Private Angel, Will You Do Me a Favor?

[Sela Basran]

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SELA BASRAN'S OFFICE

MORNING - AFTER BACTA RIOTS & A CHANCE IS GONNA GOME

♫ GHORMAN WALTZ — NICHOLAS BRITELL

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There was a story -- or maybe it was a joke -- and Sela Basran couldn't remember where it had originated or even where she had first heard it. It was about some sort of leader who was asked what the most challenging part of running a thing -- a government, an order, a company, or whatever it was. His answer: Events, dear boy, events.

It didn't seem that funny today. Not when everything confronting the Jedi Order these days fell squarely under the category of events, dear boy.

Sela's next appointment was just that. She thumbed the edge of the dossier, resisting the urge to lift it again. She had read it cover to cover a few times already, discussed the matter with some of her colleagues, and finally had communicated a request for a meeting. The brief offered something of a challenge; the correct candidate would be an urbane sophisticate but a Jedi of the highest caliber. They would be charming but tough. They would be Jedi to the hilt, but expected to enter the halls of politics and stand at the shoulder of political leaders. It was a dangeorus place for a Jedi to stand. Still, she could not in good conscience reject the request.

There was a chiming noise from the door into her study. Sela rose and went to the door to open it herself, then beckoned the tall Jedi Master in. "Master Corvain. Thank you for making the time." She opened the door further and then closed it behind him. "I was just going to boil some tea. Can I tempt you?"

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FEATURING

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Sela Basran

He had just returned from a fact finding mission on the outer banks of the High Republic. This one had required less subtlety and more reinforced iron through the metaphorical gut, until the target squealed. They always believed that just because they faced a Jedi, they could posture and smirk their way through the situation.

They were rarely ready to meet the Duke.

He stood in place outside of Master Basran's room, eyes closed, hands locked behind his back while he practiced his breathing exercises. These were the right moments to do so, because there was always something else to do.

So when you were meant to wait, you might as well fill it with something useful.

By the time there was movement inside of the chamber, the Duke was already moving forward, pressing the button that would notify Sela someone was waiting outside. He had arrived early, realized it and instead of bothering the wisened Jedi Master with his early presence, he simply meditated until the right time had arrived.

Promptly ushered in Tristan inclined his head towards Sela.

"Tempt away, Master Basran, I take it with one sugar and some milk, please and thank you." By the time the Jedi sat down across from the table, one leg crossed over the other and now the Duke was lounging in front of his fellow Jedi Master.

"It must be rather important to call on me so soon after my last mission. Has something happened, Sela? Beyond the absolute fuckery of losing Thyferra to those Sith mongrels?"

 

[Sela Basran]

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SELA BASRAN'S OFFICE

TIME FOR TEA

♫ COMMONWEALTH — MARTIN PHIPPS

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Sela regarded the other Jedi Master curiously for a moment before she turned and returned to the little side table with the tea-making facilities. The kettle was already softly whistling. "That is something of a sore subject around these parts," Sela admitted as she busied herself with the tea. She poured two earthenware mugs, poured the boiling water into the earthenware pot with the tea leaves there, and let it steep as she gathered the little sugar bowl, the little milk jug, two spoons, the strainer, whatnot. After a few moments, she carried the tray over and placed the tray on the table between the two chairs. "As I'm sure you can understand. But, obviously, I do apologize if you are feeling -- overly put upon? You are not obligated to take the assignment if you would prefer some more time to rest."

Sela settled into the opposite chair, her back straight, and straightened a cuff that, strictly speaking, did not require straightening.

"But you come highly recommended. By some." She glanced at the clock behind her desk as it counted down the seconds until when the tea would be ready to pour. To prepare, she leaned forward and placed the silvers trainer across the cup for the Duke. "How familiar are you with the political situation on Theed recently? There has been a... development." Sela rose and crossed back to her desk and picked up the datapad with her before handing it over to the Duke.

"I have had a request from a Mr. Lucian Varencourt, who is the Chief of Staff to Senator Stuyveris of Druckenwell." If he looked at the datapad, he'd see the woman there, a magnificent blonde with perfectly coiffed hair and a steely gaze into the middle distance. "The Senator has, according to Mr. Varencourt and I believe you will see it confirmed in the RIS reports further along in the file, made rather a lot of enemies in her tenure. In addition to being one of the most vocally anti-Sith Covenant Senators currently seated, she has also publicly promised to assist Alderaan with its membership in the High Republic, was the public face of the prosecution of the Sith butcher Lysander von Ascania, and reportedly flung herself at another high-ranking Sith in an attempt to kill them during the battle over Thyferra. She is no friend to the Trade Federation or others whose only reliable moral stance is flexibility and whose resources are broad, and if that were not enough to be getting along with, her reforming zeal has now made her public enemy number one with certain Naboo nationalist groups, who have sent her all manner of horrible threats, as well as substances in physical correspondence that -- so far -- have merely shut the office down out of an abundance of caution rather than poisoned any of her staff. One of the aforementioned threats was taped to a stone, which was hurled through her speeder window during her morning commute to the Senate last week."

Sela's voice was conversational and pleasant despite the unpleasantness of the conversation. As she continued to speak, she poured tea into the Duke's cup before adding the requisite milk and sugar.

"The final straw came when the Senator was observed by persons unknown at a private, exclusive dressmaker's atelier in town. Apparently looking to add some nods to Naboo to her wardrobe to ease the strain between herself and the locals. At any rate, she learned of the observation when she received an electronic mail from someone who said that it was a shame she did not choose the blue lake silk because it would have been, and here I am quoting directly, a beautiful dress to bury you in after I kill you."

Sela offered the cup to Tristan, then busied herself fixing her own, continuing as if she was sharing run-of-the-mill gossip. "Senator Stuyveris has chafed at the imposition of a highly visible, highly obtrusive RIS security detail, which has prevented her from performing what she believes are secondary functions of her role: mingling, entertaining, and being seen. Mr. Varencourt hoped there might be something we could do. A smaller footprint -- someone of her class -- who might be able to provide a watchful eye without all that... friction." She sat down and took a sip of her tea. "We have offered similar things in the past -- the Senator for Denon, I believe, though if I am not much mistaken that was a Padawan and... well, the least said about that particular liaison, the better." She took another sip. "At any rate, it seems a small thing to ask and perhaps a wise investment. After all, Stuyveris has made no bones about her anti-Sith bona fides, and she has been a reliable friend to the Order in her official capacity. That ought not be a consideration, and officially, it was not."

"So now that you have heard what it involves -- close protection in primarily an office and social setting -- do you still feel overburdened? Or can I tell Mr. Varencourt he can expect a visit?"

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FEATURING

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Sela Basran

Tristan chuckled softly.

"Merely a joke, Master Basran. It is a cold day in hell when the Jedi Order cannot rely on me." He indicated that he knew quite a bit of Naboo politics, especially the recent happenings. As a Jedi Master it might have been outside of his remit, but as the Duke of the Grand Duchy of Altier, well, that was a different matter.

Everything said about Verity Stuyveris did not surprise him.

She was an impressive sort. Entirely too focused on the democratic process and pesky things like transparency and the will of the people, but Tristan couldn't hold that against her.

If you didn't believe in the democratic process as a Senator you were in the wrong line of work as far as Tristan was concerned. Not believing in it while having the job would have been worse. Corrupt. Something some of her colleagues were well-versed in, if the gossip and rumors had anything to say about it.

"It sounds to me that the Senator of Druckenwell has a penchant for getting herself into trouble." The Duke said casually as he accepted the cup from his fellow Jedi, using the flick of his finger to make the spoon turn in it to dissipate some of the heat inside.

He sighed and leaned back, studying Sela curiously.

"I admit, this is not something I have often done. I have guarded people, yes, I have escorted civilians. But all in active combat situations, where getting them to safety was the priority and their opinions didn't matter because getting them out alive did." Brows furrowed, but there was a gleam in those sharp eyes.

"It sounds like a challenge, in fact."

He sipped and made a positive noise, inclining his head in thanks.

"I suspect the Senator is unaware of this discussion? If it were me, I wouldn't even let her know, until it was all already wrapped in a bow." Which was the only way to handle a personality like that.

"How much leeway will I have to... ensure her safety?"

In other words, how much could Tristan boss her around, if he believed it was crucial to her survival.

 

[Sela Basran]

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SELA BASRAN'S OFFICE

TIME FOR TEA

♫ COMMONWEALTH — MARTIN PHIPPS

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"I could not say for sure," Sela said in response to her fellow Master's question regarding the Senator's knowledge of the arrangement. "I can say that Mr. Varencourt was forthright that he had not informed the Senator that he was making the request. I believe his strategy was to allow the RIS agents to outstay their welcome and then contrive to offer a potentially less offensive option. Namely: you. But whether that strategy will survive first contact with the Senator, I could not say."

She stirred her tea then set the little spoon on the saucer.

"Now, if the good Senator refuses your services, that will be the end of the conversation. The Jedi Order does not have jurisdiction to enforce itself on a Senator. We are there at the request of her office, but if she rejects it, then -- well, we have done our best to offer aid." Sela shrugged. "As far as if she agrees to the arrangement, that is between the Senator and yourself."

Sela sipped her tea silently and then set it down. "I suspect in the event that exigent circumstances are necessary, the point will have been proven and the Senator will not object too strenuously."

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FEATURING

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Sela Basran

He sipped from his tea in a thoughtful silence.

It was a conundrum in the very essence of the word. On the one hand, it was his duty to assist the Jedi Order in any way he was capable of, as long as it didn't interfere with his duties to his people. On the other hand, babysitting a Senator seemed like it would be a deeply annoying and exhausting operation.

The arguments, the back and forth. He was aware of who Verity Stuyveris was. One of the better Senators, to be sure. Someone who understood what the threat of the Sith really was.

"If not me, then who?"

This was both a question as well as an answer.

The profile Sela had described crossed out a lot of names on the list almost immediately. A very short list, indeed, was left. Of Jedi who could combine the grace and diplomacy, but had enough power to back any word they made.

There were alternatives, but something told Tristan that if Sela could fall back to them... they wouldn't be having this conversation.

"I will gladly be of service, Sela. When will I meet with the Senator?"

 

[Sela Basran]

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SELA BASRAN'S OFFICE

TIME TO KEEP IT MOVING

♫ SHAKE, RATTLE AND ROLL — BILL HALEY & HIS COMETS

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Sela let the rhetorical question hang in the air between them for a few moments. There was something likeable in the Duke -- a kind of charm, she supposed, though usually she was immune to such things. But there was an edge to him that Sela was wary about. She studied him, her face impassive, for just a few beats more before she lifted the pendant on her chain necklace and looked at him through it briefly.

If that did anything, she did not say or react.

She lowered it again. "Who indeed?" she asked, a saturnine smirk crossing her lips before she stood. She went to her desk, picked up a pen and scrawled a note on a small card. "This is Mr. Varencourt's comlink number. You can settle any logistical questions with him, such as where and when to meet the Senator."

Sela sat at her desk and busied herself pulling a stack of reports closer. She was suddenly weary, and a small sigh escaped her lips before she glanced up, apparently surprised to find him still there. "Good morning," she said with the air of polite but unmistakable dismissal before opening the first report on the stack and beginning to read through it.

Tea time, apparently, was over.

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FEATURING

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Sela Basran

Tristan knew that Sela was a peculiar type.

Most Jedi Masters were. Something about being fully immersed with the Force and spending more time on the mysteries, rather than on the people around them.

He was still studying the card with the number on it when Sela realized he was still standing there.

"Good night." Tristan murmured absently, but already rising up, feeling the dismissal even while he himself was still in thought. "Let us hope that the Senator appreciates us more than she dislikes the imposition." If that was to Sela or to himself would be a mystery, because he was already out of the door and keying in the number into his commlink.

The call would come out soon to the chief of staff.

"Mr. Varencourt? This is Jedi Master Corvain. I understand you believe your Senator requires some additional protection."

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

The bald and bespectacled Chief of Staff to the Senator for Druckenwell had been about to enter the Senator's inner office when the comlink in his breast pocket buzzled to alert him to a call. He hesitated a moment; on the other side of the door he could hear a raised voice, in the cadence of an argument. Or rather, half an argument. The other half he couldn't hear then, but he knew it would have been Verity. Shouting was not in her nature. Watch Commander Dane, on the other hand -- well, he could be explosive, particularly when a certain Senator was not feeling terribly cooperative.

He picked up the comlink and touched the control to accept the call.

"This is Varencourt," he confirmed. A moment later, the man on the other end of the phone identified himself as Jedi Master Corvain. "Ah. Master Basran sent you? Yes -- whether she wants to admit it or not, she does." Varencourt hesitated again, as Dane's voice rose inside again, and then, surprising him, Verity answered in what was very nearly a shout. "I think things may well be reaching a breaking point here. Watch Commander Dane and the Senator are having, um, creative differences."

He glanced toward the door and frowned. "Can you come today? I feel she might be particularly amenable to a change in security posture after what's happening her today."

Tristan Corvain​

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Verity Stuyveris

Sound carrying the way it did, Tristan got at least a muffled impression of something happening on the other side.

Tristan didn't pry.

"I do believe it will fit my schedule, mister Varencourt." A bit of a dry voice, because of the spike in the Force had anything to say about it, everyone in the current situation seemed to desire getting out of said situation. The question was merely if the new one would be a marked improvement or not. "Would you like to meet separate first, prior to me meeting with the good Senator?"

If anyone understand the need to glad-handle figures it was Tristan.

"Or we can simply jump into the canyon together and see what happens. A touch of excitement is good for the nerves, I always say."

An insane saying, but then again, this was a man who routinely walked onto battlefields and put his body in front of harm to protect others.

A certain sense of insanity was part of the job description.

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

Varencourt pushed his glasses up over his eyebrows, where they perched on the ridge of his brow, and then pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "The Senator has procedural motions in a few minutes. She'll be back in her office about an hour after that. Do you think you can make it for that?"

Another -- er -- round of disagreements came from within the inner office.

"I think it's for the best that we jump in together. I'll see you then."

Varencourt disconnected the call when the arrangements were made, tucked his comlink into his pocket, and knocked on the inner office door before letting himself in. Verity and Watch Commander Dane were glaring at each other from across her desk, the Senator's fists balled on its surface, the Watch Commander's hands at his hips.

"Senator," Dane began in the one of a man explaining something for the thirteenth time. "It is not my intention to make your presence in the capital ornamental. I simply need to be sure that we are able to safeguard you when you leave the Senate Complex or your apartment. I appreciate that you feel this cramps your spontaneity, but -- "

"Don't make this sound like I'm some teenager chafing against an overly-strict parent," Verity fired back. "I need to be able to maneuver in order to do this job, Dane. If I cannot be seen, if I cannot go out into the world and meet people without organizing a military campaign in order to let me go to brunch."

"Not a military campaign, Senator. We just need to be able to sweep the place, then you can do whatever you want."

"And then I've got you and five of your closest agents surrounding me at the table. I cannot work this way, Dane." She looked past him to Varencourt. "Luc."

"Senator, apologies," Varencourt said. "You've got procedural motions."

Verity glanced at her watch. "Time flies, I guess," she said, her eyes returning to the Watch Commander. "Think of something else, Dane. I'm not trying to be difficult, I'm just trying to accommodate you. Maybe while I'm gone you can think about ways to accommodate me and my career."

"Senator -- "

"I have procedural motions," Verity said waspishly and she was out the door. Varencourt paused at Kiva's desk to instruct her to set up an appointment with Jedi Master Tristan Corvain for when they returned, then caught up to Verity in the corridor. It was going to be an interesting meeting.

An hour later, Verity and Varencourt returned to the office suite. "...and I need the kolto projections as soon as possible. I'm not prepared to concede that the military should get all the kolto production. STACREST will be more or less useless if we can't see medical supplies getting where they need to go. Oh and the draft of the Sentient Rights legislation on the office drive is at least three drafts out of date, can you track down the most recent?"

"Senator, Master Corvain is waiting in your office," Kiva reported. She had ushered the Jedi Master into Verity's inner office when he'd arrived and made him comfortable. "Coffee?"

Verity paused in her outer office, shrugging out of her official robes. She wore a crisp, white, high-necked blouse underneath. "Who?"

"Thank you, Kiva," Luc said, ushering Verity forward. "I'll explain inside." When the doors were shut, Varencourt studied Tristan a moment and crossed the room with his hands outstretched. "Master Corvain, Lucian Varencourt. We spoke earlier. This is Verity Stuyveris."

Verity hung her cloak on the rack by the door and reached up to straighten a strand of blonde hair that had had the temerity to come unpinned during what had been an unexpectedly animated debate. "Hello," she said guardedly as she crossed over too. "Not that I'm not delighted to meet any Jedi who wants to come my way -- I'm afraid I'm not sure what's going on here. Will someone explain?"

Luc explained why Corvain was there, frontloading it with the difficulties between Verity and Dane. Verity went very still and crossed to the desk and sat at her desk. "You arranged all this without speaking to me?" she asked coolly once Luc was finished.

"I did," he answered.

Verity pursed her lips and nodded. "We'll discuss it later. I'd like to speak to Master Corvain." Luc hesitated. "Go, Luc."

Luc went. Verity turned her attention to the Jedi. "Hello."

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Verity Stuyveris

Through it all Tristan stood like a marble statue in the background.

He did not interrupt Lucian. Did not try and interject or offer some of his own thoughts. In this he was satisfied to allow the Chief of Staff to make the arguments himself. After all, the man knew who he worked for and what would be the better approach to make this palpable. It didn't seem like Verity was in the mood to palpate anything, of course.

But she didn't throw him out of the room.

Not yet anyway.

"Hello." Tristan said, inclining his head to her. A Jedi Master might have bowed for a senator. But a Duke of several systems would not. It was always a balancing play, how to approach these things.

"It is always tricky when they try and protect us, no?" A sharp smile there. "I keep explaining to my people that I need no protection. But they insist that I should at least have a guard duty and perhaps some security details placed around my person."

His hands crossed behind his back.

"Annoying... even more so because they do it for our benefit, so when we are angry with them... it almost feels petulant."

The smile turned soft.

"Or that is my experience anyway with these things. How are you doing today, Senator Stuyveris?"

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

Verity folded her hands placidly on the desk in front of her. Or else it would have been placid if her pulse wasn't pounding. She favored the Jedi Master with an impassive pale blue gaze. She gave him the courtesy of not interrupting him as he spoke, though she almost instantly knew she had Some Thoughts™ from the first sentence he said.

The word 'us' seemed to be doing a lot of heavy lifting. She didn't know exactly what he meant; after all, in what way were a Jedi Master and a Galactic Senator similar? Verity wasn't sure what people he to which he was referring, and why they would need to protect a Jedi Master.

Then she was fairly certain he called her petulant. One golden brow lifted in consideration, and she settled back slightly. That was interesting. "I'm not sure you've been given the full picture, Master -- Corvain, wasn't it? -- which is that despite the uncomfortable position in which I find myself -- which is to say all but universally reviled -- I still have a job to do. Perhaps we will all get lucky and the good people of Druckenwell will decide I'm no longer worth the hassle, but until such time they do, I have to work. And while I appreciate the RIS' desire to keep me safe, that appreciation does not appear to be reciprocated when it comes to a certain flexibility this position demands."

She stood and went to the window behind her desk, looked out at Theed sprawling below. Parties and benefits, museum openings and cocktail receptions, galas and dinners -- it must all seemed rather frivolous to those on the outside, but that was where ideas became legislation, where maybes became yeses, in short, where the sausage was made.

"But -- I suppose that doesn't really matter." She half-turned, draping her arm across the back of her chair. "So how would this all work, provided that I agree? My office, your -- you, I guess? -- and Watch Commander Dane?"

Tristan Corvain​

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Verity Stuyveris

From the Force he sensed that his understanding didn't quite land with her.

He did not consider the fact that she didn't know he was the Duke of Altier. That would require a level of self-inspection that he did not possess, much like many rulers and lords. If Tristan knew he was the Duke of Altier, then everyone ought to know.

"Yes, I am aware of your predicament, Senator." Inclining his head once more to bring that across. "And I have been made to understand your current arrangement with the RIS is unworkable for you."

Tristan shrugged lightly.

"If you agree, I will become your chief protector, in charge of your security needs and your personal bodyguard. With me as your chief protector, you will no longer require a full security detail wherever you go." He stepped towards her, but kept a respectful distance. "And I will not need to screen areas prior to your engagements to the same degree as the RIS needs."

A pause there.

"Unless it is a truly large event, but I suspect you understand this. The more intimate and medium affairs, galas and balls, and meet and greets... I'd employ a low touch approach."

He smiled.

"Since you have worked overtime to make yourself into the worst enemy of the Sith domestically, the powers that be suggested a Jedi Master might be the only reasonable way to keep you safe without locking you away."

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

Verity frowned briefly, then crossed over to the coffee maker on a sideboard and began to fiddle with it: measuring out grounds, putting it into the machine, whatnot. "And that's all been hashed out with Dane?" she asked over one shoulder, then lifted her head. "No, nevermind, that's a question for Luc. Um, Mr. Varencourt, that is." She paused as the coffee maker whirred to life.

"We've just met," Verity observed. "Are you confident that you can work closely with someone who is -- how to put it delicately -- as highly strung as me? If you'd like to have a chat with Watch Commander Dane to verify exactly how big a pain in the neck I am, you're more than welcome. No hard feelings."

The coffee maker dinged. Verity picked up the carafe and poured a cup for herself. "Coffee, Master Corvain?"

When it was settled she returned to the desk with the appropriate amount of cups. She pulled the chair back and sat back down, cupping her hands around the coffee cup. "You look... like you belong in places like this," Verity observed, gesturing broadly to the Senate complex. "You also strike me as someone who is accustomed to getting what they want. Tell me about you."

Tristan Corvain​

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Verity Stuyveris

Coffee after tea? Don't mind if he did, he made a positive sound and once the cup was offered, his hand flicked... allowing it to levitate into his hand as he sat himself down.

Efficient that way.

"I am not particularly concerned about your personality, Senator." Corvain indicated before taking a hummed sip of caf. "I will protect you. Either by you following my advice or when you don't, by putting my body between you and mortal danger." He shrugged and sipped once more, sighing in satisfaction.

Very little was better than caf after a busy morning.

One leg crossed over the other as Verity tuned the conversation towards him. He smiled and assumed she was joking. But when Tristan searched her expression and more importantly the other reaches of her mind, he could find no deception inside of her however.

"Ah, I see." The smile turned a bit more amused. "My name is Tristan Corvain, Senator. Duke of Altier and Jedi Master."

Perhaps his ego had gotten the better of him once more.

"So when I spoke about 'them' protecting 'us'... I did mean specifically you and me. Force knows I have had my fair share of security believing their duty is to protect their liege."

A beat.

"Even when their liege can destroy a castle wall with his mind."

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

Verity watched with faint amusement as the Jedi Master levitated the coffee cup to his hands. Neat trick. She wondered idly if he did it at cocktail parties. She lifted her cup to her lips for a sip as she spoke. "A Jedi Master and a Duke? That's ambitious." She set the cup down and settled back into her chair, studying him across the table. Yes, a Duke seemed... plausible. He was polished, put together.

And his clothes looked much more substantial than the average Jedi robes. A little less roughhewn and a little more polished.

Interesting.

"Altier? We're basically neighbors," she said. Druckenwell was quite near, as far as astronomical objects went. She picked up her mug again and took a sip of her coffee before touching the mouse for her computer to wake the screen. She typed a few lines, sent off the missive to Lucian. Get me everything we have on the Duke of Altier. Quick exec summary ASAP, full brief to follow.

A moment later, a ping returned. On it. See attached.

"That's funny," Verity observed. "That's all very impressive. But I can't help but think that between your duties as Duke and as a Jedi Master you must have better things to do than babysit an obnoxious, loud-mouth Senator." She looked over the top of her small computer screen at him, blue eyes through dark lashes. "No?"

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Verity Stuyveris

In one move Tristan had demonstrated his relationship to the Force.

As his finger flicked and let the spoon in it move by itself, it was clear that he did not share the same sort of holy attachment to the Light Side of the Force as some of his fellow Jedi. It was a tool. Something that was there to assist you in your needs. In other words, yes, he absolutely used it as a party trick to draw wondered noises out of onlookers.

Anything to get an advantage in social situations, where a positive or awe-struck expression could be utilized for the betterment of the Light or Altier or both.

"A Jedi Master and a Duke? That's ambitious."

"Ambitious? Perhaps to some. In my view it was the only way forward." Tristan responded without digging too deeply into it. Once Verity had the full report in front of her, she'd be able to read the whole thing.

It wasn't exactly a state secret.

A noble boy had been offered to the Order to strengthen the bonds between it and the nation.

But when the time came to ascend to the title of Duke, he rejected the need to put his Jedi Master title down. It had caused quite a stir all that time ago.

He raised his cup towards her. Neighbors indeed. Druckenwell was a known quantity. Their two worlds had a lot of trade between them. The industry of Altier and its natural resources, the shipyards of Druckenwell, they had worked together brilliantly for generations.

"That's all very impressive. But I can't help but think that between your duties as Duke and as a Jedi Master you must have better things to do than babysit an obnoxious, loud-mouth Senator."

"I wonder, Senator, do you have a very low opinion of yourself, or a very high one? Or does one obfuscate the other?" He smiled at her, but eyes remained sharp and took all of her in at once.

"You are one of the few Senators who have correctly identified the Sith. Not as a nuisance or even as a threat. But as an existential force of sickness that needs to be eradicated at its root. That makes you important. Your voice must be protected in a Senate that is populated by pacifists, diplomats and corpo creatures."

He put his cup down.

"That makes it an important task. Important enough for a Jedi Master to be asked to protect you personally, Senator. Do not discount yourself, I certainly don't."

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

"Oh, very high," Verity answered right away, her words tinged with mirth. "But you know how politics is -- or perhaps you don't; I seem to recall Altier being not quite ready to embrace democracy. At any rate, one must appear humble, affable, approachable, or else one will get a reputation for believing one's own press. People already think me strident, opinionated, and careerist."'

Traits which, she suspected, would be seen as admirably ambitious in a man, but that was neither here nor there.

"Moralistic, overly zealous, and too focused on reform for my own good," she continued, ticking them off on her fingers like a shopping list.

"If I added 'full of herself' to that the whole house of cards simply comes tumbling down. But -- yes, thank you. I am right. The faster people realize that I am always right, the better for all of us. But, you know. Democracy is a beautiful thing but it is also quite dull and slow at times." She lifted her coffee cup and took a sip.

"All right," she said after a moment. "You've caught me on a day where I am particularly credulous, so... let's try it. Oh -- is my office supposed to be paying you? Do you know the details of the arrangement, or should I ask Lucian?"

Tristan Corvain

 

[Tristan Corvain]

Verity Stuyveris

"Democracy..." A soft sigh. "Yes, I am not surprised as a Senator you are a big proponent of it. The Republic has forced my hand on a number of reforms, I have yet to see any true benefit to them, but time will tell."

People already think me strident, opinionated, and careerist

A smile curled upwards again.

"All good traits for a successful and ambitious Senator, no?" The twinkle in his eye was the only thing to suggest he realized fully well how it was not as simple as that. What was good for a man, was not always good for a woman. One could be seen as formidable and articulate, while the other would simply be set aside as shrill and emotional.

It was a deficiency within sentient nature as far as Tristan was concerned. A sickness of its own. Discarding half of your population based on sex or minimizing them was a sure fire way towards a decline in your civilization.

He didn't get into it with her about democracy however.

Tristan suspected they'd be here tomorrow still. And they quite frankly didn't need to agree on this one. As long as the Jedi managed to keep her safe and alive, they'd both be happy enough, hopefully.

"All right," she said after a moment. "You've caught me on a day where I am particularly credulous, so... let's try it. Oh -- is my office supposed to be paying you? Do you know the details of the arrangement, or should I ask Lucian?"

Eyebrows went up.

"Senator, are you teasing me? A salary, heavens. The details of the arrangement can be handled between yourself, Lucian and the Jedi Order. Any administrative works and such will be handled by the Order, Jedi Master Sela Basran will be happy to assist." Tristan somewhat doubted she'd be that eager, but that dismissal earlier still deserved a graceful and elegant riposte.

"Now, tell me how you envision this. I can't promise I will agree, but I am eager to hear how you believe you should be protected."