Coruscant 3964 BBY


Martyn

It soon becomes hard for Martyn to ignore that, yet again and much to his disturbance, Vektor is comfortably sleeping on his chest, undisturbed.

This is becoming a problem, he soon understands with mild irritation. He looks about the room and is grateful to find that at least this time he is not waking up on his own chambers, and that his clothes are not that far from his reach. That tends to ease things up when one needs to make for a quick departure. If only he were a Jedi to will his clothes into coming to him effortlessly.

He stirrs in bed subtly, trying to cause for his companion to wake from his slumber. When Vektor finally opens his eyes, his first reaction is to turn his head slowly towards Martyn, and smile. Martyn smiles back, but internally he can't help but fear that the expression in Vektor's eyes might hold more warmth than he can handle. Vektor's index finger caresses the tip of his nose affectionately.

"Good morning." He whispers.

Indeed that is more familiarity than he could possibly handle during daytime.

"Good morning." He yawns with the crooked smile that is his signature.

Martyn begins to slowly incorporate himself when, without a warning, his head turns to the windows.

"What time is it?" He inquires all of the sudden.

Vektor's arm clumsily reaches for an alarm clock; Martyn's, for his clothes.

"It's only 10AM... Why?" He watches as Martyn starts to dress.

He sighs once it becomes clear to him: it's not about the time. It's never once been about the time.

"I'm late for..." His imagination fails him "I don't recall what it was exactly, surely something stupid of my mother's..." He covers up.

"If it's so stupid, then why not stay?" His arm reaches out for Martyn's shirt, pulling him invitingly.

Martyn turns around smiling jovially and kisses Vektor on the lips.

"You know I would if I could." He caresses his cheek.

Vektor collapses on the bed, slowly remembering how to resent the Ulgo boy.

"For someone who couldn't wait to button my shirt down last night, you sure are fast to button up your own now." He muttered dejectedly.

Far from feeling insulted, Martyn found a strange, comforting amusement in the comment.

"I'm sorry." He said, not feeling sorry "Er...? This was f-" He turned at the door, running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Just go." Vektor turned in bed and paid him no more mind. Martyn shrugged and accepted that this was his cue to leave.

"My Lord!" He was greeted upon his return.

He failed to grasp how it was that, even when he'd enter through the backdoors of his Estate to avoid being sighted, there would always be someone there to pester him regardless. It took the fun from being rich.

He nearly jumped.

"CK. What is it?" He turned to meet the servant droid.

"Your mother isn't home." He started.

"Why, that is one excellent way to start the day." He patted the droid's shoulder cheerfully "Keep up the good work."

"But-, My Lord: there is someone here claiming they want to meet with her." CK informed dutifully.

Martyn smiled mischievously.

"Oh, I doubt that." He started his way towards the library with disinterest. The droid trailed behind him.

"It's a Jedi Master, my Lord!" The droid insisted "I doubt it would be wise to be rude to someone so important... If you would just see to him...!"

Martyn was half-way up the stairs when he heard the words 'Jedi' and 'Master' put together in one sentence. His foot stopped mid-air.

"My mother hates Jedi." He commented with newfound intrigue.

He turned to his droid.

"Where would this Jedi be?"

"In the common room, Lord Ulgo."

"Just dandy."

Martyn quickly altered his course and set off to meet with the unexpected guest. Once he reached the common room he found Master Regon El-Tar, no less, standing in the middle of it, patiently waiting to be received. Martyn cleared his throat and the Jedi turned.

"You must be Hark." Regon made a polite conjecture.

Martyn responded with a lazy smile.

"That would be my brother."

"Oh. I beg your forgiveness then... Martyn, is it?"

Martyn ventured into the room, pacing about stealthily.

"Bingo." He sounds satisfied to be properly identified "Regon, is it?" He inquired with feigned innocence, refusing to be the only one stripped off his title "Fancy to meet a Jedi, here... Never had one of those before in our Estate... Not for lack of trying, though." He reflected.

El-Tar observed him silently. Martyn extended a hand invitingly.

"Please, do take a sit." He said as he found a chair for himself.

The Jedi Master followed his example.

"Still, if you would allow me to be frank, I must insist that you tell me the reason for your unexpected visit." He said nonchalantly "You're not here on official business, are you?" He asked, like most noble borns, with the distinct talent for making any polite statement sound like mockery.

"I was actually hoping to find your mother." Regon replied unaffected.

Martyn scoffed skeptically.

"I much doubt she would ever hope to find you." He commented.

Regon raised his eyebrows, only slightly taken aback. Martyn laughed out loud.

"Oh, forgive me, Master Jedi." He was quick to apologize "I don't mean to say I find your company displeasing; simply that I cannot, for the life of me, imagine a galaxy in which my mother would want to have anything to do with a Jedi."

El-Tar smiled ever so tranquil.

"We tend to be a rather persuasive kind."

"Oh, and I assure you I feel quite persuaded already." He smiled, standing up "But I think it would save you some time to know your Jedi charms would be quite wasted on my mother. She's too old to be persuaded. Surely you understand."

"Ah." He nodded compliant "Then perhaps it is best I go, after all." He stood and bowed, ready to leave.

"She might not be willing to help you." Martyn stopped him "But I don't see how she wouldn't be open to help her own son."

Regon took one good look at him and smiled intrigued.

"You don't even know what it is I came to ask." He commented.

"True. But I do have a few ideas as to what it is that I want."

"And what would that be?"

Martyn smiled arrogantly. He gestured once more for El-Tar to return to the room and make himself comfortable, and El-Tar agreed to this invitation with ambiguous reluctance.

"Your Council's grasp on their share of power must be weak indeed if they sent you here to negotiate." Martyn spoke as he filled a glass of wine for himself. He was glad to find there was no one at home to remind him it was too early to indulge oneself so shamelessly.

"Nobody sent me." Regon objected.

Martyn seemed impressed to hear this. He chuckled.

"Then I assume things are worse than I could have anticipated." He was astonished "Jedi acting behind the backs of Jedi... My, my..." He mocked on.

"It is for the Jedi that I do this, my Lord." Regon argumented.

"Please, you don't need to school a high born on how power grabbing works." He sat down, enjoying a sip of his wine "We've practically coined the concept."

He took a few sips from his drink in silence, not once taking his eyes off the Jedi Master. He put his cup aside and leaned comfortably forward in his seat.

"As it turns out, it seems that power is not only shifting inside your little Council, Master Jedi, but also between the noble houses. This particular change of tides is making many uncertain." He said while distractedly playing with his rings "Not my mother, however." He told him "Ever since house Organa has had 40% of their mines in the Outer Rim seized by Mandalorian raiders, she's been living as though this family's fears are long since past... And while I agree that seeing her purchase Lord Organa's actions on Czerka Corporation was as wildly satisfying to me as it must have been humilliating to them, I'm afraid her old eyes are keeping her from seeing the long-term consequences of her political idleness."

Martyn noticed Regon's eyes slowly change with every word that he uttered. Where once before they'd seen nothing but a lowly bachelor playing political dilettante, now they could no longer ignore the obvious, dangerous strategist that was being revealed. Regon wondered how long he must have been hiding behind his boyish looks, his fine clothes and his careless behaviour. He wondered if it would be too late by the time anyone realized that Martyn Ulgo had little to no intention at all of allowing anybody else to run his family. Youngest one or not.

How terrible, Regon understood rather quickly. Martyn reacted to the Jedi's quiet epiphany with a pleased, devious smile.

"I know what you want, Master Jedi," He said after the silence had prolonged enough "because we want the exact same thing: we want to guide our families through this invisible chaos that oscillates about us and ensure that they survive, because, whether they see it or not, nobody else is qualified to do so more than us."

Martyn had hoped for an interrumption or a reaction of some sort, but the Jedi showed no such impatience. It was ever so rare when Jedi weren't complete hypocrites.

"Surely you must have your own way of coming about it, which I presume is what you came to 'discuss' with my mother..." He smiled entertained "Offer her some grand reward in exchange for something seemingly harmless and then, alas, was she wrong." He leaned back "And so I must insist in making a counter offer."

"Which is?" Regon finally inquired.

"It's quite simple: you scratch my back, I scratch yours. Protect my legacy, Master El-Tar, and it will be at your disposal. I control senators, weapons, Czerka, and intelligence well beyond your grasp," He started "even for a respected Jedi Master."

"You mean your mother does." He reminded him.

"Well, he who holds the key has passage to the room, does he not?"

"Despite the key holder's reputation?"

Martyn's lips curved into a smile, not feeling insulted in the slightest.

"Reputation is but a mask, Master El-Tar. I figured Jedi would know that better than anybody else." He leaned back on his chair and rested his hands on his lap, fingers intertwined "So, Master Jedi. I ask that you speak as freely as you find it possible and tell me exactly how it is I may help you today."

Regon's pale blue eyes studied Martyn's. They were cold, like the soft kisses of snowflakes in the winter. Martyn grimaced, trying not to betray the fact that these had been all of his cards, and that if El-Tar should refuse him, then that would be the end of his little game.

"I'm looking for a woman named Kreia." The Jedi agreed to his partnership.

Martyn's expression gave away that he'd gone from controlling the course of the conversation into being completely unsure of what was going on.

"I've never heard that name before in my life." He confessed.

"Nor has anybody else... Other than a select few, which I believe may include your mother." Regon replied, seemingly not surprised that this was the case.

"And on what would you base this theory of yours?"

"I've been spending some time in the Jedi Archives." He replied "I've been conducting a quite extensive research of my own that lead me to something of a boring read."

"Pray, what 'read'?" Martyn insisted.

"Birth records." He spoke again "You see, twelve years ago, a woman signed under that name gave birth to a half-human child in one of Coruscant's hospitals."

"I'm hardly surprised, Master Jedi. Lots of women gave birth twelve years ago." He rested his chin on his fist, growing bored "Reckless, I know. That mindless insistence on perpetuating overpopulation..."

"While there is little information concerning this woman on the hospital records, there is plenty one can find about the person under whose care she was released." Regon went on in spite of him.

"Who was this person?" Martyn tapped his fingers.

"Your mother." Regon smiled.

The tapping of Martyn's fingers stopped abruptly.

He laughed.

"Oh, you're good." He pointed at the Jedi "And I was right. My mother would not like you." He stood from his chair and started pacing about the room, his glass of wine back on his hand.

Regon watched silently.

"Force knows what sort of corrupted little schemes you might be up to, Master Jedi." He said facing both the window and his options "But fine, if you want her, you can have her." He turned to look at him, dead in the eye. "Now it's time to talk about what I want."

Regon held his gaze and decided that it was too late not to trust him. If he could not trust Martyn Ulgo, then at least he could trust his ambition.