Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [141]
A slight creaking noise filled the end of the hallway, quickly rising to a groaning. Uliss stopped pounding on the unyielding barrier. His rage turned to uncertainty, then to surprise. Metal failed, composite dissolved. Both palms pressed against the barrier, the industrialist was still looking at Shu Mai and the Senator as the entire skywalk broke away first from Bror Tower Three, then from Tower Four, and plunged toward the surface 166 floors below.
Walking right to the edge of the opening that had been torn in the side of the building, Shu Mai leaned over and looked down. Even amid the noise of the great city and given the distance to the ground, the skywalk still made a very loud splintering, shattering sound when it struck. The president of the Commerce Guild gazed thoughtfully down at the wreckage for a long moment before turning and moving back into the hallway that was now exposed to the air outside. Across the intervening gap, an identical hole had been torn in the side of Bror Tower Three.
“Structural fatigue,” she murmured to Mousul. “Uncommon in this day and age, but not unheard of.”
“Indeed,” the Senator from Ansion replied noncommittally.
“Such an important person. A terrible tragedy. Terrible. I will deliver the eulogy for Tam Uliss myself.” Long-fingered hands folded behind her back, she started down the hallway.
“That’s thoughtful of you, Shu Mai.” The Senator took a deep breath. “When they learn what has happened to Tam Uliss, after what happened to Nemrileo of Tanjay, I don’t think any of the others will give us any more trouble.”
“I agree. Our support should be more manageable once again.”
The Senator gestured down the hallway. “If you don’t mind, I think I will leave you now, as I have work of my own to do this afternoon.”
The president of the Commerce Guild gestured understandingly. “I understand. I have work of my own to do as well.”
They parted amiably; Mousul to return to his Senatorial duties, Shu Mai to her private office. There she locked herself in so tightly that nothing short of a small nova could interrupt her. Only when she was sure that everything was secure did she activate the special code sequence that put her in contact with the remarkable individual to whom she was charged with reporting the progress of the conspiracy on Coruscant.
When a familiar face appeared before her, she began speaking without hesitation. “There have been some—problems. The Jedi succeeded in making peace between the urban and nomad factions on Ansion. As a result, the Unity delegates on Ansion voted to keep their world in the Republic.”
The voice on the other end was firm, confident. “That is too bad. It will force us to scale back our immediate plans.” The face smiled. “I wouldn’t have thought the Jedi could accomplish it. Not in so short a time.”
“Something else. While Senator Mousul remains firmly committed to the cause, a number of our supporters were preparing to move forward despite Ansion’s decision. It was necessary to deliver an—object lesson,” She proceeded to explain.
The individual on the other end of the secure communication listened quietly until Shu Mai had finished. “While I regret the loss of the industrialist Tam Uliss, I understand the reasoning behind your actions.” Without quite knowing why, the president of the Commerce Guild felt much relieved. “It doesn’t matter. Events advance, designs move forward. We can swallow the loss.”
“The resolve of the Guild remains strong,” Shu Mai told him.
Count Dooku smiled. “As does that of our other backers. I consider this nothing more than a temporary setback. The eventual outcome is inevitable, no matter what the irksome Jedi do. Great changes are at hand. Destiny awaits us, my friend. It comes, and soon. Those who are ready will be the ones to profit greatly.”
It was a good thought to cling to, Shu Mai mused as the transmission was terminated. Deactivating the privacy shielding, she rose and left the room.
There was much to be done.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALAN DEAN FOSTER has