Myriad Reckonings

Sirejj looked up at him from his knife and studied him for a moment. He was still, reaching out to feel if anyone was within hearing distance.

"I am growing tired of the constant questioning of my methods," he said, his voice devoid of all of its previous casuality.

No one was nearby.

"There's a fine line between investigation and blatant prying." Tarkin's posture relaxed into almost predatory calm. "Trust me, I know. Your diligence is appreciated, but I have the rest of my family to look out for."

He straightened from his slouched position against the counter and in doing so so moved slightly closer to Tarkin. "I see my answers through the eyes of others. They reveal to me parts of the puzzle in their idle words. I would think your time with Vader would have taught you that at least." He still held the blade in his hand but the cloth has slipped and fallen to the floor.

"You seem to think I have some kind of interest in harming you or your family." His flickering green eyes were fixed on Tarkin and he didn't move a muscle as he spoke. He was perfectly still, as if poised for a strike. "None of you would be worth my time."

"Not yet. Circumstances change." Tarkin poured himself another cup of coffee and took a long sip, closing his eyes in apparent contentment. His mind had settled into sharp focus, almost in a knee-jerk response to Sirejj's changed demeanor. "Stay within my boundaries and we won't have a problem. Find your answes elsewhere."

"I would have thought by your distress over this entire situation you might have been more...determined for answers," he hissed, his eyes never leaving Tarkin. "Even those you trust may keep the truth from you."

He would not be put in a cage.

"Calm yourself, Sirejj." He set down the cup again, staring hard at Sirejj. "Of course I want answers. But you understand why I must take precautions." Tarkin made no attempt to hide the pleasure he was getting from finally seeing the Zabrak's composure crumble. His mind was calm and open. "You would do the same if your family were at risk."

Sirejj could tell he'd gone a little too far. Not yet. If he was to break composure, it should be when he had his blade ready to back up his words. Tarkin's condescension was maddening, but he knew that was the intent. He maintained physical control over himself except for the slightest tightening of his hand around the hilt of his knife and the faintest curl of his upper lip.

He did not bow from Tarkin's icy eyes and ignored the comment about his own family entirely. That was so clearly a lure for his emotions to further unbalance themselves.

"I can understand your concern for your family," He said, his tone cooled but still sharp as the blade in his fist. "But none of the information I seek would put you in danger. I want to hear of your son, but you have buried him so far down that we can't quite reach the answers."

That stirred the waters a little; Tarkin's jaw tightened ever so slightly. "You will hear of my son. I told you we would talk to Thalassa; content yourself with that. Gideon saw Garoche rarely. He's of no use, as I said. So leave him be."

The corner of Sirejj's upper lip twitched again, but he stifled the snarl in his chest before it came out. Not the time, not the time...
He forced his composure, his eyes never leaving the governor. Tarkin had somehow gained the upper hand here. He hated losing, especially to a condescending imperial. "Very well," he said slowly, his words as cold as forged steel. What was he hiding that he was afraid would be discovered? He would still question who he liked, if he could get away with it. There was always so much more to learn.

Questioning Gideon had been more to learn of Tarkin himself. The Grand Moff was part of the puzzle, and Sirejj was determined to see what was in this man's head. But he was not fool enough to try and explain that to Tarkin.

Tarkin studied Sirejj a moment longer, then picked up his coffee and finished it in two gulps. "I'll send for you when I'm ready," he said, and left him there in the kitchen.

He didn't go directly to his room to clean up. Instead he sought out Gideon, who was reading on the patio. He grasped him tightly by the shoulder, leaned down behind him, and muttered, "If my bodyguard questions you about our family and you answer truthfully, you'll wake up with no teeth in your mouth. Do I make myself clear?" Gideon didn't look up from his reading, but his fingers tightened on his data pad as the stench of blood filled his nostrils.

"I'm not an idiot," he said quietly. "Probably shouldn't have hired him if you're that worried about him chatting." He winced as his brother's fingers dug into his skin.

"Keep to yourself. He's here for Garoche."

"I figured that. Piss off; you're not scaring anyone."

Tarkin withdrew, giving Gideon another glare before he went up to his room to get clean. Gideon, once his brother was out of sight, let out a shaky breath and set down his datapad to mop at his brow with a trembling hand.

Sirejj was calm for the few moments after Tarkin left but when the focus wore off he was seething. Tarkin's actions had been reasonable. That wasn't the issue. He didn't have to be working with this man. He could find the answers to his questions from the Atoans himself if it came down to it. But here Tarkin was using his authority to push him around. And that was what was so infuriating.

He placed the knife back in the sheath on his belt. He extended his hand and used the force to pull a bottle from the shelf into his hand. It felt good to use his power after all this time masquerading as some bounty hunter. He took it and opened it, smelling the contents carefully before pouring some for himself.

He looked down the hall where Tarkin had vanished and a growl rumbled in his chest, his fist tight around the cup in his hand. He would find Tarkin's secrets sooner or later. Perhaps he should sell them to his enemies just to spite him. It would prove Tarkin right, but it would be most amusing.

Gideon was a lost cause he guessed. He'd have to find other means to gather his intelligence

Tarkin came back downstairs afterward and went looking for Sirejj. He was calmer now, in better spirits overall now that he'd bent Gideon and Sirejj away from each other. It felt good to be in control of something.

Sirejj could feel him coming and waited in one of the halls like a shadow. He'd regained complete composure, outwardly at least. The sight of him heated his anger again, but he remained calm.

Tarkin spotted him fairly quickly. "Ah, there you are, Sirejj. Shall we speak to Thalassa now?" He kept his tone light; he could see the Zabrak was still rankled by the earlier exchange. Good, he thought, that would make him easier to read.

"We should." He said curtly. It's about time