Джеймс Лучено - Cloak Of Deception

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?"