Fire erupted within the compound as rifles and blasters blazed away. Inside the establishment's armored office, two managers and one of the owners bemoaned the destruction of store and stock as the two sets of combatants flailed away at one another. The authorities had already been alerted, but by the time they decided to put in an appearance the interior of the neatly laid-out commercial complex might well lie in ruins.
These were not the same garden-variety assassins and mur derers she and Barriss had been forced to confront soon after their arrival on Ansion, Luminara decided. They advanced with much more assurance, took aim with far greater accuracy. Only Jedi skills enabled her and her companions to hold them off.
Someone, she mused, had gone to considerable trouble and ex pense to engage this bunch.
Dealing with two assailants at once, she did not see the small shape of the diminutive but well-armed Vrot rising slowly on her left from behind a pair of terrified customers. Knowing he would probably get only one shot at the elusive and difficult-to-target Jedi, the Vrot took careful aim. As he was about to pull the trigger of his weapon, something that was all bulging eyes, flailing arms, and kicking feet landed on his head and shoulders. Star- tied, the murderous Vrot went down beneath a volley of uniquely inventive invective.
"Tooqui kill! Bad bad foreigner! Tooqui choke with own en trails! Tooqui-whup!"
Throwing the lightweight obstruction off his shoulders, the infuriated Vrot whirled and brought his weapon to bear on the meddlesome Gwurran. As he did, he was struck again, this time by two much bigger and stronger bodies. Luminara saw that she was once more free to deal with her original assailants. Between the three of them, Kyakhta, Bulgan, and the effervescent Tooqui were cheerfully beating the living daylights out of the unfortunate Vrot.
But there were too many skilled attackers. To ensure the safety of innocent bystanders, of shoppers and sales personnel, Luminara and Obi-Wan decided that a retreat was in order. It would be more dangerous to continue the fight out in the street, where they would again likely come under close-in fire from surrounding rooftops, but that was better than seeing dozens of inoffensive citizens cut down by the callous gang of professional killers.
Ogomoor got the word from one of his hirelings inside the compound and hurried to alert his frustrated snipers. "Be ready!" he instructed them via voice and comlink. "The Jedi are retreating! Let them all back out onto the street before you resume fire." Returning his attention to the boulevard below, he added more softly but no less emphatically, "We don't want even one of them to get away."
Kneeling behind his sniper's rifle on the parapet of the building on which they waited, one of the assassins inquired casually, "What about the Alwari who are with them? The two big ones and the little one?"
"Don't worry about them. Our people on the ground will take care of them. Get the Jedi first, then their Padawans." Ea gerly, Ogomoor leaned forward to enjoy the forthcoming slaughter while exposing as little of his own precious self as possible.
Below, a recognizable garment appeared, vanished back under cover, appeared again. Come out, noble Jedi. Show yourselves. Step out in the street, into the dear, bright sunshine of Ansion. Step out where I can see you. I, and my very high-priced servants.
There, he shouted silently. He could see both Jedi, fighting side by side, emerging with obvious reluctance but emerging nonetheless from within the cover of the trading compound. He could see the two kneeling assassins on his left tensing as they prepared to fire. With luck and good fortune, it would all finally be over in less than a minute or two.
Unfortunately, the blessings of Jiaguin, the god of guile, were not with him that morning. The Alwari who descended upon the pair of snipers might as well have dropped out of the sky for all the intimation they gave of their presence. Knives and other traditional weapons flashed repeatedly in that same clear, bright sunshine of Ansion that Ogomoor had been counting on to facilitate the work of his hired assassins. As he whirled and raced for the exit that led down and away from the rooftop, he caught a passing glimpse of the bold motifs on the intruders' garments. His eyes grew even wider than usual.
Sitting Borokii-and Hovsgol Januul. Warriors of the two most important overclans. Ferocious fighters with reputations that extended the length and breadth of both hemispheres.
What were they doing here, in Cuipernam, interfering in a city brawl? He did not know and could not imagine. He knew only that the sunny rooftop was no longer a safe place to linger.
As he fled, he saw that similar scuffles were taking place on the roofs opposite, where other outriding Alwari were overpowering his remaining snipers. Without shooters on the rooftops to worry about, he feared the Jedi and their Padawans would make short work of his surviving workforce. Then there would be nothing standing between them, the city of Cuiper-nam's municipal complex, and the Unity delegation. Unexpectedly, he found himself faced with the prospect of having to report yet another failure to his master. An especially expensive failure. Soergg would be less than pleased and more than furious. He would. .
Cuipernam was not the only city on Ansion, and Soergg the Hutt not the only bossban worthy of the majordomo's inimitable talents. Weary of having to report one failure after another, the redoubtable Ogomoor wondered as he descended the stairs three at a time if today might not be the right day for someone of his ability to think seriously about seeking employment elsewhere.
No, he told himself as he fumbled for the closed-frequency comlink. He might yet make his knowledge and experience pay. There was still one card left to play.
Neither Luminara nor Obi-Wan quite understood what had happened to the potentially lethal shooters on the surround ing rooftops until a familiar face appeared in the midst of the
body-strewn street. As soon as they recognized it, they and their Padawans were in equal measure surprised and relieved.
"Hello, Bayaar." Placing one hand over her face and the other over her chest, Luminara greeted the Borokii warrior in the accepted Alwari fashion. Behind him, Borokii and Januul fighters were mopping up the last of the hired assassins. This wouldn't take long, she saw, since the remainder of their attackers were now desperately scrambling to flee in any and every available direction. "Though I didn't expect to see you again, I have to admit that your timing for a reunion is nothing short of admirable."
"What is this?" Obi-Wan gestured past him, in the direction of their other rescuers.
Bayaar's sharp teeth showed in a broad grin. "Your honor guard, noble Obi-Wan. Don't you remember being promised a 'present' by the twinned Council of Alwari Elders? This is it. They didn't want anything to happen to their new offworld friends." Had he been physiologically capable of doing so, he would have winked. "Especially not before the formal treaty between the Alwari and the Unity is put in place. We've been shadowing you ever since you left our camp; guarding your rear, looking for trouble, watching out for you." His tone and expression grew more serious. "We lingered almost too far behind you."
"We would have managed," Anakin told him. At a stern look from his Master, he added quickly, "Though your help was cer tainly more than welcome."
Bayaar bowed slightly in the Padawan's direction, and Anakin felt abashed. Would he ever learn to think before speaking? His training was making him more than overconfident: it was making him brash. Somehow, he was going to have to learn