Myriad Reckonings

Tarkin stepped out around the same time, freshly shaved and washed. He was dressed in a simple blue tunic and vest that were cut in a modified Coruscanti style--namely a much longer hem and tapered sleeves--and pants tucked into high-rise boots. Conservatively used silver embroidery decorated the entire outfit.

He gave Sirejj a nod and headed down the hall, expecting the Zabrak to follow.

Sirejj wore a plain dark grey tunic and tabard complete with a wide belt and trousers of a similar color. It was a more traditional look than he was accustomed to, but luckily the tunic was sleeveless and his scarred, tattooed arms and the carefully fitted pieces of armor offset the plainness of it all.

He followed Tarkin in silence

Tarkin said nothing until they were in the dining room, which was ornately decorated in a painfully Coruscant-inspired color scheme and design.

A man was sitting at the table already. He was in his mid forties, with a few gray streaks in his short blond hair. A generous muttonchop mustache hid most of the bottom of his face, but the pale blue eyes and angular face clearly identified him as one of the Tarkin brood. He looked up as Tarkin entered.

"Wilhuff," he said with a nod.

"Gideon." Tarkin returned the nod and seated himself at the table as servants brought out food. Gideon Tarkin's eyes flicked to Sirejj, and he frowned.

"A Zabrak bodyguard?" he asked in surprise. "I didn't think things had gotten that bad."

"Politics is a dangerous business."

Sirejj wasn't sure if that was meant as a compliment or a stab. He glanced at Tarkin and waited for the nobility to be seated before spying his plate and sitting down. He said nothing, playing the part of a silent bodyguard well.

He would speak if need be but was hoping to be a fly on the wall as much as possible and gather more information.

Gideon raised an eyebrow, glancing between Tarkin and Sirejj, but seemed to think better of questioning it further. He turned to his plate instead and began to serve himself.

The brothers ate in relative silence for a painstaking ten minutes. Gideon heaped generous portions on his plate while Tarkin merely ate slowly and took small bites. Their meals differed as well--Gideon seemed to favor a well-done cut with plentiful sauces and side dishes. The elder brother had a few vegetables and a steak so rare that it was bleeding. He'd shaken a little salt and pepper onto it, but other than that the meat was unmarinated.

As Gideon was beginning his third helping, he looked up and addressed Sirejj. "So are you part of a guild, or did my brother poach you from someplace?" Tarkin raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

Ah yes, being treated like a lesser being. Poached indeed, Sirejj felt he could defeat Tarkin easily and stick his head on a pike, not the other way around.

"I am an independent operator who has been fortunate enough to have my skills recognized by the Empire." He said smoothly. He would not miss an opportunity to gloat, but it must be tempered. Testing authority was a favorite pastime but it wouldn't get him any closer to his objective.

"Fascinating. And what was it about your skills that made the Governor choose you?"

"He's another set of eyes," Tarkin said, not looking up from his meal. "That's all."

"Pretty intimidating for a lookout," Gideon observed. "You're certainly not one for half measures, Wil."

Sirejj didn't answer the question, he let Tarkin's answer suffice.

Intimidating was the idea. He was quiet, but never shied from eye contact with either one of them.

Gideon returned to his meal for a little while, and the table lapsed back into silence. He spoke again after he had finished his food. Tarkin had also finished and had pushed his chair back when Gideon said, "I don't suppose you could find me a bodyguard like him?"

Tarkin paused, one eyebrow quirking up. "For you? Why?"

Gideon glanced at the door. "Things have been a bit tense, politically speaking. Got a couple dirty looks on Coruscant, that's all."

Tarkin settled himself back in his seat and leaned forward. "A few glares isn't enough to shake you. There's more."

"A little confrontation," Gideon said uneasily. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, but..."

Tarkin's eyes flickered to Sirejj. "We'll discuss this privately, Gideon. Later." Gideon hesitated, following his brother's gaze.

"I really don't mind him hearing."

"I do."

"With all due respect," he glanced at Gideon, and then his eyes shifted to Tarkin. "Any information regarding a threat to our safety would be helpful if I am to fulfill my duties." He spoke with indifference, not wanting to appear too prying. However, it helped his cause that Tarkin had to hold up his end of the lie as well and hopefully wouldn't make a scene

He was prying, but one never knew. What is political gossip now may turn into intelligence later.

Spoiler

edited because my sentences made no sense been a long day already

Tarkin shot him a look. Once again, the Zabrak had a point.
But to be seen backing down to a subordinate...not in front of his brother.

"He has a point," Gideon said, voicing his own thoughts. "I can't imagine I'm the real target, I'm hardly anyone except in the military. If I'm drawing ire on Coruscant, that's probably directed more at you. A Tarkin's a Tarkin, right?"

Right.

"Be brief," he said at last.

Gideon straightened in his chair. "It was outside the senate building. I was there with Nils for a meeting with a few other officials--about that little issue on Lothal, you remember--and a woman came up to me. She started arguing with me about policies I'd never heard of. Your area of things, you know." Gideon scratched his chin. "I'm not a fast walker, as you're aware. I'd paused to talk to her and Nils had walked ahead a little to give us some privacy, and I tried to get over to him but she grabbed my arm. She'd gotten aggressive at this point, so I signaled a stormtrooper patrol to subdue her, knowing I wasn't going to make it to Nils." A pause.

"And?"

"She pulled a blaster and I took matters into my own hands before she could point it." He wrung his hands.

Tarkin's frown deepened. "Did she live?"

"Of course," Gideon said harshly. "I wouldn't kill someone!" Not in public. "She detained and given medical care, as far as I know."

Sirejj rested his elbows on the table with hands resting in a steepled position as he listened intently, his eyes fixed on Gideon. He doubted any of this would affect their mission on Atoa, unless Gideon was onto something when he said that the more infamous of the two was most likely the intended target.

"Unfortunate the unrest has come to the point of threatening Coruscant." He lowered his hands so his forearms rested on the table. "That must be concerning."

"At least it hasn't made its way home," Gideon pointed out. "But I'd like to take precautions, all the same."

"Did this woman introduce herself?" Tarkin asked. "Who was she affiliated with?"

"She didn't say. She had an Outer Rim accent, though."

"If she pulled a blaster on you in public then we have to assume she was acting independently. That was foolish to say the least."

"I'm sure I know of a few good bodyguards for hire." At this point Sirejj was only keeping the conversation going, as Tarkin was not the conversationalist. Besides, he'd like to know more about Gideon and the rest of his family. They were secretive, which made his job of uncovering information about his son difficult.

"Do recommend them if you can," Gideon said, offering him a grateful smile. "You're not part a a guild, though, I understand?"

Tarkin settled back in his chair, content to let Gideon converse as he wished. He was tired; he'd prefer to go to bed but he couldn't very well leave this matter unaddressed. If Sirejj had bodyguards to recommend, let him do so. Tarkin would vet them himself later.