"Always with the excuses, Alnam," Arlos Trome tells him.

"You're gonna love this one," he replies.

"Is that so?"

"You tell me. I'm meeting with the Chancellor tomorrow."

It's a quiet, peaceful evening at the Senate Intelligence Oversight Commission building. The eighth month is drawing to its end.

The staircase they're talking on is lit only through windows. It makes the situation look cozier than it is. Makes Trome look cozier.

Under any lighting, she looks like trouble. Alnam is grateful he has the tomorrow's appointment.

"No shit," she whistles.

"None."

"Damn, I need to learn how to bow properly."

"Or do a curtsey, in your case."

"Or a curtsey. Anything — as long as gets me invited to Palpatine's private party."

"It's not a party, it's pretty serious business. And I had to invite myself."

"What? That's even more insane. Curtsey courses for me, then."

She goes down a couple of stairs before she turns to Alnam and says: "Or maybe it's just a ruse, and you made it so ridiculous so that I won't even think to check it."

"Why would I pull one like that on you, Trome?"

"Maybe you don't like women."

"I do. Don't forget I'm still married."

Immediate bad taste in his mouth. Still? Don't forget? What the fuck?

"Oh, so it's your knightly principles that keep you out of my company."

"The company you're very eager to sell. Too eager. Men don't like it."

"And you know what men like?"

"Yes — on account of being a man."

They exit the building. Another Joint Commission meeting is over. Another nothing is resolved.

"I've talked to men plenty," Arlos says, "but you're a hard nut."

"Am I now?"

"Oh ho, not just now. Ever since we've met, more like."

"Then why waste time on me?"

"Because you don't live with your wife anymore."

The bad taste intensifies. "Oh yeah? Who told you that?"

Great quip.

"Come on, everybody knows."

"I prefer to think not everybody discusses my matrimonial situation at smoke breaks."

"You should take up smoking. There's tons of stuff you'd never guess happening there."

"I'd rather leave that place undisturbed. Water dispensers are more than enough for me."

"So you're really meeting with the man himself?" She stops in her tracks — a very annoying habit of hers. She does it when she wants to emphasize something.

"Do you want me to ask him to sign something for you? You know, my son asked for Skywalker's autograph."

Very nice — bringing Yalgi into this.

"I'm just trying to assess if I should pursue you further."

"I don't like being pursued. I know it on account of being myself."

"Of course." She eyes him head to toe. "You like pursuing, don't you, Vad?"

It doesn't bring him the sort of memories she probably intended to bring up.

"No," he says. "And I especially don't like when people talk like they are in some shitty soap opera."

She starts walking again. "You can be really boring, you know that?"

"I do. That's how I prefer to be."

"And then you meet with the fucking Chancellor the next day."

"Is that not your definition of boring? We're going to talk about technical stuff for maybe ten minutes, if he's even got that much time to spare. Exciting."

"More exciting than giving public safety lectures at schools."

"Don't banthashit me. That's not what you do."

"I'd rather do that than spend all day at the office. When are they going to give me a cool mission, like when you had to climb over the abyss?"

"Believe me, it's only cool if you are not the one doing it."

"Hey, I was good at climbing back at school."

"Which probably didn't feature an abyss of any sort."

"It didn't." She stops again. It's weird — it's very annoying, but Alnam low-key wants her to do it. "You call yourself boring, but you do the craziest stuff anyone in the RDS has done in a decade and get cozy with the Supreme Chancellor. The worst thing is, I really think you are boring — even though you shouldn't be. But you're like a special kind of boring, which is boring, but interesting in your boredom. Man, I'm sounding like a complete mouth-breather right now."

Alnam raises his eyebrows, real fast-like. Then he starts walking.

"Obsession is never healthy," he says.

.

.

.

He gets a guard to accompany him in the Senate Annex — the fancy kind in a plumed helmet and all. It breathes some awe into Alnam. Said awe dies immediately after the second argument the blue-robed guard gets into with the red-robed ones that are posted every few dozen meters on the upper floors of the Annex. After the fourth and final argument, Alnam's companion even mutters something under his nose. Alnam can't hear him — and decides it's for the best.

The guard walks him to the elevator going to the Chancellor's floor and entrusts him to two of his red counterparts. They don't exchange any words.

Three floors up. The elevator doors open into a long hall. Alnam can only enjoy the sunny sky above, seen through the transparisteel ceiling, so much — his stomach is in hard anticipation. Shit, he thinks, I've met him already. Why am I so damn anxious?

He doesn't like the idea of coming here anymore.

Another red-robe comes to meet them. This one wears no helmet and has a dangerously sharp-looking beard.

"Captain Rantid," he introduces himself as he checks Alnam's ID. "Please follow me."

Alnam does.

"Are there also green guards?" he asks to combat the fucking tension.

Rantid laughs. "No. Just us and the blue team. They're still angry about the gym."

"The gym?"

The hall is long enough to accommodate a few more questions — especially since the captain doesn't seem to mind.

"There's a gym one floor down. Nobody used it for, like, ten years before His Excellency put his office here. He gave the gym to us — and the blueys got upset over it. Too bad — we ain't giving it back."

"Must be a good position."

"It is. The best one."

"Are you in charge here, Captain?"

"There's also the Executive Building Security Office, but eh, I only really answer to His Excellency."

The hall narrows and turns into a small lobby area. A Rodian behind a desk blocking access to the door farther into the office greets them — in his own language.

While he is checking something via a comm, Captain Rantid whispers to Alnam: "A shameful thing, isn't it?"

"Why is he here?" Alnam doesn't care, but he can tell the captain expects to be asked this question.

"To show them all there's no oppression of aliens on Coruscant."

The Rodian looks up from the desk. "Would you be so kind as to wait? His Excellency will see you shortly."

"Thank you."

Sofas on both sides of the lobby look soft, but Alnam can't bring himself to sit down — his body is too agitated.

"Do you check everyone who comes here personally?" he asks the captain.

"Yes," Rantid nods seriously. "What do you want? It's the Supreme Chancellor's office. Of course I have to check everybody. Guess how many days off I get per month?"

"None at all?"

Rantid makes an amicable shrug. "You're a detective alright."

Alnam tries not to check his watch too often, but ends up doing it anyway. Can't remember the time as soon as he looks away from the display.

Finally, the Rodian speaks up. "His Excellency will see you now."

Past his desk, the doors slide open. They walk in: Captain Rantid first and proud, and following him — Alnam with his heart not knowing whether to stop beating or up its tempo.

They cross another lobby, but Alnam barely pays attention — his eyes are fixed on the room behind it. He's seen it a million times on holovision before. Every citizen has. Two short sets of steps lead to a raised platform.

And there, with his back to Coruscant's magnificence, sits Palpatine.

"Special agent Vad Alnam to see you, Your Excellency," the captain reports. "From the RDS, sir."

"Oh, I know who Agent Alnam is," Palpatine smiles. "Thank you, Captain."

Rantid curtly nods and retreats. Alnam can't say where to — just somewhere outside of Palpatine's gravity field.

"Please, take a sit," the Chancellor extends his hand to the four chairs in front of his desk. "Pick any one you like."

Alnam zones out for what must be good twenty seconds, unsure which set of steps to take. He chooses the left one at the end — and one of the inner chairs.

"Thank you for accepting my audience request, sir."

"Not at all. How was the yesterday's session?"

"About the same as the previous two, if I may be honest."

"You should be honest. Do you feel the Joint Commission is not up to par?"

"It's not for me to judge it, Your Excellency."

"Oh, but it is. You sit on it. Who, if not you, should be the judge?"

"I have doubts about the efficiency of it so far, sir. I feel like very little productive has come out of it this year."

"Alas. What you say matches the words of some of your colleagues. Well. What can I do for you, Agent?"

"I won't take much of your time," Alnam uses the one he prepared at home — even though he knows it's not something he has to say to Palpatine. "Uh, it's actually about one of my investigations."

The Chancellor furrows his brows.

"My, Agent Alnam. You shouldn't have waited, then. Next time, please tell me at once it is part of your work, and I will meet you as soon as I can."

"I know you are a busy man—"

"That's what my assistants told you, no doubt. They think I cannot handle the pressure." A sad smile finds its way to Palpatine's lips. "But I like to prove them wrong. Do not steal such a chance from me."

"I won't, sir."

"You do have a channel of contacting me... more directly. You know Kinman, do you not?"

"Kinman..?"

"Yes, Kinman Doriana."

Oh.

"I do, sir."

"Good. Do not hesitate to call him, then. So — what is it I can help you with?"

"My questions will perhaps sound strange to you — and, to an extent, they are — but we have to work every possibility through."

It's both easy and hard to talk under Palpatine's attentive eyes.

"I wanted to ask you about an old acquaintance of yours," Alnam makes himself continue. "Uh, Hego Damask? The Second? He was one of the donors during your first chancery campaign?"

Palpatine gives him a mischievous look. "I know who Magister Damask was, Agent."

"Yes, of course, sir."

"And if you let me correct you a little, he was my biggest donor."

Alnam nods. Has to keep himself from saying anything.

"Ah, yes. Magister Damask." The Chancellor looks above Alnam's head. "My old partner in crime." He puts his eyes back on Alnam. "What do you want to know about him?"

"I tried to establish something through the usual sources — you know, the media, the police reports — but I was unable to piece it together."

"Yes?"

"The matter of Magister Damask's demise."

The Chancellor's face turns solemn. "Uhm. The most tragic thing."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"No, no. I can talk about it."

"Thank you. The thing is, I could not get the full picture of his death. It occurred around the time of the election, didn't it?"

"It occurred," Palpatine leans with his elbows on his desk, "on the night before the people of the Republic elected me. On that very night — can you believe it?"

"Frankly, I didn't when I read it. I thought it was just the media people going at it again. I wasn't sure about the date. Not to mention the circumstances of his death. I understand it must be hard for you—"

"It's quite fine, I assure you."

"As his," Alnam makes a pause, "friend, I thought, maybe you would be able to shed some light on said circumstances."

"Do you want to know how he died?"

"If that's not too much to ask."

"You are conducting an investigation. Obviously it is not. Magister Damask, you see, was a very reclusive man."

"I got that impression."

"He became even more reclusive after that attempt."

"The attempt, sir?"

"The attempt on his life. It was in 17 BrS. It failed, but... it took the lives of a few of his dear friends and crippled him. He was forced to wear a transpirator, and it made him eschew public appearances more than ever before."

"I thought it was a speeder crash. Was it orchestrated by someone?"

"No, it was not a speeder crash, and yes, it was orchestrated by someone. The police never found the guilty party — partly because of Damask's hatred for being in the spotlight. He did the most, I'm afraid, to bury the case — including spreading the speeder crash story."

"Did he, to your knowledge, have enemies?"

"Plenty," Palpatine says simply. "I tried to carry out my own investigation, but I am not a detective — and my friend did not want me to do it, so I gave up on it. But I failed him more the following two decades. He grew, you see, progressively more dependent on painkillers. I would ask you to treat this information with respect to the deceased man, if possible."

"I will do my best, sir."

"During his later years, he also took to more earthly habits. I would often find him inebriated. That night... that night was no different. He had a few bottles of Sullustan wine, and... Alcohol and medicine make poor friends."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Alnam decides to say.

"Mm, thank you. Why is the sudden interest in Magister Damask, if I may inquire?"

Don't say what you're about to say. Listen to Krev.

He's a good guy, but paranoid.

"One of our investigations," Alnam says, after all, "concerns a few companies we believe Magister Damask could hold a stake in. I'm not at liberty to disclose more details, I'm afraid—"

"Of course."

"But I would like to ask you a few more questions, sir — if your schedule permits."

"It is an RDS investigation, so my schedule will have to be adjusted."

Nice — you are disrupting the work of the most important man in the Galaxy. Should've listened to Krev and gone to Father.

"One of the companies in question is called the Ordulann Conglomerate." Alnam tries to speak faster. "Maybe you can recall Magister Damask ever mentioning it to you?"

Palpatine rubs his chin. "You must forgive me, Agent Alnam. It was an awfully long time ago and besides, I was never terribly fascinated by my late friend's business ventures. Ah, the arguments we had over it!" He breaks out of his sweet reminiscing and says, "Can you specify where this conglomerate is based? Maybe then I will remember something."

"I'm mostly interested in one company in it. LiMerge Power?"

"I know it, of course. Who doesn't? Many accused it of being a pawn of the Trade Federation. They claimed the Neimoidians paid LiMerge to later blame it for the attacks on their ships. It was not proven, but LiMerge Power stayed on the news for a while back then."

"And have you discussed it with Magister Damask?"

"I'm quite sure we have. We discussed everything that concerned the invasion of Naboo, so naturally, those rumors would come up."

"Did he mention having done business with them? With LiMerge Power?"

A momentary pause. "No. I think I would have remembered it if he did. So you're telling me LiMerge is part of Ordulann?"

"It is, sir."

"Well, if you want to talk to the executives, maybe we can organize a closed communication channel with Tythe..."

"That is not necessary, sir. I doubt they will be straight with anyone from the Republic."

"As you wish. It is your investigation."

"What about Ulmis Systems?"

"Is it also an Ordulann company?"

"It is not, as far as I know." You know for fact it's not, so why the banthashit language? "No. It's a separate thing, although it's connected to the same case."

"Ulmis Systems... No, I haven't heard of it, either."

"I see. Well, I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"And I'm sorry I couldn't be of help. If I had to guess, thought, I'd say you may have a better chance asking your father."

Krev Devin and the Supreme Chancellor. Think of a weirder duo.

"My father?"

"He knew Hego Damask as well as I did — or maybe even better. What he definitely had more patience for was business conversations. Yes, Vygo has always been more commerce-minded than I."

"I'll be sure to ask him, then."

"I think you should do it, Vad. We often do not appreciate the knowledge of our elders until it is too late."

Alnam nods with a thoughtful — he'd like to think so — look on his countenance.

"My father," he says, "you know, he does not have a lot of good to say about you."

"I know that and I cannot repay him with the same currency. Even after all these years, my respect for Vygo is as strong as it ever was."

"Perhaps it's due to the disagreements you've had and not despite them? If I may suggest?"

Palpatine smiles. "I liked you during our first meeting, Agent Alnam. I love being right about people."

"Thank you, sir."

"It's good that our most important agency has men like you. Inquisitive men. Though please don't tell your friends from the SBI or the RI about what I said."

"I'll take your assessment to the grave. Sir, one more question, if I may?"

"As many as you deem needed."

"I could not establish what happened to Magister Damask's — rather vast, as I'm inclined to believe — capitals after his death."

"You want to know if I inherited any?"

"It's none of my business, but... For a businessman of Hego Damask's caliber, it's strange that no information made it to the public."

"Will I be wrong if I assume you must be wondering if Hego's money was used in the creation of our army?"

"No, sir. You will be right."

Palpatine reclines in his chair. "That's a very good question. Indeed, the public doesn't know what happened to his fortune — and indeed, his fortune was vast. In his will, he bestowed on me a few prized possessions, but their value is more sentimental than material. You will forgive me if I withhold what exactly those possessions were."

"Of course, sir."

"But I only ever heard the part of his will that concerned myself. That was, I was told by his solicitor, also part of his will that no inheritor would know what the others got. I must admit, it concerns me to this day — because I cannot imagine what could warrant such secrecy. After all, he had no children, and giving his wealth to scientific or educational facilities is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially worrying is that Magister Damask owned a very considerable share in almost every major weapons and warships manufacturer in the Republic, and I mean the Republic as it was at the time of his death. Together with the shares Damask Holdings had, you can say he could influence the entire industry, if he so wished. And all those shares had to go somewhere."

"And virtually none of them are publicly traded."

"Technically, they are — but their owners are free to keep their anonymity, which most of them do. The benefits of being located in the Corporate Sector."

"This is worrying indeed."

"I try not to use that word in vain."

"Sir, did Magister Damask know one Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas?"

"He definitely knew some Jedi Masters. Count Dooku — when he was one. As for Sifo-Dyas... I cannot tell you for sure."

"I know I'm a question past the one I promised would be the last—"

"Go for it, Vad." Palpatine's smile is reassuring.

"Do you believe Magister Damask could have anything to do with the army? With its commission, I mean? Was he the sort of person to—"

"To use war for his benefit?"

"That's not what I meant, sir."

"Forgive me if I don't believe it. It is the smart thing to ask." The Chancellor takes a deep breath. "You see, Magister Damask was exactly the sort of person to use anything he could for his benefit. He had no moral qualms whatsoever. It was uncanny, really. Sometimes, I would forget whom I was dealing with — he knew his masks — but then, he would say something that snapped me out of my delusion, and I remembered who it was before me. Do I feel guilty about working with such a man? About using his money in my political career?"

"Sir, if you did not, I don't even know where we would have been today."

Palpatine shrugs. "Maybe. The greater good is something I think of frequently. But even still, I do not know if taking money from Damask was the right thing to do. From the moral standpoint, it obviously was not — even though he assured me none of the money I was taking had come from war profiteering. But even if it was so, then some of his other operations were financed with the money that did. What right did I have to condemn the Trade Federation, if the person funding my campaign was scarcely better than them?"

Alnam realizes it's probably not the first time Palpatine is saying this speech — but the Chancellor sounds so genuinely upset that he can't help but try and console him.

"It's politics, sir."

"Maybe. Has my decision helped more people than those who suffered for that money to end up fueling my campaign? Is it even a valid question? I don't know, and I doubt it every day. That I doubt it is the only thing that keeps me from losing all faith in myself."

"I think — and the Galaxy thinks, I feel — that you did the right thing. I, for what it's worth, is grateful that you did. We do have to compromise at times." Alnam almost feels like telling the Fozatta tale now. The thought of it lingers in his mind for a whole second. "The compromises we make with ourselves are the hardest ones — but they too sometimes have to be made."

"This is why I respect your father as much as I do," Palpatine says after a moment of silence. "He doesn't believe in compromises. But men like Vygo Alnam are born once a millennium, perhaps — and the rest of us have to take the easier path."

He sounds more certain now, more stalwart, and so Alnam can say, "Thank you for your time, sir."