As it was, the smuggler chief considered for a few seconds before filling in the gaps with some interesting information of his own, all be it accidentally. "Would this be for a certain well-placed house named D'Arca?"
Luke's expression changed not a whit, "Why would you say that?"
Karrde shrugged, "Well they've certainly been going out of their way recently to make it known that they hold great deal of respect for the new Heir. Beladon D'Arca seems to have made it his mission to be seen to be backing you."
Which was interesting Luke reflected, since aside from a few brief words at an assortment of formal functions or in Court, he had never really spoken to the head of the high-ranking, powerful family, well placed in both the Royal Houses and the military. But he had heard his name several times recently from different sources, all saying pretty much the same thing.
"Really?" he couldn't hide the genuine interest from his voice, making Karrde frown.
"You didn't know?"
"Yes, I'm just curious as to why." Something itched in the back of his senses. Not pushing yet; not important, but there nonetheless.
"Perhaps he's just placing an each-way bet." Karrde said easily, meaning that the man was backing both Palpatine and his Heir.
"But why stick his neck out and make that public?" Luke murmured, unconvinced, "Why risk his present position?"
The smuggler shrugged to hide his surprise; this was the first time that the Heir had ever really entered into a discussion with him- actually asked his opinion. "One must speculate to accumulate. It's not enough for a family like that to be influential, they need to ensure that they maintain that power base long-term." Karrde added as a last note, with the barest hint of a pause, "So then may I assume that the D'Arca's aren't the ones with the problem?
Luke ignored the last entirely, forehead creased by a frown as he considered. "If you hear anything else, try to find what the link is between the D'Arca's and myself- the one that they're pushing publically at least."
"Do you want me to put someone on it?"
"No." Luke said slowly, still considering, "Not unless something interesting comes up. Just keep your ear to the ground."
Karrde nodded, taking a sip from the glass; so whatever game the D'Arca's were playing, The Heir wasn't personally involved- as yet. If Karrde believed him that was - which he felt he did in this instance; that had been a rare burst of genuine curiosity he'd just seen. It could have just been an act; Karrde was after all an information broker and The Heir wasn't his only client, but Karrde wasn't foolish enough to actually pass on anything said between himself and his most valued, influential client to a third party without express permission and they both knew it.
He glanced down at the glass in his hand, the taste of the Corellian brandy bringing his thoughts back to the moment; it was intensely smokey, rich and tannin-laced, like a fortified wine, "I really must remember to bring you some Ruusan brandy next time I come."
The Heir leaned back in his seat as it adjusted to conform to his relaxed pose, unoffended despite his next words, "I'm insulted; you spurn my hospitality."
"Not at all; just your brandy." Karrde left a long pause before speaking again, keeping his voice light, not looking to the Heir. "I hear you gave a shipfull of Bothans their freedom?"
The younger man glanced away, his manner instantly changing to dry and disinterested, "I'm a magnanimous man, didn't you know?"
"Actually I did - but you seem to go to such lengths to hide it normally." Karrde replied.
The Heir only smiled tightly, eyes calculating now, casual informality instantly gone. "I'm not trying to alienate the Bothan people. I was closing down a spy ring, nothing more; the fact that the group were all Bothans was incidental. I released the Attin'Cho and its crew to clarify that."
He looked meaningfully to Karrde at the last, and the Smuggler Chief knew that this information was offered with the intention that it be widely disseminated.
"I'm sure they'll be relieved to know." Karrde acknowledged; he didn't mind passing this on to a few choice people; smooth flying for his client meant smooth flying for Karrde- and that was after all, what he had dedicated his life toward.
"I have a job for you." Luke said easily, bringing Karrde's attention to the moment. "I'll need a new code; I know you like a little notice to start working one up."
Karrde frowned, surprised, "You think they've cracked the existing one? Ghent's usually better than..."
"No, they haven't." Luke assured, "But I don't intend to give them the time to try. Habits are dangerous, you know that."
Karrde put the empty glass on the table before him, voice straining as he reached forward, "Then you should definitely stop drinking Corellian brandy."
.
.
.
The comm set into the unit beside Luke's bed sounded very quietly, twice, jolting both Mara and Luke awake, then it cut off, falling silent again. Mara remained still, feeling Luke stir where her arm was draped about him.
When it sounded again he rose quickly from the bed and walked through to the main room without answering it, pulling a gown about himself as the door sliding shut behind him, leaving Mara to frown in the darkness. She glanced over at the chrono; it was still almost two hours before reveille.
Despite the closed door she could hear him slide open a drawer and fumble within for a few moments before he answered the comm, presumably from the comlink set into his desk in the main room, she realised.
"Yes?"
Silence followed, in which Mara realised that the drawer oppening must have been for him to retrieve an earpiece to take the call privately; obviously the on-off-on tone was a signal to do so. The question was, from whom? She frowned in the still silence, holding her breath, listening to the decidedly one-sided conversation;
"Yes... Yes. When?... Hn. No- bring them here... yes."
Silence fell again, and Mara held still, listening for some sound to indicate that he was returning...
The loud bang as he slammed the earpiece forcibly onto the desk made her jump despite herself, then he muttered something under his breath in a language she didn't know- Bocce maybe? It didn't matter; she knew a curse when she heard one.
He didn't return, remaining in the dark of the main room.
Eventually the door entry sounded, and a few moments later she heard him rise and open it. The murmured voices were too quiet to pick out, the conversation too brief to decipher the second party, then the door closed and a few moments later he returned to the bedroom, sliding back into bed and laying on his back with a long, low sigh.
"Problems?" Mara asked, as casually as she could muster.
Considering his normal reticence she didn't expect an answer, though she suspected that often he was guarded just out of habit, with nothing particular to hide.
"Nothing unexpected." he stated mechanically, gaze to the ceiling.
She rested her arm across his chest and felt his muscles tense slightly. When she looked up minutes later, he was still staring into the darkness, a million light-years away.
He shifted around for the next forty-five minutes before finally rising, more resigned to the fact that he wasn't able to sleep than because he wished to get up, Mara knew, but he pulled on a pair of sleeping trousers and disappear into the main room without a word.
She waited for a while, but when he didn't return and she heard no further noise, Mara eventually rose and dressed, padding quietly about the room; she needed to be up and away a good hour before reveille anyway, whilst the guards were still sluggish and before the shift change put more people into the corridors.
When she finally slid the door open, fastening her gunbelt as she did so, he was still sat in the dark in the heavy hide-covered chair before the viewpane, gazing out into space, elbows resting on the arms, fingers steepled before his mouth.