"That's an awful lot to squeeze into one dance." Luke said with dry humour, finally coming round a little. "Maybe we could just hand out cards?"
Reece raised his eyebrows slightly in sardonic reply, following Luke as he set out from his study into the lofty hallway beyond, aware from his tone that The Heir was willing to concede this fight even if he wasn't ready to admit it out loud.
It was one of the reasons why Wez had defected; unlike Palpatine, The Heir was willing to listen to reason. In fact, Reece genuinely believed him to be all of the things he'd just cited as requirements for the Empire's next leader- and he'd made it his mission to make others realize that too.
He brought his attention back to the Heir now as Luke offered in a mock-conciliatory tone, "We could put gold edges on the cards if it makes you feel any better."
"Gold edges are for invitations, Sir." Wez said in feigned seriousness on his charge's gibe at his familiarity with this kind of convention, "Statements of intent are always sent on woven white ground with grey edging."
.
.
.
The State Ballroom was immense, it and its grand entrance, the Mirrored Gallery, occupying a complete floor of the East Tower. Soaring over five storeys in high, above its intricately-inset polished marquentry floors, hundreds of rock-crystal globes illuminated a reeded and coffered ceiling, their faceted surfaces bouncing refracted light over gilded detail. Lofty windows set with faceted panes ranged the run of one wall, giving vague, mirror-image views of the other towers, the photovoltaic glass darkened against the low-lying sun of the early evening, the low amber light making the wood of richly-carved relief on hundreds of separate panels lining the remaining walls glow softly, each panel carved from a particular planet's most valued hardwoods, depicting an elaborate dado-to-ceiling-level representation of that for which the individual planet was famed.
The sumptuous décor and furnishings were purposely ostentatious, the room a monumental, lavishly extravagant statement of Imperial power and wealth. The State Ballroom - a mirror-image of its sister the Dominion Ballroom in the North Tower but almost three times its size - had been chosen with great deliberation; there were twenty-seven different civic ballrooms in the Palace towers, discounting those in individual apartments, each carefully designed to project a different facet of the Empire's influence.
This hall with its exceptional craftsmanship and incalculable affluence, art new and ancient from throughout the Empire adorning it, was an imposing expression of confidence and continuity, solidarity and perpetuity. It was an impressive testament to the incomparable wealth of the Empire - and the willingness of Palpatine to spend it without hesitation.
.
Mara entered quietly, avoiding the Master of Ceremonies announcing those who entered at the tall double doors and stepping quickly down the wide expanse of carved steps, the train of her dark, chocolate brown dress pooling behind her as she set forward to lose herself in the throng, glancing about the multitude of people, looking for only one.
She had expected to be on duty tonight serving as Luke's bodyguard, as she so often did at such functions, but Palpatine he had ordered that Reece and not she should attend with no further explanation. At first she'd felt snubbed, uncertain what was going on but certain that something was. Then she'd taken it as a challenge, confident of her ability to gain entry- it wasn't as if she'd been directed not to attend. So she'd taken the time to make an effort tonight; she used to do this so much when on assignments; turned heads with her casual grace- sometimes the best place to hide was in full view.
The gown she wore was rich, matt chocolate vinesilk, cut on the bias so that it skimmed every contour, the front shaped low in a fluid crumple of fabric which always hinted that it may just fall loose without ever being so gauche as to do so. Her jewellery was heavy amber and citrine set in rose gold, a fine, fretwork headdress set with the same stones pinning her hair back from her face to tumble loosely down her back, rich red against dark chocolate. The heavy stones in her earrings tapped gently against her neck as she glanced about, the citrines reflecting warm glints against flawless porcelain skin, her delicate blush all the color needed to set forest green eyes flashing.
She still turned heads when she walked through the crowd.
Luke stood unobtrusively off to one side of the vast hall, turning immediately when he sensed her presence, watching her walk quickly down the steps, eyes scanning the room.
His first thought was that she looked beautiful; she always looked that to him- always had- but tonight she was stunning; exquisite. His second consideration, as she vanished into the crowd, was surprise that she was here at all; he'd allowed her to be subtly excluded from coming, taking the convenient opportunity to hide his own intentions behind Palpatine's manipulations tonight, accepting without complaint the Emperor deliberately naming Reece as his bodyguard so that Mara had no excuse for being here- and had thought she'd taken the hint.
.
The automemo excluding Mara had been delivered from Palpatine's personal offices three days ago and had been brought to Luke's attention by Wez Reece, eliciting only the mildest curiosity from Luke as he handed it over.
"You have a mark at the reception following the launch of the Invincible, Sir."
Luke took the proffered automemo with only vague inerest, glancing down at the screen, "For?"
It wasn't uncommon for the Emperor to do this, using state functions to place his Jedi close to someone from whom he needed information in one form or another. Easier able to stay out of the spotlight and less intimidating than his Master, Luke could often accomplish Palpatine's intent more subtly, so to have a covert assignment was par for the course.
Still, Luke frowned at the image of his mark, "This is... D'Arca?"
"Kiria D'Arca; eldest daughter of Beladon and heir to the D'Arca family. Her father will be Master of Ceremonies at the Invincible's launch."
"What does he want me to do?"
Reece raised his eyebrows; "Talk to her."
"For?"
"That's all that's listed in the brief." Reece said. "The Emperor requires you to... 'Make contact and establish a dialogue'."
"Establish a dialogue - now what's he up to?" Luke murmured, ever wary, "Why do I feel I'm being stage-managed?"
"Because you are." Reece said dryly, "Though there may be reasons other than the obvious; and even if that's the case they're not such a bad idea- the D'Arca's are a powerful family who hold sway among both the military and the Royal Houses. You could do worse than court them a little, with or without the Emperor's blessing."
"And who will you be 'courting' to further the cause?" Luke asked pointedly.
"That isn't my forte, Sir." Reece said levelly, eliciting a short laugh from Luke.
"Believe me, it isn't mine- and don't say this is a good opportunity to learn."
Wez held his eye for a moment then turned away. "It's a least bought us something; I'm ordered to stand as your bodyguard, which means that Mara Jade won't be in attendance."
Which was a useful thing indeed, considering Luke's self-imposed mission for the evening, planned with his father. He turned away, all business again.
"Send an acknowledgment and get more information on D'Arca. We'll work it into the timetable but we need one of our own people to mark her; run interference and separate us when I have the opportunity to make a contact with someone useful. I'll speak to her just once or twice- I've more important things to do."
He handed back the autoreader, aware that yet another level of play would have to be factored into the evening. "Get me something on D'Arca; anything to satisfy that I've taken an interest with minimum effort. I don't have time to be wasting this."