Part Twenty-Nine

This is an almighty small Congress. Fifty-three representatives of the Congress of Billaqori Tribes sat in seven spacious rows of seamless, backless benches, with a narrow walkway cutting through for access to the speaker's platform, which was one meter above the highly polished wooden floor. The seven rows climbed two steps each to a circular promenade about the Congressional seating area. Light from clerestories made the wood gleam amber. Master looks good, even without his full length of hair and beard. More like he did when we first met. Anakin's and Ry-Gaul's seats were in the first row of the crowded gallery and they leaned over the railing when Obi-Wan began to speak.

"Mr. President, venerable members of Congress. May the Mother grant that we all reach the next Festival season in good health. My name is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and I represent the Galactic Republic. I bring warmest greetings from her Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and from our Senate to your Congress." Obi-Wan sought Strenghis' familiar face from the poster and Mace's briefing and found it not in the nearest row, but in the highest, clustered with three other Congressmembers. Obi-Wan assumed these were his Cabinet. He continued building up to the main thrust of his address. "In recent times, Trow has seen change to ready her for a more active role in her sector's politics. Trow has now reached a point where her allegiance is being sought by both the Republic and the Separatists." Obi-Wan's circling glance at his audience centered on Strenghis mere seconds longer than on the rest. "The Separatists have a dispute with their parent, the Galactic Republic, that they have been unable to resolve peacefully. They have seen fit to form their own Confederacy of Independent Systems, which we refuse to legitimize in the hopes that reconciliation will still be possible. It is the desire of the CIS that ten thousand systems will eventually join their cause. I am here, along with my colleagues, to prevent Trow from taking that misstep." That was the warning. Now here comes the alternative. "We of the Republic offer Trow our protection in the form of the Grand Army of the Republic. Its fine Clone troops will respond to any call to arms for you. For your sector's protection, we ask in return permission to build a base near your equator. It will contain a small maintenance force that can be augmented by battalions at a moment's notice." Finally, an offer of hope. "At the war's successful end, Trow will remain in good standing with the Republic and will be offered one extra seat in the Senate, should she care to join. I am open for questions at this time."

Obi-Wan heard someone cracking nuts in the ensuing silence. He knew it couldn't be Anakin. In contrast to other governing groups, the Senate most egregiously, this body thought before it spoke. Three minutes later the first question came. "If we join the Separatists, they offer the same things, plus upgrades on our spaceport here at Nepsa. Can you match?" It seemed the custom for each inquirer to stand.

A dialogue established. Good. "I can. And I will offer a pre-owned but entirely spaceworthy SoroSuub V-35 Courier also." She will be, when she is dredged from Gitchy, viewport repaired, systems rewired, dejarik table replaced, water pumped out ...

"What of the gifts that the Separatists made? Do you have something comparable?" Obi-Wan couldn't see the shadowed faces in the upper seats, but from the point of origin it was a Cabinet member.

"Supreme Chancellor Palpatine asks us to implore you to think carefully on your allegiance. If you grant us the privilege of aligning with you and constructing a base near Gitchy's upper reaches, we will bring instructors to teach you to read Basic as well as speak it. We will impact your inspiring natural beauty as little as possible, while providing local employment."

We will open cantinas with liquor and exotic food, food with fiery spices in it to ameliorate your blandness. Will Qikal approve? Anakin didn't think so. Ry-Gaul sat, all attention, at his side on the unending bench accommodations. The lack of back support did not faze him at all. Anakin straightened in his seat. Go for the aurodium, Master.

"We have heard that a fallen Jedi is the political head of the Confederacy. What do you have to say about that?" It was President Strenghis' first question. He remained in his seat. His voice was low and firm, a quietly powerful instrument.

Obi-Wan did not falter. "True. Count Dooku leads the Confederacy, insinuating that the Republic is a lost cause to reforming bureaucracy's inaction. He proposes an alternative galactic power, yes. He enforces his ideals with the aid of one of the most merciless military minds the galaxy has ever known, General Grievous."

"What if --- "

"Tell me, Master Jedi, are there any neutrals in this war?" Strenghis again. The interrupted Congressmember sat down.

The Negotiator hesitated.

The river meandered.

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