The other malia stayed a few meters away, snarling at Qui-Gon. Obi- Wan saw its muscles bunch in preparation for a leap. Suddenly, its eyes rolled back and it fell dead.

Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon. He saw that his Master was just as mystified as he was. As if they had silently communicated a signal, the rest of the malia suddenly streaked toward the cover of the woods.

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes roaming the surroundings to make sure the malia were truly gone.

"We'll know in a moment."

Suddenly the leaves parted and a group of beings appeared. They were short, with leathery brown skin and powerful chests. Their faces were covered in thick hair, their ears long and pointed. They held weapons Obi- Wan had never seen before, long tubes made out of polished stone. He guessed that they were a form of blowpipe.

"Don't move," Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan calmly. One of the beings stepped forward and spoke in Basic.

"You will have a more pleasant death at our hands than the malia," he said. "Our poisons are quick." He made a signal and gestured to the others.

The tribe put their blow tubes to their lips.

"You are welcome to the malia," Qui-Gon said. There was no hint of hurry or distress in his tone. "We are only visitors to your world, on the way to our transport. We thank you for saving our lives."

The leader held up a hand. The blow tubes were not dropped, but the tribe watched the Jedi warily.

"You do not want the malia meat?" the leader asked.

"We have our own supplies, food from our own world," Qui-Gon said.

"We are not here to hunt"

The leader studied them a moment. "Then pass on."