pronker

Part Twenty-Nine

This is an almighty small Congress.

Fifty-three representatives of the Congress of Billaqori Tribes sat in seven circular 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 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. Qikal must be on a lower rung of the governmental hierarchy, because I don't see him here. 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?" The sun had moved and 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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Part Thirty

During the unending night when Obi-Wan's fate seemed to be permanent assignment to the AgriCorps the following morning, he accessed one or two files on gardening before sinking into a funk. Gardening used the Living Force aspect to an alarming degree. He would be expected to aid in providing food for the galaxy, which appealed to his altruism; it was the down and dirty part that took him aback. Matching crops to the correct soil conditions ascertained through the Force's display of finely graded ratios of nutrients and minerals, combined with climatology divination, seemed like laboratory work to him. He hadn't expected that to be in his life to such a degree. He would rather rely on the Jedi Analysis room droids, SP4 and the like. He hadn't wanted to become a droid himself. They were programmed to be neutral.

Then Qui-Gon burst in on his life. In one way, Qui-Gon was the essence of neutrality. He would have communed with the stoneslugs to their capacity, maybe apologized to them before relishing their pink flesh. Had situations been reversed and the stoneslugs feasted on him, Qui-Gon would have accepted the situation with his usual grace. When Tahl joined the Force, Qui-Gon's neutrality deserted him temporarily, but returned after a long, sad while. In those days years ago, neutrality was possible in the galaxy. These were not those days.

He had to be honest. "There are. Bothawui began as neutral and still is. Orto began as neutral, but latest reports are of a coup and Intel doesn't yet know the outcome. Neutrality is possible, Mr. President, but I would be dissembling if I did not inform you that this war is escalating and the chances are that neutrality will not be respected by the Separatists." So Strenghis thinks he can stay neutral. And have sophisticated weapons. And outwit the Separatists. Mother.

"Thank you, Master Jedi, for your report. We here have much to discuss, but first, some refreshment. Please join me for lunch outside on this lovely day."

Mmmmmm, maybe there'll be stoneslugs. I'm hungry. A buffet set up on trestles in a flagstoned courtyard held the usual things at these functions: two or three complex dishes to show off Cook's talents, along with staples for the finicky. Obi-Wan, Ry-Gaul, and Anakin bypassed the staples, large steam tubs of purple mucilage, for the adequately presented grain mush dotted with chopped stoneslugs, also choosing tumblers of a clear juice. Anakin couldn't look at the steamed whole fish which had yellow eyes. He was loyal that way.

President Strenghis sought them out. The duly elected leader of Trow projected an aura of purpose tinged with deceit. Within his scope, he ruled Trow with all his might. It was the lack of scope in the broad meshes of the President's mind that alerted Obi-Wan that here was someone to instruct. Obi-Wan determined to instruct him, but Strenghis got in the first word. "An honor to embrace you, Master Jedi." Obi-Wan put down his plate and they exhanged the hearty embrace of the Billaqori. It lingered long after it should have, Strenghis' stocky form giving a squeeze that lifted Obi-Wan from his feet. Obi-Wan used Jedi breath control to avoid heaving his chest in an attempt to breathe, and grinned as he looked Strenghis in the eye. He returned the clasp harder and harder until Strenghis' grip loosened. They both stepped back. Strenghis settled on a bench and gestured. "Gentlemen, keep me company, please." The Congress paid attention to their meals, rarely speaking. It made for a nice break from trying to converse, balancing a full plate on one's lap, and laughing at questionably funny jokes that the Jedi routinely endured. The three of them relaxed.

Half an hour later, Congressmembers straddled benches or lounged informally on the ground around the President and his guests. One elderly woman nodded in the almost-hot sun. This was new, this was disarming. Obi-Wan tensed.

"We have one question."

"I shall do my best."

A Cabinet member stood tall, her lavalava cinched with a raffia belt interwoven with liana blossoms. "And the Jedi leading the army? We have heard of your extraordinary abilities. As a Master, can you give a demonstration?"

This should never enter the equation, but it usually did. It didn't matter that the Force was real and true and fueled his heart; Obi-Wan always felt like a charlatan when asked to demonstrate its power. In the middle of the courtyard, a naynabo tree, the largest one the Jedi had seen, bloomed in full summer glory. It had no seats secured to it; nothing occluded its natural beauty. Obi-Wan would need Anakin's help and their bond for this. He spoke in a low voice to the young man. "Anakin, a small assist, please. Follow my lead." In a graceful gesture, the two Jedi placed their hands at waist-level and opened their fingers as if cupping something in their palms. Nothing happened for many minutes. The Force moved quietly and with its own agenda, as it usually did. Then the remaining unopened small red blossoms unfolded in slow motion, twitching as if in a tiny breeze. As everyone watched, these newest blooms stopped developing at their peak. The three Jedi gasped along with the small crowd. The others couldn't read it, but to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ry-Gaul, a distinct Osk and Aurek appeared, contrasting with the older, slightly faded blooms. "It's an optical illusion, Padawan. It's chance," Obi-Wan said and turned to address the group.

The river stammered.

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