Star Wars_ Cloak of Deception - James Luceno [38]
Valorum allowed the grumbling to go on for several moments before he gestured again for silence.
“We urge that the worlds of the free trade zones move quickly and decisively. Terrorist groups like the Nebula Front are merely the tip of a more deep-seated discontent. By working in accordance, the volunteer militaries and space corps of the affected systems can quell local insurrections before they swell to widespread revolution.
“The direct consequence of this will be the abolition of the free trade zones. The trade routes to those outlying systems that join the Republic would henceforth be subject to the same taxation that applies to routes in the Core, the Colonies, and the Inner Rim. I urge you to consider that such action is long overdue. For free trade is no longer that when all trade is controlled by one cartel.”
Clamorous cheers and boos punctuated the air, but reaction was not as mixed as Palpatine had feared it might be. Still, he was disappointed. Valorum had made a case for taxation without addressing any of the consequences or the possible compromises that might be made.
Before such a motion could be enacted as legislation, special interest groups—on the payroll of the Trade Federation or similar concerns—would register their protests. Then the motion would move to committee, where it would be further weakened. After that, it would be burdened with ancillary legislation, aimed at appeasing the special interest groups and lobbyists. Finally, it would be endlessly debated, in the hope of continued deferral.
But there were ways to cut through the bureaucratic tangle. Exasperated, Palpatine glanced around the amphitheater, wondering who would make the first move—figuratively and literally.
It was the Neimoidians who acted, loosing their balcony from the inner wall and directing it to the center of the rotunda. Detached, the platforms resembled sleeker versions of the repulsorlift air taxis that filled Coruscant’s skies. Word had it that some of the platforms moved more rapidly than others—even on autopilot—which was crucial, since delegates frequently raced to be recognized by the Supreme Chancellor.
“We recognize Delegate Lott Dod,” Valorum said, “representing the Trade Federation.”
Lott Dod wore rich robes and a tall, black miter. A saucer-shaped hovercam with a single antenna rushed in to broadcast his flat-faced likeness to the screens built into the display consoles of the balconies.
“We submit that the senate does not have the right or the authority to enact taxation of the outlying trade zones. This is nothing more than a ploy to break up our consortium.
“It was the Trade Federation who opened the hyperlanes to the outlying systems, who risked the lives of its space-faring captains to bring formerly primitive worlds into the Republic, and new resources into the Core.
“Now we learn that we are expected to defend ourselves against the mercenaries and pirates who masquerade as freedom fighters, merely to enrich themselves at our expense. We come before you asking for aid, and instead become the victim of an indirect attack.”
From delegations representing the Commerce Guild and the Techno Union came loud shouts of encouragement.
“If the senate does not wish to intercede with the Nebula Front—or, indeed, if it is incapable of doing so,” Dod continued, “then it must at least grant us what we need to defend ourselves. As it is, we are defenseless in the face of far superior fighters.”
Where some cheered and some booed, Valorum merely nodded. “Commissions can be appointed to determine if additional defense capabilities are warranted at this time,” he said sternly.
Another balcony dropped from the curved wall.
“We recognize Ainlee Teem, delegate of Malastare,” Valorum