Grace O'Connor was practically flying down the ship's corridor. The Zeltron woman was searching for the cabin where Li Noriega was staying.
In the time since they'd last seen each other, she'd missed talking to her friend terribly and was eager to catch up. Besides, Sumeragi clearly had something to tell her.
At last, she found the door she was looking for. Grace burst into her friend's cabin without knocking. The lights were off, and at first she couldn't make out anything inside.
"Sumeragi, where are you? Come here—I need a hug."
Stepping fully into the cabin, she closed the door behind her. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Glancing around, the Zeltron found what she was looking for on the bunk. Li hadn't even taken off her uniform—she must have fallen asleep like that. Without a shred of remorse, Grace nudged her awake.
"Sumeragi Li Noriega! You failed your test!"
"What? How?!" Li jolted upright instantly.
"Relax, it's just me. Hutt, my friend, you look awful. Tell me everything—right now. I saw it all in flashes and have no idea what really happened. And you know I'll die of curiosity."
"Oh, Grace… I'm glad to see you too," Li Noriega murmured. "You know, more than once I thought we'd never see each other again. But… we're alive."
"No, no, that won't do at all!" O'Connor protested.
"Grace… let me rest a little. I'm exhausted," Sumeragi whispered, burying her face in the pillow.
The Zeltron nodded silently. Sumeragi's tone made it clear she didn't want to talk. Carefully, Grace helped her remove her jacket. The dim light made details hard to see, but she noticed a small scar on Li Noriega's head.
Looks like she really took a beating.
"Then good night for now, First Lieutenant," Grace whispered, tucking the blanket around her friend before quietly slipping out of the cabin. The interrogation could wait.
***
Bail Organa left his personal corvette and stepped onto the landing pad. He had been away from the galactic capital for only four days, and he could hardly believe the alarming changes that had taken place during his brief absence. Alderaan had never seemed so heavenly and pristine compared to the planet he had just arrived on.
"Additional identification is required. Please present your documents," said the clone trooper from the patrol circling the landing pad.
Faceless soldiers armed with blasters blocked the shuttle landing platforms and squares, lining up in front of banks, hotels, theaters—anywhere the planet's inhabitants gathered. They carefully studied the crowd, stopping anyone who fit the profile of a potential terrorist or provocateur, searching citizens, their property, and even their homes. Not on a whim—whatever anyone said, clone soldiers had no whims. They acted as they had been taught and carried out their duties in service to the Republic.
The ubiquitous presence of soldiers seemed to irritate Bail. He tried to attribute his unease to the fact that he himself came from peaceful Alderaan, but that was only part of the explanation. What troubled him most was the ease with which most Coruscantians had adapted to the changes—their willingness, almost eagerness, to give up their personal freedoms in the name of security. A false security. Coruscant seemed far from the war, yet at the same time it stood at its very epicenter…
Twelve years ago, the Senate had been concerned with only one thing: getting rid of Finis Valorum, his predecessor, Antilles, once said to Organa. Valorum, who had believed he could bring honesty to the Senate's activities. Even in those days, Palpatine had influential friends.
At first, Organa had hoped that with Palpatine's arrival everything would fall into place, but over time he became disillusioned. The Separatist Crisis that broke out two years ago rekindled his fading hope: the Chancellor acted decisively, yet peacefully. A Loyalist Committee was formed, and preparations began for peace talks with Count Dooku. However, those hopes were dashed and turned to dust.
Everything changed when the true extent of the separatist threat became known. When nearly ten thousand worlds, attracted by promises of free and unlimited trade, broke away from the Republic. When corporations with powerful private armies, such as the Commercial Guild and the Techno Union, signed partnership agreements with Dooku. When the entire outer part of the Rimma Trade Route became inaccessible to Republic ships…
That was when everything went downhill. The assassination attempt on Padme Amidala. The battle on Geonosis. The emergency powers granted to Palpatine by the Senate. The creation of the Grand Army of the Republic. War…
Bail remembered well the day he stood beside Palpatine, Speaker Mas Amedda, and representatives of Malastare and other worlds on the Senate balcony, watching hundreds of thousands of clone troopers march into the cavernous holds of massive ships bound for war with the Separatists. He remembered exactly how he had felt in that moment: utter despair. After a thousand years of peace, war and evil had returned to the galaxy.
Or rather, they had been allowed to return.
When the air taxi landed in the spacious square before the mushroom-like Senate Building, several of his friends and colleagues were already waiting for him: Padme Amidala of Naboo, Mon Mothma of Chandrila, the human senators Terr Taneel, Bana Breemu, and Fang Zar, and the humanoid senator Chi Eekway.
As Bail approached, the slender, short-haired Mon Mothma hurried forward and embraced him.
"You've arrived just in time, Bail," she whispered in his ear. "The Chancellor's meeting will begin any minute now."
Padme also embraced him, albeit a little stiffly. She seemed to glow. Her face was slightly rounder than Bail remembered, but she still possessed the same classic beauty, dressed in an elegant outfit and wearing an elaborate hairstyle. Behind her stood a golden protocol droid. She mentioned that she had just returned from Naboo, where she had spent several days visiting her parents.
"Naboo is an amazing world," said Bail. "I can't understand how it could have produced someone as stubborn as our Supreme Chancellor."
Padme frowned and grumbled, "He's not stubborn, Bail. You just don't know him like I do. Palpatine will take our concerns very seriously."
"Well, if that's the case," Chi Eekway said, frowning in dissatisfaction.
"You underestimate Palpatine's insight," Padme replied. "Besides, he values candor."
"We have always been candid with him, Senator," said Fang Zar, a dark-skinned man with a patchy beard. "And to no avail."
Padme looked at them thoughtfully.
"One thing is certain," said Bana Breemu, wrapped from head to toe in a flowing silk robe. "Palpatine's supporters will try to quietly push through more laws that will expand the Chancellor's powers or further escalate the war. And, to be honest, they have every chance of succeeding."
Eekway nodded gravely.
"We can try to protest," said Fang Zar, "but we shouldn't count on that outcome."
As they entered the vast building, the conversation gradually shifted to more personal matters. The senators chatted animatedly as they made their way toward the doors of the Chancellor's office, located directly beneath the Grand Chamber. Palpatine's secretary, responsible for coordinating meetings with Senate representatives, greeted them and invited them inside.