Danse Macabre/Part 8

Tirien allowed the senators and military officers to flow forward, lingering at the back of the dais along with Dijir F'rat. Khofin of Knylenn was first among them, of course, but Tirien did not begrudge him that; he appreciated some distance between them. He was not entirely comfortable with Narasi's capitulation, and though she had handled it with remarkable stoicism and grace, his pride in her only made Tirien angrier. He could not meet the Chancellor in such a state, so he took the time for Empty Meditation. Narasi was strong enough to survive her disappointment, he told himself, and while the Republic's elite should see deeper than skin and species—should model the values on which the Galactic Republic was built—at the end of the day, Khofin was a politician, not a Jedi.

When he had stilled himself inside, Tirien finally stepped forward. He recognized most of the Chancellor's advisors on sight, though the Vice Chancellor was absent—still on Coruscant, Tirien imagined, in case Intelligence's vague and increasingly frustrated warnings amounted to anything. He was more interested by the tough-looking Jedi Knights on either side of the Chancellor, closer even than his blue-robed Senate Guards. One was a Duros Tirien vaguely remembered from the Temple; the other was a dark-skinned male Human Tirien didn't know.

Central to them all was Phnyong, Supreme Chancellor of the Republic and a former Master of the High Council. A head taller than Tirien but barely half as wide, the Verpine Jedi Master had rail-thin limbs that would not have supported anything broader than his slender torso; his Jedi robes hung on his body as if someone had draped them on a coat rack that had come to life. Two long mandibles clicked at his low-set mouth and his antennae swept back from his head, but even though his eyes were enormous and glossy, Tirien could feel the wisdom behind their gaze.

Advancing, Tirien bowed in respect. "Master."

"Hello Tirien." They had met on occasion—Phnyong's time on the High Council went back to Tirien's Padawan days—but even in the Verpine's slightly buzzy voice, accompanied by the click of his mandibles, there was no politician's artifice. He spoke with genuine warmth; Tirien felt the recognition of a kindred spirit, a brother Jedi for all the difference in their stations, and he felt his tension fade a little. "And you, Dijir. It's very good to see you both."

"Welcome to Anaxes, Master," Dijir said, then added to the Chancellor's bodyguards, "and to you both, brothers."

Phnyong looked around. "I don't see your Padawan, Tirien."

Tirien mastered the temptation to turn a cold stare on Khofin of Knylenn, who hovered at the Chancellor's shoulder—within the embrace of the Blue Guards, Tirien did not fail to note, but a step past the two Jedi. "She's with Jedi Rowkwani on security, Master." On an impulse, he added, "She was sorry to miss meeting you though."

"And I her," Phnyong answered.

"Well, she'll be at the ball, won't she?" Senator Iltek asked; he had emerged from shaking hands with the Chancellor's staff to join the conversation on Phnyong's other side. "Perhaps you'll bump into her there."

"I should like that."

"Speaking of which, Your Excellency," Khofin said, "we have something of a tight schedule before the ball. If you'd care to take the holo now, we can just make the afternoon luncheon with the admiralty."

"Very good, Khofin," the Chancellor said.

They took their places on the dais, and Tirien found a moment to clasp Senator Iltek's shoulder briefly, offering him a small smile; the Human nodded back, and Tirien sensed they understood one another. For all Iltek and Phnyong were friends, Khofin still ran the Chancellor's office as a combination of chief of staff and door guard; even the minor act of defiance had been a great show of gratitude.

The passel of reporters who had been allowed through the gate took their holos, whereupon the Chancellor, Khofin, Commandant Wermis, and many of the dignitaries were ushered inside. Tirien lingered, letting the crowd thin as he started to reach out to Narasi in the Force, but the Human Jedi who had come along as the Chancellor's bodyguard held back as well, then approached Tirien. "Doli and I are it; no more Jedi are coming. Can you bring me up to speed on security?"

Tirien sensed Narasi remained with Kenza; as with Slejux, Narasi had made another fast friend, so perhaps she could bring Kenza the rest of the way out of her self-castigation. "Of course. Come with me." They took a back path into the Citadel proper to avoid the circus of media around the Chancellor. "I'm Tirien Kal-Di."

"Raven Kaivalt."

Tirien's eyes narrowed. "Kaivalt?"

Raven stopped, sighing in a way Tirien recognized at once. He made the same sound himself when trying to refute praise for what people insisted on calling his heroics—the sound of a man about to give a speech he had given many times before. "Yes," he admitted, "he was my great-grandfather."

Barely taller than Tirien, with smooth mahogany skin and hair as black as his name, Raven didn't resemble the holos of his famous ancestor that Tirien had seen. Tirien vaguely remembered that Donarius Kaivalt had had children before his death at Mizra, but though they seemed close in age, Tirien was confident they had never met before, even as Initiates. "And yet you're here with us?"

"Instead of with the Jedi Lords of Tapani?" Raven made a face. "Yes, not that they're pleased. My cousins are Jedi as best they can be, but whatever House Pelagia may decide for itself, someone has to show the Republic that the Kaivalts still have honor."

"Are you the only one?"

Raven shook his head. "My twin sister Raina is a Jedi too. A true Jedi—a Knight of the Republic, not just of the Pelagia."

Tirien glanced back at the shuttle. "But she didn't come with you."

Raven shook his head. "No, she's on Coruscant, with the Vice Chancellor."

Tirien appraised Raven as they resumed walking; that the Kaivalt siblings were trusted with guarding the top leaders of the Republic spoke to Chancellor Phnyong's confidence in their allegiance to the Republic, as well as considerable skill. The Jedi Order hardly lent itself to Forceful dynasties; Tirien had no basis to guess whether Donarius Kaivalt's legendary valor and talent might be heritable traits, but he could read Raven well enough to be sure the man had labored under that expectation for some time, perhaps his entire life. Tirien had seen in Narasi how quickly the presumptions of others became a burden, so he said only, "Security."

Raven's relief was obvious. "Right. I assume the Army is handling anything mundane?"

Tirien nodded, gesturing to the rooftops. "The guard complement has been doubled as long as the Chancellor's here, and the Republic Marines have a sent a sniper detachment for the roofs. We'll have a Jedi or two up there as well, over the ballroom and the main Citadel."

"And the party?"

"It's a mix of dignitaries and officers—ensigns and senior officers both. They're allowed dates, but they had to register ahead of time, and the Judicials are running background checks.  We've been assuming the Blue Guards will handle the Chancellor's personal security, but we'll have Jedi mingling in the various ballrooms in plainclothes."

"You?"

"Yes."

Raven looked reassured as they passed in a back route; an ensign at the Staff Duty desk stood for them, but Tirien waved him back down as Raven said, "Good. Master Cazars was going to come, but something happened on the campaign, so you're the best swordsman we have."

"Hopefully it isn't going to come to swordsmanship," Tirien hedged.

"Intelligence's latest assessment says the Empire is the likely threat," Raven said in a rote way.

Tirien recognized the other Jedi's frustration. "Shall we wait another few hours and see what they say then?"

"Today's forecast from Coruscant Weather and Espionage," Raven agreed. "Aresh. The Empire.  Some of them give up and say Aresh and the Empire.  Zirist Lakalt.  One analyst tried to convince me Darth Vandak was coming."

Tirien grimaced; he'd had his fill of the Anzat butcher on Milagro. "And me without Mali Darakhan."

Raven laughed once. "So are we prepared for anything, and possibly everything?"

"We're close," Tirien had to admit. "All guests will be magno-scanned coming in; no weapons except the Blue Guards and the Jedi. Security droids along with sentients, so no mind tricks.  Server droids have been programmed to scan everything they serve for toxins.  Thermal scans around the Citadel's perimeter, and Kenza's a Miraluka, so she'll catch anything the scans miss."

"Sounds like everyone's done a thorough job here," Raven said. "It's a relief. Thank you."

Tirien nodded. "We'll keep him safe, whatever comes."