Star Wars_ Cloak of Deception - James Luceno [46]
Palpatine’s eyebrows went up. “Already?”
“Our benefactor told us that the Revenue—”
“It’s best if I don’t know how you received them,” Palpatine interrupted.
Havac nodded in comprehension. “One possible problem. It’s in the form of aurodium ingots.”
“Aurodium?” Palpatine sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Yes, that could present a problem. I can’t very well distribute ingots to those senators we hope to … impress.”
“Too easy to trace,” Havac said.
“Precisely. We’ll have to have the aurodium converted to Republic dataries, even though that will require some time.” Palpatine fell silent for a moment, then said, “May I suggest that one of my aides help you set up a special account with a bank on an outlying world that won’t ask questions about the origin of the ingots. Once the aurodium is safely deposited there, you’ll be able to transfer funds through the InterGalactic Bank, and draw against the account in the form of Republic credits.”
Havac clearly liked the idea. “I know you’ll put the funds to the best possible use.”
“I’ll do all within my power.”
Havac smiled in admiration. “You are the voice of the outer systems, Senator.”
“I am not a voice of the outer systems, Havac,” Palpatine rejoined. “If you insist on awarding me an honorific, then consider me the voice of the Republic. You need to remember this, because if you begin to think in terms of inner systems against outer systems, star sectors against rims, there can be no unity. Instead of equality for all, we will end up with anarchy and secession.”
Standing just outside of the Jedi Temple’s east-facing gate, Qui-Gon gave thought to where he should wander. The day was warm and cloudless, except to the north, where microclimatic storms were swirling about the summits of some of Coruscant’s taller buildings, and Qui-Gon had nothing to do.
He set out walking into the sun, memories of his youth surfacing, as if images glimpsed in the riffling of a deck of sabacc cards. As ever, he saw himself inside the Temple, meditating, studying, training, making friends and losing some. He recalled a day he had stolen into one of the spires and had had his first real look at Coruscant’s fantastic cityscape, and how from that moment forward he had yearned to explore the city-planet from bottom to top. A quest that would remain a dream until well into his teen years and, in fact, had yet to be completely fulfilled.
On those rare occasions when students were permitted to leave the Temple, they moved about like groups of tourists, and always in the company of chaperons of one sort or another. Visits to the Galactic Senate, the Courts Building, the Municipal Authorities Building … But in those early explorations Qui-Gon saw enough to understand that Coruscant was not the fabled land he had first imagined it to be. The planet’s climate was more or less regulated, its original topography had long ago been leveled or buried, and what nature there was existed indoors, where it could be tended to and controlled.
Because it resided in all life, the Force was in some sense concentrated on Coruscant. But one felt the Force differently there than on worlds in their natural state, where the interconnectedness of all life created subtle shifts and rhythms. If on many worlds the Force was a gentle murmur, on Coruscant it was a howl—a white noise of sentience.
Qui-Gon had nothing in mind beyond walking. The huge holomap in the High Council spire indicated hundreds of distant trouble spots and emergencies, but the Reconciliation Council hadn’t gotten around to assigning him and Obi-Wan to any of them. He wondered if Yoda and some of the others were angry about his seeming obsession with Captain Cohl.
To Qui-Gon’s thinking, the council members were too willing to dismiss Cohl as nothing more than a symptom of trying times, when he was much more than that. But, then, the Council had a tendency to dwell on repercussions, on future events, rather than the present. Yoda, especially, was fond of saying that the future was always in motion,