The Approaching Storm (звёздные войны)

by Alan Dean Foster

  The Approaching Storm

  ( Звёздные войны , Star Wars )

  Alan Dean Foster

  In the years since the events of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, the Republic has continued to crumble, and more and more, the Jedi are needed to help the galactic government maintain order. As Star Wars: Attack of the Clonesopens, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker have just returned from a mission on a world called Ansion. Written by beloved Star Warsveteran Alan Dean Foster, and starring a new character from the upcoming movie, The Approaching Stormtells the story of that daring mission.

  The Republic is decaying, even under the leadership of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, who was elected to save the galaxy from collapsing under the forces of discontent. On the tiny but strategic planet of Ansion, a powerful faction is on the verge of joining the growing secessionist movement. The urban dwellers wish to expand into the prairies outside their cities — the ancestral territory of the fierce, independent Ansion nomads. If their demands are not met, they will secede — an act that could jump-start a chain reaction of withdrawal and rebellion by other worlds of the Republic.

  At the Chancellor's request, the Jedi Council sends two Jedi Knights, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luminara Unduli, to resolve the conflict and negotiate with the elusive nomads. Undaunted, Obi-Wan and Luminara, along with their Padawans Anakin Skywalker and Barriss Offee, set out across the wilderness. Many perils lie waiting to trap them. The Jedi will have to fulfill near-impossible tasks, befriend wary strangers, and influence two great armies to complete their quest, stalked all the while by an enemy sworn to see the negotiations collapse and the mission fail…

  The Approaching Storm

  For Shelby Hettinger,

  So that everyone will know you're not kidding,

  From Uncle Alan

  A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY….

  Chapter 1

  "It seems to me that mine is becoming a very important planet, Honorable Shu Mai."

  The president of the Commerce Guild smiled thinly. "Small keys can unlock very big doors, Senator Mousul."

  As they conversed, the dignified quartet strode slowly through the galaxy. Not the actual galaxy, of course, but an immense, intricately delineated, fully three-dimensional representation. It filled the entire private chamber. Stars glowed all around them, enveloping the strollers in a haze of soft, multihued refulgence. By reaching out and touching a planetary system, a visitor could summon forth a detailed, encyclopedic description of that system and its individual worlds: everything from species and population to minute characteristics of flora and fauna, economic statistics, and future prospects.

  One of the strollers was a blue-skinned Twi'lek female who was quiet and contemplative of aspect. Her companion was a very important and readily recognizable Corellian industrialist. The president of the Commerce Guild was short and slender, greenish of skin, with the typical coiffure for females of the Gos-sam species: a rising, upswept tailing. The fourth member of the group, trailing elaborate robes woven from the most exotic materials to be found on his homeworld, was the Senator from the world called Ansion. Despite his high standing, he looked nervous, like someone afraid of being watched. As for the Twi'lek and the Corellian, they were clearly master and supplicant- though the second was a very powerful supplicant indeed.

  The president of the Commerce Guild halted. With a single, expansive gesture she encompassed shimmering pinpoints of light representing a thousand worlds and more. Amazing, she thought, how trillions of sentient beings and entire civilizations could be reduced to mere specks hovering in a single room. If only the reality were as easy to organize and manage as was this efficient, luminous depiction.

  Given time and the assistance of carefully nurtured alliances, she reflected confidently, it would be.

  "Your forgiveness, noble lady," the Corellian murmured, "but my associates and I also do not configure the importance of this world called Ansion."

  Shu Mai clapped her hands softly. "Excellent!"

  Among her three companions, confusion readily crossed species lines. "You find it satisfying that we do not see this place's significance?" the female Twi'lek asked.

  "Absolutely." A tolerant grin creased the Gossam's face. "If you do not see it, then neither will our enemies. Pay attention, and I will do more than make it evident-I will make it visible."

  Turning, she reached into the pulsing panoply of worlds and suns to pass the tips of the fingers of her right hand through a small but centrally located star. With words and gestures, she proceeded to manipulate the system she had singled out.

  In response to her actions, a trio of laser-bright blue lines appeared, linking the first system to three others. "The Malarian Alliance. On the face of it, one of hundreds of such casual alliances." Her slim, deft fingers moved again. Yellow lines appeared, tying the first star to six additional systems. "Keitumite Mutual Military Treaty. Never invoked, but still in force." Her smile widened. She was enjoying herself. "Now, observe this." Her hands proceeded to play with the surrounding galographics like a musician strumming an expensive quintolium.

  When at last Shu Mai finished, her three companions eyed her triumphant handiwork in silence. The four visitors were en closed by a web of lines, straight and uncompromising: blue, yellow, gold, crimson-all the colors of the spectrum. Perhaps even, some dared to think, the colors of an empire.

  And at the nexus of this web of intensely bright, unwavering lines that represented outstanding treaties and alliances, pacts and planetary partnerships, lay a single, suddenly far less insignificant world.

  Ansion.

  With a wave of one hand and a dismissive word from Shu Mai's lips, the elaborate network faded. It would not do to have someone not privy to the machinations of the group walk in unannounced and see what was being discussed. Awkward ques tions might ensue.

  "Who would have suspected that a world such as this could lie at the center of so many interlocking treaties?" The blue-skinned female was suitably impressed.

  "Precisely the point." Shu Mai inclined her head slightly in the female's direction. "There are other worlds that occupy comparable positions of strategic importance; worlds more heavily populated, thoroughly industrialized, and frequently mentioned as important players when the current unsettled state of affairs within the Republic is being discussed. In contrast, no one thinks to bring up Ansion. That is the beauty of it." Steepling her fingers, she glanced significantly at Senator Mousul.

  "If we can get the Ansionians to commit to pulling out of the Republic, no one will really care. But because of their alliances, their withdrawal should be enough to sway their already vacillating partners in both the Malarian Alliance and the Keitumite Treaty to follow. You saw how many other systems are tied, in turn, to both of those pacts. The effect will be as of an avalanche; starting small, growing fast, and accelerating of its own accord. By the time the Senate knows what has hit it, forty systems or more will have withdrawn from the Republic, and we will be well on our way to solidifying the kind of changes we wish to see come about."

  Mousul's fingers clenched tighter and tighter until whiteness showed beneath the skin. "That will be the spark that we need to propose the passage of extraordinary measures to cope with the emergency."

  The Corellian industrialist was all but dancing with excite ment. "It's wonderfully cunning, this plan you've devised! I know that the interests I represent will agree to send a force to Ansion immediately, to compel the inhabitants to withdraw from the Republic." For an instant, Senator Mousul looked alarmed.

  "Which is exactly what we do not want them to do," Shu Mai countered sternly. "As
I seem to recall, the Trade Federation already tried something similar elsewhere. The results were, shall we say, somewhat less than triumphant."

  "Yes, well." The Corellian coughed uncomfortably into one hand. "There were unforeseen complications."

  "That continue to resonate to this day." Shu Mai was unre lenting in her tone. "Don't you see? The beauty of this plan is the seeming insignificance of its linchpin. Send a fleet, or even a few ships, to Ansion, and you will immediately attract the attention of those forces that continue to frustrate us. Obviously, that is the last thing we wish. We want the Ansionian withdrawal to appear wholly natural, the result of internal decisions reached in the absence of external influences." She smiled benignly at Mousul.

  "Will it be?" the Twi'lek asked pointedly.

  Shu Mai eyed her approvingly. She would be useful, she knew. As would the others she had involved-if they could keep their wits about them.

  It was Senator Mousul's turn to respond. "Like so many peoples, the Ansionians are divided as to whether they should remain within the Republic or step outside the corruption and sleaze that permeate it. Rest assured that there are among its citizens those who are sympathetic to our cause. I have taken care and expended considerable political capital to ensure that these elements are appropriately encouraged."

  "How long?" the deceptively soft-voiced Twi'lek wanted to know.

  "Before Ansion decides?" The Senator looked thoughtful. "Assuming the internal divisions continue to widen, I would expect a formal vote on whether to withdraw from the Republic within half a standard year."

  The president of the Commerce Guild nodded approvingly. "At which point we can look on with satisfaction as those who have been traditionally allied to Ansion follow suit, and those allied to the allies fall in turn. Surely, as children all of you played with blocks? There is invariably one key block near the bottom that, if removed, will cause the entire structure to collapse.

  "Ansion is that key. Remove that one block, and the rest of these systems will crumble." Her thoughts, as well as her gaze, seemed to focus on something outside the range of vision of her associates. "On the ruins of the old, decrepit Republic those of us with foresight will build a new political structure, perfect and gleaming. One without any weak links, free of the moralistic waste that encumbers and slows the appropriate development of a truly advanced society."

  "And who will lead this new society?" The female Twi'lek's voice was tinged with just a touch of cynicism. "You?"

  Shu Mai shrugged modestly. "My interests lie with the Com merce Guild. Who can say? That is something yet to be deter mined, is it not? The cause must succeed before leaders can be chosen. While I admit I would not turn down such a nomina tion, I believe there are others who are more qualified. Let us begin with small things."

  "Like this Ansion." Having recovered from the previous mild reproach, the Corellian's enthusiasm had returned full strength. "What a pleasure it would be, what a wonderment, to at last be able to conduct business unencumbered by mountains of superfluous rules, regulations, and restrictions! Those I represent would be forever grateful."

  "Yes, you would at last have the chance to secure the restrictive monopolies you so devoutly seek," Shu Mai observed dryly. "Don't worry. In return for your political and financial support, you and those you represent will receive everything they deserve."

  The industrialist was not intimidated. "And of course," he added shrewdly, "this new political arrangement will open all manner of opportunities to the Commerce Guild."

  Shu Mai gestured modestly. "We are always eager to take ad vantage of shifting political realities."

  In the midst of mutual congratulations and expectations, she noticed that Senator Mousul was saying little.

  "Something burrows in your thoughts like a worm with indi gestion, Mousul. What is it?"

  The Ansionian glanced back at his associate, a look of mild concern on his face. His large, slightly bulbous eyes stared evenly back at the president of the Commerce Guild. "You're sure no one else could winnow out the true nature of these plans for Ansion, Shu Mai?"

  "None has thus far," the other replied pointedly.

  Mousul straightened to his full height. "I flatter myself that I am intelligent enough to realize there are those who are smarter than me. They are the ones who concern me."

  Stepping forward, Shu Mai put a reassuring hand on the Senator's shoulder. "You worry overmuch, Mousul." With her free hand and without regard for tact, Shu Mai gestured, and the point of light that was Ansion reappeared. "Ansion! Look at it. Small, backward, unimportant. If queried, I wager not one politician or merchant in a hundred could tell you anything much about it. No one except those of us in this room are aware of its potential significance."

  Stymied by and angry at the casual venality and suffocating bureaucracy that had come to rule the Republic-and to compli cate his business dealings-the Corellian industrialist could purchase entire companies and whole territories with a mere touch of his imprinting finger. But for all his wealth, he could not buy a glimpse into the future. At that moment, he would have gladly signed over a few billion for the answers to one or two questions.

  "I hope you are right, Shu Mai. I hope you are right."

  "Of course she is." Having agreed to this meeting somewhat reluctantly, the Twi'lek was feeling far more confident of the future following their host's detailed explanation. "I am both impressed and moved by the full scope and subtlety of President Shu Mai and Senator Mousul's strategy. As they have so eloquently pointed out, this world is far too unimportant to attract anything in the way of significant outside attention…"

  Chapter 2

  "Haja, sweet scent-what're you hiding under that big ol' robe?"

  Luminara Unduli did not look up at the large, unshaven, rough-hewn, and unpleasantly fragrant man or his equally coarse and malodorous companions. She treated their knowing grins, the eager forward tilt of their bodies, and their leering eyes with equal indifference-though their collective body odor was somewhat harder to ignore. Patiently, she raised the spoonful of hot stew to her lips, the lower of which was stained a permanent purplish black. A series of interlocking black diamonds tattooed her chin, while more intricate markings decorated the joints of her fingers. The olive color of her skin contrasted strikingly with the deep blue of her eyes.

  These rose to regard the younger woman who was seated on the other side of the table. Barriss Offee's attention shifted between her teacher and the men crowding uncomfortably close around the two of them. Luminara smiled to herself. A good person, was Barriss. Observant and thoughtful, if occasionally impulsive. For now, the young woman held her peace, kept eating, and said nothing. A judicious reaction, the older woman knew. She's letting me take the lead, as she should.

  The man who had voiced the impropriety whispered something to one of his friends. There was a ripple of crude, unpleas ant laughter. Leaning closer, he put a hand on Luminara's cloth-draped shoulder. "I asked you a question, darlin'. Now, are you gonna show us what's under this lovely soft robe of yours, or d'you want us to take a peek ourselves?" An air of pheromone-charged expectation had gripped his companions. Huddled over their food, a few of the establishment's other diners turned to look, but none moved to voice outrage at what was happening or to interfere.

  Spoon pausing before her lips, Luminara seemed to devote greater contemplation to its contents than to the insistent query. With a sigh, she finally downed the spoonful of stew and reached down with her free right hand. "I suppose if you really want to see. ."

  One of the men grinned broadly and nudged his hulking companion in the ribs. A couple of others crowded closer still, so that they were all but leaning over the table. Luminara pulled a portion of her outer robe aside, the intricate designs on the copper- and bronze-colored metal bands that covered her upper forearms glinting in the diffuse light of the tavern.

  Beneath the robe was a metal and leather belt. Attached to the belt were several small and unexpectedly sophis
ticated examples of precision engineering. One of these was cylindrical, highly polished, and designed to fit comfortably in a closed hand. The aggressive spokesman for the group squinted at it, his expression slightly confused. Behind him, a couple of his heretofore hopeful cronies abandoned their leering expressions faster than a smuggler's ship making an emergency jump to hyperspace.

  "Mathos preserve us! That's a Jedi lightsaber!"

  Expressions falling like hard rain, the band of would-be aggressors began to back off, split up, and drift hurriedly away. Unexpectedly deserted, their erstwhile leader was unwilling to admit defeat so quickly. He stared at the gleaming metal cylinder.

  "Not a chance, no. A 'Jedi' lightsaber, is it?" He glared belligerently at the suddenly enigmatic object of his attentions. "I suppose that would make you a 'Jedi Knight,' sweet splash? A lovely, lithe Jedi at that!" He snorted derisively. "Sure and that's no Jedi lightsaber, is it? Is it?" he growled insistently when she failed to respond.