CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

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As the sun set in Coruscant's horizon, a procession of ComfortRide speeders arrived atop the Imperial Palace. The crafts dropped off the distinguished passengers by a red-carpet platform at the entrance of the garage, where they were greeted by a group of Imperial officers. A scanner framing the threshold ensured no one smuggled weapons, explosives, or biological agents. Senators, representatives, governors, high-ranking military officers, ambassadors, tycoons, diplomats, and other important guests paraded inside under the glare of the Imperial-controlled media, and the close watch of Military Intelligence and shock troopers.

Acting as Jarriss' bodyguard and chauffeur, Ilum piloted the modified ComfortRide speeder to the Imperial Palace. The Shard dropped off Jarriss, Theleema, and Addia at the carpet, and parked the craft in its allotted space in the garage. Ilum had the unenviable task of waiting in the wings until they had to make their escape.

Theleema wore a revealing red dress and stiletto heels, drawing plenty of attention. Addia had chosen a long black dress, classic and elegant. And Jarriss looked dapper in a fitted tuxedo. Not too far away, Riyo Chuchi made her entrance in a fashionable silver gown on the arm of Syrran, dressed in the gray military uniform of the Pantoran guard and sporting his fake cybernetic eyes.

At the Imperial Banquet Hall, Governor Tarkin welcomed some of his guests with a Daruvvia champagne flute in his hand—which he nursed throughout the interactions.

"I considered it a last hurrah in a long two weeks of media exposure, honors, and fetes," he said to an admiral with slicked-back white hair and a trimmed moustache in his white navy uniform. "Then, I'm afraid duty calls. But I do plan to visit my homeworld soon enough."

"Where I'm sure you will be greeted as the hero you are," said the admiral.

"I wouldn't know about that. But I heard your protégé, Kallus—is it? Is doing a capital job in Lasan."

"All for the good of the Empire. Congratulations once again."

"Thank you, Deputy Director Yularen." Tarkin shook his hand and addressed the next guest. "Ah, Director Krennic. Welcome."

"Governor Tarkin," said an officer with graying dark hair. "Or rather, Grand Moff Tarkin."

"Pay no mind, director. I'm not quite used to the title myself yet. Most people still refer to me as Governor."

"My sincerest congratulations. Interesting statue," he said as he eyed the sculpture which was now surrounded by eight Imperial Royal guards on the stage.

"A fitting symbol of the future of the Empire, if I may say so. Wouldn't you agree? Any news regarding your personnel issue?"

Meanwhile in the background, Addia whispered, "Would you relax?"

"I'm not used to this pointless pageantry and these shoes are killing me," Theleema said.

"You wanted to flaunt it; you pay the price, sister," said Addia.

"I was under the impression Sith embraced pain," Jarriss ribbed.

"And I thought Miraluka were supposed to be thoughtful," Theleema fired back.

"You still hate these events," an amused Riyo said not too far away.

"I feel safer when I know who's trying to kill me." Syrran pretended to drink.

"What's your exit strategy?"

"Neck-breaking ComfortRide run back to our ship."

"Ours?"

"The one you saw piloted by the MagnaGuard."

"Hold on. Is one of those two women the one?"

Syrran grinned. "One of them is."

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