"I've practiced hard." Raising its front, then its middle, and finally its hind legs, his suubatar cleared a low ridge of gray stone. "There are those who say you can define a Jedi by his skill with a lightsaber. I want my ability to be respected. Respect forestalls fights."

She smiled. "Watching you, one would almost think you could give Master Yoda a good contest."

That made him blink. "Master Yoda? You must be joking."

Her smile vanished. "Why would I joke about such a thing?

Master Yoda is reputed to be the greatest lightsaber master ever. Don't tell me you never had a fighting class with him?"

"Of course I had classes with him. And I agree that he's a fine teacher-of technique. Even if he does have to stand on a platform so that his students can see him. His dexterity is amazing to see, especially considering his lack of reach." Earnestness crept into his voice. "That's just schooling, Barriss. It's all theory and supposition. Even if it's being taught by Master Yoda. It's not real fighting."

This time, instead of replying immediately, she gave his ob servations some thought. "What makes you think Master Yoda has never used a lightsaber in an actual fight?"

He almost laughed out loud, then thought better of it. Obi- Wan and Luminara might overhear, and choose to inquire as to the source of so much hilarity. Anakin's explanation, he knew, would not go down well with his teacher. Like all other Jedi, Obi-Wan revered the grand Master. Certain subjects, Obi-Wan would lecture him tirelessly, were not appropriate subjects for humor.

That didn't mean he was going to ignore his companion's question.

"Come on, Barriss. Master Yoda, engaged in serious dueling outside the fencing arena? Can you actually envision such a contest?" Of the images that sprang to mind at such a thought, each was more amusing than the next. "Who could he reasonably be expected to fight? Someone Tooqui's size, maybe?"

"It's not the size of the Jedi or the amount of power running through her lightsaber, but the strength of her heart."

Anakin nodded knowingly. "Give me size and power any day, and keep your heart." His response verged on blasphemy, he knew, but he was curious to see how the other Padawan would react.

She handled it more calmly than he expected. "You should be ashamed to say such things, Anakin Skywalker. How can you question the proficiency of Master Yoda?"

"I'm not questioning his proficiency," Anakin shot back. "I can't, because I've attended his teaching sessions. There's no one faster or more adept with a lightsaber-in a classroom. All I'm saying is that teaching technique is not the same as using it in battle. Besides, Master Yoda is- well, he's not young. As for questioning anything at all, a good Jedi is supposed to question everything. Self-assurance is the best kind."

"It's good that you think so," she retorted. "It means you'll never have to worry about ever making a mistake."

"We all make mistakes," he countered. "That's what question ing is supposed to help prevent." He tapped himself on the chest. "I question everything that comes my way. Right now we've got whole systems questioning the way the Republic is run. Ansion is just one of them, and it's being watched closely by all the others." She eyed him intently. "Are you doing that, too, Anakin? Are you questioning the way the Republic is being governed?"

"I'd be the odd one out if I wasn't." He gestured past the head of his galloping mount. "Even Master Obi-Wan has reser vations. About corruption, about the direction the government is taking, about the directions it's not taking because it's becoming more and more bogged down in bureaucratic twaddle-sure I have questions. Don't you?"

Straightening in her saddle, she shook her head tersely. "I don't have time to waste on political disputations. I'm too busy doing my job as Padawan, trying to secure promotion to Jedi. That's enough work to occupy anyone. Or at least I thought so." She stared hard at him. "You're lucky you have room enough in your thoughts to be bothered with galactic affairs of state." And other things, he wanted to tell her, but did not. Although being thrown together in adversity had given him a grudging admiration for his colleague, and for her skills, he still did not trust her entirely. Anything he told her, he was certain, she was likely to pass straight on to her Master. Which Luminara would then tell Obi-Wan. So much for confiding, he thought. Some things were better kept to oneself.

Each time he engaged in such a verbal confrontation, it rein forced the belief that he was somehow different. Different from Barriss as much as from Luminara or even Obi-Wan. His mother had always told him as much. He wished he could talk to her now, seek her sage advice on a number of matters, not least of which was the one that threatened to consume him. And to think, he mused as he rode on, that there was a time when people thought serious separation meant finding themselves on opposite sides of the same planet. That was so long ago, so ancient a time, that it was almost impossible to imagine, back when people counted distances in physical lengths instead of time lengths.

They paused for the night by one of the innumerable small streams that notched the grasslands. There had been no sign of pursuit by Baiuntu's Qulun. Either they had suffered so seriously from the nocturnal stampede of the lorqual that they were unable to mount a chase, or else they had decided that it was not worth hunting prisoners who could strike back without being seen. "There's another possibility, too," Kyakhta pointed out when the matter was broached. "The closer we draw to the over-clan, the less inclined a lesser clan like the Qulun would be to risk interfering."

"What matters is that we seem to be safe." Obi-Wan squinted at the setting sun. "Still, we'll mount guard tonight. Just to be sure."

Anakin was glad when his turn came to stand watch. It was late, after midnight Ansion time, when Barriss came to shake him awake. A touch was all that was necessary.

"Nothing to report." She whispered so as not to wake the others. As he rose and donned his upper clothing, she was al ready slipping tiredly into her sleep sack. "You don't see anything out there, but you can hear it moving around. This world is full of furtive night sounds that live in the grass." He couldn't be certain, but he thought she was asleep before she closed her eyes.

The lookout location had been carefully chosen by their Al- wari guides. It was the highest point near their campsite, and only a very slight rise at that: a mere hiccup in the ground. Still, it provided the nearest thing to an actual vantage point within walking distance of the stream. Finding a firm, comfortable place to stand, he settled down to wait out his three-hour shift.

Most individuals would have found the duty unutterably boring. Not Anakin. Raised by a single parent, without any siblings, he was used to being by himself. For a long time as a child, machines had been his only company. Idly, he wondered what had happened to that protocol droid he had been cobbling together out of spare parts. And there was no telling what a certain garrulous winged merchant named Watto might be up to. He wondered what the taciturn big-nosed bug was doing these days. He found himself shaking his head at the memory. If anyone was entitled to act a little strange now and again, it was Anakin Sky-walker. Who else could claim a greedy, oversized Toydarian as the nearest thing to a father figure?