Star Wars: Cloak of Deception - Hardcover

James Luceno is the New York Times bestselling author of the Star Wars novels Millennium Falcon, Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader, Cloak of Deception, Labyrinth of Evil, as well as the New Jedi Order novels Agents of Chaos I: Hero’s Trial and Agents of Chaos II: Jedi Eclipse, The Unifying Force, and the eBook Darth Maul: Saboteur. He is also the author of the fantasy novel Hunt for the Mayan Looking-Glass, available as an eBook. He lives in Annapolis, Maryland, with his wife and youngest child.

The four walls of Finis Valorum's office, at the summit of the
governmental district's stateliest if not most statuesque edifice, were
made of transparisteel, paneled by structural members into a continuous
band of regular and inverted triangles.

The city-planet that was Coruscant--"Scintillant Orb," "Jewel of the
Core," choked heart of the Galactic Republic--spread to all sides in a
welter of lustrous domes, knife-edged spires, and terraced
superstructures that climbed to the sky. The taller buil-ings resembled
outsize rocketships that had never left their launch pads, or the
wind-eroded lava tors of long-dead volcanoes. Some of the domes were
flattened hemispheres perched on cylindrical bases, while others had the
look of shallow, hand-thrown ceramic bowls with finialed lids.

Striations of magnetically guided sky traffic moved swiftly above the
cityscape--streams of transports, air buses, taxis, and limousines,
coursing between the tall spires and over the mesureless chasms like
schools of exotic fish. Instead of feeding, however, they were the
feeders, distributing the galaxy's wealth among the greedy trillion to
whom Coruscant was home.

As often as Valorum had beheld the view--which was to say, nearly every
day of his now seven years as Supreme Chancellor of the Republic--he had
yet to grow indifferent to the spectacle of Coruscant. As worlds went,
it was neither large nor especially rugged, but history had transformed
it into a uniquely vertical place, a vertical experience more common to
ocean than atmospheric life.

Valorum's principal office was located in the lower level of the
Galactic Senate dome, but he was generally so swamped by requests and
business there that he reserved this lofty perch for meetings of a more
private nature.

Pale hands clasped at his back, he stood at the bank of transparisteel
windows that faced the dawn, though daybreak was hours behind him. He
wore a magenta tunic that was high-collared and double-breasted, with
matching trousers and a wide cummerbund. Southern light, polarized by
the transparisteel panels, flooded the room. But Valorum's sole guest
had taken a seat well out of the light's reach.

"I fear, Supreme Chancellor, that we face a monumental challenge,"
Senator Palpatine was saying from the shadows. "Frayed at its far-flung
borders and hollowed at its very heart by corruption, the Republic is in
grave danger of unraveling. Order is needed, directives that will
restore balance. Even the most desperate remedies should not be
overlooked."

Although such opinions had become the common sentiment, Palpatine's
words pierced Valorum like a sword. The fact that he knew them to be
true made them all the more difficult to hear. He turned his back to the
view and returned to his desk, where he sat heavily into his padded
chair.

Aging with distinction, Valorum had a receding cap of shorn silver hair,
pouches under piercing blue eyes, and dark, bushy brows. His stern
features and deep voice belied a compassionate spirit and questing
intellect. But as the latest in the line of a po-litical dynasty that
stretched back thousands of years--a dynasty many thought weakened by its
uncommon longevity--he had never been fully successful at overcoming an
innate patrician aloofness.

"Where have we gone wrong?" he asked in a firm but sad voice. "How did
we manage to miss the portents along the way?"

Palpatine showed him an understanding look. "The fault is not in
ourselves, Supreme Chancellor. The fault lies in the out-lying star
systems, and the civil strife iniquity has engendered there." His voice
was carefully modulated, occasionally world-weary, seemingly immune to
anger or alarm. "This most recent situation at Dorvalla, for example."

Valorum nodded soberly. "The Judicial Department has re-quested that I
meet with them later today, so they can brief me on the latest
developments."

"Perhaps I could save you the trouble, Supreme Chancellor. As least in
terms of what I've been hearing in the senate." "Rumor or facts?"

"A bit of both, I suspect. The senate is filled with delegates who
interpret matters as they will, regardless of facts." Palpatine paused,
as if to gather his thoughts.

Prominent in a kind if somewhat doughy face were his heavy-lidded,
watery blue eyes and rudder of a nose. Red hair that had lost its youth
he wore in the provincial style of the outlying systems: combed back
from his high forehead but left thick and long behind his low-set ears.
In dress, too, he demonstrated singular allegiance to his home system,
favoring embroidered tunics with V-shaped double collars and outmoded
cloaks of quilted fabric.

A sectorial senator representing the outlying world of Na-boo, along
with thirty-six other inhabited planets, Palpatine had earned a
reputation for integrity and frankness that had set him high in the
hearts of many of his senatorial peers. As he had made clear to Valorum
in numerous meetings, both public and private, he was more interested in
doing whatever needed to be done than in blind obedience to the rules
and regulations that had made the senate such a tangle of procedures.

"As the Judicial Department is certain to tell you," he began at last,
"the mercenaries who assaulted and destroyed the Trade Federation vessel
Revenue were in the employ of the Nebula Front terrorist group. It seems
likely that they gained access to the freighter with the complicity of
dockworkers at Dorvalla. How the Nebula Front learned that the freighter
was carrying a fortune in aurodium ingots has yet to be established. But
clearly the Nebula Front planned to use the aurodium to finance
additional acts of terrorism directed against the Trade Federation, and
perhaps against Republic colonies in the Outer Rim."

"Planned?" Valorum said.

"All indications are that Captain Cohl and his team of assassins
perished in the explosion that destroyed the Revenue. But the incident
has had wide-ranging repercussions, nevertheless."

"I'm well aware of some of those," Valorum said, with a note of disgust.
"As a result of continuing raids and harassment, the Trade Federation
plans to demand Republic intervention, or, failing that, senate approval
to further augment their droid contingent."

Palpatine made his lips a thin line and nodded. "I must confess, Supreme
Chancellor, that my first instinct was to refuse their requests out of
hand. The Trade Federation is already too powerful--in wealth and in
military might. However, I've since reassessed my position."

Valorum regarded him with interest. "I'd appreciate hearing your
thoughts."

"Well, to begin with, the Trade Federation is made up of entrepreneurs,
not warriors. The Neimoidians, especially, are cowards in any theater
other than commerce. So granting them permission to enlarge their droid
defenses--slightly, at any rate-- doesn't concern me unduly. More
important, there may be some advantage to doing so."

Valorum interlocked his fingers and leaned forward. "What possible
advantage?"

Palpatine took a breath. "In exchange for honoring their re-quests for
intervention and additional defenses, the senate would be in a position
to demand that all trade in the outlying systems would henceforth be
subject to Republic taxation." Valorum sat back in his chair, clearly
disappointed. "We've been through all this before, Senator. You and I
both know that a majority of the senate has no interest in what happens
in the outer systems, much less in the free trade zones. But they do
care about what happens to the Trade Federation."

"Yes, because the shimmersilk pockets of many a senatorial robe are
being lined with graft from the Neimoidians." Valorum snorted.
"Self-indulgence is the order of the day." "Undeniably so, Supreme
Chancellor," Palpatine said tolerantly. "But that, in itself, is no
reason to allow the practice to continue."

"Of course not," Valorum said. "For both my terms of office I have
sought to end the corruption that plagues the senate, and to unravel the
knot of policies and procedures that thwart us. We enact legislation,
only to find that we cannot implement it. The committees proliferate
like viruses, without leadership. No fewer than twenty committees are
needed just to determine the decor of the senate corridors.

"The Trade Federation has prospered by taking advantage of the very
bureaucracy we've created. Grievances brought against the Federation
languish in the courts, while commissions belabor each and every aspect.
It's little wonder that Dorvalla and many of the worlds along the Rimma
Trade Route support terrorist groups like the Nebula Front.

"But taxation isn't likely to solve anything. In fact, such a move could
prompt the Trade Federation to abandon the outlying systems entirely, in
favor of more lucrative markets closer to the Core."

"Thus depriving Coruscant and its neighbors of important outer system
resources and luxury goods," Palpatine interjected, seemingly by rote.
"Certainly the Neimoidians will see taxation as a betrayal, if for no
other reason than the Trade Federation blazed many of the hyperspace
routes that link the Core to the outlying systems. Regardless, this
could be the opportunity many of us have waited for--the chance to
exercise senate control over those very trade routes."

Valorum mulled it over briefly. "It could be political suicide."

"Oh, I'm well aware of th...