Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [131]
Soergg was not in the mood to mince words, even at the sacrifice of his beloved sarcasm. “Those accursed Jedi are back!”
“Back?” Ogomoor looked blank. “Back where?”
Vast yellow eyes glared down at him, and Ogomoor was glad he had not moved any closer. “Back here, you idiot!”
Genuinely taken aback, the first assistant gaped at his master. “Here? In Cuipernam?”
“No,” Soergg growled dangerously. “In my sleeping quarters.” Voicing a curt command, he called forth another commdroid from the cabinet in which they were stored in multiples. “They’re at the city inn where they stayed subsequent to their initial arrival. At least we retain one competent informant! Get over there. Take whatever you need. Hire whomever you need. Maybe, just maybe, they’re too tired to ask questions and will retire for the rest of the day. If not—if it appears they are coming out and heading for the Cuipernam municipal complex—stop them. Do whatever you must. But keep them from reaching the complex. They must not be allowed to interfere with the vote of the Unity delegation. Not now. Not when we are so close to achieving everything we have worked for.” The Hutt made a visible effort to calm himself as he checked the newly activated commdroid’s chronometer.
“Hold the Jedi until sunset. After sunset the vote will have been taken and it won’t matter what they do. But prior to the setting of this benighted planet’s sun, none of them must be allowed to reach the municipal hall.”
“Yes, Bossban. You said I should do whatever I must.” He hesitated. “If I have to take steps, they might be in full view of the populace.”
“Cross-spit the populace! We will deal with any adverse public reactions later. It is not local reaction I am concerned with.” Grunting, he leaned toward his majordomo. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Bossban,” Ogomoor replied somberly.
“Then what are you doing standing here oozing mental fluids? Go. Now.”
Ogomoor went.
The manager was a Dbarian; all tentacles, warts, and worry. That it was astonished to see them again, alive and well, was a given. Suffice to say that its flexible unsegmented extensions turned bright blue with surprise.
Were there rooms available for its honored guests? Did one eat a loomas head-first? And could the manager possibly notify the Unity delegation that the visiting Jedi had returned, with a signed treaty not only from the Alwari overclan but the Januul as well?
The Dbarian executed its kind’s equivalent of a frown. “You mean, honored guests, that you have not yet informed the delegation of this important achievement?”
Tired but happy, Luminara shook her head by way of response. “Our comlinks were lost during our sojourn on the plains, and neither the Borokii nor the Januul employ them.” She smiled. “Tradition.”
“But …” The Dbarian’s chromophores were flashing different shades of maroon, indicating bewilderment. “The Unity delegation is voting on the matter of secession from the Republic today.”
“Today?” Anakin pushed right up among the manager’s serpentine limbs. “But we haven’t made our report to them yet. Surely they wouldn’t vote on so important a matter without waiting to hear from us?”
Behind him, Obi-Wan was thinking fast and hard. “The sentiment for secession is strong among certain Ansionian factions, and we know they are being encouraged by offworld elements. Enemies of the Republic could very well have used our recent lack of communication to press for a vote.” He eyed the manager intently. “You said that the voting session is to be held today. What time today?”
“That I do not know, honored guest. It is not something an innkeeper needs to keep track of. But