top candidate for the chancellorship.
No Jedi had attached themselves to Ainlee Teem, who was also within view. But the Malastare Gran was widely popular on many Mid and Outer Rim worlds, and enjoyed the support of Senator Lott Dod, of the Trade Federation, and Shu Mai, of the Commerce Guild.
At the center of the domed hall stood Valorum and Sei Taria, who was as media-savvy as she was lovely. Though ineligible for reelection, recently stripped of some of his Senatorial powers, and frequently engaged in defending himself against accusations by the Ethics Committee, Valorum had managed to make himself the center of attention, due to the presence of Masters Yoda, Mace Windu, and Adi Gallia among his followers. Merely by standing with the Supreme Chancellor, the Jedi were sending a message that they would continue to support him for the remainder of his term of office, the calumny of illegal enrichment notwithstanding.
With the Trade Federation fleet still holding in the Chommell sector, and without a besieged world to generate sympathy and support for his nomination, Palpatine might have been just one more potential nominee — but for the company of Hego Damask; Banking Clan co-chairman San Hill; recently appointed Senate Vice Chairman Mas Amedda; and Senator Orn Free Taa, a moving target for Antilles’s investigation into corruption and now ostracized by the Rim Faction for backing Palpatine.
“It’s almost time,” Palpatine said. He indicated a gardened area of dwarf trees and shrubs close to where Ainlee Teem was conferring with a handful of Senators. “I’ll trade quips with the Gran, then find some pretext to excuse myself.”
Damask grunted noncommittally. “My own target is in sight, in any case.”
Without further word the two separated, Damask weaving his way through the crowd toward a grim-faced, bearded human Jedi who was standing apart from everyone, observing the scene.
“Master Sifo-Dyas,” he called.
The topknotted Jedi turned and, recognizing him, nodded in greeting. “Magister Damask.”
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
Sifo-Dyas shook his head, his gaze fixed on the breath mask. “No, I was …” He exhaled and began again, adjusting his stance. “Until your recent arrival on Coruscant, I was under the impression that you had retired.”
Damask loosed an exaggerated sigh. “It is not in a Muun’s blood to retire. I work now with only a few powerful but largely invisible clients.”
The Jedi lifted a graying eyebrow. “It seems I can’t view a news holo that doesn’t feature you and Senator Palpatine, who is anything but invisible.”
“To my thinking, he is the only one capable of rescuing the Republic from the brink.”
Sifo-Dyas grunted. “To remain untouched by scandal for twenty years is in itself extraordinary. So perhaps you’re right.”
Damask waited a moment, then said, “I have never forgotten our discussion on Serenno.”
“What discussion was that, Magister?”
“We spoke at some length of threats that were assailing the Republic even then.”
Sifo-Dyas grew pensive. “I have some vague recollection.”
“Well, what with assassinations, taxation of the free-trade zones, posturing by the Trade Federation, and accusations of political impropriety, the conversation has been much on my mind of late. Fractiousness, factionalism, intersystem conflicts … Even in this hall the Jedi appear to be divided in their loyalties. Master C’baoth here, Masters Yoda and Gallia there, and yet no sign of Master Dooku.”
Sifo-Dyas said nothing.
“Master Jedi, I want to share with you a suspicion I’ve been carrying like a burden.” Damask paused. “I have reason to suspect that the Trade Federation has secretly been procuring more weapons than anyone realizes.”
Sifo-Dyas’s forehead furrowed. “Do you have evidence of this?”
“No hard evidence. But my business demands a thorough knowledge of the investment markets. Also, my clients sometimes reveal information to me in private.”
“Then you’re breaking confidentiality by coming to me with this.”
“I am. But only because I believe so strongly that what was once speculation is now fact. To go further, I predict that a civil war is brewing. I give the Republic fifteen years at the most. Soon we’ll see disgruntled star systems begin to secede. They will lack only a strong, charismatic leader to unite them.” He fell briefly silent before adding: “I will be blunt with you, Master Sifo-Dyas: the Republic will be vulnerable. The Jedi will be too few to turn the tide. A military needs to be created now, while there’s still a chance.”
Sifo-Dyas folded his arms across his chest. “I encourage you to share this with Supreme Chancellor Valorum, or even Senator Palpatine, Magister.”
“I intend to. But even under Chancellor Valorum’s watch this Senate will not overturn the Reformation Act. Too many Senators have a financial stake in galactic war. They are heavily invested in corporations that will grow fat on profits from weapons and reconstruction. War will be beneficial for an economy they now view as stagnant.”
“Are you willing to state this in front of an investigatory committee?”
Damask frowned with his eyes. “You have to understand that many of these corporations are owned and operated by my clients.”
A dark look came over the Jedi’s face. “You have read my thoughts, Magister. I have also sensed that war is imminent. I’ve confessed as much to Master Yoda and others, but to no avail. They give all appearances of being unconcerned. Or preoccupied. I’m no longer sure.”
“Master Dooku, as well?”
Sifo-Dyas sniffed. “Unfortunately, Magister, Dooku’s recent statements about Republic discord and our Order’s ‘self-righteousness’ have only added to my concern.”
“You said that you have some vague recall of our conversation on Serenno. Do you remember my mentioning a group of gifted cloners?”
“I’m sorry, I do not.”
“They are native to an extragalactic world called Kamino. I have on occasion done business with them on behalf of clients who desire cloned creatures, or require cloned laborers capable of working in harsh environments.”
The Jedi shook his head in uncertainty. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“I believe that the Kaminoans could be induced to grow and train a cloned army.”
Sifo-Dyas took a long moment to reply. “You said yourself that the Republic would never sanction an army.”
“The Republic needn’t know,” Damask said cautiously. “Neither would the Jedi Order have to know. It would be an army that might never have to be used, and yet be available in reserve should need ever arise.”
“Who in their right mind would fund an army that might never be used?”
“I would,” Damask said. “Along with some of my associates in the Banking Clan — and in conjunction with contacts in Rothana Heavy Engineering, which would supply the ships, armaments, and other materiel.”
Sifo-Dyas fixed him with a look. “Come to the point, Magister.”
“The Kaminoans will not create an army for me, but they would do so for the Jedi Order. They have been fascinated by the Jedi for millennia.”
Sifo-Dyas’s dark brown eyes widened. “You’re not proposing cloning Jedi—”
“No. I have been assured that such a thing is impossible, in any case. But I have also been assured that a human army a million strong could be ready for deployment in as few as ten years.”
“You’re suggesting that I circumvent the High Council.”
“I suppose I am. The Kaminoans need only a modest down payment, which I could provide to you through untraceable accounts I maintain in Outer Rim banks.”
Again, the Jedi remained silent for a long moment. “I need time to consider this.”
“Of course you do,” Damask said. “And when you’ve reached a decision, you can contact me at my residence downside.”
Sifo-Dyas nodded in glum introspection, and Damask spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. Palpatine was just returning to the place where they had been standing earlier, his eyes and his movements suggesting unusual excitement.
“You have the holocron?” Damask said as he approached.
