Worlds that have attempted to ship with other enterprises have found themselves cut off from trade entirely." "The Nebula Front may have laudable goals, but their methods are ruthless," Oppo Rancisis commented, breaking a brief silence.

A scion of royalty from Thisspias, he had red-rimmed eyes and a tiny mouth in a large head that was otherwise covered entirely by dense white hair- piled high at the crown, and extending from his hidden chin in a long beard.

"Go on, Qui-Gon," Plo Koon told him from beneath the mask he was forced to wear in oxygen-rich environments. Like Rancisis, Koon had a keen mind for military strategy.

Qui-Gon tipped his head in a bow of acknowledgment. "Without trying to justify the actions of the Nebula Front, I will say that they tried to reason with the Trade federation before turning to acts of terrorism. Where they might have financed their operations by smuggling spice for the Hutts, they refused to deal with any species that condoned slavery. Even when they finally did turn to violence, they restricted their actions to interfering with Trade Federation shipments or delaying their vessels whenever possible." "Destroying a freighter is certainly one way to delay it," Rancisis said.

Qui-Gon glanced at him. "Gobi's actions were something new." "Then what drove the Nebula Front to escalate the violence?" Gallia asked.

Qui-Gon sensed that she was asking as much for the sake of the council as for Supreme Chancellor Valorum, with whom she had close ties. "My contact claims that the Nebula Front has grown a radical wing, and it is those militants who contracted with Captain Cohl. The Bith and many others were opposed to employing mercenaries, but the militants have assumed command of the organization." Yoda rubbed his chin in thought. "After the aurodium ingots, were they not?" Qui-Gon shook his head. "Frankly, Master, I'm not sure if I accept the Federation's claim." "You have reason to doubt it?" Koon asked.

"It's a question of method. The Trade Federation concedes a preoccupation with safeguarding their cargos.

Why, then, would they entrust a shipment of aurodium to a poorly defended freighter like the Revenue, when the more heavily armed Acquisitor was only a star system away?" "A point, he has," Yoda said.

"I consider the reason obvious," Rancisis disagreed. "The Trade Federation falsely assumed that no one would suspect the Revenue of harboring such wealth." "The question is of little consequence," Gallia said. "The use of mercenaries like Cohl signals the beginning of a coordinated campaign to counter the Trade Federation's droid defenses by force, and ultimately to overthrow Trade Federation influence in the outlying systems." "Fortunately, Captain Cohl is no longer a concern," Plo Koon remarked.

Yoda adopted a wide-eyed look. "Concern Qui-Gon, Cohl does." Qui-Gon felt the council's close scrutiny.

"I don't believe that he perished with the freighter," he said at last.

"You were there, were you not?" Rancisis asked.

"Saw it with his own eyes, he did," Yoda said, with a twinkle in his eye.

Qui-Gon compressed his lips. "Cohl planned for every eventuality. He wouldn't have piloted his craft into an explosion just to evade pursuit."

"Then why didn't you capture him as you hoped to do?" Rancisis asked.

Qui-Gon planted his hands on his hips, thumbs pointed behind him. "As Master Gallia has said, Cohl is only the beginning. My Padawan and I attached a tracking device to Cohl's ship, in the hope of tracking it to the Nebula Front's current base, which could be on one of the Rimma worlds that support the terrorists. After the explosion, the tracker failed to return a signal."

Gallia stared at him for a moment. "You searched for Cohl, Qui-Gon?" "Obi-Wan and I found no signs of his shuttle.

For all we know, he rode the leading edge of the explosion right down Dorvalla's gravity well." "You have informed the Judicial Department of your suspicions?" Rancisis asked.

"Some of Cohl's better-known haunts are under surveillance," Gallia answered for Qui-Gon.

Koon left his chair to stand alongside Qui-Gon. "Captain Cohl may be the best of his ilk, but there are many more like him, just as heartless, just as rapacious. The Nebula Front militants will have no trouble finding eager replacements." Rancisis nodded gravely. "This is something we need to watch closely." Yoda crossed the room, shaking his head back and forth. "Avoid a conflict with the Nebula Front, we must. Speak for many, they do. Compromise us, they will." "I agree," Rancisis said. "We can't afford to take sides."

"But we have to take sides," Qui-Gon blurted.

"I'm not an ally of the Trade Federation. But acts of terrorism by the Nebula Front won't be limited to freighters. Innocent beings will be endangered." Everyone fell silent, except for Yoda.

"A true Knight, Qui-Gon is," he said, with a note of gentle rebuke.

"Forever on his own quest." small, humid world disdained by an aging sun, ationei — moidia was a place to be avoided-even by Neimoidians. Instead of profiting from its relative proximity to self-reliant Corellia and industrialized Kuat, Neimoidia had actually suffered for its placement, having been passed over, time and again, by the fraternity of Core worlds. That heritage of being shunned had informed Neimoidian society.

Scorn had imparted to the species a conviction that progress came to only those who proved themselves not merely capable but predatory. Reaching the top of the food chain required that the bodies of the weak be used as stepping- stones. Once the summit was attained, it was held by seizing whatever resources were available and preventing others from grabbing them.

Those tenets were frequently offered as explanation as to how and why the Neimoidians had risen so rapidly to the fore of the Trade Federation, whose signature was callousness.

Neimoidia's most able typically left home at an early age, opting for lives of itinerant trading aboard the vessels of the Trade Federation fleet.

As a result, Neimoidia was scarcely populated by the weakest of the species, who tended to the planet's vast insect hives, fungus farms, and beetle hatcheries.

Viceroy Nute Gunray shared with his fellow self-exiles a peculiar distaste for his homeworld.

But circumstance had demanded that he meet with the members of his Inner Circle in a location that guaranteed protection from the prying eyes of Coruscant. And in that sense, Neimoidia provided the best possible sanctuary.

The problem inherent in returning home was that one couldn't escape recalling-on some level of cellular memory- — the seven formative years Neimoidians spent as puny, pale, wriggling grubs, in competition with every other grub for survival and the chance to mature into red-eyed, noseless, fish-lipped, and decidedly distrustful adults.