Cloak Of Deception

But had he entered into a true partnership, or one in which Sidious would emerge as the Neimoidians' overlord? How long could a Sith Lord content himself with mere economic power? And what was likely to become of Viceroy Nute Gunray once Darth Sidious set his sights on a target more worthy of his dark expertise?

Already Deputy Viceroy Hath Monchar and Commander Dofine had aired their separate misgivings about the alliance- — scarcely realizing that the partnership had as much been forced on Gunray as offered to him.

The Sith Lord had promised that he would communicate with Gunray once more before the summit began. Perhaps, the viceroy hoped, all would then be revealed.

Havac and his cohort returned to the main room of the customs warehouse, and the distant rumble of spacecraft launches. The five mercenaries Cohl had assembled were sitting on the edges of the repulsorsleds that had borne them to the warehouse.

From the jittery way Havac moved, Lope knew that something unexpected had taken place. He jumped off the hovering sled to gaze down the corridor that led to the rear of the building.

"Where's Captain Cohl?" he asked Havac.

Above the scarf that swathed his face, Havac's eyes narrowed as he swung to face him. "Cohl went out the back way. But he sends his luck." Before anyone else could raise questions, he asked Lope, "What's your preferred weapon?" Lope took a second look down the corridor, then returned to the sleds. "Blades-of any length." Havac turned to one of the other humans.

"Yours?" he asked, in an increasingly confident voice.

"Sniper rifles." Havac glanced at the Gotal.

"I'm not a shooter. I'm a lookout." Havac studied the remaining pair of humans-a brutish — looking man and an equally rough-cut woman.

"No preferences," the man grunted.

"The same," the woman said.

Havac took a portable holoprojector from his pocket and set it atop an alloy cargo crate. Everyone gathered round as an image of a Classic-era building with a domed roof took shape in the cone of light.

"The site of the trade summit," Havac said, as the image began to rotate, showing tall, slender towers at each corner, and four principal entrances.

"The main hall is a rotunda, similar in design to the Galactic Senate, but on a much smaller scale and without the detachable balconies." Havac called up a panoramic view of the interior.

"True to their exaggerated sense of self-importance, the Eriadu delegation has placed itself at the center of the hall. The Coruscant delegation will occupy east-side tiers of seats-here- with the members of the Trade Federation Directorate in west — side tiers. Delegations representing the Core Worlds, the Inner Rim, and the outlying systems will be dispersed throughout the rest of the hall.

"In the event of trouble, the Trade Federation Directorate will be able to activate a force field. But Valorum's delegation is deliberately unshielded, as a show of good faith." The sniper scrutinized the image for a moment.

"Valorum is going to be a difficult target-even from the highest tier in the rotunda." "You'll be higher than that," Havac said. "The upper por-tion of the hall is a maze of maintenance walkways and gantries, along with booths designated for media personnel." "We'd have a better chance of hitting Valorum before he enters the building," Lope said.

"Perhaps," Havac conceded. "But the plan hinges on our ability to infiltrate the summit and do the job there." "Four entrances," the sniper said. "Which one is Valorum coming through?" Havac shook his head. "Unknown.

The route to the summit hall won't be revealed until the last possible instant, and we don't have anyone close enough to him to provide us with that data. That's why we need a spotter team on the outside." Havac conjured another image from the holoprojector, showing the older quarter of the city, where the summits of innumerable buildings merged into an extensive range of rounded rooftops and elegant towers.

"Eriadu security is trying to keep the rooftops clear, but there aren't enough repulsorlift vehicles to provide steady surveillance, especially in areas like this, where the roofs are all interconnected.

Instead, security is flying sweeps at regular intervals, concentrating their efforts on the buildings adjacent to the summit hall." Havac indicated one of the domed rooftops. "From here, there's a decent view of the four boulevards that lead to the summit hall's separate entrances. The spotters- was He pointed to Lope, the Gotal, and the woman. his-comw have just enough time to position yourvs on the roof between air sweeps. Access to the roof is through a safe house we maintain on Eriadu. The safe house will also serve as our rendezvous point after we're finished, or should something unforeseen occur beforehand. Valorum's hovercade will be easy to spot. As soon as you've ascertained the route, you'll communicate that information to the rest of us."

"Where will you be?" Lope demanded to know.

Havac turned to him. "The shooters will already be inside the hall, up in the walkways." "That'll be the first place security will look," the sniper groused. "I want something extra if I'm expected to hang myself out to dry."

Havac shook his head. "You'll receive the same as everyone else. We all have important parts to play in this." "Havac's right," Lope said. "If you don't like being the shooter, I'll take your place, and you take the rooftop surveillance. I don't like heights, anyway." The sniper glared at Lope. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it. I'm only asking how I'm supposed to get to the walkways." Havac motioned one of his alien confederates forward.

The Nikto placed a suitcase atop the same crate that supported the holoprojector and opened it. Havac lifted a jacket from the suitcase and handed it to the sniper.

"This will identify you as Eriadu security," he explained. "I'll provide you with the necessary documentation later. The point is, you'll be in the summit hall before any of the delegations arrive.

Once we've learned which entrance Valorum is coming through, you'll get into whatever position you deem best." The sniper folded the uniform jacket over his arm.

"When do I take the shot?" "The proceedings will commence with a series of three prolonged trumpet fanfares," Havac went on.

"Plan to fire at the start of the third fanfare." "Valorum will already be in his seat?" Havac nodded, as he brought back the image of the interior of the hall. "He will. But you're going to place your first bolt here." The sniper stared at the spot on the summit hall floor Havac had indicated, then gazed in puzzlement at Havac. "I don't get it.

Who's going to be there?" "No one." "No one," the sniper repeated, then began to shake his head. "I don't know where you're going with this, but I've got a reputation to uphold, and when I'm hired to shoot, I don't miss." Havac grumbled beneath his scarf. "All right, so choose a target. Wound someone."

Lope stepped forward. "I thought we had a target- Valorum." Havac confirmed it with a nod and glanced at everyone.

"But I don't want any of you doing the actual shooting." While Lope and the rest were trading looks, Havac deactivated the holoprojector and set it aside. At the same time, a pair of Bith began to open the alloy crate the device had been sitting on, and slid from it a boxlike tangle of alloy limbs and a long cylinder of head.

"Meet the most important member of our team," Havac said. "Built specially for us by the same company that supplies the Trade Federation with its security droids." Taking a small remote control from his pocket, he entered a code into the touchpad, and a battle droid unfolded into an upright posture, its arms at its side and a blaster rifle mounted alongside its backpack. The Nikto pried a restraining bolt from the chest plastron of the alm-two-meter-tall droid and stepped to the side.

The restraining bolt hit the floor and rolled beneath the closest repulsorsled.

Havac keved in another code.

Instantly, the droid reached over its shoulder for the blaster rifle.

With matching speed, the mercenaries reacted by adopting defensive positions and drawing their own weapons.

"Settle down," Havac said loudly, gesturing with his hands.

Again, he keyed the remote. When the battle droid had returned the rifle to its mounting, Havac began to circle it.

"It's harmless," he assured everyone, "unless I tell it to be otherwise."

The Gotal was the only one who hadn't reholstered his weapon. "I can't work with a droid," he said angrily. "Their energy waves overload my senses."

"You're not going to have to work with it," Havac said.

"It's also going to be inside the hall." Lope and the sniper swapped concerned glances.

"Who's leading him in?" Lope asked.

"The Trade Federation." The sniper worked his square jaw. "Are you telling me that the droid is the actual shooter?" Havac nodded.

"Then why do you have me shooting at the floor?" "Because your bolt is going to touch off a chain of events that will allow our alloy teammate here to execute his commands." Havac regarded the droid.

"It doesn't need a control computer. But it does need to perceive a threat before it can be tasked." Lope started shaking his head. "You want this to end up looking like it was the Trade Federation that killed Valorum." The rest of the mercenaries stared at Havac.

"You object to that?" "Captain Cohl said that this was going to be a straight forward job," the sniper protested. "He didn't say anything about the Trade Federation." "Captain Cohl wasn't briefed on the full extent of the plan," Havac replied coolly.

"There was no point risking a leak." Lope forced a short laugh. "I guess we can appreciate that, Havac. But the fact is, if word gets out that we helped set up the Trade Federation…" "They've got a longer reach than the Republic, Havac," the sniper took over. "They'll have every bounty hunter from Coruscant to Tatooine after us.

And I, for one, don't want to have to spend the rest of my days hiding in a hole somewhere." Havac showed everyone a stony look. "Let's be clear about this. We're going to have to outwit Eriadu security, Republic judicials, and Jedi Knights just to pull this off. And, sure, you might have to buy off some bounty hunters when we're done. But all that means is simply living up to your reputations. If any of you don't think you're up to that, now is the time to say so." Lope glanced at the sniper, then at the Gotal, then at Havac's several human and alien confederates, and back at the sniper again.

"It's settled?" Havac asked, breaking the long silence.

Lope nodded. "Just one more question, Havac. Where will you be during all this?" "Where I can watch over all of you," he said, and let it go at that.

From the tile mosaic floor of the summit hall, Qui-Gon peered up at the tiers of seats, the banks of ornate, arch-topped windows, and, high overhead, the media booths and maintenance walkways.

He rotated through a full circle, his gaze taking in groups of droids inspecting the hall's several hundred video monitors, and teams of judicials and security personnel moving through the tiers with leashed beasts that sniffed, tasted, and probed the stale air.

In that quarter of the hall designated for the Coruscant delegation, Masters Tiin and Ki-Adi-Mundi were snaking among the seats, open to the slightest disturbances in the Force.

Elsewhere in the rotunda, Adi Gallia and Vergere were doing the same, stretching out with their feelings, in the hope of discovering some indication of what Havac and Cohl's assassins had planned for the summit.

Agape in four directions, and perforated by its many windows, the hall was a security nightmare.

Worse, Eriadu had decreed the summit open not only to delegates, but also to Holoationet reporters, assorted dignitaries and veterans groups, musicians, corporate representatives, and just about anyone with a modicum of authority or influence. So many diverse species were expected to attend-each with their individual entourages of aides, attendants, translators, and security guards- that it was going to be near impossible to determine who was legitimate and who wasn't.

Qui-Gon turned through another circle. The Eriadu delegation had granted itself the center of the floor, with Supreme Chancellor Valorum to their left, and the Trade Federation Directorate to their right. The Commerce Guild and the Techno Union had an arc of seats between the two, buffered by delegations from the Core and the outlying systems.

Qui-Gon's eyes were drawn once more to the overhead walkways and gantries, many of which supported arrays of spotlights and acoustic devices.

Snipers could be placed almost at will, he told himself. Assas-sins without regard for their own lives could inflict incalculable injury.

"Do you sense anything, Master?" Obi-Wan asked from behind him.

"Only that we are fighting something unseen, Obi-Wan. Each time we draw close to identifying our adversary, it subverts and evades us." "Then it isn't Captain Cohl?" Qui-Gon shook his head. "There is an organizing hand at work here-one that moves Cohl about as effortlessly as it moves us." "Not this Havac." Qui-Gon pondered it momentarily, then shook his head again. "It has no name that I know, Padawan.

Perhaps the mystery owes to nothing more than my inability to see beyond the moment. What do you feel?" Obi-Wan's expression became serious. "I feel that we're close to resolving this, Master." Qui-Gon touched him on the shoulder. "That's comforting to hear." Adi Gallia and Vergere stepped down to the first tier to speak with them.

"Security assures us that the entry scanners are capable of detecting explosives, along with weapons-regardless of their composition," Adi said.

"Guards will be stationed on the floor of the hall, and circulating up top, along the walkways.

Security units and other droids will provide continuous surveillance of the roof areas." "That may hamper Cohl from initiating an attack here," Qui- Gon replied, "but what about outside the hall?" "The Supreme Chancellor's route will be determined wascomputer, at the last moment." "I'd rather that the route be by skycar to the rooftop pad." Adi shook her head negatively.

"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. He insists on arriving by ground-effect vehicle. We'll have to trust in the same precautions that safeguarded him on the route from the spaceport to Lieutenant Governor Tarkin's compound." "Qui-Gon!" Master Tiin called out suddenly.

Qui-Gon turned to find him and Ki-Adi-Mundi hurrying across the floor toward them.

"Captain Cohl's freighter has been found," Tiin continued. "The Corellian freighter. Ten customs agents were found tied up in the rear cabin." Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan swapped brief looks. "How do they know it's the one Cohl piloted here?" "The navicomputer indicates that the ship jumped to Eriadu from Karfeddion space," Ki-Adi-Mundi explained.

"Cohl must have piloted the customs agents' ship to the surface," Qui-Gon surmised.

Tiin nodded as he came to a halt in front of Qui-Gon. "The customs ship has been located at the spaceport." "We should see for ourselves," Obi-Wan said in a rush. Then he stopped himself and regarded Tiin.

"What prompted anyone to conduct a search of the freighter?" Tiin appeared to have anticipated the question, along with Qui-Gon's look of wary concern.

"The authorities received an anonymous lead." c ohl's eyelids fluttered, then snapped open.

Boiny's blood — smeared face swam unfocused in his gaze. He felt nauseated and wired. He knew that he should be in great pain, but he was only vaguely aware of his body. Boiny had obviously dosed him with pain blockers.

Cohl tasted blood in his mouth, and something else-the syrupy astringency of bacta.

Boiny's features began to sharpen and come into focus.

A blaster bolt had burned a deep furrow in the left side of the Rodian's greenish skull. The wound glistened with freshly applied bacta, but Cohl doubted that the miracle substance would prevail.

His memory made a hurried return. He gave a start and tried to sit up.

"Wait, Captain," Boiny said. His voice was weak and raspy. "Rest for a moment." Cohl paid him no mind. He pushed himself upright, and immediately fell face first to the hard floor. He heard the tip of his nose crack and felt a trickle of blood course down over his mustache and drip onto his lower lip.

He began to drag himself across the floor, to where Rella's body lay unmoving-unmoving and cold when he stretched out his hand and grazed her face with his fingertips.

Boiny was suddenly beside him again.

"She's dead, Captain," he said, anguished.

"By the time I came to, there was nothing I could do." Cohl crawled the final meter to Rella. He threw his right arm over her shoulders, tugging her to him and weeping quietly for a long moment.

"You had to come back," he said quietly, between sobs.

Then he rolled over and glared at Boiny.

"You should have let me die." Boiny had clearly anticipated his rage.

"If you were close to dying, I might have been able to do that." He tugged Cohl's ragged shirt aside to expose the thick armorply garment beneath.

"The vest absorbed most of the charge, but you have internal injuries." He glanced at Cohl's tattered left thigh, then leaned over to examine his forehead.

"I did the best I could with your other wounds." Cohl raised his hand to his head. The bolt from Rella's blaster had burned away all the hair on the right side of his head and left a wound every bit as deep and ragged as the one that trenched Boiny's skull.

"Where'd you find-was "An emergency medkit in a cabinet by the door.

The bacta patches are a couple of months expired, but they probably have enough potency to sustain us for a while." Cohl passed the back of his hand under his nose, then took a stuttering breath. "Your head…" "Fractured, as well as burned. But I gave myself a healthy measure of the pain blockers I fed you. I came close to overdosing myself. But at least I'm seeing only one of you now." Cohl managed to sit up. Glancing around the room, he spied the man he had killed lying faceup on the floor, exactly where the blaster had dropped him. Otherwise, the room was empty. He looked back at Boiny.

"Why didn't they finish us?" "This wasn't supposed to happen. I figure that Havac panicked." Cohl thought about it for a moment. "No. The Jedi are on to us. He wants us to be found." He paused briefly, then added, "But he isn't fool enough to believe I'd keep quiet about this mission, out of some misguided sense of honor." "I'll wager that he's counting on the fact that you won't betray Lope and the others." Cohl nodded slowly. "Havac read me right.

But he's going to regret not killing me when he had the chance." With visible effort, he raised himself up on his uninjured right knee. "Are any of them still in the warehouse?" "Only the customs agents secured in the corridor. The cargo bay is deserted." Cohl extended his arm to the Rodian. "Help me up." He winced as Boiny tugged him to his feet.

Gingerly, he planted his left foot on the floor and nearly collapsed.

"I'm going to need a crutch." "I'll fix you up with something," Boiny said.

Cohl balanced on his good leg. He thought his heart might burst if he looked at Rella again, but he forced his gaze downward nevertheless.

"Some of us were born to be betrayed," he whispered.

"I can't make

up to you, Rella. But I can try with everything I've got left to avenge you." Supported on the crutch the Rodian had fashioned from a length of pipe and a cloth-padded brace of plasteel, Cohl followed Boiny out into the corridor. The bound and blindfolded customs agents were scarcely aware of them as they moved stealthily toward the warehouse's spaceport entrance. The female agent whose uniform Rella had taken remained unconscious from the shot Boiny had given her aboard the ship.

The front room was loud with the noise of launches and landings, despite the roll-away doors being closed. The repulsorsleds were still hovering a meter off the sawdust-strewn floor, and everything else was much as Cohl remembered it.

Boiny studied the room for a moment, then walked to the center of the floor, two meters from the lead sled.

"There was a cargo crate here." Cohl eyed the telltale marks in the sawdust.

"Too large for a weapon's crate." Looking around, the two of them spotted the portable holoprojector at the same time. It was resting on the retracted landing strut of one of the sleds. Boiny reached it first. Setting it atop the sled, he activated it. Cohl limped over as the device was beginning to cycle through its stored images.

"The summit hall," he said, in response to the 3-D image of the majestic dome-roofed building, and the mount it crowned.

Boiny allowed the images to cycle again, pausing the device when it displayed a remote view of the wooded mount, and the four broad avenues that terminated at the hall.

"The vantage from the cluster of rooftops we saw earlier," Boiny said, already initiating a reverse scan through the images. "Havac could be planning to attack Valorum before he arrives at the summit." Cohl tugged at what was left of his beard while he considered it. He gestured to the holoprojector.

"He didn't forget to take this.

He wanted it to be found-just the way he wanted us to be found."

Abruptly, Boiny ducked down beneath one of the repulsorsleds. "Here's something he probably doesn't expect to be found," he said as he was standing up.

Cohl narrowed his eyes at the stubby metallic cylinder Boiny showed him.

"A restraining bolt?" "But an uncommon variety." Boiny brought the bolt to eye level. "Similar to the ones we fired into the security droids aboard the Revenue, but altered to suit a more advanced droid. Maybe a combat model."

"Havac has a droid," Cohl said, mostly to himself. His eyes searched the floor. "Could that be what was in the crate? Or is this one restraining bolt of a bunch?" Boiny adopted a skeptical look. "The Nebula Front employing droids? That can't be right." He regarded the bolt again. "One thing is certain, Captain. This bolt has already been in a droid. I can see the impressions left by whatever tool pried it out." Cohl took the bolt and clenched his hand around it.

"I warned Havac that someone in the Nebula Front had informed the Judicial Department about our plans to attack the Revenue.

Suppose he decided to take extra precautions when planning this operation." Cohl looked at Boiny. "Havac said that the Front had lured the Jedi to Asmeru. That could mean that the attempt on Valorum's life on Coruscant was a ruse, designed to divert attention from Eriadu." "Right,"

Boiny said uncertainly.

Cohl glanced at the holoprojector. "Havac leaves us and the holoprojector to be discovered by the authorities…" He grinned wickedly. "I'm not sure how Havac plans to do it, Boiny. But I think I know what he's planning to do."

"Captain?" the Rodian said in confusion.

Cohl shoved the restraining bolt into his breast pocket and began to limp toward the corridor.

Boiny followed him, gesturing back to the holoprojector. "Shouldn't I at least delete this thing?" Cohl shook his head. "Hide it in plain sight, just as Havac did. The only way we're going to get to him is by making sure that everyone else keeps chasing their own tails." Outside the front entrance to Lieutenant Governor Tarkin's palatial residence, Valorum, Sei Taria, and the rest of the Coruscant delegation waited for their caravan of repulsorlift vehicles to arrive.

Fashionable tunics and brocaded cloaks were once again the order of the day, except in the case of security personnel, who were nearly as numerous as the diplomats.

"I trust that your stay with us has been pleasant," Tarkin was saying to Valorum.

"Very pleasant," Valorum replied. "Permit me to extend the same courtesy to you, should you ever visit Coruscant." Tarkin smiled without showing his teeth. "I hope, Supreme Chancellor, that Coruscant will one day be a second home to me. All the Core, in fact, from Coruscant to Alderaan." "I'm certain it will." The captain of the Senate Guard detail approached with a durashcct in hand. In place of the customary ceremonial rifle, a state-of-the-art blaster was slung over his shoulder.

"We have the hovercade route, Supreme Chancellor." "May I have a look at it?" Tarkin asked.

The guard looked to Valorum for permission.

"Let him see it." Tarkin perused the durasheet. "A bit circuitous- perhaps needlessly so. But we should have no problem arriving at the summit hall by the appointed time." He glanced down the long drive that led to the mansion. "The governor should be here momentarily. Then we can all depart."

Tarkin was about to add something, when a landspeeder leapt into view, making fast for where he and Valorum were standing.

"What now?" Tarkin asked as the two-seater pulled up to the house and came to a halt.

Absent their Jedi cloaks, Adi Gallia and Saesee Tiin climbed from the hovering vehicle and made straight for Valorum. Tiin did the talking.

"Supreme Chancellor, there is a problem. We have confirmation that assassins contracted by the Nebula Front have breached Eriadu security. Qui- Gon Jinn and several other Jedi have gone to the spaceport, in the hope of intercepting them." "The danger is no longer conjectural, Supreme Chancellor,"

Adi said earnestly.

Valorum's forehead wrinkled in apprehension. "I want them found," he said at last. "I will not have the summit interrupted." Tiin and Adi nodded. "Will you now consent to our accompanying you!" Tiin asked.

"No," Valorum said flatly. "Appearances must be maintained." Adi looked hard at him. "Then will you at least agree to keeping your vehicle's force field ena4?" "I absolutely insist on it," Tarkin interjected. "It is Eriadu's obligation to assure that no harm comes to you." With obvious reluctance, Valorum nodded.

"Until we've reached the grounds of the summit hall." His face blushed with sudden anger, Tarkin swung to a group of Eriadu security guards, who were standing behind him. "See to it that the streets are cleared.

Arrest anyone you have cause to suspect. Don't concern yourvs with legalities. Take whatever steps are necessary." Eriadu security agents were already on the scene by the time Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Vergere, and Ki-Adi-Mundi reached the customs warehouse.

One human agent was aiming a scanning device at several repulsorsleds parked just inside the entrance, still supporting a dozen tall and narrow cargo containers, whose opened hatches revealed them to be empty. Elsewhere in the large space, a group of infuriated customs agents were being interrogated.

The uniformed human commander of the security detail entered from a dimly lighted corridor. Behind him moved two green-scaled and chitin-sheathed insectoid bipeds, with large black eyes, short ridged snouts, and toothless mouths.

Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan's jaw go slack.

"Verpine," he explained. "Organs in the chest enable the species to communicate by means of radio waves. But they can also speak and understand Basic, with the assistance of translator devices. Their keen senses make them brilliant at detail work." "Verpine," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head in wonder.

Seeing the four Jedi, the commander approached, while the pair of aliens set about scrutinizing the sawdust-covered floor.

Qui-Gon introduced himself and the others.

"We have two dead humans in the rear room," the commander said, after giving Vergere the same look Obi-Wan had given the Verpine trackers. "One male, one female, each dead of blaster bolts fired at close range, but from different weapons.

Carbon scoring on the floor and walls indicate a full-scale blaster fight. Blood spots show that at least one of the combatants who got away was a Rodian. Bacta patches, synthflesh, and who knows what else is missing from the room's medkit. We're waiting for results on finger — and handprint analysis."

"Captain Cohl's partner is a Rodian," Qui-Gon said.

The commander made note of it on a datapad, then pointed to the group of customs agents. "They were taken by surprise by no less than eight heavily armed assailants, most of them human, but at least four Nikto and a couple of Bith.

"After the surprise raid, they were stashed in the corridor, so they can't provide much in the way of additional information. But the woman, there, is chief officer of the customs ship the terrorists commandeered.

She identified the dead female in the back room as captain of the Corellian freighter she boarded.

She's still a bit dazed from a knockout injection, but she says she also saw a Rodian, and she thinks she remembers seeing a Gotal and a couple of human males.

"Everyone appears to have left the warehouse through a rear door that opens onto the spaceport service road. We're assuming that they're piloting skimmers or landspeeders." The commander stepped toward the center of the room and gestured broadly. "Everything here is just as we found it, except that little piece of hardware, which we discovered beneath one of the sleds." Qui- Gon and the other Jedi followed his finger to a portable holoprojector, sitting atop a cargo crate.

"Whatever else he is, Cohl is not careless," Qui-Gon said.

"Deliberate is the way we're reading it, too.

But even professionals have been known to make mistakes." The commander walked over to the holoprojector. He was about to activate it, when one of his assistants intruded.

"Commander, the Verpine say that there are signs of well over a dozen men, several of whom arrived inside these tall containers. At some point, most of them gathered around what must have been a crate, just over here, perhaps to observe whatever images the holoprojector contains. Among them was a Gotal, who also arrived inside one of the containers. Bits of fur were found inside the second-to-last container, and also on the floor there, in large amounts."

"A tussle?" the commander asked.

"Could be, sir. Gotals have a tendency to shed when they're taken by surprise or frightened." "What would have frightened him?" "No telling, sir."

The commander glanced up from his datapad. "Anything else?" "The prints leading down the corridor and back.

One pair is certainly Rodian. The blood in the rear room explains why the Rodian was walking unsteadily when he returned to this room. The one who accompanied him back here wasn't doing very well either, judging by the fact that he was supporting the left side of himself on a crutch, improvised from a length of pipe. Footprints of the two walking wounded are all over this room.

The Rodian retrieved something from underneath one of the hoversleds, but we can't be sure what that was-unless it was the holoprojector. Evidence suggests that the pair left by the rear door, same as the others, but they were on foot, at least until they reached the pub-trans booth on the corner."

The commander finished his note taking and looked at Qui — Gon. "All this give you any insights?" "Captain Cohl, the Rodian, and the woman must have been ambushed in the rear room." "Ambushed? By Havac?" Qui-Gon nodded.

"Havac thought all three were dead?" "No, he expected us to find Cohl and the Rodian alive." "Why would he risk that?" the commander asked.

Qui-Gon looked at him. "Because he wants to throw us off the scent." The commander scratched his head in thought.

Obi-Wan slid the holoprojector toward him.

"Let's see what we find in here." L ope peered through the small doorway that led to the roof of the Nebula Front's safe house in the southern part of the city. A security craft made a low pass from the south, continuing on in the direction of the summit hall.

"Right on schedule," he told the five human and alien terrorists crouching on the stairs below him.

"We have ten minutes." The Gotal squeezed by him and scampered out onto the roof, his ringed horns twitching as they monitored the hazy air for portents.

Five meters from the doorway, the Gotal flashed Lope an all — clear sign and disappeared behind the first of the many domed rooftops they would need to traverse before attaining a clear view of the summit hall.

Lope and the rest hurried outside, rounding the same dome that now concealed the Gotal. On his hip, Lope wore a sheathed vibroblade, and on his wrist, a rocket launcher. The others carried both in-close weapons and blasters.

Beyond the first dome, the expanse of interconnected roofs was a terrain of spherical hills and steep peaks, cut through with shallow ravines and washes.

Octagonal towers, slender steeples, and antenna arrays rose above the domes like isolated trees.

The diverse domes resembled the knobbed lids of giant cook pots. Some buildings were topped by long barrel vaults, and others with hip roofs, covered with tile or slate. Small houses with tiny windows graced the few level sections.

With the Gotal at point, they began to move at a steady clip, worming through tight meanders, negotiating precipitous ledges, and leaping to adjacent rooftops. Their mimetic suits allowed them to blend with the gray roof tiles, reddish bricks, and acid — rain-stained domes.

They scaled a tall roof and dropped down into a hollow formed by a quartet of contiguous domes. Then they edged around a massive cupola that gave them their first unobstructed view of the summit hall. East of the domed building was a range of high hills, shrouded in particle-laden haze. Far to the north, a broad river emptied itself into a slender projection of the sea.

A long stretch of flat roof ran all the way to the final dome, below which two streets joined to become a broad boulevard that arrived ultimately at the summit hall mount.

They were halfway across the flat roof when sounds of a commotion reached them from street level. Forging through his fear of heights, Lope crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down over the low retaining wall.

Squads of riot-control security troops were rerouting ground traffic and dispersing bystanders who had gathered for a glimpse of whatever dignitaries might pass by.

In a building across the street, people drew curtains over their windows or pulled shutters closed. From slowly cruising landspeeders, announcements blared in half a dozen languages, threatening dire consequences for anyone caught on the rooftops or found loitering in restricted areas around the summit hall.

Lope saw a hovercade approaching from the south and waved for one of Havac's men to join him at the wall. The convoy of ten repulsorlift vehicles was being escorted by as many speeder bikes piloted by helmeted police.

Havac's man trained electrobinoculars on the fifth vehicle in line.

"Valorum," he uttered in a hushed voice. "Eriadu's governor and lieutenant governor are with him." Lope asked for the electrobinoculars.

"Your boss should have listened to reason and let us hit Valorum here."

He patted the rocket launcher strapped to his right wrist. "One shot with this and the job would be done." Havac's confederate took back the electrobinoculars. "For the moment, Havac's your boss, too. Besides, Valorum's riding under the protection of an energy shield. Now, get on the comlink and inform the team at the summit hall that the target will be arriving through the south gate." Lope crawled back to where the others were waiting, and removed a small comlink from his pocket.

"Valorum's right below us," he explained.

He activated the comlink and keyed in the number Havac had given him, but all he got for his efforts was an earful of static. "You need to get above some of these antenna arrays," the Gotal suggested. "Try from the top of the big dome." Lope nodded. Jogging in a crouch to the base of the dome, he began his ascent. But he was just short of the ornamented summit when he heard engine noise behind him. Over his shoulder, he saw three airspeeders approaching rapidly from the direction of the summit hall.

He slid down the dome and hurried back to the others. "Hover patrol headed our way." The woman Cohl had hired glanced at her wrist timer. "It's too soon for them to be making another sweep." Everyone hunkered down as the blunt-nosed hovers sped overhead. But the trio of vehicles went only a short distance before coming about for a second pass.

"They spotted us," the Gotal said.

Lope armed the rocket launcher. "We can remedy that." Raising his right forearm, he fixed his sights on the lead vehicle.

From the passenger seat of an airspeeder, all of Eriadu City looked the same. That, at least, was Qui-Gon's considered opinion after more than an hour of searching the city from above for the location of the roofscape image stored in Havac's holoprojector.

Bisected by a slow-moving, muddy river, the city was a confusion of domes, interior courtyards, and precarious towers, cleaved by narrow streets and a few broad avenues. Dwellings were built on top of one another in haphazard fashion, sprouting annexes here and additional levels there, extending from the bay clear to the barricade of hills at the city's back.

It was little wonder that none of the security officers had been able to identify the span of roofs Havac's holoprojector had singled out. When a quick study of 2-D maps had only complicated matters, copies of the stored image had been fed into the terrain — following computers of three airspeeders, in the hope that a series of overflights would allow the computers to match the image to an actual roofscape. But flights to the north and to the east of the summit hall had failed to yield even a possible match.

Qui-Gon continued to believe that Havac had wanted the holoprojector to be found, but he wasn't willing to take the chance that Havac's leaving the device behind hadn't constituted a genuine oversight.

Just now the trio of airspeeders was approximately two kilometers south of the summit hall.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were passengers in the lead vehicle, trailed by Ki- Adi-Mundi and Vergere in the second, and two judicials in the third.

Gazing down over the speeder's starboard gunwale, Qui — Gon thought he glimpsed movement on one of the rooftops. But when he shielded his eyes with the edge of his hand and looked again, all he saw was what might have been heat shimmer at the base of a slender brick tower.

He reached out through the Force.

At the same instant the speeder's terrain-following computer began to chirp repeatedly, indicating that it had matched the image. The computer's screen displayed the stored image superimposed on the roofscape directly below. Pivoting in his seat, Qui-Gon saw Ki-Adi-Mundi wave a sign of acknowledgment that the computer of the second airspeeder has also discovered the match.

The Eriadu security officer at the controls banked the airspeeder through a sweeping turn and was headed back toward the stretch of roofs when the craft's threat assessor suddenly added its voice to the steady chirping of the terrain-following computer.

"Missile lock!" the pilot said in astonishment.

Obi-Wan leaned over the side of the craft and pointed to something below.

"There, Master!" Qui-Gon caught sight of the small rocket and realized at once that it had been launched from the base of the tower, just where he had detected movement moments earlier.

The pilot dropped the airspeeder into an abrupt dive, prepared to execute another maneuver should the missile home in on them, but the rocket stayed true to its original course. Narrowly missing the rear of the craft, it exploded high overhead, raining shrapnel on the airspeeder, which came about and shot for the source of the fire.

"Movement below," the pilot said, glancing at one of the scanner displays. "I count six figures." Obi-Wan raised himself out of his seat. "I don't see anyone." "Mimetic suits," Qui-Gon said. He swung to the pilot. "Find a place to set us down." Another rocket streaked into the sky, detonating between the second and third airspeeders.

"Targets are headed south," the pilot said.

Qui-Gon let his eyes roam over the varied domes and high roofs. Emerging from a narrow cleft between two domes, three humans came briefly into view, only to disappear against a background of roof tiles.

The pilot steered the airspeeder for the top of a long barrel vault and let the craft settle down.

Blaster bolts began to whiz past the fuselage and ricochet erratically from the vault's arched walls.

Lightsabers ignited, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan leapt over the gunwales. Hitting the vault, they somersaulted through the air for the flat area below. Some distance behind, KiAdiMundi, Vergere, and the two judicials hit the roof running.

In a blur of motion, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bolted to the end of the flat roof, wound between several domes, and covered a length of sheer ledge without a moment's hesitation. Side by side, and with blaster bolts darting beneath them, they hopped across an interior courtyard and continued the chase without breaking stride.

The terrorists were retreating deeper into the sinuous topography. Qui- Gon pursued a pair of fleetingly visible figures, ultimately bounding far ahead of them. With lightsaber raised, he waited for them to rush directly into his path.

Is bar bar His green blade hissed and thrummed as it sliced through the air, deflecting a dozen blaster bolts-along with a hurled blaster to top it off. Perceiving the direction of the pair's revised retreat, Qui-Gon dropped both of them with a Force push.

The two judicials arrived in time to pounce on the terrorists, before their mimetic suits had a chance to reenergize.

Sensing something behind him, Qui-Gon whirled, but not quickly enough. A meter-long vibroblade secured to the fist of a nearly indiscernible assailant pierced the right side of his brown cloak, just missing his ribs. Qui-Gon spun through a full turn, slashing diagonally with his lightsaber and halving the vibroblade.

The terrorist scampered to the center of the roof, where the brick wall of a small dwelling afforded him better camouflage, and drew a blaster.

Qui-Gon rushed forward, evading blaster bolts, then moving in to grapple hand to hand with a human of similar size.

A hail of bolts tore past Qui-Gon's left ear as he threw his quarry to the roof. Two more bolts singed his long hair in their passing. He leapt to the right and rolled for cover. Drawing on the Force, he coaxed a slate tile loose from the dwelling's peaked roof. The tile slipped from the grasp of its fasteners, shot spinning through space, and clipped the terrorist in the side of the head, felling him instantly.

Qui-Gon rushed in, grabbing a handful of the mimetic suit and tearing it from the man's prone body. Its circuitry interrupted, the suit failed and the wearer became visible.

Qui-Gon determined that the terrorist would be unconscious long enough for the judicials to find him.

Off to his left, he spied Vergere leaping from dome to dome, as if she were wearing a rocket pack. Following after her, he saw that the Fosh and Ki- Adi-Mundi were closing on a Gotal, whose mimetic suit couldn't camouflage the trail of shed fur he was leaving.

He glanced around for Obi-Wan and found him standing at the base of a large dome, atop a wall that enclosed a deep courtyard. Qui-Gon was headed toward him, when he spied an indistinct shape sliding down the steep curve of the dome. The shape collided with Obi-Wan and sent him flailing over the edge of the building.

Qui-Gon dashed forward, holding his lightsaber at hip level, then flicking the blade upward when he reached the spot where he predicted the terrorist would land.

A pained cry rang out, and a right arm flashed into visibility and went sailing over the edge of the roof. Disa4, the mimetic suit phased out, revealing a howling human female, down on her knees, her left hand gripped on what remained of her severed right arm.

Qui-Gon rushed to the wall, hoping to find that Obi-Wan had found a soft spot to land. Instead, an airspeeder rose out of the courtyard, with Obi-Wan clinging by one hand to the craft's aft starboard stabilizer.

The airspeeder gently deposited Obi-Wan on the roof next to Qui-Gon.

Nearby, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Vergere, the two judicials, and a couple of Eriadu security officers were securing the six terrorists that had been captured.

Neither Havac nor Cohl were among them.

"That was quite a stunt, Padawan," Qui-Gon said.

"I guess you would rather have found me dangling by my teeth, Master."

Qui-Gon showed him a perplexed look.

"The thought-puzzle Master Anoon Bondara put to his students on the day we spoke with Luminara," Obi-Wan explained. "About the man dangling by his teeth from the strut of a skimmer over a treacherous pit." "I remember now,"

Qui-Gon said, with sudden interest.

Obi-Wan blew out his breath. "After much though, I decided that the skimmer is meant to be the Force, and that the pit represents the dangers that await any of us who stray from the path." "And what of the lost travelers who asked for help?" "Well, on the one hand, travelers-even when they've lost their way-should know better than to ask questions of a man dangling by his teeth over a treacherous pit. But, more important, the travelers were merely distractions that the man should ignore, if he is to remain in the Force."

"Distractions," Qui-Gon murmured.

He thought back to the attempt on Valorum's life, the events on Asmeru, and the evidence that had been discovered in the customs warehouse.

Qui-Gon clapped Obi-Wan on both shoulders. "You've helped me see something that has been eluding me." He glanced at the half-dozen terrorists.

"There's little more we can do here. Hurry now, Padawan, Havac's scheme is afoot." "Where are we going, Master?" "Where we were meant to go from the beginning." The scene outside the south entrance to the summit hall was chaotic, with mobs of onlookers and security personnel milling about, and media reporters jostling for close-ups with their holocams and recorders.

Cordons of body-armored police fought to keep the masses from pressing too close, as vehicles ranging from the most primitive to the most luxurious conveyed delegates to the porte cochere that hooded the entrance. Judicials circulated through the crowd, trying not to be obvious, despite the communicator beads in their ears and the sophisticated comlinks on their wrists, while Jedi Knights, with their brown cloaks and belt-mounted lightsabers, made themselves all too obvious.

"I don't see a hope of getting inside," Boiny said to Cohl, at the leading edge of the crowd.

"Even if we managed to reach the door, we'd never be able to slip any hardware past the weapons scanners." The two of them were wearing loose- fitting robes, sandals, and turbans that concealed their head wounds.

Cohl had found himself an actual crutch made of a lightweight alloy, but he was weaker than when he and the Rodian had made their hasty departure from the customs warehouse. Both were surviving on bacta patches and periodic injections of pain blockers.

Cohl gazed up at the summit hall. In addition to the security guards posted at the entrance, there were sharpshooters in the towers that stood at the corners of the enormous building.

"Let's have a look at some of the other entrances," he said, quietly and short of breath.

They began a circular zigzag around the grounds.

The west and north entrances were no less crowded or confused, but the east entrance wasn't nearly as mobbed, or as well guarded.

Waiting to be admitted were administrative aides and freelance translators, protocol and service droids, an ensemble of drummers and trumpeters sporting tall helmets and garish uniforms, and mixed-species groups representing the Rights of Sentience League and the Association of Free Trade Worlds, among others.

"Strictly second-tier attendees," Boiny remarked.

"Our kind of folks." Cohl nodded with his chin, indicating that they should saunter down the long line.

Part way along, announcing themselves with a colorful banner, waited a hundred or so veterans of the Stark Hyperspace Conflict. A brief though bloody conflict that had erupted twelve years earlier, it had been fought largely on worlds where bacta was scarce or too expensive.

Consequently, many of the veterans, human and alien alike, still showed gruesome scars, patches of horribly puckered or wrinkled flesh, and missing limbs or tails. Paralyzed as a result of disrupter fire or electromagnetic detonations, a few were confined to repulsorlift chairs and sleds.

It was the latter group that caught Cohl's attention.

"I think we've found our way inside," he told Boiny.

Centered in the 180-457ree arc of tiered seats that separated the Coruscant delegation from the Trade Federation Directorate, Senator Palpatine sat with Sate Pestage, Kinman Doriana, and others, in the section designated for the Naboo system.

Palpatine had angled himself to the left, in order to watch the seven members of the directorate assume their seats. Flanking the four humans, the Sullustan, the Gran, and the Neimoidian, contingents of security droids stood with blaster rifles affixed to their squarish backpacks, like skeletal sentinels of death.

Palpatine was so engrossed that he failed to observe the approach of Senator Orn Free Taa, despite the fact that the bloated Rutian Twi'lek had arrived by means of a repulsorlift chair, with his retinue of attaches and aides trailing behind him like servants.

"An impressive showing," Taa said to Palpatine, glancing around the resplendent hall as he lowered his chair to the floor. "Delegates from Sullust, Clak'dor, the Senex sector, Malastare, Falleen, Bothawui… Why even some of the Hutt worlds are represented." Taa paused to track Palpatine's gaze to the Trade Federation section. "Ah, the objects of everyone's fascination."

"Assuredly," Palpatine said in a distracted way.

"How like the directorate to bring droids-though I suppose it makes little difference whether one chooses Jedi Knights or droids. I have heard, however, that the directorate also insisted on a shield projector." "Yes, I heard the same." Taa regarded Palpatine for a long moment.

"Senator, permit me to say that you seem somewhat preoccupied." Palpatine finally swiveled in his chair to face Taa. "In point of fact, I have just received some rather distressing news from my home system. It seems that Naboo's King Veruna has abdicated the throne." Taa's massive head-tails twitched. "I…

I must confess, Senator, that I don't know whether to feel sorry or glad for you. But where exactly does this leave you, in any case? Is there some danger of your being recalled?" "That remains to be seen," Palpatine said.

"Naboo will have an acting regent until elections are held." "Who is in the running to replace Veruna?" "That, too, remains to be seen." "Dare I inquire as to your hope?" Palpatine shrugged lightly. "Only for someone enthusiastic about opening Naboo to the galaxy.

Someone less-how shall I put it? — traditional than Veruna." A glint came into Taa's eyes. "Or more easily persuaded perhaps?" Before Palpatine could respond, a swell of agitation began to sweep through the hall. To all sides, heads were turning toward the south entrance.

Shortly, Supreme Chancellor Valorum and the rest of the Coruscant delegation appeared.

The hall responded with extended if merely cordial applause.

"He arrives," Taa said, as Valorum was being escorted to his seat. "But who is that with him? I recognize the sector governor, but not the lean and hungry-looking one beside him." "Lieutenant Governor Tarkin," Palpatine replied, while clapping his hands.

"Ah, yes-Tarkin. A bit of a throwback, isn't he? Very militant and authoritarian." "Power can turn even the meekest of bureaucrats into a raging manka cat." "Just so, just so. And speaking of that, Senator," Taa added in a conspiratorial tone, "do you recall the information I brought to your attention a while back, regarding Valorum family holdings here on Eriadu?"

"Vaguely. Something about a shipping company, wasn't it?" Taa nodded. "As you know, many small concerns are poised to see their market status considerably advanced as a result of Valorum's taxation proposal, and also as a consequence of investments from Core worlds, like Ralltiir and Kuat, who are ever on the alert for opportunities." "What does all that have to do with Valorum's holdings?" Palpatine asked mildly.

was It appears that said shipping company has recently received a significant inflow of capital, and yet the Supreme Chancellor failed to inform appropriate parties in the senate. Naturally, I began to wonder if he was even aware that someone had invested so heavily in the family business, and just who it was that had invested." "It wouldn't be like Supreme Chancellor Valorum to conceal something of that nature." "Initially, I believed the same. My assumption was that if it could be determined that the funds had indeed come from investment speculators who had no direct ties to Valorum, then-despite all outward appearances-noto breach of protocol or propriety had occurred.

But when I endeavored to establish as much, I kept finding myself beset with obstacles, dead ends, and ambiguous leads. As you yourself suggested, I resorted to turning the matter over to Senator Antilles, who has the necessary leverage to pry into ^th areas to which I was denied." "Has Senator Antilles made any progress?" Taa lowered his voice another notch. "What I have to tell you is hardly equivalent to your revelation about King Veruna, but, in fact, I have just learned that Antilles was successful in tracing the origin of the funds to what he at first thought was a venture capital consortium, but which, in fact, appears to be a fraudulent bank account, set up expressly for channeling illicitly gained funds to areas of special interest." Palpatine stared at him. "By special interests, I assume you refer to those senators who are receiving kickbacks from various organizations, criminal and otherwise."

"Precisely." "But you have yet to learn where the funds originated." "We are getting close, and the closer we get, the more potentially embarrassing this could be for the Supreme Chancellor." "I'd appreciate being kept fully informed." Taa smiled. "We'll make no announcement without consulting you."

Palpatine and Taa turned to watch Valorum waving to the crowd, which responded with a second round of gracious applause.

"This is the Supreme Chancellor's moment," Palpatine said. "We shouldn't spoil it with gossip." Taa was chagrined. "Please accept my apologies, Senator. It was never my intention to spoil the moment." He glanced to his left.

"I'll leave that to the Trade Federation." Viceroy Nute Gunray felt as if everyone's eyes were on him, despite the fact that it was Valorum who had the hall's undivided attention.

Gunray's own eyes, however, were on the battle droid that had been delivered into his care only moments before he and the members of the directorate had left their temporary quarters for the summit.

Indistinguishable from the dozen other droids providing pro tection for the directorate-save for a blush of yellow markings- the new addition stood just to Gunray's right, at the leading edge of the detachment on that side of the Trade Federation rostrum.

Gunray had barely had time to settle into his quarters on Eriadu when the Sith Lord, faithful to his word, had appeared, by means of the holoprojector Sidious had sent him months earlier. Although on this occasion the image was so distinct, so free of the usual noise and static, that Gunray might have almost believed that Sidious was on Eriadu or some neighboring world, rather than concealed in whatever manner of fathomless den from which he worked his dark magic.

Some strangers will be coming to give you an additional droid, Sidious had said, a battle droid. You are not to question them, nor the purpose of the droid itself. You will simply instruct the droid to join the others you brought to Eriadu. It will respond to your commands.

Gunray had been feverish with questions, but he had managed to restrain himself when the strangers arrived at his quarters with the boxed battle droid. He hadn't even informed Lott Dod of the communication, even when the senator-alone among the Trade Federation delegation-had casually remarked that he could have sworn that they had arrived on Eriadu with only twelve droids.

The shipping manifest would bear that out, of course. But considering that the Trade Federation enjoyed diplomatic status, it was improbable that Eriadu customs would raise a concern when the delegation returned to the spaceport with the extra droid in tow.

It was the second of the Sith Lord's directives that continued to prey on Gunray's thoughts, in any case, and was the cause of his present disquiet.

Even now he saw that the ensemble of musicians were assembling on the floor, in preparation of trumpeting the fanfares that would inaugurate the summit.

It was only a matter of minutes.

Gunray made note of where Lott Dod was seated.

Discreetly, he mopped away some of the perspiration that beaded his face, and he tried to calm himself.

Mostly, however, he counted down the minutes in silence.

From the padded seat of a repulsorlift chair Boiny had helped him commandeer from an oblivious veteran of the Stark Hyperspace Conflict, Cohl gazed across the summit hall to where the Trade Federation delegation had an area to itself, opposite Supreme Chancellor Valorum and the Coruscant bunch.

His vision was unfocused and narrowed to a tunnel, and his body was racked with pain, despite the injections Boiny had been administering with increasing frequency.

Cohl's seeming and actual nurse, the Rodian stood behind him, training a small pair of electrobinoculars on the Trade Federation's complement of thirteen droids.

"Only one of them is missing a restraining bolt," Boiny said, close to Cohl's left ear. "The droid with the yellow blazes on its head and midsection.

Just to the Neimoidian's right, at the head of the line on that side of the rostrum." Cohl put the electrobinoculars to his eyes.

"I've got him," he said weakly. Then he began to scan the immense hall with the glasses. "Havac's somewhere in here, probably with a remote control in hand." Boiny glanced around. "It's possible that the droid has been programmed to respond to a certain event, or at a specific time. But even if Havac has a remote, it won't necessarily have to operate by line of sight. He could be anywhere in the hall, or outside it." Cohl shook his head. "Havac's the type who needs to watch this happen. He planned it. It's his show."

Boiny's gaze continued to wander over the tiers of seats. "He can't be in the delegate's section.

And I doubt he plays the trumpet-was Abruptly, Cohl looked over his shoulder at the Rodian. "What was Havac before he turned to terrorism, Boiny- before he joined the Nebula Front?" Boiny thought about it. "Some kind of holomaker, right?" "A documentary holomaker. A freelance media correspondent."

In concert they raised their eyes to the media booths high overhead.

Fresh from the rooftop chase, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan joined Saesee Tiin and Adi Gallia on the floor of the hall, just inside the north entrance. Valorum was seated to the right and above them; the Trade Federation Directorate, to the left. In front of them, the members of the Eriadu delegation were taking their places in the stands that had been erected in the center of the hall.

Below the stands, a group of drummers and trumpeters were tuning their instruments.

The air was charged with excitement.

"The six we captured maintain that they've never heard of Cohl or Havac,"

Qui-Gon explained to the other Jedi, "and that they don't know anything about an assassination attempt." "Then what were they doing on the roof, armed and dangerous, and firing on you with a rocket launcher?" "They claim to be a band of thieves, who thought they could take advantage of the disorder surrounding the summit by breaking into the Seswenna Sector Bank." "Did you tell them about the roofscape image found in the holoprojector?" Tiin asked.

"There was no point. They might have been hoping to assault the Supreme Chancellor's hovercade from the roof, but I think they were simply there to distract us. That's what Cohl and Havac have been doing from the start, as far back as the incident at the Galactic Senate.

"Even if any of the six eventually admit to having been hired by Cohl, they could continue to claim that robbery was their intent. None were carrying documentation, so we don't even know who they are or what worlds they hail from. Eriadu security is running their likenesses and retinal prints, but, assuming Cohl gathered them from distant worlds, it could be weeks before any matches are discovered." "Then we have nothing more to go on," Adi said.

"Only that the rest of Havac's assassins are somewhere in this hall."

"There have been no incidents at the entrances," Tiin said. "No one has been arrested." "That means nothing," Qui-Gon said. "For experts like Cohl and Havac, this hall is as permeable as a Podrace finale. They would have no trouble getting inside." Tiin compressed his thin lips. "The only thing we can do is be prepared to defend the Supreme Chancellor." Qui-Gon glanced in Valorum's direction.

"Will he permit us to get any closer to him?" "No," Adi said. "He gave explicit orders that he doesn't want the proceedings disrupted-notor does he want us by his side. He wants the Jedi to be seen as impartial in this trade dispute." "Nevertheless, we can't stand here, waiting for something to happen, " Tiin growled. "We should divide and look around; locate the trouble before the trouble finds Valorum." Obi-Wan, who had been standing quietly throughout the exchange, noticed a familiar look come into Qui-Gon's eye. It was as if Qui-Gon's gaze was fixed on some invisible presence the living Force had highlighted.

"What is it, Master?" he asked quietly.

"I can feel him, Padawan." "Havac?" "Cohl." The tiny, dingy booth assigned to the Eriadu Free HoloDaily consisted of a couple of rigid chairs, a control console of dust — covered flatscreen displays and holoprojector pads, and a large single-pane window that looked out on the hall.

Havac stood by the window, staring down at the mostly seated crowd while he mounted a holocam in its stand. Behind him, and armed with blasters they had secreted in the summit hall weeks earlier, sat two of his human confederates. One of them wore a wrist comm.

When Havac had trained the holocam on the Trade Federation's arc of seats, he attached a scanner to the cam head. Then he aimed the device, which resembled a directional microphone, toward the trumpeters on the floor of the hall.

"Any word from the spotter team?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Not a chirp," the man with the comlink replied. "And Valorum has been here for over ten minutes.

What do you think happened?" "The likely explanation is that they were discovered." "Why do you say that?" Havac turned to face the pair. "Because I notified the authorities about Cohl's freighter, and left the holoprojector behind to be found." He waited for smiles of revelation, but when none appeared, he added, "It was the only way to ensure that the authorities would be kept occupied while we went about our business here." "Then Cohl has also been found-or his corpse, at any rate," the one with the comlink said.

The other man looked doubtful. "Suppose, as you say, the spotters have been found out, and they decide to cut a deal by telling what they know- credits or no credits." Havac shrugged theatrically. "They know me as Havac, and no "Havac" has been cleared by security to attend the summit. The credit transfers to Cohl's hired hands can't be traced directly to us. The safe house will be empty by the time they lead the authorities to it. We'll be long gone from Eriadu before anyone is able to assemble all the pieces of the puzzle."

Clearly meant to restore confidence, Havac's discourse failed to have the intended effect.

If anything, the two men looked even more skeptical than before.

"Is our shooter in place?" Havac asked impatiently.

"Out on the walkway-just waiting for the music to begin." "What do you want us to do with him afterward?" the one with the comlink asked.

Havac considered it. "He's a misfit with a counterfeit identity badge and a blaster, who has just fired at the delegates. You'll be a public hero if you kill him-or at least see to it that he falls from the walkway." "No loose ends," the same one said.

"As few as possible." Back on his alloy crutches, but still wearing a small flag fastened to the front of his robe that identified him as a veteran of the Stark Hyperspace Conflict, Cohl hobbled from the turbolift that had carried him and Boiny to the hall's main pedestrian level. From here it was possible to ascend to the perimeter walkways that accessed the media and security booths in the upper reaches of the domed building.

They were headed for the array of lifts when a voice called out behind them.

"Captain Cohl." Cohl didn't stop until the stranger repeated the call, then he maneuvered himself through a resigned turn. Ten meters down the corridor stood a tall, long-haired, and bearded Jedi, displaying a green- bladed lightsaber.

"This just isn't our day," Boiny muttered.

Cohl heard the characteristic snap and hiss of another lightsaber and glanced over his shoulder. The second Jedi was a clean-shaven young man, wearing the thin braid of a Padawan.

"We've been looking forward to meeting you since Dor — valla," the older one said.

Cohl and Boiny swapped looks of surprised dismay.

"You were the ones in the diplomatic Lancet," Cohl said.

"You led us a merry chase, Captain." Cohl snorted and shook his head.

"Well, you found us now. And you can put your glow sticks away.

We're unarmed." Qui-Gon merely pointed the lightsaber toward the floor as he approached. "I congratulate you on surviving the destruction of the Revenue." Cohl sagged on his crutches. "A lot of good it did me, Jedi. My partner and I are shot to pieces." Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan regarded them through the Force, and understood that Cohl wasn't lying. Both he and the Rodian were seriously injured.

"How did you find out about the Dorvalla operation, anyway?" Cohl asked.

"A member of the Nebula Front," Qui-Gon said. "Now dead." "So there was an informant. I guess Havac was right to have been secretive about this one."

"We're eager to meet Havac, as well," Obi-Wan said.

Cohl looked at him. "You'd do better to destroy the droid Havac infiltrated into the summit." "Droid?" the Jedi said in unison.

"A battle droid," Cohl elaborated.

"It's right up there with the rest of the directorate's droids. We figure Havac plans to have the droid kill Valorum." "That's impossible," Qui-Gon said. "Battle droids can't act without a cue from a central control computer."

"Havac's is one of Baktoid's new and improved models," Boiny said. "A commander. More of a freethinker. It only needs to be tasked, by voice command or remote signal, and it's capable of swaying the droids around it." Obi-Wan's jaw dropped slightly. "Are you saying that instead of one assassin, there are a potential dozen?" "Thirteen, actually," Boiny replied.

"It still can't initiate an act like that on its own," Qui-Gon insisted.

"That's where Havac comes in. He's the one with the remote." Qui-Gon stepped toward Cohl. "Where is he?" "I have some idea." "Tell me what you know, and let me handle this.

Obi-Wan will escort you and your partner to medical attention-and into custody." Cohl shook his head. "If you want Havac, we go together, Jedi, or not at all." He canted his head to Boiny. "Besides, we're the only ones who can identify him." Qui-Gon didn't even have to think about it. He glanced at Obi-Wan. "Padawan, report back to Master Tiin and the others. Quickly." "But, Master-was "Go, Padawan. Now." Obi-Wan showed him a tight-lipped nod and spun on his boot heels.

Qui-Gon watched his apprentice rush off, then he deactivated his lightsaber and put one arm under Cohl's trembling shoulder.

"Lean on me, Captain." w ith ten drummers setting the tempo, twice as many horn players raised their long instruments to their mouths and trumpeted the first of the three prolonged fanfares.

By then Obi-Wan had reached Tiin and the other Jedi.

"It's the droids," he began in a sally of words.

Tiin had him slow down and repeat everything he and Qui — Gon had learned from Cohl. Then the Iktotchi turned to Adi, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Vergere, and the rest.

"Position yourvs as close to Valorum as possible," he instructed Adi and Vergere.

"Obi-Wan, Ki, and I will be near the Trade Federation rostrum. The rest of you, disperse to deflect blasterfire. Be unassuming but prepared." "Master Tiin, do you think the Trade Federation suspects what's in their midst?" Obi- Wan asked as they set out across the floor of the hall.

"They couldn't. They are aggressive only when it comes to commerce.

However this Havac infiltrated the droid among the others, it had to have been done without the knowledge of the directorate members." "Should we order the delegation to remove the droids, Master?" Ki-Adi-Mundi replied. "Whoever is watching may decide to trigger the droids into action. If that happens, it could appear that we posed a threat, prompting the droids to respond with blasterfire.

If there was time, we could get someone aboard the Trade Federation freighter to shut down the central control computer." "Have you fought these droids before, Master Tiin?" "I know only that they're not very accurate, Padawan." Obi-Wan frowned as he ran. "With thirteen of them firing, that may not matter." Not even a quarter of the way around the upper level corridor that accessed the media booths, Boiny spied Havac through a small transparisteel panel set high in the door.

Leaving Cohl to stand on his own, Qui-Gon pressed his back to the corridor wall. "How many of them are in there?" he asked the Rodian.

"Havac and maybe two other humans-seated to the right of the door." Qui- Gon nodded to the door release lever. "Try it." Gingerly, Boiny placed his hand on the lever.

"Locked." He glanced at the touchpad mounted on the wall. "I can probably slice-was "I have a quicker way," Qui-Gon interrupted.

Activating his lightsaber, he shoved the glowing blade through the lock mechanism. The metal glowed red and instantly began to slag, tainting the air with biting odors. With a grating sound, the door slid into xs wall pocket.

By then, Havac and his two confederates were on their feet, weapons in hand. A flurry of blaster bolts glanced from Qui — Gon's blade, which he held upraised and threw left and right in precise parries. The deflected bolts blazed around the room, two of them wounding Havac's men and knocking them to the floor.

Undiluted terror fumbled the blaster from Havac's grip. As it fell, Qui- Gon called the weapon to him with a Force summons and tucked it into the wide belt that cinched his tunic.

Havac dropped back into his seat at the console, cowering in fear and raising his shaking hands above his head.

Boiny and Cohl followed Qui-Gon into the booth.

Cohl took stock of the situation and looked at Qui-Gon. "I'm glad I never had to go up against you people." "Cohl," Havac said in genuine amazement.

Cohl made his eyes narrow. "Next time you'll know better, amateur."

"Where is the remote that controls the battle droid?" Qui — Gon asked Havac.

Havac adopted a look of innocent perplexity.

"Remote? I don't know what you're talking about." Qui-Gon towered over him. "You infiltrated a droid into ^th the Trade Federation Directorate brought with them." He reached down and picked Havac out of his chair, holding him up against the booth's fixed window. "Where is the remote?" Havac clutched vainly at Qui-Gon's hand.

"Enough! Put me down and I'll tell you!" Qui-Gon lowered him to the chair.

"Our shooter has it," he said, biting out the words.

"I know the one he means," Cohl said. "A sniper." Qui-Gon looked back at Havac. "Where is he?" "Out on the walkways," Havac mumbled, averting his eyes.

Qui-Gon glanced at Cohl, making up his mind about something. "Are you well enough to remain with these three while your partner and I locate the shooter?" Cohl lowered himself into one of the chairs. "I think I can find it in me." Qui-Gon handed him Havac's blaster. He started to say something, but bit back his words and began again, gesturing to the two wounded men. "I'll send for medical attention." "There's no hurry," Cohl said.

When Qui-Gon and Boiny had disappeared through the open doorway, Cohl stared balefully at Havac.

The trumpeters paused briefly, then began the second modulating fanfare.

The musicians were a stanza into the piece when a human page approached the Trade Federation rostrum and asked for Viceroy Gunray.

The Kuati chair of the delegation directed the page to the far end of the directorate's curved table.

With palpable apprehension, Gunray watched the page advance.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Viceroy," the human began in Basic, loudly enough to be heard over the trumpets, "but apparently there is some problem with your shuttle. Eriadu Spaceport Control needs to speak with you at once." Gunray made his face long and stuck out his already prominent lower jaw. "Can't this wait until after the summit concludes?" The page shook his head. "I apologize, Viceroy, but this is a security matter. I assure you, it will require only a moment of your time." The Kuati chair, who had been monitoring the conversation, swung to face Gunray. "Go attend to the matter. If luck is with you, you won't have to endure Supreme Chancellor Valorum's opening remarks."

Lott Dod came to his feet as Gunray was preparing to leave. "Should I remain in your absence, Viceroy?" Gunray thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Come with me. You are better at dealing with procedures and legalities than I am. But let us be quick about it, Senator, I don't wish to miss any more of the summit than I have to." A hundred meters above the floor of the summit hall, Qui-Gon and Boiny hurried through the network of walkways, gantries, and trusses that spanned the upper reaches of the building from wall to wall. The martial bellowing of the trumpets resounded off the curved walls, playing tricks with the sound. Sunlight, colored by the enormous ocular window in the center of the dome, poured in.

Suspended by brackets from the ceiling, or cantilevered from the walls, the walkways had openwork floors and tubular handrails and were just wide enough for a human of normal size to pass through. At regular intervals, especially where walkways intersected, were balconies that permitted maintenance to be performed on speaker arrays or banks of spotlights.

There were innumerable places where a lone shooter, armed with a remote or a blaster, might conceal himself.

Qui-Gon and Boiny hadn't gone far before they encountered the first security agent, who raised a hand weapon as they approached and demanded to know what business they had there.

Qui-Gon explained in as few words as possible, at the same time regarding the agent through the Force to determine if his demeanor of righteous authority was genuine.

Disconcerted by Qui-Gon's revelations, the agent activated his comlink and notified every agent in the vicinity to recheck the documents of anyone in the walkways, whether their badges identified them as fellow agents or technicians. In the same breath, he ordered that all exits leading to the periphery corridor behind the media booths be sealed off.

Within moments, Qui-Gon, Boiny, and the agent were joined by additional security personnel. Forming up into three groups, they fanned out into the walkways.

Qui-Gon and Boiny angled away from the perimeter and out over the floor of the hall. Directly below them stood the two lines of trumpeters and drummers.

They reached another intersection and split up.

Stretching out with his feelings, Qui-Gon moved warily toward the next balcony.

A security agent rushed into view, a blaster rifle cradled in his arms.

"I received word over the comlink," he said. "There are two technicians on the next balcony.

I suggest we start with them." The agent stepped aside to let Qui-Gon pass.

Qui-Gon sprinted forward. But the Force drew him up short.

He began to turn.

Someone shouted, "Jedi!" Qui-Gon spun and saw Boiny running full-out toward him. The security agent was between them, the blaster rifle still angled across his chest.

Boiny pointed to the agent. "That's-was The agent glanced at Qui-Gon.

"He's with me," Qui-Gon started to say.

The agent crouched and fired, hitting Boiny square in the chest and hurling him backwards on the walkway. Then he whirled on Qui-Gon, firing steadily.

Qui-Gon unleashed his lightsaber. But the blaster bolts were delivered with such speed and precision that he was hard-pressed to deflect all of them.

Two whizzed past his blade, grazing his left arm and right leg.

He stumbled slightly.

Drawn by the sounds of the blasterfire, a trio of agents raced into view from the same direction Boiny had come. Havac's shooter drew a second weapon from a shoulder holster and unloaded on the agents, wounding two of them.

Qui-Gon changed the cant of his blade to deflect bolts off to each side, rather than back at the shooter, for fear of hitting any of the reinforcements. By now the agents were returning fire, but showing little concern for Qui-Gon's predicament.

The shooter was dazzlingly fast with his hands and body, dodging bolts and throwing himself from one side of the narrow walkway to the other, concealed body armor absorbing the few shots that did manage to find him.

Qui-Gon leapt forward. Slashing horizontally with his blade, he severed two of the walkway's tubular vertical supports.

Then he slashed downward to rend the struts that braced the platform.

Abruptly both sections of the cleaved walkway tilted, sending Qui-Gon and Havac's shooter staggering toward each other and the increasing gap between the now dangling ends of the platform.

A crazed yell tore from the shooter's throat.

He slipped to the floor and began to slide along the grating, firing both weapons at Qui-Gon as he fell.

Into the brief silence the musicians inserted between the second and final fanfares, came a rush of voices raised in panic.

Seated stiffly at the center of the Coruscant delegation's rostrum, Valorum wasn't sure what had provoked the screams until he saw Sei Taria, with one hand pressed to her mouth, pointing toward the hall's ceiling.

In the maze of walkways below the dome's oculus window, blaster bolts darted and crisscrossed in the tinted light. Others glanced from a lightsaber's green blade. Sparks showered down on the drummers and trumpeters like a benediction.

Sei screamed.

Jedi Masters Adi Gallia and Vergere rushed forward, their swords ignited.

Then a figure plummeted from one of the walkways.

From the Trade Federation's side of the hall, the chair of the directorate watched open-mouthed as a blaster fight erupted in the overhead trusses and gantries. On the floor, at the same time, three Jedi and several judicials were moving quickly if surreptitiously toward the directorate rostrum.

The Kuati glanced between the ceiling and floor. Had the summit been engineered to trap the directorate? he asked himself. Would the Republic be so bold as to attack them in public?

The security droids had gone from standing at attention to postures of readiness, crouching slightly, with arms crooked and left legs extended behind. They were programmed to answer to any or all of the directorate members-or at least relay a directorate member's commands to the central control computer on board the Trade Federation vessel-but the droids responded best to the Neimoidians.

The Kuati chair looked around for Viceroy Gunray and realized that he hadn't returned. At a loss for what to do, he swung to one of his aides.

"Activate the force field!" he ordered.

The sounds of blasters and panic on the floor infiltrated the media booth Havac had secured.

Seated in a chair with a hand weapon leveled at Havac, Cohl heard the holocam click on and saw Havac glance at it.

"Am I correct in assuming that you intend to kill me?" Havac asked.

"Killing is what you are good at, after all." "You're doing pretty good for a beginner, Havac." Havac snorted in disdain. "I'm prepared to die for the cause, Captain." "Maybe you are," Cohl said. "But I'm not going to give you that privilege. You're going to die for killing Rella. Besides, your cause is lost." Havac glanced at the cam again. "You think so?" Cohl gestured toward the transparisteel window.

"You hear those blaster bolts? The Jedi found your shooter-the one controlling the droid. Valorum is out of danger. I never thought much of the plan anyway, seeing how Valorum is trying to dismantle the Trade Federation, the same as you are." Havac laughed shortly. "You failed to see the truth, Cohl. You really are too old for the game.

What makes you think that we were ever after Valorum?" Cohl's grin straightened.

Grimacing in pain, he pushed himself out of the chair and limped to the window. The blaster fight had thrown the hall into utter chaos. The members of the Trade Federation Directorate were standing behind their curved table, surrounded by their security droids, everyone safe inside a shimmering force field.

Off to one side, a group of Jedi and judicials were closing on the Federation's rostrum.

Cohl swung to Havac, his eyes blazing.

"You're after the Trade Federation!" Havac couldn't restrain a triumphant smile.

"It was just a matter of getting them to activate the force field." He indicated the devices that were aimed down at the hall. "The scanner detected the activation. The holocam is going to do the rest." "The remote," Cohl said, as if in a daze.

He lunged for the cam, meeting Havac halfway.

They slammed into each other and fell grappling to the floor of the booth. They rolled toward the door, each man fighting for superiority, the blaster between them, in the clutch of four hands.

Cohl swung his elbow into Havac's face, knocking him sideways, then used Havac's momentum to pitch himself on top of Havac, pinning him to the floor with his knees.

Havac squirmed, but held tightly to the blaster, triggering a bolt into Cohl's abdomen. Cohl fell partially back, then slumped forward, bringing all his weight to bear on the weapon and forcing it down into Havac's chest.

With what little of his strength remained, Cohl squeezed out a final bolt.

Dangling by one hand from the swaying walkway, Qui-Gon looked down at the floor of the hall.

The trumpeters had stopped midfanfare and were scattering for cover, abandoning their horns as they ran. Everywhere else delegates were fleeing their seats, literally climbing over one another in a desperate attempt to escape.

Valorum was on his feet, but completely encircled by Senate Guards and Jedi Knights.

Saesee Tiin, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Obi-Wan had taken up positions in front of the Trade Federation rostrum, their lightsabers lifted to deflect fire from the droids.

But the directorate members had raised their force field, which meant that no bolts could enter or leave the translucent energy shield.

The thirteen droids reached over their right shoulders for the blaster rifles secured to their backpacks.

The judicials loosed a storm of blaster bolts, which the force field simply consumed.

Then, all at once, the droids pivoted through an ab-face.

The members of the directorate mouthed commands and curses and began to back away from the curved table.

The droids fired.

As the Jedi and judicials watched helplessly, bolts tore into the table and chairs and into the flesh of the members, shaking them about and hurling them to all sides of the rostrum.

The firing ceased as abruptly as it had started.

For a moment, the droids stood with their cooling blasters, then they put them back over their shoulders and turned to face the hall.

Stunned by what he had witnessed, Qui-Gon clambered onto the shaky walkway and dropped cross-legged to the slanted floor, staring off into space.

the inner circle The Nebula Front has largely disbanded," the judicial officer explained to Qui-Gon. "The few we've been able to track down contend that they knew nothing about Havac's plans for Eriadu.

Some of them had never even met Havac, and assert that the name was applied routinely to almost everyone in the Front's militant faction. The Eriadu operation was conceived in great secrecy, in any case, since the militants were convinced that there was an informant among them." "The informant was one of the moderates," Qui-Gon amended. "It was through him that I learned about Cohl's designs to raid the Trade Federation freighter at Dorvalla, and, on Asmeru, about a clandestine operation Cohl was executing for Havac." The judicial, a thin, brown-haired woman with a personable manner, made note of Qui-Gon's remarks on a desktop datapad. It was just the two of them in a small cubicle in the Justice Department's cavernous headquarters on Coruscant. Almost a standard month had gone by since the assassinations.

Deactivating the shield the members of the Trade Federation Directorate had thrown about themselves-unknowingly ushering in their own demise-had required a team of technicians, using a pair of field disrupters. The two Neimoidians who had survived the massacre, Viceroy Nute Gunray and Senator Lott Dod, had not protested when the same disrupters had been employed to dazzle the thirteen droids into states of guaranteed submission. Diplomatic privilege had permitted the Neimoidians to depart Eriadu without answering any questions.

Supreme Chancellor Valorum had ordered the Justice Department to commence an immediate investigation, but the chief investigators had soon found themselves thwarted by Lieutenant Governor Tarkin.

Tarkin insisted that, since Eriadu had failed to provide adequate security, the case should be handled by Eriaduan investigators. There was some concern that Tarkin, fearing retaliation by the Trade Federation, would seek to shift the blame to other parties. But, instead, he had simply impeded the investigation by allowing evidence and eyewitnesses to vanish. Ignored, the judicials Valorum had asked to remain behind on Eriadu had finally decamped.

Qui-Gon had tried to stay abreast of developments in the case, but the chief investigator who served as liaison with the Eriaduan team had only just returned to Coruscant.

"Havac turns out to have been Eriaduan," the judicial officer continued.

"His real name was Eru Matalis, a media correspondent and holodocumentarian, with a long-standing grudge against the Trade Federation. At some point he became the leader of the Nebula Front's cell on Eriadu, and rose through the ranks to a command position in the organization.

"A search of the safe house the Nebula Front maintained in Eriadu City revealed that the Front had contacts in all quarters of government and law enforcement, and presumably knew as much as anyone about security for the trade summit. Evidently, Havac-Matalis-used his contacts to obtain security badges, uniforms, and documentation for the assassins Cohl had hired, and perhaps arranged to have weapons concealed inside the hall, prior to the summit itself." "The operation must have been planned as soon as the trade summit was announced," Qui-Gon said.

"Or soon after the attack on the Supreme Chancellor, here on Coruscant. I don't suppose we'll ever know whether that attack was genuine, or designed from the start to sidetrack us from what was being set in motion on Eriadu."

"Not unless Cohl or Havac learn to speak from beyond the grave," the judicial said.

"What of the assassins who were captured?" "Everyone in custody upholds that Valorum was the target- even the two who you discovered with Havac in the media booth. As they tell it, Havac's goal was to make it appear that the Trade Federation's droids had killed Valorum, at the behest of the directorate. That would have led to the dismantlement of the Federation, which is what the Nebula Front wanted all along.

"We considered the possibility that something went wrong with the droids'

programming, and that the attack on the directorate was a mistake. But Baktoid provided ample proof that that could not have happened." "Could Baktoid have been involved in abetting Havac?" "They vehemently deny any involvement. In fact, their technicians helped us analyze the battle droid-the so-called commander-which was found to contain a mechanism that allowed it to be controlled independently of the central control computer, but only for a brief period. Havac's holocam prompted the commander to act, and the twelve other droids followed the commander's lead. As soon as the central control computer realized what was occurring in the summit hall, it shut down all of them."

Qui-Gon considered it for a moment. "Havac must have had help getting the droid into Trade Federation hands." "Absolutely," the judicial said, nodding.

"But diplomatic privilege has prevented us from learning all that we wish to know. For example, Eriadu Spaceport records show that the directorate arrived with only twelve droids. So the thirteenth-the assassin- had to have been acquired while the delegation was on the surface.

"Gunray, the new commanding viceroy of the entire Trade Federation, alleges-through his lawyers, at any rate-that someone on the directorate must have accepted or introduced the droid. Senator Lott Dod claims that when he drew Gunray's attention to the extra droid, the viceroy appeared to be every bit as puzzled as Dod was." "What about the message that took Gunray and Dod from the summit hall?" "Legitimate-as far as can be determined. A plasma leak was detected in the engines of the Neimoidians' shuttle. The leak touched off scanners at the spaceport, and someone at the spaceport contacted security at the summit hall. The problem is, we haven't been able to learn the identity of whoever it was that contacted security. Viceroy Gunray insists that the comlink the page led him to was inactive when he reached it.

The page has verified this. By the time Gunray and Dod were headed back to their seats, the violence had already broken out, and security agents restrained them from reentering the hall." The judicial shook her head in exasperation. "It all comes down to Havac." Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest and nodded, though not convincingly. "So it would appear." "It's a pleasure to see you again, Senator Palpatine," the exquisite figure in the holoprojector field said. "I look forward to the day when we can meet again in person." "I do, as well, Your Majesty," Palpatine said, bowing his head in a gesture of respect.

The figure sat in a round-backed throne, with a towering arch-topped window at her back, and, to either side, massive columns of native stone. Her low voice was as composed as her posture; the words emerged from her painted lips with scant inflection.

She had a slight figure and a lovely, feminine face. She was remarkably solemn for one so young.

It was clear that she took her responsibilities with the utmost seriousness.

Her birth name was Padme Naberrie. But she would henceforth be known as Queen Amidala, the newly elected ruler of Naboo.

Palpatine was receiving the communication in his apartment, high in the craglike tower that was 500 Republica, in one of Cor — uscant's oldest and most prestigious precincts. The walls and floor were as red as Amidala's throne, with objects of art adorning every niche and corner.

He could imagine his own ghostly likeness hovering above the composite holoprojector in the floor of the Advisory Council chambers in Naboo's Theed Palace.

"Senator, I wanted to advise you about something, which has only now been revealed to me. King Veruna is dead." "Dead, Your Majesty?" Palpatine frowned in apparent disquiet. "Of course, I was aware that he had gone into hiding following his abdication. But I understood that he was in good health." "He was in good health, Senator," Amidala said in a low monotone. "His death has been ruled "accidental," but much mystery surrounds it." Even at fourteen years of age, she was not the youngest monarch ever elected to the throne, but she was certainly one of the most conventional, in dress and bearing.

She was sheathed head to foot in a wide-shouldered red gown, whose ample cuffs were trimmed with potolli fur. The gown's narrow bib was embroidered in priceless thread. Painted white, her face sat in the notch of a deep collar that not only bracketed her fine features, but also became part of an elaborate jeweled headpiece that flared behind her head. Her thumbnails were accented with white polish, and each cheekbone with a red, stylized beauty mark. A traditional "scar of remembrance" bisected her lower lip, which, unlike its red mate, was also painted white. Five handmaidens stood behind her, dressed in hooded burgundy gowns.

"I wish you to meet our new chief of security, Senator," Amidala said, gesturing to someone out of view. "Captain Panaka." A clean-shaven man with light-brown skin moved into the holofield. Humorless-looking, he was dressed in a leather jerkin and matching command cap.

Panaka may have been recently appointed, but he was not new to the court, since Panaka had served for a time under his predecessor, Captain Magneta.

"Because King Veruna died under suspicious circumstances," Amidala said, "Captain Panaka feels that additional security is required for all of us, including you, Senator." Palpatine looked surprised, even entertained by the notion. "I hardly think that's necessary on Coruscant, Your Majesty. The only danger here comes from having to fraternize with other senators, and somehow remain immune to the greed that plagues the Galactic Senate." The queen returned to the holofield. "What about the recent troubles between the Trade Federation and the Nebula Front terrorists, Senator?" Palpatine shook his head in disapproval. "That sorry incident only pointed out how ineffectual the Republic has become at mediating such conflicts. Too many in the Senate place their own needs above the needs of the Republic." "What will become of Chancellor Valorum's proposal to tax the free trade zones?" "I feel certain that the Supreme Chancellor will pursue the matter." "How will you vote, Senator, should the matter reach a vote?" "How would you have me vote, Your Majesty?" Amidala thought before replying. "My responsibility is to the people of Naboo. I would very much like to establish good relations with Chancellor Valorum, but Naboo can scarcely afford to become embroiled in a dispute that pits the Republic against the Trade Federation. I will abide by your decision on the matter, Senator." Palpatine inclined his head. "Then I will weigh the matter carefully, and vote according to what is ultimately best for Naboo and the Republic." Valorum stood at the tall windows, gazing out on the cityscape.

"The last time we met here, it was to discuss the Trade Federation's request for protection from terrorists," he said, "and in the months since, the situation has only intensified. When I reflect on the sequence of events that have brought us to this dark place, I find myself at a loss. If someone had tried to tell me months ago that we were headed here, I wouldn't have heeded the warning, because I wouldn't have considered it possible." Senator Palpatine said nothing. He waited for Valorum to turn from the view.

"Out of respect for what occurred at the summit, I have deferred bringing the motion for taxation before the senate. But I am under pressure to resolve the matter once and for all-from those who support it, as well as those who oppose it." Valorum pivoted to face Palpatine. "You, perhaps more than anyone, know the climate of the senate.

Did the assassinations create sympathy for the Trade Federation, to the point where we won't be able to gather sufficient support for taxation?" "On the contrary," Palpatine said. "What happened on Eriadu only reinforced everyone's fears that we are entering violent times, and that the conflict between the Trade Federation and the Nebula Front could be a sign of greater tragedies to come.

"What's more, with the profit-driven Neimoidians now helming the Trade Federation, tension is likely to increase in the outlying systems. Your plan to redirect revenue to the Outer Rim is praiseworthy, and is something that should be put into effect. Many worlds and struggling concerns stand to profit from such a move. Market competition will eventually temper the reach of the Trade Federation, without need for the Republic to intervene, beyond taxation.

" Valorum nodded. "And what of the Trade Federation's request for additional defenses? Even with the Nebula Front eliminated as a threat, the Neimoidians will want permission to augment their army." "That's true," Palpatine said slowly. "As an accommodation, if nothing else, we should at least consider allowing the Trade Federation to take whatever steps are necessary to safeguard their vessels.

The breakup of the Nebula Front does not preclude the possibility of further acts of terrorism, launched by whatever groups rise up next." Valorum regarded Palpatine. "Will we have Naboo's vote?" Palpatine sighed with purpose. "Unfortunately, Queen Amidala is not prepared to support taxation, as Naboo still relies on the Trade Federation for many essential imports. She is young and inexperienced in such matters, but eager to learn." He fixed his gaze on Valorum. "However, I will continue to do all in my power to work behind the scenes.

I feel certain that we will be able to rally the votes needed." Valorum smiled in gratitude. "For all the support you have shown me, my friend, I trust that you will take on faith that, should need ever arise, I would do all within my power to render aid to Naboo." "Thank you, Supreme Chancellor. As you say, I will take you at your word." T he public corridors of the Galactic Senate overflowed with Holoationet correspondents, well-wishers, and the more civic-minded of Coruscant's citizens.

Flanked by Senate Guards, a rejuvenated Valorum moved slowly through the principal corridor, trading dignified nods with senators and ignoring questions hurled by the media reporters.

"Supreme Chancellor, did you ever for a moment doubt that the taxation proposal would be ratified?" a Twi'lek correspondent asked.

Sei Taria answered for him.

"The issue has been controversial from the start. But everyone involved remained confident that the proposal would pass, once all parties had an opportunity to be heard." An attractive human female shouldered her way to the front of the crowd. "Considering what happened at the trade summit, do you still feel that all parties were heard?" Again Sei Taria intervened.

"While tragedy compelled us to abbreviate the summit, much was accomplished on Eriadu. Those who were denied an opportunity to speak were given ample time to voice their opinions here, when the discussions continued.

" "Discussions or debates, Supreme Chancellor?" Valorum waved his hand in dismissal.

"Do you feel that taxation strikes a blow for the rights of the outlying systems?" "The outlying systems will surely benefit," Taria replied. "But all worlds stand to gain as a result of this historic action. Contrary to the claims of many a would-be political pundit, the passage of this bill demonstrates clearly that the senate has not grown too unwieldy or apathetic to act for the common good." Another human correspondent shoved his way forward. "Would you consider this to be the high point of your administration?

" Taria held up her hands. "Later today, the office of the Supreme Chancellor will issue a statement.

Until that time, there will be no further questions." The correspondents grumbled, but ultimately fell silent and stepped aside, as Valorum's contingent of advisers and guards steered him toward the turbolift that accessed his private chambers.

Once there, he removed his outer cloak, sat heavily into his chair, and loosed a prolonged exhale.

"Thank you for running interference," he told Taria when the two of them were alone in the office.

She smiled and took a seat opposite him. "We should issue a statement as quickly as possible. Do you want to compose something now?" Valorum frowned, then got to his feet and walked to the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

Taria activated the record function of her wrist comlink.

"For too long a time the senate has been bogged down by policies and procedures," Valorum began after a moment. "But today we managed to sidestep that bureaucratic morass. We have succeeded in overcoming our inertia, by setting aside petty squabbles and self-interest, and by banding together to strike a blow for the Republic itself. In this, we have reaffirmed our mandate, and refound our way.

"While we are honored to have introduced this historic proposal, victory would not have been possible without the tireless efforts of several good and proper delegates. We shall refrain from going into the matter of how the vote was carried. But we do want to say that we owe much gratitude to delegates like-was Valorum cut short his remarks when a tone issued from the office door. When Sei Taria opened the door, two Senate Guards conducted Alderaanian Senator Bail Antilles into the room. In his right hand, the chair of the Internal Activities Committee held a legal-looking piece of durasheet.

"Supreme Chancellor, I'm sorry to have to be the bearer of raw tidings on a day that should be devoted to celebration," Antilles said, extending the durasheet to Valorum. "But this document constitutes official notification that you are hereby requested to appear before the Supreme Court to answer allegations of corruption and illegal enrichment." Valorum blinked in stupefaction. He couldn't make sense of what he had just heard. This had to be a mistake, or a joke in very poor taste. His heart thudded against his breastbone, and he grew short of breath. He stared at the durasheet he had accepted, then glared at Antilles.

"I demand to know the meaning of this." Antilles compressed his lips.

"Again, I apologize, Supreme Chancellor. But that is all I am permitted to say about the matter at this time." V alorum was surrounded not by Senate Guards but by lawyers when he finally appeared before the Supreme Court almost two weeks later. During that time his legal team had managed to discover that the basis for the allegations was an investment made in Valorum Shipping, on Eriadu.

Beyond that, Valorum was in the dark.

The Supreme Court convened in closed session in the Galactic Courts of Justice Building, an enormous edifice of pointed arches, tall decorative spires, and elaborate statuary, located in the so-called Plains of Coruscant, not far from the Jedi Temple.

Valorum and his lawyers were seated at a long table opposite the twelve robed figures who comprised the judiciary council. Bail Antilles and the members of the Internal Activities Committee sat perpendicular to the bench.

The chief justice spoke, addressing Valorum.

"Supreme Chancellor, we appreciate that you elected to appear before us, without being subpoenaed by writ." "We are given to understand that this is an informal inquest," one of the lawyers said in Valorum's stead.

"Your presumption is correct." The judge looked to Antilles, who stood and spoke from his place at the committee's table.

"Your Honors, Supreme Chancellor Valorum," he began. "Just two weeks ago the senate met in special session to vote on a motion introduced by Supreme Chancellor Valorum, calling for a tax to be levied on all shipping and other mercantile activities in what were formerly known as the free trade zones of the outlying systems.

"An amendment to the original proposal directed that a percentage of all revenues collected by the Republic would be redistributed among the outlying systems, for purposes of social welfare and technological advancement. Many business concerns located in those systems have already begun to reap the benefits of the amendment, in the form of venture capital bestowed by investors, here in the Core. One of those concerns is Valorum Shipping and Transport, of Eriadu, which has received an enormous sum, for a company that has shown only marginal profits over the past several standard years."

Valorum's lawyer interrupted.

"With all due respect, Senator Antilles, Supreme Chancellor Valorum was not made aware of the investment in Valorum Shipping until last week.

Regardless, while it's true that the company bears the Valorum name, and that the Supreme Chancellor is a member of the board of directors, he does not participate in company operations, or involve himself with each and every commonplace business transaction.

"More important, Your Honors, since when does it violate Republic law for a company to profit, based on merit alone? In the case of Valorum Shipping, it strikes me as good business sense for investors to be drawn to concerns owned by prominent public figures. It's not as if the Supreme Chancellor actively solicited investments. Furthermore, the Supreme Chancellor, as required by law, has made full disclosure of all his holdings, and his record, with regard to earnings and taxes, is spotless." The twelve judges looked at Antilles, who was still frowning when the lawyer finished speaking.

"If I may be allowed to continue. The Internal Activities Committee does not take issue with any of the statements made by the Supreme Chancellor's legal representative. In fact, when this matter was first brought to our attention, we proceeded under the assumption that no infringement of protocol had occurred. However…" Antilles let the word dangle for a long moment before continuing.

"Subsequent investigation has shown that the contribution to Valorum Shipping did not originate with a consortium or venture capital group. Rather, the revenue was drawn from a blind account, and moved to Eriadu through a Coruscant bank of dubious reputation. I use the term moved advisedly, Your Honors, since the investment was tendered in the form of hard assets."

Valorum's lawyers regarded one another in puzzlement. "Of what sort?" the spokesman asked Antilles.

"Aurodium ingots." Blood drained from Valorum's face, and a stir went through the room. Valorum and his lawyers conferred for a moment, before the spokesman replied.

"Your Honors, we acknowledge that the investment begins to sound, shall we say, less than forthright.

Nevertheless, Senator Antilles has yet to demonstrate exactly how this matter relates to the Supreme Chancellor." Antilles's expression made clear that he had been waiting for just this moment. He gazed at Valorum while he delivered his finishing stroke.

"What the Internal Activities Committee finds most interesting, and questionable, is that the value of the aurodium-and indeed the quantity- corresponds exactly to a cache of ingots reported missing by the Trade Federation, following an attack on one of their vessels, the Revenue, in the Dorvalla system, several months ago." Hushed conversations erupted throughout the room, as Antilles stepped out from behind the table and approached the bench.

"Your Honors, this is not an indictment. The committee merely wishes to be reassured that the Supreme Chancellor did not have a hidden agenda in supporting taxation, as part of a scheme to enrich his own holdings in the outlying systems. The committee also wishes to be reassured that the aurodium in question did, in fact, disappear from the Revenue, and was not simply transferred to Valorum Shipping, to seal a clandestine partnership existing between the Supreme Chancellor and the Trade Federation." Senator Palpatine was one of a hundred or more senators who had been invited to Orn Free Taa's lavish penthouse for an evening of exceptional food and extravagant drink.

What had been touted as an occasion, however, had all the undercurrents of a conclave; and where outsiders assumed that its purpose was to celebrate Valorum's seeming victory in the Senate, it was instead intended to cheer his recent reversal of fortune.

On the largest of the penthouse's many terraces, the blue — skinned Twi'lek host was holding forth for an audience of senators, who hung on his every word.

"Of course we knew about the alleged improprieties. But it was necessary to delay mention of the scandal to ensure that the tax proposal would be ratified, which wouldn't have been the case had Valorum been weakened beforehand." Taa shook his head and fat lekku. "No, by waiting to reveal the allegations, and by supporting Valorum, we managed to turn what might have been perceived as an instance of ordinary corruption into what hints at a nefarious plot that threatens the stability of the very Republic." "But is there actually anything to the accusations?" Quarren Senator Tikkes asked, his facial tentacles quivering in prospect.

Taa's enormous shoulders heaved in a shrug of indifference. "There is the aurodium, and there is the appearance of deceit. What else matters?" "If it is true, then Valorum has become a danger to the general good," Mot Not Rab remarked.

Tikkes affirmed that with an enthusiastic nod. "I say we shake him, before worse days endure." Others nodded in agreement, muttering among themselves.

"Patience, patience," Taa advised in a soothing voice. "Baseless or not, the allegations have essentially crippled Valorum. We need only to rid ourselves of those senators who have buoyed him in the past, enabling him to remain afloat despite our best attempts to sink him. Besides, there may yet be some advantage to keeping him high and dry." "What advantage?" the senator from Rodia asked.

"With his influence further eroded, and the Justice Department stripped of some of its former authority, commissions will have to be appointed to render judgments and decisions he would ordinarily make. The power of the courts will increase. But cases will invariably take longer than ever to resolve. And yet Valorum will continue to suffer the blame." "Unless a strong vice chancellor is appointed," the Rodian thought to point out.

"We must not let that happen," Taa said firmly.

"We need a consummate bureaucrat to serve as vice chancellor." He leaned toward his circle of conspirators. "Senator Palpatine has suggested that we do our best to install the Chagrian-Mas Amedda." "But Amedda is rumored to be well disposed to the Trade Federation," Tikkes said in disbelief.

"All the better, all the better." Taa was gleeful. "What matters is that the more fanatical he is about procedure, the more he stifles Valorum's ability to act." "To what final end?" Mot Not Rab asked.

"Why, to Valorum's final end," Taa said. "And when that time comes, we will elect a leader with fire in his veins." "Bail Antilles is already campaigning," the Rodian said.

"As is Ainlee Teem of Malastare," Tikkes added.

Taa noticed Palpatine standing by the terrace doors, engaged in deep conversation with the senators from Fondor and Eriadu.

"I propose that we consider nominating Palpatine," he said, gesturing discreetly.

Tikkes and the rest glanced at the tall senator from Naboo.

"Palpatine would never accept the nomination," the Quar — ren said. "He considers himself a supporting player." Taa narrowed his eyes. "Then we must convince him.

Think what it would mean to the outlying systems if someone from other than a Core world was elected Supreme Chancellor. There might finally be equality for all species. He can restore order, if anyone can. He has the right combination of selflessness and quiet power. And don't let yourvs be fooled: there is a strong hand concealed within those loose sleeves.

He cares deeply about the integrity of the Republic, and he will do whatever is needed to enforce the laws." Tikkes was dubious. "Then we will not be able to play him as we have Valorum." "That's the beauty of it," Taa said.

"We won't have to, because he thinks like one of us." I n all the years she had known him, Adi Gallia had never seen Valorum so despondent. He could be moody at times, and unjustly hard on himself, but the allegations of corruption had tipped him into a dark place from which he could not surface.

In the month since she had seen him last, he appeared to have aged a year.

"The aurodium was the Nebula Front's final stab at me," he was telling her. "The terrorists were determined to take me down, along with the Trade Federation Directorate. That has to be the explanation. And do you know why my family members on Eriadu said nothing of the aurodium? Because they felt slighted that I had chosen to accept the hospitality of Lieutenant Governor Tarkin, who, it seems, has been something of a nemesis for them. I did so only as a courtesy to Senator Palpatine, who now feels that he played a guilty part in this whole wretched affair." Adi was about to reply, but Valorum didn't give her the chance.

"Although I ask myself if certain senators weren't involved.

Those who would sooner see me disgraced than simply dis — empowered." Adi had come to his office in the senate, which had become a place of purposeful whisperings and innuendo. The entire climate of the senate had changed-and Valorum felt responsible.

"It will only be a matter of time before you are exonerated," Adi tried to reassure him.

He shook his head. "Few are interested in seeing me exonerated-the media, least of all. And with the terrorist Havac dead, there is no one to say with certainty that the Trade Federation wasn't trying to buy my influence."

"If that was the case, why would you have pushed so hard to tax the trade routes? The tax alone is proof of your honesty." Valorum's weak smile belied his sense of hopelessness. "My critics have an explanation.

To offset the tax, revenue that goes to the outlying systems will simply find its way back into the deep pockets of the Neimoidians' robes." "It's all conjectural," Adi said. "It will disappear." Valorum scarcely heard her.

"I don't care what they say about me personally.

But now, all that I have accomplished in the senate is in question. I am made to answer to Mas Amedda, who is so consumed with procedure that no new legislation will pass. Yet more commissions and committees will come inffbbing, and with them, expanded opportunities for graft and corruption."

Valorum fell quiet for a long moment, shaking his head back and forth.

"The assassinations on Eriadu, and now this scandal, will have wide- ranging consequences. It has already been made clear to me that the Jedi are not to become involved in trade disputes, without the express consent of the senate.

"But worst of all, is the disservice I have done the Republic. The citizenry take its cue from the head of state-even when that one has become little more than an ineffectual figurehead.

"I looked for the causes of corruption and found myself to blame. Did I conveniently forget all the deals I struck with malicious beings? Did I conveniently forget that I, too, had been corrupted?" He put his elbows on the desk and pressed his fingertips to his temples, keeping his gaze downward.

"I had a terrible dream last night, that seemed as much a reflection of my present circumstance as a vision of the future. In it, I felt myself besieged by nebulous forces, by wraiths of one sort or another. Something was reaching for me out of the blackness, to crush me in its grip." "Terrible, but only a dream," Adi said. "Not a vision." Valorum managed to summon the same weak smile when he looked up at her.

"If only I had more supporters like you and Senator Palpatine." "Better a few faithful supporters, than a wealth of false friends," Adi said. "Perhaps you can find some solace in that." In the High Council tower of the Jedi Temple, the eleven Masters listened to Adi recount her meeting with Valorum.

As ever, Yoda was in motion, walking about with his gimer stick cane, and, because of the part they had played in the events, Qui — Gon and Obi-Wan were present.

"The Supreme Chancellor is correct about one thing," Mace Windu said.

"The aurodium could only have come from Havac. Cohl delivered the stolen ingots to him, then Havac set up the blind account and saw to it that the aurodium was invested in Valorum Shipping." "But why?" Yarael Poof asked.

"By suggesting collusion, Havac hoped to bring down both the Supreme Chancellor and the Trade Federation." "Valorum, perhaps," Depa Billaba said.

"But the Neimoidi — ans have much of the senate on their payroll. The Trade Federation hasn't been touched by the scandal." "Indeed they haven't," Oppo Rancisis agreed. "Too little thought we gave these events," Yoda said. "All of us." Yaddle turned to face Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, who were standing outside the Masters' circle. "You two: flying here, flying "there, chasing clues… If stopped for a moment to listen to the His: unifying Force, see what was coming you might have." "I did what I had to do, Masters," Qui-Gon said, without apology. Yoda loosed a prolonged sigh. "Blame you, we don't, Qui-Gon. But exasperate us, you do." Qui-Gon inclined his head in a bow.

"This scandal wasn't the sole work of the Nebula Front," Adi said. "The Supreme Chancellor has other enemies — comhidden enemies, plotting against him. Trying to maneuver him into a position where he will err gravely, and be voted out of office or be forced to resign." "To be replaced by the likes of Bail Antilles or Ainlee Teem," Saesee Tiin muttered.

Windu nodded. "He has been too trusting." "Too naive," Even Piell remarked harshly.

Yoda paced, then stopped. "Help him, we must-in secret, if need be." "We must heed the will of the Force in this matter," Windu said. "We must be open to ways to counter the treacherous vor-tex into wh the Republic has been drawn. Perhaps we can help Valorum get wind of events before his enemies have an opportunity to stack those events against him." "He senses perilous times ahead," Adi said.

"As if some darkness has been awakened, intent on spreading itself across the galaxy." Yaddle broke the long silence.

"Tipping the balance is." Yoda looked at her. "Tipping, yes. But from troubled times to untroubled, or from bad times to worse?" Windu steepled his fingers in front of his face.

"And what unknown hand is doing the tipping?" Darth Sidious visited Nute Gunray and his advisers by hologram, on the bridge of the Trade Federation freighter Saak'ak, bar bar known, in Basic, as the Profiteer.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Viceroy," the Sith Lord rasped, in a manner that made derision sound like a compliment.

"Thank you, my Lord," Gunray was quick to respond. "We did not imagine, when you said you would convince our competitors in the directorate, that you would…" "That I would what, Viceroy? Perhaps you imagined that I would act with greater subtlety, is that it? Now there is no one to stand in your way of acquiring an army or directing the future course of the Trade Federation."

Hath Monchar, Rune Haako, and Commander Daultay Dofine looked at Gunray in stark apprehension.

"I meant no offense, my Lord," he stammered.

Sidious was briefly quiet. If only they could see his eyes, they might have had a hint of what he was thinking.

"Soon I will be taking steps to eliminate some of your other competitors, " he intoned a moment later. "But that does not concern you. Instead, I want you to devote your energies to becoming familiar with the capabilities of your newly acquired toys-your battle droids, and starfighters, and landing craft.

Have Baktoid and Haor Chall Engineering been filling your orders on schedule?"

"They have, my Lord," Gunray said. "Though at exorbitant cost." "Don't try my patience with talk of credits, Viceroy," Sidious warned. "There is more at stake than the health of your financial accounts." Gunray was close to trembling. "What would you have us do, my Lord?" "We are going to put your new army to the test." Gunray and Hath Monchar exchanged fearful glances.

"A test?" Monchar said.

Sidious seemed to gaze at him for an uncomfortably long time. "I suspect that you are hardly thrilled by the senate's sanction of taxation of the trade routes," he said at last.

Gunray nodded. "The senate has no right." "Of course not. And what better way to demonstrate your displeasure than through a trade blockade." "Of Eriadu," Gunray said eagerly. "Because of what happened-was "Eriadu would respond with force, Viceroy. We don't want a war. We want an embargo." "Which world shall it be?" Monchar said.

"I suggest we strike at the homeworld of the senator who was most responsible for championing the taxation bill: Naboo." "Naboo?" Haako said in genuine bewilderment.

Sidious nodded. "Senator Palpatine is adept at dissembling his real nature. You scarcely realize how much damage he has already caused." "But would such a blockade be legal?" Gunray asked. "Valorum will never sit still for it." "I have a surprise in store for feeble-tempered Valorum," Sidious promised. "What's more, the scandal surrounding the Supreme Chancellor has led many senators to rethink the taxation legislation. Few will grumble about a trade embargo of a world so distant from the Core." Monchar stepped forward.

"And what of the Jedi?" "They are already constrained from interfering." "But if they do, my Lord?" Gunray said.

"We will not be subtle in dealing with them." Gunray bowed his head.

"Once again, we place ourselves in your hands." Sidious smiled faintly. "As I told you once before, Viceroy, you serve yours best when you serve me."