The Approaching Storm

by Alan Dean Foster

  The shooter returned the blaster he had employed with such precise aim to the pouch that hung from his neck. “So unfortunate. Bursting in uninvited, ranting and screaming like that, there was no way of telling what this one intended. When he reached for his pocket …” The speaker left the implication unsaid.

  Next to him, Tolut the Armalet eyed the smoking corpse curiously. “That’s Ogomoor. I recognize him despite the damage. Wasn’t he in your employ?”

  The shooter gestured nonchalantly. “He performed some occasional functions for me, yes. Though I gave him every opportunity and treated him well, I always thought him a bit unstable.” A hand gestured in the direction of the dead body. “I am truly sorry to see my early judgment confirmed.”

  Barriss all but bolted toward the delegation. So abrupt was her reaction that Anakin was tempted to activate his lightsaber. Halfway toward the long, curving table behind which the Unity delegates were seated, she began gesturing heatedly at the individual who reposed slightly off to one side.

  “You!” she declaimed in a voice so ringing it might as well have been the Jedi Luminara doing the accusing. “You were the one!”

  The object of her wrath gawked uncomprehendingly at the furious human, then spread his arms wide in innocent supplication as he regarded the assembled delegates.

  Luminara gazed narrowly at her infuriated Padawan. “Barriss? Explain yourself.”

  “Explain myself? Yes, I’ll explain myself, Master.” Her hand was steady as she held it pointed at the individual in question. “I didn’t recognize him at first because I never saw him, but when I was preparing to flee the room where I had been imprisoned, before we left Cuipernam, Bulgan let his name slip.” She indicated the still-smoking body on the floor of the hall behind her. “It all comes together now.” Her eyes bored into larger, slitted ones. They stared back impolitely, masking the unpleasant thoughts that roiled behind them.

  “Soergg the Hutt, I accuse you of ordering my kidnapping, of trying to obstruct any reconciliation between the people of the cities and the Alwari of the plains, of directing at least one and probably two attempts on our lives, of offering to pay the clan Qulun and anyone else who could manage it to abduct and restrain us until after the vote that is to take place here today, and probably of being in the pay of the Commerce Guild to boot.” Her other hand dropped to her lightsaber.

  A glance from Luminara was enough to stay the Padawan, but not to mute her anger. “This is an important conference, Barriss. No matter how we may feel about certain tangential matters, there are protocols to be followed.”

  “Tangential! But he’s the one who had me kidnapped!” Barriss protested vehemently. “And he’s almost certainly behind all our troubles here on Ansion.”

  “This is not a court of law, Padawan.” Luminara spoke gently but firmly. “Words like almost are even less admissible here. This is neither the time nor the place for addressing such concerns. Restrain yourself.” Her tone hardened. “Or I will have to.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, Barriss sat back down. But her eyes never left the distended, bloated object of her resentment. Behind her and her friends, city attendants were removing the broken body of the Hutt’s former majordomo.

  Shaking his head regretfully, Soergg addressed the curious delegates. “Our offworld friends have clearly been under enormous strain. This is quite understandable. Spending so much time among the savage, uncivilized nomads of the plains would take its toll on any civilized person.” At this insult, Bulgan started forward, and had to be restrained by Kyakhta. “I take no umbrage at the child’s outburst. I can only imagine the deprivations she and her companions have been forced to suffer these past weeks out on the empty prairie.”

  “At least we didn’t have to worry about ‘savage nomads’ trying to murder us from ambush,” Barriss shot back. Luminara threw her a cautioning glance, but for once the Padawan ignored it. She was that angry.

  One of the new Ansionian delegates peered down the ceremonial table at the well-known and highly respected member of Cuipernam’s diverse business community. The delegation had allowed the Hutt to be present as a courtesy, to observe the vote on behalf of all the city’s business interests. “This offworlder’s words trouble me, Soergg. Could she be so mistaken?”

  The Hutt spread his arms wide. “You all know me here. I am only an ordinary businessperson trying, like the rest of you, to survive on a world where I was not born. Thanks to the warmth and openness of Ansion’s people, I have prospered here. Think now: would I really do anything to jeopardize all that I have accomplished, everything that I have built?” Casting a kindly gaze in the direction of the barely controlled Padawan, he all but wept openly. “Is this the kind of understanding we can expect from envoys of the Senate if we consent to accept this concordance the Jedi bring before us?”

  Oh, but he was clever! Barriss saw. The fat slug was an expert at twisting words to fit the situation. He might be lacking in minutiae like a conscience, or scruples, or legs, but words he had in abundance. She understood now why Master Luminara had warned her to keep silent. One of the first things a true Jedi must do, she remembered reluctantly, was learn to control her temper. At critical moments such as this meeting, personal feelings and individual emotions could not be allowed to intrude.

  So she held in the fury she was feeling, did not try to employ the Force to wrench the smug, bloated Hutt’s eyes out of his swollen head, and sat still as a sculpture chiseled in stone while delegates and Jedi discussed the terms of the proposed agreement between the city and town folk and the Alwari of the open plains.

  She took some small satisfaction in Soergg’s obvious tight-lipped displeasure when the final vote went nine to two in favor of adopting the concordance, with Kandah and an Ansionian from the southern communities voting against it. She also drew some edification from observing how effortlessly and smoothly Soergg subsequently lied, blandly conceding the fairness of the vote and vowing to uphold the terms of the treaty.

  Taking her cue from her training, as well as from what she had just observed, she made her way unchallenged through the congratulatory postvote crowd to confront him directly. He loomed above her, massive but slow moving. Though she did not show it, it did her heart good to sense the first stirrings of fear within him.

  “I hope to meet you again some day, Soergg.” She smiled flatly. “Perhaps in surroundings and under circumstances where diplomacy is irrelevant.” She nodded tersely to where Luminara and Obi-Wan were conversing with several of the other delegates. “And where the expression of my inner feelings is not subject to external constraints.”

  His response was a shrug that sent repulsive ripples through his lumbering body all the way down to his lump terminus of a posterior. “I bear you no ill will, little Padawan. Business is only business.” But his tone, she noted, belied his words. In reality, he was furious and upset.

  “Who hired you to try to stop us?” she couldn’t keep from blurting. “I know who you paid, but who’s paying you?”

  He laughed, a deep and thoroughly unpleasant ho-ho-ho. “Ah, little one, you may know much of Jedi secrets, but nothing of business or politics. Paying me for what? I do whatever I do because it is good for my trade. Always the Jedi seek wheels within wheels, complications in matters simple.”

  “There’s nothing simple about an entire world voting to join a movement that would see it seceding from the Republic.”

  “Secession? Why, that is a dead issue. Was it not just voted down, in your very presence?” he boomed softly.

  “Then you’ll abide by the new treaty between the city folk of the Unity and the people of the plains? You won’t try to subvert it?” She glanced suggestively back in the direction of the entrance, toward the spot where the frantic, shouting intruder had been cut down by the very being she was talking to. “I don’t suppose the individual you shot could have been carrying any incriminating evidence with him, could he?”

  Soergg looked away, an action that was suggestiv
e in itself. “An insidious notion, little Padawan. One unworthy of one as attractive as yourself.” Emerging from between rubbery lips a fat, mollusklike tongue thrust briefly in her direction.

  While the Hutt’s tortuous reasoning was not sufficient to cause her to break off the confrontation, the repulsive gesture and attendant compliment were more than enough to drive her away. She rejoined her colleagues.

  “It’s time we were all of us on our way,” Luminara observed. Turning, she waited while Obi-Wan thanked the representatives for their consideration, and commended them on their wise decision to remain within the Republic.

  Once outside, Barriss tried to put aside her anger as she sidled up next to her fellow Padawan. “How are you feeling, Anakin?”

  He was studying the sky, clearly anxious to leave. “Much better, now that our work here is done.” Seeing that she was still staring at him, he added, “Is something the matter?”

  “No. It’s just that I think I may have misjudged you. I’ve come to know, and to understand, you a little better in the time we’ve been thrown together, Anakin. I realize now that you’re searching for something. Searching harder than most of us, I think.” Reaching out, she put a hand on his arm. “I just want to say that I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

  He glanced over at her in surprise. “I’m looking to become a Jedi, Barriss. That’s all.”

  “Is it?” she challenged him. When he chose not to respond, she added, “Well, if you ever feel the need to talk to someone besides Obi-Wan about it, you’re welcome to confide in me. If nothing else, maybe I can provide a different perspective on certain things.”

  He hesitated, then replied gratefully, “I appreciate that, Barriss. I really do. I know it would be easier to talk to you about—certain things—than to Master Obi-Wan.” He nodded in the direction of the two conversing Jedi.

  She laughed softly. “Anyone is easier to talk to than a Jedi Master.”

  In agreement on that much, they began chatting in earnest, conversing for the first time with the straightforwardness and ease of old friends.

  Luminara eyed them approvingly. It was important for Padawans to get along, because one day they would have to get along as Jedi, sometimes under the most difficult circumstances. Like Anakin, she too took a moment to glance skyward. Beyond the pure blue sky of Ansion, the Republic was in ferment. To the ordinary citizen all would appear normal, but those who were privy to the larger picture knew that vast forces were stirring—and not all of them benign. There was evil afoot. It was the task of the Jedi to root it out and render it harmless. But how was that to be done, when not even the Jedi Council was sure of the source or positive of its intent?

  Not for someone like her to decide, she knew. All I can do is my job.

  No, there was something else she could do. For a little while, at least. Lengthening her stride, she moved to catch up with Obi-Wan Kenobi; to seek his opinion on certain matters of significance, to congratulate him one more time on a job well done, and last but hardly least, to delight in the pleasure of his company.

  There were some small pleasures not even a galaxy full of contentious factions and rising conflict could take away.

  The three had arrived at Bror Tower Three one at a time, so as not to attract attention. Turbolifts had carried them to the 166th floor. While not as secure as an aerial transport, neither were the rooms holding the exhibition of the work of several of Coruscant’s most prominent luminos artists the place where one would expect a trio of the capital’s elite to be planning sedition.

  Shu Mai watched the Ansionian and the Corellian approach. Except for the three of them, the exhibition rooms were empty. The expression on the Senator’s face reflected concern. As for Tam Uliss, he made no attempt to disguise his displeasure.

  “You’ve heard” was all the president of the Commerce Guild murmured. She already knew the answer.

  It didn’t stop the industrialist from nodding emphatically. “Ansion has voted to remain in the Republic.” He glanced sharply to his right. “You didn’t deliver, Senator.”

  Running a long-fingered hand through his mane, Mousul replied stiffly. “I did everything I could. The decision was not up to me. I vote here, in the Senate—not on the Unity Council. My ability to influence them is limited.”

  “This was not the Senator’s fault,” Shu Mai put in quietly. “If those Jedi had not made a peace between the town dwellers and the nomads, the Unity would have voted for secession.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” The industrialist’s tone was curt, his manner impatient. “You’ve both already agreed. We move forward now—with or without Ansion’s withdrawal.”

  “What about the Malarians and the Keitumites?”

  Tam Uliss was unyielding. “Without their withdrawal as well.”

  Shu Mai let out a long sigh. “You know my opinion, and that of the rest of the Guild. Without the impetus that would have been given to our movement by Ansion’s secession, we cannot declare ourselves and our intentions openly. Without the provocation the withdrawal of Ansion and its allies would have provided, we cannot count on sufficient support for our actions.”

  Mousul nodded confirmation. “With Ansion, the Malarians, and the Keitumites still in the Senate, we have insufficient grounds for presenting our demands.”

  “That’s not what you said last week.” Clearly, Tam Uliss was not to be denied. “You remember what you agreed to?”

  “Yes, I remember.” Shu Mai started to her left toward a corridor. “I am not comfortable discussing this matter further here. Others may arrive to view this art exhibition. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging for a secure conference room in Bror Tower Four. Precautions have been put in place and personally checked by my staff. Security droids are now active on station. If you will follow me?” She smiled. “I’m sure we can resolve our differences.”

  “There’s nothing to resolve.” Uliss was adamant. “We decided this last week, during the conference in the aircar.”

  The fellow is so full of himself, Shu Mai thought disapprovingly as they moved out of the exhibition area and down the wide corridor.

  Uliss spoke as they walked. “There comes a time when sentiment will no longer be denied. The others have been ready to declare the movement publicly for nearly a year now.” He searched the Guild president’s face.

  “They would continue to wait, if you had not thrown your support to them.” There was no anger in Shu Mai’s voice, no rancor. Only a simple statement of fact.

  Uliss shrugged diffidently. “I’m sorry for this disagreement, but it can’t be avoided. You would have had us wait indefinitely.”

  “Not indefinitely,” Shu Mai corrected him as she turned and led her companions toward the skyway that led to the next tower. “Only until the time is right.”

  “And when is that to be? After another year of waiting? Two years? Three?”

  “Whatever should prove necessary, my friend.” Their footgear clicked on the smooth floor. Removing a control unit from her waistband, she used it to scan the skyway ahead to make certain it was clear. It wouldn’t do to have some wandering office functionary stumble into them. “I would hope it wouldn’t be that long, but whatever it is, it is.”

  Next to him, Mousul was nodding. “What you and your friends fail to understand, Uliss, is that when it comes to politics, patience is one of the most powerful weapons one can wield.”

  The industrialist shook his head regretfully. “There is time for patience, and then there is a time to move. You’re not going to win this argument, you know.”

  “If we reveal ourselves too soon, no one will win any arguments,” Shu Mai replied with conviction. “I’m sorry we disagree on this, Uliss.”

  The industrialist smiled. “No hard feelings, Shu Mai. Not even you can win every battle.”

  They turned into the skyway. Beyond the transparent walls and roof of the pedestrian walkway that connected Bror Towers Three and Four, Coruscant shone resplendent in th
e scrubbed light of day. Strings of vehicles tracked traffic lines of force through the afternoon air. Automated service craft zipped among the soaring buildings on preprogrammed missions. A fine place, Coruscant. The center of modern civilization. Sooner or later any who sought power, be it political, financial, or artistic, came to Coruscant. Those who sought to influence the affairs of worlds eventually found themselves residing within or standing before the Senate itself, the greatest and most important deliberative body in the galaxy. Each sought to sway its members in his or her or its own way. A little guidance, Shu Mai knew, was all that was needed. A few appropriate suggestions.

  But they must be made at the right time, and under the proper circumstances. She lengthened her stride. Alongside her, Mousul did the same. Idly observing the city outside, Uliss fell a few steps behind.

  Reaching the far end of the skyway, the president of the Commerce Guild whirled. Beside her, Mousul did the same. Raising the unprepossessing device she carried, Shu Mai touched a control.

  Tam Uliss looked understandably surprised when he bumped up against the field. It was quite invisible, and quite impenetrable. The industrialist’s face sped through a remarkable range of expressions in a very short time. His words, which to judge from his appearance were rapidly growing increasingly irate, did not penetrate the barrier that had unexpectedly materialized between him and his companions. Neither did his hands and body.

  The president of the Commerce Guild and the Senator from Ansion contemplated their fuming colleague unblinkingly. The Ansionian’s expression was blank, that of the Guild president thoughtful. A look of dawning alarm came over Uliss’s face. Turning abruptly, he tried to retrace his steps back to Bror Tower Three—only to find himself blocked by a second barrier identical to the one that had materialized in front.

  Stepping up to the barrier, Shu Mai studied the now panicky individual trapped within the skywalk. All the industrialist’s money, all his important contacts, were of no use to him now. It was too bad. While she had not particularly liked Tam Uliss, she had respected him. Not a hand-length from her face, a furious and frightened Uliss was now screaming threats and imprecations at his fellow conspirators. The barrier continued to block the industrialist’s words as well as his fists.