Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order_ Rebel Dreams_ Enemy Lines I - Aaron Allston [19]
Niuv was the last council member to enter. The remaining members of the council’s company appeared to be aides, datapads in their hands and worried expressions on their faces, and guards, faces impassive, blaster rifles held at the ready position.
Luke rose as the others did, a customary show of respect for Senators and members of the Advisory Council, but he felt a wave of irritation or offense roll off the people already present in the room. So many council guards present suggested that the council didn’t trust Wedge’s security arrangements. It was an insult; Luke simply didn’t know whether it was accidental or deliberate.
Wedge said, “Councilors, welcome to Borl—”
Pwoe held up a hand. “General Antilles, you address not only the Advisory Council but the Chief of State.”
Wedge blinked, then his gaze moved to the clasp being used to hold Pwoe’s robes together. Made of gold, it was the New Republic symbol surrounded by stars. Borsk Fey’lya had occasionally worn it. Luke saw Wedge struggle with his response—Pwoe’s rise to the position of Chief of State was not by any stretch of the imagination a legal one, but in these unsettled circumstances, it might just be a practical reality.
“Congratulations on your promotion,” Wedge said. He gestured for the others to sit, and did so himself. “If I may ask, where are Councilors Cal Omas and Triebakk?”
Pwoe spread his hands, a gesture of ignorance. “Alas, we do not know. We suspect that they perished during the assault on Coruscant.”
“Two more tragedies to add to the list.”
“Indeed.”
That, potentially, was bad news. Omas, a Senator representing the relocated people of Alderaan, and Triebakk, a Wookiee from Kashyyyk, were sensible beings who did not have an irrational dislike of the Jedi. They had been a moderating influence on the Advisory Council. Now, if they were indeed lost, all the members left to the council were largely opponents of the Jedi, advisers who had often argued in favor of finding a way to accommodate the Yuuzhan Vong—to settle the war with negotiation.
Luke felt a surge of suspicion. Had the two missing councilors perished on Coruscant? Or could they have been left behind deliberately by these deal-making bureaucrats—or even been pushed out of an air lock on the trip here? He shook his head, willing those thoughts away.
Mara leaned over, nearly touching foreheads with him. “I felt that,” she whispered. “That was my thought, too.”
Lando leaned into the huddle. “You don’t need the Force for that,” he whispered. “I could read it in Luke’s expression.”
“Shh,” Luke whispered. “Or I’ll make a loud noise.”
Lando leaned away again, his motion hurried.
Pwoe continued to stare at Wedge, impatience evident in his body language. “We should begin.”
“We’ll start in a minute,” Wedge said. “Members of my general staff are still in transit.” His face was fixed in a slight smile. Luke could tell that it was nothing but veneer, a mask covering agitation, irritability.
Pwoe fixed him with an admonishing look. “I understood that you’d be ready for us. Time is pressing.”
There were footsteps in the hall. Booster Terrik, glowering, entered and moved to sit near the table, close to Tycho. There were more footsteps, running footsteps, and Danni Quee skidded through the doors, juggling datapads and portable screens; her hair was an unruly blond mess tied in an off-center ponytail. She slid into a seat near the door, directly behind Corran Horn, and looked at Wedge. “Sorry,” she said.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Wedge said, and looked up at one of the council’s guards. “Doors.”
The guard looked at Pwoe, received his nod, and closed the doors.
“Now we can start,” Wedge said.
Pwoe nodded. “Yes, of course. First, I want to reassure you all that the government of the New Republic is in fine