"Here." Still breathing hard and gulping for air as they stopped outside the visitors' house, the utterly fatigued Jedi thrust the clump of albino wool into their host's hands. "Give this to your elders. Tell them who it's from and how it came to be in your possession." Turning away from the solemn, respectful sentinel she took a step toward the entrance-and slumped into the supportive arms of her friends.

"The Force is a wondrous thing, but you can't bathe in it. I'm sure roasted surepp tastes wonderful, but when alive they smell like any herd of densely packed herbivores. Crucial meeting or not, I've got to have a bath before I can think of presenting myself to even a junior elder!"

As they helped her up the stairs into the visitors' house, numerous Borokii, having learned of what had just transpired, had assembled outside to stare at the offworlders. Their whispered comments were full of admiration, their unwavering gazes unobtrusive. A reverent Bulgan carried the Jedi's bundle of outer clothing. His and Kyakhta's admiration for the female off-worlder, which up to now had been considerable, no longer knew any bounds.

While the notion of entirely immersing oneself in a tub or pool of water as a means of relaxation quite escaped the Borokii, they were more than willing to provide the means necessary for the visitors to indulge themselves. It was hardly an expensive request. While Barriss attended to the needs of her weary teacher and the ever-inquisitive Tooqui hovered nearby making a minor pest of himself, the other members of the group settled down to a late-evening meal and contemplation of the day to come.

Much good conversation and laughter filled the visitors' house of the Situng Borokii that night, followed by preparations for sleep that were carried out with more enthusiasm than usual. As Barriss had surmised, Luminara's injury was not serious, and was effectively treated. Tomorrow would hopefully see a meeting with the Council of Elders and, if fortune was with them, the successful conclusion of the Jedi mission to Ansion. It was with such expectations in mind that each of them in due course retired to his or her dry, comfortable, Borokii-style bed. Even the seemingly perpetual internal spring that powered Tooqui finally ran down, and the little Gwurran collapsed into deep sleep with nary a word of good night to anyone.

Lying on his overstuffed sleeping pad, Obi-Wan contemplated Lurninara's already softly sleeping form in light of what she had accomplished earlier that evening. He did not think he could have done it. His particular talents lay elsewhere. The sight of her vaulting from the back of one surepp to another, never lingering long enough for her presence to unduly alarm a single beast, knowing that a single slip might mean certain death despite anything Jedi training could do, had aroused in him the kind of admiration one normally reserved for the actions of those on the Jedi Council. He wanted very much to ask her exactly how she had managed certain seemingly impossible moves.

But not tonight, he told himself firmly. This night was for savoring the accomplishments of the day and for anticipating the achievements to be realized tomorrow. Time enough later to deal with other thoughts, other matters.

Nearby, Anakin Skywalker relaxed for the first time in weeks. If Master Lurninara's feat was followed, as Master Obi-Wan believed, by a successful meeting with the Borokii Council of Elders, then they would at least be able to return to Cuipernam and from there to civilization. A result devoutly to be wished, because anything that took him away from Ansion brought him closer to where he really wanted to be.

Thoughts swirling in anticipation of the successful end of their mission, he allowed himself, for the first time in many days, to drift slowly into a sleep that was as contented as it was deep.

While there was plenty of convivial chatter and casual conversation when the group gathered this time, all of the conspirators wore their concerns like jewelry. Despite the overweening air of gaiety, one could cut the tension inside the transport with a knife. Large enough to carry fifty passengers in luxury and comfort, the vehicle was presently conveying half that number, together with their attendant serving droids.

Below, the endless world-city that was Coruscant gleamed golden in the morning sun as the planet's star rose over the distant, irregular horizon of towers and domes. None of the passengers was pleased with the timing of the convocation, but all had agreed to it. There was dissension within the movement, and it had to be resolved. For many of the participants, the time for talking was done with. Those arguing in favor of moving forward now were making their case forcefully, even brusquely. To them, it was not a matter of moving too fast. It was simply that as far as they were concerned, the time for waiting was at an end.

That certainly seemed to be the majority opinion inside the transparisteel-enclosed passenger compartment. As tumblers clinked and expensively attired individuals saluted one another on their forthcoming triumph, one would have thought the articles of secession had already been signed and disseminated. Laughter rose above the small talk as jokes were swapped that described the eagerly anticipated reactions of certain well-known and heartily disliked politicians to the declaration that was to come.

Among the revelers were a handful who did not join in the hasty celebration. Most notable among these was a prominent Shu Mai of mild aspect and conciliatory demeanor. Idly, she peered out through the protective transparisteel at the unending panorama of residences and factories, gardens and urban facilities sliding past beneath them. The morning sky was full of similar, if far less well-appointed vehicles, carrying people to and from their places of work and habitation. Billions of them on Coruscant alone, trillions more scattered across the galaxy, the fate of all about to be altered to one degree or another by the decision the handful of sentients in this one transport were on the verge of rendering.

It was a great responsibility, she knew. Too much, really, for one individual to ponder. But she was prepared to do so. As president of the Commerce Guild, she was charged with making such decisions. Sooner or later, all sentients were compelled to confront their destiny. Most turned away from it. She intended to fully embrace her own.

Someone had to step forward and say what needed to be said. The victory celebration was getting out of hand-especially in the absence of any victory. Working her way to the back of the compartment, Shu Mai stepped up on a small stool. It wasn't much of a platform, but then, this was not the guild she was addressing, either.

"It's too soon!" Shu Mai proclaimed, loud enough to be heard above the babble but without shouting.

Conversation faded quickly. Everyone turned to look at her.

"Too soon," she added in a softer yet still steely tone, "to reveal our real intentions, and ourselves."

"Excuse me, Shu Mai," declared a slim but powerful hu-manoid who stood in the senate for three inhabited worlds, "but not only is it not too soon, hssst, it is overdue. We have waited for this moment long enough." The subsequent rising murmur showed just how much support this opinion held among the assembled.