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“You didn’t mention you were inviting me to a political rally,” Qui-Gon said, as he and Adi Gallia arrived at the expansive plaza that fronted the senate.

“I didn’t know,” Adi said, plainly astonished by the sight.

Mixed-species crowds extended from the pedestaled building itself, clear to the terminus of the Avenue of the Core Founders. The balconies there overlooked a sprawl of spired buildings, their close-set summits rising below the plaza.

“Where are you supposed to meet him?” Qui-Gon said loudly enough to be heard over the periodic chants and general clamor.

“Outside the north entrance,” she answered, close to his ear.

Tall enough to see over the heads of many in the crowd, Qui-Gon gazed toward the senate dome. “There’ll be no getting to him—not if I know the Senate Guard.”

“Let’s try, anyway,” Adi said. “Otherwise, we’ll go to his private office in the Presidential Tower.”

Qui-Gon took Adi’s hand and began to edge into the crowd. This far from the building, there was no telling the pro-Valorum from the anti-Valorum protestors.

Qui-Gon stretched out with his feelings.

Beneath the current of anger and dissent, something else was in the air. Coruscant’s usual howl was charged with menace. He sensed danger—not the vague sort that might emanate from any gathering of this nature, but specific and targeted. He closed his eyes momentarily and allowed the Force to guide him.

His opened eyes found a Bith, standing at the leading edge of one gathering. The Force bade Qui-Gon look to his left, to two Rodians, lurking near the tall base of one of the statues. Closer to the senate’s north exit stood two Twi’leks and a Bothan.

Qui-Gon raised his gaze to the ceaseless traffic flow above the plaza’s north end. A green air taxi caught his eye. Disk-shaped and open-topped, with a semicircle of stabilizers below, it was no different from most of the other taxis that filled Coruscant’s sky. But the fact that it was riding outside the defined corridor of the autonavigation lane told Qui-Gon that the pilot—another Rodian—knew the skylanes well enough to have been granted a free-travel permit.

Not far below the taxi, just at the rim of the plaza, hovered an eight-lobed repulsorlift platform, atop which sat Chancellor Valorum’s personal shuttle.

Qui-Gon swung to Adi. “I sense a disturbance in the Force.”

She nodded. “I feel it, Qui-Gon.”

He glanced up at the air taxi, then cut his eyes to the Rodians positioned near the statue base. “The Supreme Chancellor is in danger. We need to hurry.”

Unclipping their lightsabers from their belts, they began to thread their way through the crowd, their brown cloaks billowing behind them. They reached the north exit in time to see a phalanx of guards surge into the plaza. Behind them came Valorum and his young aide, at the center of six other guards, who were steering the couple toward the docking platform.

Qui-Gon looked up. The air taxi reversed direction and began to hover above the plaza. At the same instant, the two Twi’leks began to hasten toward Valorum, their hands buried in the sleeves of their loose robes.

The chanting rose to a crescendo.

Suddenly, blaster bolts streaked from the crowd, catching two of the most forward guards and dropping them to the paving stones. Screams erupted and the crowd panicked, rushing every which way to avoid danger.

Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and moved toward the Twi’leks. Weapons drawn, they fired, only to see the bolts deflected by the brilliant green blade of Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. Additional bolts darted from the Rodians’ blasters, but Qui-Gon moved quickly and managed to deflect those. He twirled, raising his weapon to parry fire, careful to divert the bolts above the heads of the scattering demonstrators.

The Force told him that Adi, her azure blade ignited, had angled for Valorum, who was effectively pinned to the plaza by his guards.

A muffled explosion sounded nearby, launching clouds of astringent white smoke and further terrifying the fleeing demonstrators.

Qui-Gon understood at once that the detonation was only a distraction.