Chapter _

Pantoran Assembly

Trav-iss Torn poured over the documents in his office, trying to slow his heartrate. Speeches and reports flashed before his eyes. Bill, bill, proposal, speech for the orphanage opening… ah, there it was. Finally, the Assembly had allowed him to travel back to the luxury of Coruscant and let him out of this death trap of a city. Of course, now he had to make a speech in front of the Senate, but at least he would be safe from the random explosions. Pushing the pile of documents to the side, he sat in the comfortable chair, and placed the piece of paper on the reek's hide desk.

Most Senators liked the constant advancements in technology. It allowed them to keep a watchful eye on their hundreds of documents in a single datapad. However, Trav-iss was a little paranoid. He didn't want his documents hacked and dispersed amongst his peers, so he went with old school physical paper. No one could hack those. Steal? Yes. But hack? Not a chance

He looked down at the piece of paper, scanning over the Aurebesh scribbles. One last glance before he would pack this list in his bags for the journey tomorrow. The list was from the Chairman. It detailed exactly what the Assembly thought Pantora needed during this time. They were rather simple things, really. Alli Chosan, the minister for agriculture, said that because Turret had been one of the first cities hit, the food storage was down. With winter fast approaching for the southern hemisphere, the Assembly needed to secure food and medicine that they could usually trade for with the profits made from Turret.

The minister for Security, Halau Day, wanted more men. The troops the Republic had sent for security were adequate, but they had been insignificant compared to the amount of hit and run attacks occurring on the distribution centres scattered around the city. With the Jedi requesting aid in transporting these goods, Trav-iss needed to secure more troopers to protect his people. Halau was being back by Manu Seesla, minister for education, and Trah Gulash, one of the ministers of Finance.

There were also requests for additional supplies and for a permanent outpost of Republic troops stationed on or near the surface. Another request asked for the Chancellor himself to come with additional Jedi to help them beat back the terrorists. That had come from Teetee Minau. Minau was Trav-iss' rival. Unbelievably, he had also requested for funds to shore up an army of battle droids to help protect them.

A portly man in comparison to Trav-iss' lean figure, Minau hailed from Simbit. The politician owned half of the industrial companies in the Southern hemisphere, and had been given the title 'Minister of Transportation'. He controlled the air and space control towers and the communication satellites, which gave him a prestedious and powerful position in the media. In the last election, Minau had only just been beaten for the ambassadorial position. Ever since, he had begun a campaign to undermine Trav-iss' credibility and reputation. False news stories, threats, even rumours of the Senator's non-existent love affairs had been leaked to the Holonet newscasts. The latest scandal claimed that Trav-iss was actually supporting the terrorists, financing their evil plots. Utter nonsense, he had said when asked for a statement. But it still made his blood boil at the thought.

He forced his thoughts off the pompous idiot and back to the paper, trying to formulate some way that the words could become a powerful speech. His first speech before the entire Senate. He needed to show the galaxy that Pantora was still a strong planet, but that they needed help to remain that strong. They needed to shore up their defences before they collapsed entirely. But how could he convince the Senate of this and still keep his dignity. If he failed, his entire reputation would collapse. His life that he had carefully crafted would disappear.

No! Not today! He would assure that his legacy continued for years to come. Picking up the datapad to his right, he tapped up an order to the staff at his home. With the request logged, he then purged the device of any history that could link the order to him.

A gentle ringing filled the office and he looked over at the rectangular door that marked the entrance to his office. Pressing a button on his desk, he allowed the door to open, letting the person on the other side in. Agatha Menudi. The head of the Senatorial handmaidens. He tensed slightly when he saw her, the old, wrinkled form standing tall and regal in her thick woollen dress. It was her utilitarian uniform, a simple blue smock with a long-sleeved coat over the top, cinched with a thick leather belt. Suitable for the colder climate while remaining subtly fashionable, yet bland enough to blend into the background. Precisely what a handmaiden was supposed to do. Stay in the background and simply listen.

She bowed as she entered, before fixing him with a stare. He found himself staring into those two icy eyes, the thick yellow tattoos going diagonally across the corners of her eyes and stopping just below her cheekbones. That stare made him feel both calmer and simultaneously tenser at the same time.

"The handmaidens are prepared, Trav-iss.", she said. Her eyes never left his, never stopped that icy glare. "I sent them back to their quarters to rest up."

He nodded, "Thank you for taking care of that. I'm still trying to figure out how to turn this into the speech that can help us."

"You will.", she answered simply.

"I appreciate that, but this is still my first speech in front of the entire Senate."

She smiled at that. It is a small smile, but one that lifted his spirits the tiniest amount, "I understand that. We just need to let them hear our plea. The truth is that a single speech won't change their minds, Trav-iss. It's all about favours in the Senate. Use your talents."

He frowns, feeling a cold sweat on his brow. "My talents are limited when my life is in danger. The sooner I am on Coruscant, the better this speech will be."

With night fallen, the man made his way out of the tall administration building, looked both left and right, and then hurried off down the street. He kept the hood of his cloak over his head, and moved with unnecessary speed. But he was slowing quickly. A life of luxurious meals and expensive wines had added a few pounds to his figure. The huge beard on his face was visible even under his hood. He made his way into the nearby alley, looking around the walls nervously.

"Minau.", he heard a quiet whisper echo around the alley and jumped. "Minau, you know why I'm here?"

"I do.", he swallowed down the nerves forming in his throat. He felt a long set of fingers curl around his neck.

"You have been lying to me, Teetee.", the voice continued. The fingers tightened slightly.

He tried to swallow in what little oxygen could make it down his thinning throat. Tried to form the words that he needed to save himself. "I… I swear I haven't."

"So you say.", the whisper was moving away, but the grip remained. Minau's eyes widened as he realised that the woman was not even holding his throat, but was somehow choking him without touching him. "But our deal is taking longer than you promised. Tell me, why are you not giving us reliable intelligence, minister?"

The only sound that could make it out of his throat was a gurgling gasp. His legs dangled above the ground, kicking as the oxygen lagged from his brain. He felt fear course through his body. But that was a feeling that he is used to. This was a more primal need. A need to leave, to run. But he steeled himself. They need him, he reminded himself. Without him, their plan is nothing.

The woman's voice continued, "I imagine it is because you might have a few other targets you want us to eliminate before you can rise to the position of Chairman; before you can honour our agreement. Well… NO MORE! No more lies, or threats, or political games. You will tell me how to attack Chi Cho, how to get you into that position so that my, sorry, OUR master can use the resources of this system. Do you understand?"

He spins in the air, crashing to the ground and sliding across the ground. He looks up into the face above him. It isn't the woman. She stands off to the side, wrapped in her cloak with the hood pulled over her horrifying face. No, the face above him as that of her bodyguard. The Kaleesh helmet beneath it is somehow more horrifying, with marks of red lining it's cranial curve. The eyes beneath the mask are the most intense mixture of yellow and green. Around them, the skin is red.

Once more, Minau gulps down fear. He splutters for a second, trying to come up with a way that he could sound less incriminated, a way to save this uneasy alliance, "I understand, Madame Vinchis. Believe me, the targets you have been hitting have made it possible for Senator Trav-iss to leave the planet. Chi Cho is now vulnerable. There is one more person who could be a problem, however. The Jedi, Mace Windu. If you can remove him, then Chi Cho will be completely exposed. An attack on the office will draw him to the underground security tunnel, and there, you will be waiting."

"Anything else?"

Anything else? He had just requested that they kill a Jedi, and the woman dismissed it as thought that had been a run of the mill request. Then he shrugged. They had clearly known that the Jedi would arrive here at some point. These… these nomads had to have some plan to deal with the Republic wizards.

"I hear that the Jedi are sending supplies to the other cities you have hit.", he told Vinchis, "If you can show that those supply routes are vulnerable, it would keep the Republic forces spread thin in the other villages."

"Teetee Minau, you need to know that we have our own goals here.", she spoke thickly and deliberately, "We do not need you nearly as much as you need us. Remember that."

He swallowed again, "I do, Madame."

Her eyes narrow at him, but she gives him a curt nod. She turns, throwing her cloak around as she does, and disappears into the shadows. And for the first time that night, Minau let go of a deep breath he had been holding. For as horrifying at the Kaleesh's face was, it was nothing compared to the horror that was Vinchis' face. Her's was lean, and pale, and bald, with a series of puffed up scars covering the soft tissue. She claimed that each scar represented a kill. And she had told him that one more screw up would mean that he would be next.