Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [5]
“It’s difficult to persuade opposing sides of the rightness of your reasoning when they’re both dead.” Turning up one of Cuipernam’s side streets, chaotic with traders and city folk of many different galactic species, Luminara spoke while scanning not only the avenue but also the flanking walls of commercial and residential buildings. “Anyone can handle a weapon. Reason is much more difficult to wield. Remember that the next time you’re tempted to settle an argument with a lightsaber.”
“I bet it’s all the fault of the Trade Federation.” Barriss eyed a stall dripping with jewelry: necklaces and earrings, rings and diadems, bracelets and hand-sculpted flash corneas. Such conventional personal ornamentation was forbidden to a Jedi. As one of her teachers had once explained to Barriss and her fellow Padawans, “A Jedi’s glow comes from within, not from the artificial augmentation of baubles and beads.”
Still, that necklace of Searous hair and interwoven pikach stones was just gorgeous.
“What did you say, Barriss?”
“Nothing, Master. I was just expressing my dissatisfaction at the continuing scheming of the Trade Federation.”
“Yes,” Luminara agreed. “And the Commerce Guilds. They grow more powerful by the month, always sticking their money-hungry fingers in where they’re not wanted, even if their immediate interests are not directly involved. Here on Ansion, they openly support the towns and cities that are loosely grouped together as the Unity of Community even though the law of the Republic guarantees the rights of nomadic groups like the Alwari to remain independent of such external influences. Their activities here only complicate an already difficult situation.” They turned another corner. “As they do elsewhere.”
Barriss nodded knowingly. “Everyone still remembers the Naboo incident. Why doesn’t the Senate simply vote to reduce their trade concessions? That would settle them down a bit!”
Luminara had to fight to keep from smiling. Ah, the innocence of youth! Barriss was well meaning and a fine Padawan, but she was unsophisticated in the ways of governance.
“It’s all very well to invoke ethics and morals, Barriss, but these days it’s commerce that seems to rule the Republic. Sometimes the Commerce Guilds and the Trade Federation act like they’re separate governments. They’re very clever about it, though.” Her expression twisted. “Fawning and bowing before emissaries of the Senate, issuing a steady stream of protestations of innocence: that Nute Gunray in particular is as slippery as a Notonian mudworm. Money equals power, and power buys votes. Yes, even in the Republic Senate. And they have powerful allies.” Her thoughts turned inward. “It’s not just money anymore. The Republic is a soiled sea roiled by dangerous currents. The Jedi Council fears that general dissatisfaction with the present state of governance is giving way to outright secession on many worlds.”
Barriss stood a little taller as she strode along beside her Master. “At least everyone knows that the Jedi are above such matters, and aren’t for sale.”
“Not for sale, no.” Luminara sank farther into preoccupation.
Barriss noted the change. “Something else troubles you, Master Luminara?”
The other woman mustered a smile. “Oh, sometimes one hears things. Odd stories, unaccredited rumors. These days such tales seem to run rampant. This political philosophy of a certain Count Dooku, for example.”
Though always eager to display her knowledge, Barriss hesitated before responding. “I think I recognize the name, but not in connection with that title. Wasn’t he the Jedi who—”
Stopping sharply, Luminara threw out a hand to halt her companion. Her eyes flicked rapidly from side to side and she was suddenly no longer introspective. Her every nerve was alert, every sense on edge. Before Barriss could question the reason for the action, the Jedi had her lightsaber out, activated, and fully extended before her. Without