Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [139]
Not for someone like her to decide, she knew. All I can do is my job.
No, there was something else she could do. For a little while, at least. Lengthening her stride, she moved to catch up with Obi-Wan Kenobi; to seek his opinion on certain matters of significance, to congratulate him one more time on a job well done, and last but hardly least, to delight in the pleasure of his company.
There were some small pleasures not even a galaxy full of contentious factions and rising conflict could take away.
The three had arrived at Bror Tower Three one at a time, so as not to attract attention. Turbolifts had carried them to the 166th floor. While not as secure as an aerial transport, neither were the rooms holding the exhibition of the work of several of Coruscant’s most prominent luminos artists the place where one would expect a trio of the capital’s elite to be planning sedition.
Shu Mai watched the Ansionian and the Corellian approach. Except for the three of them, the exhibition rooms were empty. The expression on the Senator’s face reflected concern. As for Tam Uliss, he made no attempt to disguise his displeasure.
“You’ve heard” was all the president of the Commerce Guild murmured. She already knew the answer.
It didn’t stop the industrialist from nodding emphatically. “Ansion has voted to remain in the Republic.” He glanced sharply to his right. “You didn’t deliver, Senator.”
Running a long-fingered hand through his mane, Mousul replied stiffly. “I did everything I could. The decision was not up to me. I vote here, in the Senate—not on the Unity Council. My ability to influence them is limited.”
“This was not the Senator’s fault,” Shu Mai put in quietly. “If those Jedi had not made a peace between the town dwellers and the nomads, the Unity would have voted for secession.”
“It doesn’t matter.” The industrialist’s tone was curt, his manner impatient. “You’ve both already agreed. We move forward now—with or without Ansion’s withdrawal.”
“What about the Malarians and the Keitumites?”
Tam Uliss was unyielding. “Without their withdrawal as well.”
Shu Mai let out a long sigh. “You know my opinion, and that of the rest of the Guild. Without the impetus that would have been given to our movement by Ansion’s secession, we cannot declare ourselves and our intentions openly. Without the provocation the withdrawal of Ansion and its allies would have provided, we cannot count on sufficient support for our actions.”
Mousul nodded confirmation. “With Ansion, the Malarians, and the Keitumites still in the Senate, we have insufficient grounds for presenting our demands.”
“That’s not what you said last week.” Clearly, Tam Uliss was not to be denied. “You remember what you agreed to?”
“Yes, I remember.” Shu Mai started to her left toward a corridor. “I am not comfortable discussing this matter further here. Others may arrive to view this art exhibition. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging for a secure conference room in Bror Tower Four. Precautions have been put in place and personally checked by my staff. Security droids are now active on station. If you will follow me?” She smiled. “I’m sure we can resolve our differences.”
“There’s nothing to resolve.” Uliss was adamant. “We decided this last week, during the conference in the aircar.”
The fellow is so full of himself, Shu Mai thought disapprovingly as they moved out of the exhibition area and down the wide corridor.
Uliss spoke as they walked. “There comes a time when sentiment will no longer be denied. The others have been ready to declare the movement publicly for nearly a year now.” He searched the Guild president’s face.
“They would continue to wait, if you had not thrown your support to them.” There was no anger in Shu Mai’s voice, no rancor. Only a simple statement of fact.
Uliss shrugged diffidently. “I’m sorry for this disagreement, but it can’t be avoided. You would have had us wait indefinitely.”
“Not indefinitely,” Shu Mai corrected