Darth Plagueis - James Luceno [102]
“As do the Jedi,” Qui-Gon said. “But in several instances where we have had to resolve conflicts, it is your name that has surfaced.”
Plagueis shrugged. “The wealthy are held to higher standards than the poor.”
Dooku thought about it. “I blame the Senate for encouraging the galaxy to turn on credit.”
Plagueis glanced from Dooku to Qui-Gon. “I’m willing to concede Master Jinn’s point that the Muuns have cornered the market on finance, if he is willing to concede that the Jedi have cornered the market on ethics.”
Qui-Gon granted Plagueis a dignified bow. “And so we find ourselves on different sides, Magister.”
“Not necessarily. Perhaps we are after the same thing.”
“Different paths to the same destination? It’s a clever rationalization, but I refuse to accept it.” Qui-Gon placed his hands in the opposite sleeves of his robe. “If you’ll excuse me …”
Dooku smiled lightly as the tall Jedi sauntered off. “My former apprentice does not mince words.”
“Frank talk is a rarity these days,” Plagueis said. “The Senate could learn from beings like Qui-Gon Jinn.”
Dooku made a glum face. “The Senate listens only to itself. Endlessly, and without purpose. If it and Supreme Chancellor Darus are going to perpetuate a climate where injustice can advance, then it will.”
Sifo-Dyas grew uneasy. “The Rotunda is an arena even we don’t enter,” he said in a level voice, “except as spectators.”
Plagueis could not restrain a smile. “But you have, from time to time, been known to lobby.” He continued before Sifo-Dyas or Dooku could answer. “It can be a circus. One thing is certain, however: the Core is not holding. New leadership is needed.”
“Darus will undoubtedly be elected to another term,” Dooku said.
Plagueis pretended concern. “Is there no one who can defeat him, Master Dooku?”
“Frix, possibly. Kalpana—eventually. At present he isn’t strong enough to overcome the special-interest lobbies.”
Sifo-Dyas’s unease increased. “We are sworn not to take an active role, in any case.”
“Kalpana would certainly set a different tone,” Plagueis said, “but perhaps an equally risky one. His stance against piratism, smuggling, even slavery is well known. Unfortunately, many of the outer systems survive only because of such practices.”
“Then those worlds will have to find alternative means,” Sifo-Dyas said.
Plagueis turned to him. “Without assistance from the Republic? It begins to sound to me as if the Jedi will have their work cut out for them.”
Sifo-Dyas compressed his lips. “The Judicials and the Jedi will maintain peace.”
“There’s certainty in your voice,” Plagueis said. “But let me pose a question: If discontent spreads and intersystem conflict breaks out—if member worlds threaten secession, as Serenno threatened in times past—would your loyalties not be divided?”
“The Republic will be preserved.”
Plagueis grinned. “Again, that comforting confidence. But suppose the Republic’s goals were not in keeping with the greater good? Suppose conflict grew to become actual schism?”
The two Jedi traded looks. “In the absence of armies there can be no war,” Dooku said.
“Are the Jedi not an army—or at least capable of becoming one should the need arise?”
“We were an army at one time, but our enemies were vanquished,” Sifo-Dyas said with deliberate vagueness. “No matter the extent of the conflict, we would attempt to forge a peace—and without becoming the ruling body you seem to fear.”
Plagueis didn’t reply immediately. Sifo-Dyas was proving to be even more interesting than Dooku, though in a different way. Only a misguided sense of loyalty to the Jedi Order kept him from giving voice to the real extent of his apprenhensions.
“And yet you say forge a peace. That has the ring of semantics to it, Master Sifo-Dyas. But for the sake of argument, what if the disaffected systems raised an army? Wouldn’t the Jedi be obligated to serve and protect the Republic?”
Sifo-Dyas forced an exhale. “From where would these hypothetical