Star Wars_ Cloak of Deception - James Luceno [79]
Tarkin lightened his diatribe with a self-deprecating laugh. “Forgive the ravings of a lowly lieutenant governor, Supreme Chancellor. Moreover, I realize that it is hardly the Republic’s way to answer violence with violence.”
“I would have thought the same, until recently,” someone nearby interjected.
Disdain and provocation mixed in the genteel, feminine voice, and the speaker was every centimeter a lady, from the train of her priceless gown to her dazzlingly jeweled tiara.
Tarkin smiled thinly as he offered his crooked arm to the heavyset woman and introduced her. “Supreme Chancellor Valorum, it is my pleasure to present Lady Theala Vandron, of the Senex sector.”
Taken off his guard, a flushed Valorum nodded his head in a courtly bow. “Lady Vandron,” he said without emotion.
“It may interest you to know, Supreme Chancellor, that the hostage situation on Asmeru has been, shall we say, resolved.”
“Asmeru?” Tarkin said. “What’s this?”
Valorum quickly regained his composure. “The Republic dispatched a peace delegation of judicials and Jedi to confront agents of the Nebula Front based there.”
Tarkin looked at him askance. “Confront or contain?”
“Whichever was deemed appropriate.”
Tarkin’s face lit up in revelation. “So that’s why several judicials and Jedi were called away from Eriadu. Well, either way, it appears that our policies are perhaps not so antithetical, after all, Supreme Chancellor.”
“On the heels of an assassination attempt, the Supreme Chancellor takes direct action in non-Republic space,” Lady Vandron said, looking at Tarkin. “We are obliged to commend him on his willingness to venture so far from home in such difficult times.”
Valorum accepted the left-handed compliment with wellborn reserve. “Rest assured, madam, and Lieutenant Governor Tarkin, that Coruscant is in good hands.”
While Valorum didn’t enjoy universal support even on Coruscant, his absence was felt, especially in the governmental district, where there was a hint of mischief in the air.
The members of the Galactic Senate awarded themselves liberal leave while the trade summit was in progress. But a diligent few reported to their offices in the senate building, if only to catch up on work.
Bail Antilles was one of them.
He had spent the morning drafting a proposal that would ease the trading tension between his native Alderaan and neighboring Delaya. When he broke for lunch, he had nothing more on his mind than a tall glass of Gizer ale at his favorite restaurant near the Courts Building. But politics foiled his plan, in the form of Senator Orn Free Taa, who intercepted him in the senate’s most public of corridors.
The corpulent blue Twi’lek was riding a hoversled.
“May I glide beside you for a moment, Senator Antilles?” he asked.
Antilles made a gesture of acceptance. “What is it?” he said, plainly annoyed.
“To come directly to the point, some rather interesting data has found its way to me. I thought to bring it to the attention of Senator Palpatine, but he suggested that you, as chair of the Internal Activities Committee, were the one to whom I should speak.”
Antilles started to protest, then sighed in resignation. “Go ahead, Senator.”
Taa’s thick head-tails quivered slightly in anticipation. “As you know, I’ve recently been appointed to the Allocations Committee, and in that capacity I have been delving into precedents and legalities for Supreme Chancellor Valorum’s proposed taxation of the free trade zones. Clearly, such taxation will have unanticipated consequences and ramifications, but we’re hoping to impede corruption by imagining scenarios of what is likely to occur, should the proposal pass muster in the Senate.”
“I’m certain you are,” Antilles muttered.
Taa took the sarcasm in stride. “The Supreme Chancellor has stated his wish that a percentage of those revenues garnered through taxation of the trade routes—for all intents and purposes, taxation of