Chapter Twenty-Four: Changing of the Guard

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4 BBY Naboo

"The situation is handled, sir." I duck my unhelmeted head to the Moff who waits with the others behind a line of security officers and troopers who have helped to secure the premises here on Naboo. Leia is back with her parents, and safe aboard the Venator in orbit along with several other guests. The assailants who were apprehended will be questioned later and the bodies are being dealt with. I'm sure someone will have plenty of questions for the Zann Consortium. Particularly, why they got involved.

I suspect this was some sort of bounty, or a ploy to get their hands on a bargaining chip. It wouldn't be the first time they'd pulled a stunt like this. I still remember Fondor.

The Moff sighs as he approaches me. His arms are crossed over his chest, a sign he was nervous. He likely still is. An attack of this size when we were expecting mere rebels has shaken many. Those who remain here are among the highest order, though, smoothing over the details.

"Kian," he calls out, his voice stiff to keep out the fear. "You did well securing the princess."

I shrug. "I did what I had to."

One of the black armored troopers wanders toward me. Removing his helmet, I find myself face to face with Headshot again.

"Kian's good at being a leader, even if he won't say it," Headshot comments. "Permission to brag about you, sir?"

I glare at him. "Just say what you're going to say and get back to work."

Headshot puts a hand on my shoulder. "I wanted to say," he looks at the Moff, "you picked a good man."

I avoid his stare and look at the Moff. Headshot pulls back and frowns. "And an anti social one at that."

I'm glad to see you too. I've been thinking about it since we met in the ballroom, but I know if I say it to Headshot's face, though, it'll just reopen the wound. I turn to the Moff and try not to notice Headshots lingering stare before he wanders back to work.

"Sir, how's the situation here?" I keep my voice stoic.

"It's handled," the Moff says firmly. "But–" he glances to his right. I follow his gaze and notice the blue skinned Admiral from the party is watching me from amid the crowd of ranking officers. He turns his head, speaking in words I cannot hear. I recognize the sharp hawk-faced Moff however: Tarkin.

After their secret exchange, they both break from position and stride toward me and Moff Sharn. Sharn stiffens as Tarkin's eyes lock on us both and do not leave. The man is a predator. I've seen him a few times. Enough to know I'd rather not join the gladiator match that is politics with him.

It's not Tarkin that speaks, however. The admiral beside him, whose race I have to say I'm unfamiliar with, he broaches the conversation first. "Have you presented my proposition yet, Moff?"

Tarkin raises a single eyebrow, and that is all the question he needs to provide.

"No." Moff Sharn looks at me. "Kian, we must speak somewhere private."

"Sir, this building is on lockdown. We are still—"

"We can speak in the Queen's private throne room," the Admiral cuts in. "It is vacant, and well within the safe areas."

"Yessir." I keep my head up.

The Admiral nods to Moff Sharn, dismissing him. "We shall handle this."

The Admiral breaks away, followed by Tarkin, and Sharn nods for me to follow. I obey, only because I don't know what sort of trouble I've gotten myself into now.

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