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Once inside, the guards allowed Valorum a bit of breathing room, but that was only because every guest and every droid servant had been scanned, well in advance of his arrival. The house itself had been gone over top to bottom by the security detail, who had turned part of the estate into their tactical command and control headquarters. Snipers roosted in the trees and on the parapets, and gunships patrolled the offshore waters.

Testament to the priorities of Eriadu’s leaders, Seswenna Hall, where the summit was to take place, was an even more elaborate structure. A dome of enormous dimensions, it crowned a high mount at the center of the city and rose in mosaic splendor to a height of some two hundred meters.

Valorum had expected to be feted, but he had not been prepared for so sizable a gathering. With Sei Taria at his side, he was announced to a ballroom filled with dignitaries representing worlds throughout the Mid and Outer Rims. From Sullust, Malastare, Ryloth, and Bespin they had come; few of them enamored with Valorum, but all of them eager to be heard on the matter of taxation of the free trade zones.

“Supreme Chancellor Valorum,” the man who had made it all happen said, “Eriadu is honored to receive you.”

Lieutenant Governor Tarkin was a wiry man, with intense blue eyes, sunken cheeks, and an expressionless mouth. His brow was high and bony, and his taut face seemed to reveal the size and shape of every bone beneath. Already receding at the temples, his black hair was combed straight back and meticulously cut. He stood tall and straight as a military officer and projected an air of aristocratic officiousness.

Valorum recalled hearing that Tarkin, in fact, had served in the military when Eriadu was part of what had then been known as the Outland Regions.

“Did Senator Palpatine arrive with you?” Tarkin asked.

“He had some lingering business to attend to on Coruscant,” Valorum replied. “But I’m certain that the Naboo delegation will arrive in time for the summit’s opening remarks.”

Tarkin appraised Valorum openly as they stepped down into the ballroom, the crowd parting before them.

“It’s a rare occasion when anyone involved in Republic politics leaves Coruscant,” Tarkin continued. “Something of a prison, isn’t it? Should duty ever call for me to be confined to one place, I will at least demand that I have ample space around me.” He waved his thin arms through a broad circle.

Valorum forced a smile. “The trip was short and pleasant.”

“Yes, but for you to leave the Core, and to come here … It’s nothing less than extraordinary.”

“Nothing less than necessary,” Valorum said.

Tarkin arched a brow as he turned slightly. “Necessary perhaps, but certainly unprecedented. And I believe it speaks strongly of your desire to do what is best and right for the outlying systems.” He lowered his voice to add, “I trust you weren’t distressed by the riots.”

Valorum frowned. “I observed no riots. There was a crowd of protestors at the spaceport, but—”

“Ah, yes. Of course, you couldn’t have seen the rioters, because your convoy was rerouted at the last instant.”

Valorum wasn’t sure how he was meant to respond.

“May I say how disquieted we were to learn of the recent attempt on your life, Supreme Chancellor. But then, I suppose we all have our local troubles. Ryloth has its smugglers, King Veruna of Naboo has his detractors, and Eriadu has the Trade Federation and the possibility of taxation of the trade routes.”

Valorum was aware of some of the less-than-welcoming looks he was receiving from Tarkin’s guests. “News of the assassination attempt doesn’t appear to have granted me much sympathy in this room.”

Tarkin gestured in dismissal. “Our fears regarding taxation revolve around the potential for increased corruption, as is ever the case when additional layers of bureaucracy are positioned between those with power and those without.

“But that doesn’t mean we favor separatism, or encourage open rebellion. Like other worlds along the Rimma, Eriadu has many Nebula Front supporters, but I am not one of them,