With the diplomatic suites naturally being soundproofed, it was unlikely Dooku could hear what was happening. He could probably sense something was amiss, though.
"Did you see the look on his face?"
Chuchi was having a spot of tea, her grin purely the result of seeing Ahsoka laughing and happy, rather than at the expense of Dooku's discomfort. It was hard to believe what Ventress had said about him. There was very little concrete information available regarding the Sith, beyond that they were some kind of rival sect that had clashed repeatedly with the Jedi over the millennia. That they were known to have the habit of manipulating others to do their dirty work was the main reason Chuchi was even considering believing what Ventress had said. It did explain many discrepancies among the reports on the ongoing war…
"I don't know how he could even talk with his jaw clenching like that."
Ventress was laughing too. It was an honest, spontaneous thing, completely free of the spite and venom she'd begun to associate with the pale woman. Ventress bent over, resting her head momentarily on Ahsoka's shoulder and laughing into the smaller girl's chest, before straightening and suddenly becoming very self-conscious when she realized Chuchi was looking at her. Ventress still shook with residual mirth even as she tried to hide the deliberate intent behind the half-step back she took to put space between them.
Ahsoka clapped Ventress on the shoulder, a very familiar gesture offered to someone who'd once made it her mission to kill her, and fell into a seat. Chuchi passed a cup over, and Ahsoka spilled a few drops before she brought her heaving shoulders under control. After a few moments, Ventress sat down opposite, all but a trace of mirth gone from her face.
"Please, feel free to relax and have a laugh whenever you feel the need. I promise I won't think less of you for it."
Ventress' posture went ramrod straight, and she fumbled the cutlery when Ahsoka snorted into her tea. Ahsoka was looking at her over the rim of her cup, eyes bright with the fresh source of mirth. Ventress kept stiff and pretended – badly – that she was ignoring the other girls with as much imperious distain as she could muster. Chuchi tried to keep her amusement from showing, but Ahsoka's occasional giggle was making it difficult.
It had been slow in coming, but people couldn't help but drop little clues here in there, even by choosing to remain silent. Chuchi's political training had included enough psychological theory that she felt a confident in the things her mind had tagged and relevant.
A personal vendetta of some sort, real or perceived, against the Jedi Order. An alliance with Dooku and the Separatists, presumably because doing so would give the chance, and the excuse, to fight the Jedi. And then Dooku had discarded her, betrayed her. Ventress, seeing a connection between herself and Ahsoka, when the Padawn had been accused of bombing the temple.
When Ahsoka had been…alone? Perceiving the Order as having betrayed her…abandoned her? Something in Ahsoka's situation has resonated strongly with Ventress. It had been strong enough to force her to empathize with the Jedi, with someone belonging to the organization she'd hated, someone whom she'd tried to kill several times in the past…and now they were acting like two old friends.
Chuchi sighed internally and looked at the two girls out of the corner of her eyes as she pretended to read the day's agenda. People were never so easily classified. Even choosing to believe in Ventress' earlier promise to her, it was impossible to perfectly predict how she would behave, and there were too many lives riding on too many factors for her to trust Ventress to act in any way she could foresee.
Ventress was menacing Ahsoka with a salad fork, and Ahsoka protectively held her spoon in a reverse grip in front of her. The two were bandying back and forth in some obscure Jedi jargon over who would best mangle who with what utensil in which lightsaber form.
Because the most important life of them all was sitting right next to her.
The rest of the day passed in blissful drudgery, and it allowed Chuchi to get a firmer grip on the Separatist and Republic strategies.
The Republic was mainly appealing to the Nalfean's love of order and structure. Yes, the Republic wasn't perfect. But the Separatists had rebelled against lawful authority and sparked a brutal war, claiming that doing so would somehow benefit the galaxy but only causing immense chaos and destruction. With Nalfean aid, the Republic could put a stop to the violence and destruction that much faster, and then focus on the internal problems.
The separatists were trying a similar tack. They very regretfully broke away from the Republic, and fought only in self-defence. There was just too much corruption within the Republic, a result of incestuous power structures that would not allow for reform. Creating a new government outside of the Core's influence was the only option left to them. But if enough worlds and people stood with them, people like the Nalfean, than maybe they would have the clout to force the Republic to address its issues and change things for the betterment of everyone.
And that left Chuchi in the middle. Keeping the Nalfeans out of the war would mean navigating the apparent contradiction that both parties were correct. If she could show the Nalfeans the prejudices and flaws that influenced the reasoning behind each agenda, she could illustrate the pointlessness and waste of this war. And perhaps neutrality could accomplish what bloodshed cannot – by refusing to fan the flames of war, the Nalfean could set an example for the rest of the galaxy and encourage both groups to prove the good intentions they claimed by solving their problems diplomatically. Doing so would require that both practice what they preached – The Republic would have to admit to the need for reforms, and the safety of the outer worlds would be assured as a result, encouraging them to disarm.
At the moment, she was literally in the middle, sitting across from the ambassador while the Republic and Separatist delegations sat on either side, always keeping a discreet distance from each other. The clone troopers were eyeing the magnaguards, and she saw tension in their bodies and fingers twitch towards triggers at every clank and whirr. The presence of the soldiers wasn't helping negotiations at all. One misunderstanding could bring the negotiations to an unpleasant end…it didn't help that the droids seemed a little livelier than usual, making jerky, meaningless motions at random. Maybe it was paranoia to think so, but if Dooku had programmed them to antagonize the Republic soldiers to force an incident…
"Pardon me, ambassadors."
"Yes?"
"Before we continue, I have a request."
Republic, Separatist, and Nalfean shared questioning glances, but the Nalfean ambassador gestured for her to continue.
"Why don't we dismiss the guards, gentlemen? This isn't a battlefield."
"The troopers are here for our protection, nothing more."
"And can you say the same for the fleet of star destroyers currently in orbit?"
There was no name for it, only a description. The 'referencing-something-without-openly-telling-or-e ven-looking-at-someone-that-it-was-something-they- needed-to-pay-attention-to' kind of expression Dooku was making right now. Judging by their expression, the Nalfeans fell for the trick hard.
It was quickly followed by denial and counter-accusation. Insinuation followed, and counter-insinuation came inevitably after that. Then blunt insinuation. And all of it topped off with some poorly-veiled threats.
"Gentlemen!" Chuchi interrupted right at the not-quite-sitting-and-about-to-jump-out-of-the-cha ir-in-anger point of the back-and-forth. "Can't you trust our hosts to provide security for these proceedings? I'm sure that with the perceived danger removed, both of you will happily prove your committal to acting only out of necessity, or in self-defense."
Chuchi allowed a small bit of drama to enter her posture as she swept her gaze between the two groups.
"You've both spoken at length on your positions and reasoning for the use of force, but who here is willing to demonstrate that they practice what they preach?"
Tense moments later, Dooku ordered his magnaguards to return to his ship and await further instructions. There was a fraction-of-a-second pause in their response, a mechanical twitch she'd sometimes seen when a droid was given conflicting orders that made Chuchi think her earlier worries hadn't been completely unfounded.
After the droids were gone, it was another few moments before the General ordered the clones to leave and was interrupted by some pasty human in a suit. The general quickly overrode him, and returned to face the table, a badly-faked smile directed towards Dooku.
"And so common decency is bought and paid for with the promise of gain, of saving face in these negotiations." Chuchi addressed the Nalfeans directly, ignoring the looks from either side. "And the threat of public embarrassment wielded as a bludgeon. I apologize for being so crude in my manipulation of the delegations, but there are far too many lives resting on these proceedings to risk the mix of angry words and armed guards."
The Nalfean ambassador sputtered in anger, but Chuchi pressed on.
"I believe that everyone wants peace…" Chuchi spread her arms to indicate the delegations she sat between. "But our fears and prejudices insist that they cannot be trusted, that the important first step must be made by the other, who feels exactly the same way, and labors under the same fear. And nothing is done."
His expression turned thoughtful.
"So we are left thinking we have only two choices. Use force to bring the Separatists back into the Republic, a process which has already greatly exacerbated the galaxy's troubles. Or, we overthrow the senate…but destroying the damaged machine does not fix the damaged machine. Who can say that the replacement, instilled in a time of terrible loss and anger, will be any better? Are you all so blind to the inevitable consequences of this war, no matter which side 'wins' that you are unwilling to admit there might be a better way to accomplish your goals?"
The slow clicking of mandibles was the equivalent of a smile, and the debate continued, though both Separatist and Republic emissaries later left that session looking somewhat deflated. One industrialist among the Republic delegation immediately logged onto the holonet stock exchange after returning to his quarters. The near future did not look promising for arms dealers.
Dooku brooded within the confines of his shuttle. The senator was making it infuriatingly difficult to get the reactions he needed to help the Nalfeans see his version of the Republic.
"It really was unfortunate that she survived…"
His thoughts was interrupted by the slow, clicking steps of a holo-droid, and he dropped to one knee as the lord of the Sith appeared before him.
"Mast-"
"Apprentice! It seem that not only did you fail to kill Ventress as I instructed, but now the entire galaxy watches as one of the Separatist's most famous warriors now stands alongside a Republic Senator and one of the Jedi. Explain yourself."
"Master, it is to my shame that I was not more thorough in ensuring Ventress' demise. But Ventress' appearance here despite her apparent martyrdom is no great impediment to our plans."
"How so?"
"Ventress shall serve our cause one more, whether she wishes to or not. No matter how much she pretends otherwise, her heart remains Sith. And to the young senator I shall illustrate the mistake of taking a Sith into her confidence quite clearly."