Star Wars_ Cloak Of Deception Part 5

"Destroying a freighter is certainly one way to delay it," Rancisis said.

Qui-Gon glanced at him. "Gobi's actions were something new."

"Then what drove the Nebula Front to escalate the violence?" Gallia asked.

Qui-Gon sensed that she was asking as much for the sake of the council as for Supreme Chancellor Valorum, with whom she had close ties. "My contact claims that the Nebula Front has grown a radical wing, and it is those militants who contracted with Captain Cohl. The Bith and many others were opposed to employing mercenaries, but the militants have a.s.sumed command of the organization." Yoda rubbed his chin in thought. "After the aurodium ingots, were they not?" Qui-Gon shook his head. "Frankly, Master, I'm not sure if I accept the Federation's claim."

"You have reason to doubt it?" Koon asked.

"It's a question of method. The Trade Federation concedes a preoccupation with safeguarding their cargos.

Why, then, would they entrust a s.h.i.+pment of aurodium to a poorly defended freighter like the Revenue, when the more heavily armed Acquisitor was only a star system away?"

"A point, he has," Yoda said.

"I consider the reason obvious," Rancisis disagreed. "The Trade Federation falsely a.s.sumed that no one would suspect the Revenue of harboring such wealth."

"The question is of little consequence," Gallia said. "The use of mercenaries like Cohl signals the beginning of a coordinated campaign to counter the Trade Federation's droid defenses by force, and ultimately to overthrow Trade Federation influence in the outlying systems."

"Fortunately, Captain Cohl is no longer a concern," Plo Koon remarked.

Yoda adopted a wide-eyed look. "Concern Qui-Gon, Cohl does." Qui-Gon felt the council's close scrutiny.

"I don't believe that he perished with the freighter," he said at last.

"You were there, were you not?" Rancisis asked.

"Saw it with his own eyes, he did," Yoda said, with a twinkle in his eye.

Qui-Gon compressed his lips. "Cohl planned for every eventuality. He wouldn't have piloted his craft into an explosion just to evade pursuit."

"Then why didn't you capture him as you hoped to do?" Rancisis asked.

Qui-Gon planted his hands on his hips, thumbs pointed behind him. "As Master Gallia has said, Cohl is only the beginning. My Padawan and I attached a tracking device to Cohl's s.h.i.+p, in the hope of tracking it to the Nebula Front's current base, which could be on one of the Rimma worlds that support the terrorists. After the explosion, the tracker failed to return a signal." Gallia stared at him for a moment. "You searched for Cohl, Qui-Gon?"

"Obi-Wan and I found no signs of his shuttle.

For all we know, he rode the leading edge of the explosion right down Dorvalla's gravity well."

"You have informed the Judicial Department of your suspicions?" Rancisis asked.

"Some of Cohl's better-known haunts are under surveillance," Gallia answered for Qui-Gon.

Koon left his chair to stand alongside Qui-Gon. "Captain Cohl may be the best of his ilk, but there are many more like him, just as heartless, just as rapacious. The Nebula Front militants will have no trouble finding eager replacements." Rancisis nodded gravely. "This is something we need to watch closely." Yoda crossed the room, shaking his head back and forth. "Avoid a conflict with the Nebula Front, we must. Speak for many, they do. Compromise us, they will."

"I agree," Rancisis said. "We can't afford to take sides."

"But we have to take sides," Qui-Gon blurted.

"I'm not an ally of the Trade Federation. But acts of terrorism by the Nebula Front won't be limited to freighters. Innocent beings will be endangered." Everyone fell silent, except for Yoda.

"A true Knight, Qui-Gon is," he said, with a note of gentle rebuke.

"Forever on his own quest." small, humid world disdained by an aging sun, ationei - moidia was a place to be avoided--even by Neimoidians. Instead of profiting from its relative proximity to self-reliant Corellia and industrialized Kuat, Neimoidia had actually suffered for its placement, having been pa.s.sed over, time and again, by the fraternity of Core worlds. That heritage of being shunned had informed Neimoidian society.

Scorn had imparted to the species a conviction that progress came to only those who proved themselves not merely capable but predatory. Reaching the top of the food chain required that the bodies of the weak be used as stepping-stones. Once the summit was attained, it was held by seizing whatever resources were available and preventing others from grabbing them.

Those tenets were frequently offered as explanation as to how and why the Neimoidians had risen so rapidly to the fore of the Trade Federation, whose signature was callousness.

Neimoidia's most able typically left home at an early age, opting for lives of itinerant trading aboard the vessels of the Trade Federation fleet. As a result, Neimoidia was scarcely populated by the weakest of the species, who tended to the planet's vast insect hives, fungus farms, and beetle hatcheries.

Viceroy Nute Gunray shared with his fellow self-exiles a peculiar distaste for his homeworld.

But circ.u.mstance had demanded that he meet with the members of his Inner Circle in a location that guaranteed protection from the prying eyes of Coruscant. And in that sense, Neimoidia provided the best possible sanctuary.

The problem inherent in returning home was that one couldn't escape recalling--on some level of cellular memory-- the seven formative years Neimoidians spent as puny, pale, wriggling grubs, in compet.i.tion with every other grub for survival and the chance to mature into red-eyed, noseless, fish-lipped, and decidedly distrustful adults.

Adults, like Gunray, at any rate, who swathed their bodies in the finest raiment credits could buy, and who rarely, if ever, looked back.

The viceroy gave himself over to momentary reflection on such matters while the mechno-chair carried him to the meeting place, through cavernous halls of finely cut stone that mimicked the early hives, and past row after row of protocol droids standing at attention on both sides.

His ultimate destination was a dark, dank grotto, the ant.i.thesis of the gleaming bridges of Trade Federation freighters. On display were several examples of exotic flora left to fend for themselves in capturing what moisture they could from the stuffy air. The arching walls were graced with the twin emblems of piety and power: the Spherical Flame and the garhai--the armored fish that symbolized obedience and dedication to enlightened leaders.h.i.+p.

Gunray's key advisers were waiting: Deputy Viceroy Hath Monchar and legal counsel Rune Haako. Each affected a black headpiece appropriate to his status.

Monchar's was a triple - crested crown, similar to but smaller than the one Gunray wore; Haako's was an elaborate cowl, with two horns in front, and a tall, rounded back.

The two advisers made deferential gestures to Gunray as the mechno-chair eased him onto his feet.

"Welcome, Viceroy," Haako said, approaching him stooped and limping, his left arm crooked by his side. "We hope you have not come in vain."

Hollow-cheeked and somewhat spidery, he had a deeply lined face, bags under his eyes, and puckered flesh on his chin and thin neck.

Gunray made a harsh gesture of dismissal.

"He said he would come. That is enough for me."

"For you," Monchar muttered.

Gunray glared at his deputy. "Events transpired just as he promised they would. Cohl's mercenaries attacked, and the Revenue was destroyed."

"And this is a reason to rejoice?" Haako asked, his prominent voice box bobbing. "This plan of yours has cost the Trade Federation a cla.s.s-I freighter and billions in aurodium." Gunray's nict.i.tating membranes betrayed his seeming self - possession. He blinked repeatedly, then quickly regained his composure.

"One s.h.i.+p and a treasure box. If our benefactor really is who he claims to be, such losses are meaningless." Haako raised a palsied hand. "And if he is, he is a thing to fear, not to delight. And how can we be certain, in any case? What proof does he offer, Viceroy? He contacts you out of the ether, only by hologram. He can claim to be anyone." Gunray worked his jutting jaw. "Who would be brain-dead enough to make such a claim without being able to support it?" He brought forth a portable holoprojector and set it down on a table.

When the Dark Lord of the Sith had first contacted him, months earlier, he seemed to know everything about Nute Gun - ray and his rise to personal power. How Gunray had testified to the Trade Federation Directorate against Pulsar Supertanker--at the time a partic.i.p.atory company within the conglomerate--accusing Pulsar of "malicious disregard for profit" and "charitable donations lacking discernible reward."

Indeed, it appeared to have been that testimony and similar declarations of avidity that had first attracted the notice of Darth Sidious.

Even so, Gunray had remained as skeptical then as his advisers were now, despite demonstrations by Darth Sidious of his wide-ranging influence and sway. Secretly, Sidious had arranged for several key resource worlds to join the Trade Federation as signatory members, abdicating their representation in the Galactic Senate in exchange for lucrative trade opportunities, and, where possible, protection from smuggling concerns and pirates. And at each turn Sidious had made the procurements appear the doing of Gunray, thus helping to consolidate Gunray's increasing authority and a.s.suring his appointment to the directorate.

As to whether Sidious's influence truly owed to Sith powers, Gunray could not say, nor did he care to know, based on what little he knew of the Sith--an ancient, perhaps legendary order of black mages, absent from the galaxy for the past thousand years.

Some referred to the Sith as the dark side of the Jedi; others claimed that it was the Jedi who had ended the reign of the Sith, in a war that had pitted dark and light against each other. Still others said the Sith, greedy for power, killed one another. But Gunray knew nothing of the truth of these things, and he hoped to keep it that way.

He stared pointedly at the holoprojector; the appointed moment was close at hand.

Gunray hadn't finished the thought when the head and shoulders of a cloaked apparition rose from the device, the cowl of his dark garment pulled down over his eyes, revealing a deeply furrowed chin and a jowly, aged face. An elaborate broach closed the cloak at the neck.

When the figure spoke, his voice was a prolonged rasp.

"I see, Viceroy, that you have a.s.sembled your underlings, as I asked,"

Darth Sidious began.

Gunray knew that the word underlines wasn't going to find favor among Monchar and Haako. Though there was little he could do about that, he thought it best at least to attempt to rectify matters.

"My advisors, Lord Sidious." Sidious's face betrayed nothing. "Of course- -your advisors." He paused for a moment, as if probing the incalculable distance that separated them. "I perceive an atmosphere of misgiving, Viceroy.

Has the aftermath of our plan failed to please you?"

"No, not at all, Lord Sidious," Gunray stammered. "It's only that the loss of the freighter and the aurodium ingots is a matter of concern to some." He glanced with purpose at his two counselors.

"The others lack your grasp of the larger purpose, Viceroy," Sidious said with a note of disdain.

"Perhaps we need to reacquaint them with our intent to stir sympathy for the Trade Federation in the senate.

That is why we informed the Nebula Front militants of the s.h.i.+pment of aurodium. The loss of the ingots will further our cause. Soon you will have the politicians and bureaucrats eating out of your hands, and then the Trade Federation will at last have the droid army it needs. Baktoid, Haor Chall Engineering, and the Colicoids are waiting to fill your orders." Gunray began to fidget. "Army, Lord Sidious?"

"The riches of the Outer Rim await those with the courage to grab them."

Gunray gulped. "But, Lord Sidious, perhaps the time isn't right to take such actions--was "Not right? It is your destiny.

With a droid army to support you, who would dare question Neimoidia's authority to rule the s.p.a.ce lanes?"

"We would welcome the ability to defend ourselves against pirates and agitators," Rune Haako risked saying. "But we don't wish to break the terms of our trade treaty with the Republic. Not when the price of a droid army is taxation of the free trade zones."

"So you've heard about Chancellor Valorum's intentions," Sidious said.

"Only that he is likely to give his full weight to the proposal," Gunray said.

Sidious nodded. "Rest a.s.sured, Viceroy, Supreme Chancellor Valorum is our strongest ally in the senate."

"Lord Sidious has some influence in the senate? " Haako asked carefully.

But Sidious was too clever to take the bait.

"You will come to learn that there are many that do my bidding," he said.

"They understand, as you will understand, that they serve themselves best by serving me." Haako and Monchar traded quick looks.

"The ruling members of the Trade Federation Directorate are not likely to sanction spending hard-earned profits on droids," Monchar said. "As it is, they consider us Neimoidians to be unnecessarily suspicious."

"I am well aware of the opinions of your partners," Sidious rasped. "Be advised that foolish friends are no better than enemies."

"Nevertheless, they will oppose this arrangement."

"Then we will just have to find some way to convince them."

"He doesn't mean to sound unappreciative, Lord Sidious," Gunray apologized. "It's simply that... It's simply that we don't really know who you are, and what you are capable of providing. You could be a powerful Jedi, hoping to entrap us."

"A. Jedi" Sidious said. "Now you do mock me. But you will see that I am a forgiving master. As to your concerns about my ident.i.ty--my heritage, let us say--my actions will speak for me." The Neimoidians exchanged perplexed looks.

"What about the Jedi?" Haako asked. "They won't simply stand by."

"The Jedi will do only what the senate bids them to do," Sidious said.

"You are woefully mistaken if you believe they would jeopardize their lofty real estate on Coruscant to challenge the Trade Federation without Senate approval." Gunray glanced meaningfully at his advisors before replying. "We place ourselves in your hands, Lord Sidious." Sidious almost smiled. "I thought you might see things my way, Viceroy. I know that you will not fail me in the future." The apparition vanished as abruptly as it arrived, leaving the three Neimoidians to ponder the nature of the shadowy alliance they had just entered into.

Sunlight was a stranger to Coruscant. The sun set as ever, but so ambient was the light from the cityscape's forest of sky - sc.r.a.ping towers that true darkness was a thing that prowled only the deepest canyons, or was summoned with purpose by those residents who could afford blackout transparisteel. From s.p.a.ce, the planet's dark side sparkled like a finely wrought ornament strung with bioluminescent life-forms, such as might be displayed in an heirloom cabinet or a museum devoted to folk art.

The stars never appeared in the sky, except to those who resided in the tallest buildings. But stars of a different sort turned up nightly at Coruscant's celebrated entertainment complexes-- singers, performers, artists, and politicians. As a rule more faddish than the rest, the latter group had taken lately to attending the opera, following the lead of Supreme Chancellor Valorum, whose renowned family had been patrons of the arts for as long as anyone could remember.

In a galaxy boasting millions of species and a thousand times as many worlds, cultural arts were never in short supply. At any given moment a performance was debating somewhere on Coruscant. But few companies or troupes of any sort had the privilege of performing at the Coruscant Opera.

The building was a marvel of pre-Republic baroque, all frosting and embellishment, with an old-fas.h.i.+oned orchestra pit, tiered seating, and private balconies in the time-honored design.

As a nod to Coruscant's citizens, there was even a warren of lower-level galleries where common folks could view the performance via real-time hologram and pretend to be hobn.o.bbing with celebrities seated overhead.

The opera of the moment was The Brief Reign of Future Wraiths, a production that had originated on Corellia, but was being performed by a company of Bith, who had been touring the opera world to world for the past twenty standard years.

A bipedal species with large rounded craniums, lidless black eyes, receding noses, and baggy epidermal folds beneath their jaws, Bith were native to the outlying world of Clak'dor VII, and were known to perceive sounds as humans perceived colors.

Considering that it was Finis Valorum's parents who had underwritten Brief Reign to begin with, it was only fitting that the supreme chancellor be on hand for the opera's long-awaited return to Coruscant.

The mere fact that he would be attending had driven up the price of tickets and made them as difficult to procure as Adegan crystals. As a result, the building was more packed with luminaries than it had been in a long while.

As was customary, Valorum delayed his arrival, so as to ensure that he would be last to be seated.

Restless for a glance at him, the audience came to its feet in prolonged applause as he stepped onto the elaborate balcony that had been reserved for Valorum family members for well over five hundred years.

Eschewing his usual surround of blue-caped and helmeted Senate Guards, Valorum was accompanied only by his administrative aide, Sei Taria--in matching burgundy septsilk--a pet.i.te young woman half his age, with oblique eyes and skin the color of burrmillet grain.

In true Coruscant manner, rumors began circulating even before Valorum took his seat. But the Supreme Chancellor was inured to innuendo, not merely as an effect of his aristocratic upbringing, but also because of the fact that nearly every sectorial senator--marital status notwithstanding--had made it their practice to appear in public with attractive young consorts.

Valorum waved graciously and inclined his head in a show of benign sufferance. Then, before sitting down, he directed a second bow to a private balcony directly across the amphitheater.

The dozen or so prosperous-looking patrons in the balcony Valorum singled out returned the bow, and remained standing until Sei Taria was also seated-- no small feat for the owner of the box, Senator Orn Free Taa, who had grown so corpulent during his tenure on Coruscant that his bulk filled the s.p.a.ce of what had once been three separate seats.