests for divorce. Pimas was telling a few tales about some more amusing requests (there were no rules against gossiping about Gyseer afterwards) when their car arrived and they disembarked.
They went with the crowds into the huge commerce dome of the city. Nebo-Sun had several commerce domes, but this was the one that the Tilplens clan patronized and where the Gyseer-eve feast would be held. Multiple species lived closer to the city, so the area was well lit for all with bright, overhead lanterns. The interior spaces were enclosed and climate controlled. They all loosened their outer robes and the Jedi put their gloves away. People were gathering towards the area where they would be seated and Pimas guided them to where the Human guests would be. For a large setting it was always easiest to separate the species to prevent someone from getting the wrong (and possibly poisonous) dish.
Pimas hesitated. Should he just leave them? He'd told them that after dinner they were free to enjoy any of the entertainments or take one of the transports back to the compound. They'd been non-committal about either choice. Pimas wanted to enjoy his dinner and have some fun with friends and he didn't care for the idea of having to go find these two again in the crowd after he ate. Mama-Low had been right; they were pretty independent all by themselves. And the tall one had been responding less and less to any of his stories, giving Pimas the impression that he was losing interest, but was just being polite about it.
Qui-Gon Jinn freed Pimas from the obligation when he told him that they looked forward to seeing him back at the compound. Pimas wished them a good feast and hurried off.
Obi-Wan followed his master into the room of milling people. Most were Humans or similar species with a few Zonim hosts scattered in the crowd. Droids placed settings and appetizers onto the long tables that filled most of the large hall. Glittering decorations and streamers hung from the high ceilings above. Servitor droids were already directing people to seats. Obi-Wan ducked behind Qui-Gon as a droid whizzed past with a very large serving tray.
"You don't need to get behind me to find your way this time, Obi-Wan," his master said while still scanning the activity in the room.
Obi-Wan cringed. Of course, Qui-Gon had noticed. When they'd been walking on the Tilplens' grounds Obi-Wan had relied on Qui-Gon's presence to find his way. As night set in Obi-Wan had called on the Force to not trip and stay with Qui-Gon and Pimas. But his own senses, sight and sound, sometimes seemed to contradict what he felt through the Force. All his senses should have been working in concert, but once he got distracted, it was just an opening for doubt and a missed step. But he'd been absolutely sure about Qui-Gon, his presence and where he was, so he'd stayed close all the way to the transport.
"I'm sorry, Master," he apologized. "I should have done better."
"Yes, you should." Qui-Gon accepted, looking down at him. There was no lecture in his master's voice, in fact, he looked amused.
"You will do better later, I think," Qui-Gon assured him. They got into one of many lines to be seated. A slender, silver droid with a holiday garland around its head seated them in the middle of one long, narrow table that faced another one with it's own row of diners. A gap between the tables allowed the droids to serve from the middle. The woman seated next to him passed Qui-Gon a bowl of nuts. He sampled a few before passing it on to Obi-Wan. They were crunchy and salty but with a flavor undistinguishable from many other nuts in the galaxy. The woman introduced herself as Azlu Bering and her husband, Yude Tal and their son beyond them, Mularin. They owned a shop in the city. On the other side of Obi-Wan was an older man who seemed to only be interested in speaking loudly with the even older man on the other side of him.
A persistent giggling caught Qui-Gon's attention. He suddenly regretted where they were sitting, but the room was already nearly full and it would be difficult to find two empty places together. Seated at the table across from them was a row of young girls, whispering and pointing. And they were looking at Obi-Wan like he was going to be the dessert. His apprentice did his best to not show the tension and discomfort that Qui-Gon sensed in him. Well, Qui-Gon reflected, there were worse hazards for a Jedi.