Still, the brisk morning air was undeniably invigorating. Standing up on his saddle, maintaining perfect balance as his mount loped along beneath him, Obi-Wan proceeded to run through a series of stretching exercises. The two Padawans observed the demonstration admiringly. Anakin knew that if he were to try such a stunt, he'd be picking himself out of the grass within minutes. What Obi-Wan was doing demanded perfect coordination, complete confidence in his own abilities, and nerves of steel. But then, his teacher was well known for his mastery of the mysteries of the body's neuromuscular complexities.
Riding close alongside, Luminara occasionally glanced in the direction of the other Jedi Knight. She could have matched his movements, but preferred to rest. Before long she turned her attention back to the prairie ahead. There was a question or two that needed to be asked of their guides. Gently spurring her suu-batar, she accelerated away from Kenobi and up to join them.
That left Obi-Wan alone to contemplate the gently rolling grassland in front of them. As was always the case on a new world, there was plenty to study: geology and climate as well as the more immediate flora and fauna.
Unbeknownst to him, Anakin continued to observe his mentor from a distance. Most of the time, he reflected, it was impossible to tell what the Master was thinking. Was that the fate of all Jedi-to gradually grow solitary, withdrawn, and distant? Looking at the young woman riding along beside him, it was difficult to envision such a melancholic transformation overtaking the spirited and energetic Barriss. His fellow Padawan was full of life. And to be fair, he told himself, Luminara Unduli was far more animated than Obi-Wan. Was it only male Jedi, then, who were destined to live lives of endless solemn introspection?
That would not happen to him, he vowed silently. Whatever the future brought, he resolved it would not include the life of dour reserve that seemed to afflict Master Obi-Wan. He recalled the marvelous, spirited storytelling performance his teacher had put on for the enthralled Yiwa. Was he judging Obi-Wan too harshly? Was it the Jedi's fault that he had never felt the kind of stirrings that moved his Padawan to stare for hours on end at the night sky and call out in silence to a certain distant star? His teachings told him to be compassionate when faced with the deprivation of others. Even a student could spare sympathy for a teacher, he decided. Then and there he resolved to always keep that in mind when arguing with Obi-Wan.
If I should ever forget this vow, he concluded firmly, it will be because I am no longer the person I have chosen to be.
"You did well last night."
"What?" Aware that he had been sunk deep in thought, he made a point of smiling broadly at his amiable if sometimes exas perating interrogator. "Did well at what?"
Having turned toward him, Barriss was riding effortlessly sidesaddle. "When we were escaping the Qulun, and particularly during the unfortunate business of recovering our mounts. I saw what you did."
He responded uninterestedly. "I did what Master Obi-Wan told me to do. What I had to do."
"That's the second time I've seen you wield a lightsaber. You're very strong." Unconsciously, she felt her hand where it had been cut. That kind of experience would teach her not to relax and lower her guard, she told herself firmly, even in the face of a seemingly inferior opponent.
"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.