Ambassador

Chapter 22: In the Red

Exhausted but fully dressed for the trying day ahead in an opalescent gown with glimmering shoulders, Alanja stared into her cup of opaque, crimson tea and took a bite of toast. The dress had been a gift from Orn Free Taa. Wearing it was expected to show solidarity with the injured senator. But like so much of this trip to Ryloth, it made her food taste like ash in her mouth.

Alanja brushed her long, come-follow-me curls over her right side as she tilted her ear to listen. In the adjoining sitting room, Alanja could see the shadow of Commander Crosshair darkening Rov's office through the archway. The two were discussing more of their plan and laying out the safest path to precede down.

Shifting in her chair with a huff, she hoped they would come in to see her beauty, unmarred by the stresses of their scheming. Let them drink in their prize. After all, they had used Taa's advances as an excuse to move forward with their dangerous plans for Ryloth. This place was like kindling dowsed with rhydonium. Violence could explode instantly, killing them all.

"I agree," said Rov, his deep voice a mask for his concern. Was that regret that Alanja heard? Knowing him, the answer was likely no. Rov was a master of feigned concern. However, when he added, "Alanja should not come out on the balcony with me this morning," she knew he was feeling the weight of the danger he had created.

Crosshair added, "I will position out in front of the crowd with my squad as over-watch." The sound of his voice now made her cringe. She hated how vulnerable that man made her feel. She was almost as scared of losing Crosshair as she was to lose Rov.

Rising, Alanja brushed the crumbs off her toast from her lap and sauntered into Rov's office, her steaming cup of red tea in hand. Alanja snorted bitterly. "I guess the dress was not everything you hoped it would be." She took a sip of her tea. "It would be a shame to see it stained with blood."

Rov scowled, but Crosshair gave her no acknowledgment. Regret nipped at her as she watched the commander. How much time did she have left with either of them before they got themselves in too deep? Last night, waiting up for them to return from their dangerous coup, Alanja wished she had never left the hunting lodge on Naboo. At least then, she would have been none the wiser when Rov was killed, and she would never have met Crosshair. Unlike them, Alanja cared if they got themselves killed.

Looking him up and down to see if she even could get him to glance her way, Crosshair was pensive under her scrutiny as he pointed with his toothpick at the positions he planned to put his squad. Could he feel her bitterness? Did he know that she cared? Did he care?

Pretending to burn her mouth on her tea, Alanja gasped and let the red liquid splash down the front of the Rythlothian gown. "Oh no," she said.

Crosshair's dark eyes shot up at her then. He sneered and put his toothpick in his mouth. Alanja ran her left hand over the spilled tea, the scope ring on her middle finger glinting. He seethed at her show.

"Alanja," Rov said her name to admonish.

Alanja glided to Rov's side, leaning on his shoulder, wetting his arm with red while setting her empty up on the desk beside his hand. "Admiral Rampart, may I go see the troopers that were injured? I would like to thank them for their service." She ran crimson fingers down onto his to emphasize that their blood was on his hands and that hers could be next.

That did it. Crosshair's nose flared, and his gaze bored into her with contempt. Alanja straightened, glaring back, daring him to say something. 'You should have called me back, friend,' she thought bitterly. 'You just let me walk away from you earlier. What did you expect? That I wouldn't be angry still? Ha. Laughable.'