Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [15]
“Please.” A tall, dignified older man waved one hand diffidently. “None of your Jedi subterfuges. We all know you are here to do anything and everything in your power to keep Ansion from voting to join the secessionist movement. Local quarrels of the kind to which you allude are not the purview of the Jedi Council.” He smiled confidently. “In any event, they would not send four representatives to deal with what is essentially a minor internal problem.”
“No conflict is minor to the Council,” Obi-Wan responded. “We hope to see all citizens of the Republic living together in peace and contentment, wherever they may be, whatever species they may represent, whatever their local customs and lifestyles.”
“Contentment!” Reaching under the table, one of the other Ansionians, a female with long vertical lines in her face and one clouded brown eye, pulled out a stack of data disks the size of a building stone and dropped them onto the highly polished surface. They landed with a dull boom. “Lifestyles! Do you know what this is, Jedi?” Before either Luminara or Obi-Wan could reply, she told them. “It’s the latest bimonthly policy update from the Republic Senate. The latest only!” She gestured at the enormous stack as if it were some obscene sea creature that had suddenly expired on her desk and already begun to rot. “The yearly indices alone carry more data than the city library. Compliance, adherence, obedience: those are what the Senate is interested in these days. That, and preferential treatment for themselves and those they represent in matters of trade and commerce. The once-great galactic Republic has fallen under the sway of petty bureaucrats and self-seeking button pushers who seek only personal aggrandizement and advancement, not justice and fair dealing.”
“The Senate’s clear bias toward the Alwari proves this,” declared the female Ansionian seated next to her. “Senator Mousul has kept us well informed.”
“The Senate favors no social or ethnic group above another,” Luminara countered. “That basic principle is enshrined in the founding law of the Republic and has not changed.”
“I happen to agree with the delegate,” Obi-Wan declared quietly.
Surprised and even a little startled, the room’s occupants shifted their attention to the other Jedi. Even Luminara was taken aback.
“Pardon my eyes,” Ranjiyn murmured, “but did you say you agreed with Kandah?”
Obi-Wan nodded. “To deny that there are problems within the Senate and the bureaucracy would be to deny the existence of pulsating stars. Certainly there is confusion and disagreement. Certainly there is bureaucratic infighting and conflict.” His voice rose slightly, though not in the general manner of other people. It was full of controlled energy. “But the law of the Republic stands, pure and inviolate. So long as all participating sentients adhere to that, all will be well within the galaxy.” His gaze fixed on Kandah. “And on Ansion.”
Seated at the end of the table because his massive legs would not comfortably fit under it, Tolut the Armalat finally rose to point one of his three thick fingers at Obi-Wan.
“Jedi obfuscation!” He glared out of small red eyes at his fellow delegates. “See not where this is leading or what is being attempted? They try to fool us with clever words. Think all Ansionians are backworld dust riders, I wager!” Leaning forward over the table, he rested the knuckles of his powerful hands on the smooth purplish wood. Though strong and well made, the table creaked under the weight of his several hundred kilos.
“Masters of the Force, are you? Masters of scheming and sneaky phrases, say I. Jedi mischief!”
“Please, Tolut.” Ranjiyn tried to calm his far larger, highly agitated colleague. “Show some respect for the Force, if not for our visitors. Though we