Shots Fired/Part 9

Dawn was just lighting the horizon when Tirien Kal-Di and Narasi Rican made their way across the Avenue of the Core Founders that fronted the mushroom-shaped Senate Building. Coruscant's Weather Control was apparently in a feisty mood, because a wind howled across the broad, flat Senate Plaza, whistled through the arms and legs of the towering Core Founder statues and snapping the cloaks of the two Jedi behind them. Tirien was silent, seeming indifferent to the wind and the long walk and oblivious to the grand sight of the domed building that was their destination.

Narasi walked two steps behind her master, occasionally looking up at the enormous statues. She had never before visited the Senate Building, and even the statuary outside was awe-inspiring, but her enthusiasm was lacking. Other than a reproof the night before for speaking out of turn to the Council, her master had said nothing to her, and she had restrained her instinct to ask questions, afraid of irking her dour master further.

She felt very small for an entirely different reason as they finally entered the building, the blue-robed Senate Guards standing aside deferentially for two Jedi. The Senate Building, she knew, was ancient, having stood since shortly after the Great Sith War thousands of years before. She wondered at the history of this building that had seen the rise and fall of countless governments—and was now watching the fall of the Republic.

"Is that the rotunda, Master?" she couldn't stop herself from asking as they emerged from a turbolift to an upper-level suite of offices. She pointed to a door guarded by another pair of Senate Guards.

He glanced at it once without even breaking pace. "Yes."

Narasi knew better than to ask a follow-up, though she would have loved to see the chamber, or go and visit the Supreme Chancellor, who was a Jedi like her, although a seasoned Master and former High Council member. She followed in Tirien's wake instead as the Pantoran led her to the senator's office.

Within, a pair of Human guards blinked sleep out of their eyes as they stood to either side of an equally weary secretary. The guards perked up a little bit as they saw Tirien, but when their gazes fell on her, Narasi felt them become suddenly much more wary. She felt a little shiver of disquiet as the guards' eyes narrowed and one laid a hand on his holstered blaster.

"Identify yourselves," one guard ordered.

Tirien stopped, and Narasi came to a halt a step behind him. "I'm Tirien Kal-Di," he said in that same cool, emotionless voice he always used except when he was criticizing Narasi. "This is Narasi Rican."

The same guard frowned. "You're expected, Master Jedi," he confirmed reluctantly, then looked at Narasi with clear disgust. "Though I don't know why you brought this with you."

Narasi tried to meet his gaze without flinching or showing any anger or hurt. I am a Jedi, she told herself.

"This is my Padawan apprentice," Tirien replied, a slightly sharper note in his voice than before. Narasi had gotten used to him talking about her apprenticeship that way, though it still stung.

"Hmph," the guard replied, then gestured over his shoulder. "The senator's waiting. You can go in, but the Zygerrian will have to wait here."

Narasi felt her chest tingle with shock; she exposed her fangs reflexively, but it was more hurt than anger. She couldn't believe they would talk that way to a Jedi, and she was humiliated that they would speak that way in front of her, like she wasn't even there; her clan mates had never behaved this way, or even the Jedi Masters who taught her. It wasn't the first time she'd been treated this way, but still…

But the worst part was knowing she would have to sit down and take it. Her master had made clear how much he didn't like her, and certainly he wouldn't miss the opportunity to shrug her off while he went in to have the real Jedi conversation with Senator Iltek. Determined to at least not embarrass him in front of the guards, willing her face not to flush, Narasi turned toward one of the chairs in the waiting room, resolving to spend the time in meditation so she wouldn't have to consciously sit under the hateful glare of the two Humans.

But as she started to move, Tirien laid a hand on her shoulder and restrained her.

"Narasi is my Padawan and a Jedi," he repeated, and Narasi felt another shiver. Even after just a week, she had thought she knew Tirien's "cold" voice thoroughly, but it was nothing like the cold in his tone now. Both guards flinched. "The senator will see both of us or neither of us."

Narasi's heart leapt, but her master wasn't done. Taking a step forward, he said icily, "And if it's neither of us, he can fend for himself against the Sith. And you'll answer to the Supreme Chancellor for his life."

The Human guards were clearly affronted, but Tirien stared them down, and after a moment the one who had spoken swallowed, clenched his jaw, and stepped aside. Tirien swept past him without another word, and Narasi followed without looking at the guards. She felt a surge of warmth in her chest, a sudden spring of affection for her master. He might be hard and demanding, even a little unfriendly, but here, when it had really counted, he had come through for her. She was a little ashamed of herself for doubting him.

The door opened before them, and Narasi saw a middle-aged, balding Human sitting at a desk, reading a report on a monitor while massaging his left temple with two fingers. He looked up at their approach and rose; his eyes lingered on Narasi a fraction longer than on Tirien, but he didn't comment on her presence as he offered his hand.

"Glavial Iltek," he introduced himself. "Tirien Kal-Di, I presume?"

"That's me," the Pantoran replied, shaking hands. "This is my Padawan, Narasi Rican."

Narasi offered her hand; Senator Iltek hesitated, but shook once. "Well, I appreciate having you both along. I'll die before I let those Sith trash force me out of my own home, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not do any dying in the first place."

"The High Council is committed to ensuring your safety, Senator."

"That's reassuring." Senator Iltek reseated himself, gesturing to the chairs on the other side of the desk, and the two Jedi sat. "What are we looking at?"

Narasi looked at her master, who shook his head. "Our intelligence is thin," he admitted. "But the order came from the Council of Five directly."

The Human whistled. "Well, shows I'm doing something right, then, eh?"

When neither Jedi responded, the senator looked between them, then harrumphed. "Chatty types, I see. Well, good thing I'm the one making the speech."

He got to his feet, pacing behind the desk. Narasi clenched the arms of her chair to brace herself, but her master didn't rise, and she slowly settled back down. The Pantoran followed the senator's movements with his eyes, but kept his hands folded in his lap and his face emotionless. Narasi tried to copy his posture.

"It's a big venue," Senator Iltek mused. "Lots of people milling about, lots of noise. What's your strategy?"

Narasi watched her master steeple his fingers, eyes narrowing in thought. "What's the venue?"

"The largest distribution center for the Taanab stockyards, in Pandath," the senator answered with a bit of pride, and Narasi remembered Taanab was a major agriworld. "Half the roba steaks in the Core pass through there."

Tirien nodded, then said after a moment, "Without knowing how the Sith plan to strike, we need to stay close to you."

"Well, certainly," Senator Iltek conceded with a frown, "but it'll look too paranoid for me to have Jedi escorts."

Tirien frowned, leaning forward. "Your support of the Order is well known, Senator, and Taanab's too; we still have a chapter house there. Surely it's not a surprise to your people?"

"No, but…well, you need to understand, Taanab was settled less than a millennium ago. We're farmers and factory workers, Jedi Kal-Di, hardworking beings.  We earn what we have through our own sweat and effort.  My people see me with Jedi bodyguards at my shoulder, and they'll think I'm losing connection with the common being.  My world is dead in the Sith's sights," he added darkly, "but we can't spare Jedi to protect all of my people."

"But you're their senator!" Narasi insisted. "Don't they want you to be safe?"

She swallowed as Tirien chastised her with a look, but Senator Iltek laughed once without humor and answered her. "Oh, if the Sith put a lightsaber through my heart, they'd all mourn me. But right up until then, they need to know I'm still one of them, or they'll think I've grown too fond of Coruscant and forgotten what the war is like outside the Core."

Tirien sat back, and they both looked at him. "We still have to stay close," he said. "Perhaps as your staff, or your guards."

Senator Iltek looked at Narasi, and she thought she understood what he was thinking. Her ears lowered a little.

"Forgive me, Padawan Rican," he said, "but I think my people would rather see me with Jedi bodyguards than a Zygerrian."

Tirien waved a hand vaguely before Narasi could respond. "Your guards wear helmets, we can cover her face. I need her to stay close.  If I get bogged down in a duel, she'll be the only thing between you and whatever else the Sith have in store."

"Her and my guards," the senator reminded him, but he looked thoughtful. He eventually mustered a smile for Narasi. "Well, you're a little short for a senator's bodyguard, Padawan Rican, but we'll make it work. I'll take as many lightsabers between me and the Sith as I can get."