Cloak Of Deception (звёздные войны)

by Джеймс Лучено

  "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 h
adn'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 b
e 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.