Coruscant Meeting

From TFC Galactopedia

This follows a day or two after Zannah resigns from the academy on Coruscant.

The doorchime sounded at Zannah's touch. She took a deep breath and straightened her blue shipsuit with her good hand. It felt odd to be in civilian clothes again after three years of uniforms.

"Yes?" The voice that came over the speaker carried more than its share of impatience and boredom.

"I'm here to see Lady Asria," Zannah told it.

"The Lady," the voice returned, "is with guests. Have you an appointment?"

"No, but I-."

"Lady Fallon-Touras sees no one without a prior appointment." Scorn filled the servant's voice. "Good day to you."

"Fskanu!" Zannah snarled in low lemran before the connection could break, eliciting a startled gasp from the listener. She threw a measure of royal indignation into her own voice. "I don't care if she's meeting with the Queen of Hapes herself. You go in there and tell her that her granddaughter is here."

"Her-," a gulp cut off whatever the servant had been about to say, and after a moment the ornately decorated door opened for Zannah. Revealed in the doorway was a chubby peach-furred female lemorian, her face glowing beet red through her fur. Faded amber blonde hair was twisted into an elaborate knot between her ears. "Apologies, Milady," she mumbled, downcast eyes flicking up and the red in her face deepening as recognition took hold. "I didn't realize…"

"Next time," Zannah told her sourly, "check your screen before you turn away guests." She drew herself up to her full height and crossed her good arm over her sling bound arm. "Now then. I'd like to see my grandam alone. She is already with guests, you said?" The servant nodded mutely. Zannah sighed. "I'll wait, then. I trust you can handle the task of informing Lady Asria of my presence after her current visitors take their leave?" The acid comment made the other female's ears sink lower.

"Yes, Milady," the woman murmured. Wordless with embarrassment, she led the way to a small parlor.

Zannah settled herself in a plush bowl-shaped chair after the servant left her alone. Though she was not inclined to wait, protocol dictated that she could not throw out her grandam's guests. That would be impolite. Instead, she let the room's lush comforts seduce her while she waited. Three years of cadet life, with its few amenities, had taken more of a toll than she had believed. The parlor was small by lemorian homeworld standards, but at least three times the space of the room she had shared with a bunkmate as a cadet. The furniture was all rich fabrics and polished wood, warm and welcoming in the late afternoon light of Coruscant's sun. Sunbeams slanted through tall, narrow keyhole shaped windows, which marched around the room's gentle outer curve. The walls were painted in warm earth tones and hung with tapestries her grandam had brought with her from lemoria. The room practically dripped with the sort of understated elegance Zannah remembered growing up with. Slowly she felt some of the tension she had carried in her muscles begin to unwind in the familiar setting. The only sound was the soft hush of the ventilation system. It was hard to keep her guard up.

"Lady?" The voice was soft, as if barely daring to intrude.

Zannah woke with a sharp gasp, reddening beneath her fur as she realized she had fallen asleep in the comfortable chair. The angle of the sun had not changed by much, so she deduced that she had only been out for a few minutes at most. "Yes, what is it?" she asked, composing herself as she shifted position in the chair.

It was a different servant this time, a younger female with creamy rosettes marking her rust red fur. She bobbed a short curtsey in Zannah's direction, curly brown hair bouncing around her shoulders at the movement. "Lady Asria's guests are taking their leave, kir Lyles." She used the lemorian honorific rather than the Basic word. "Shall I escort you to her?"

"Please." Zannah stood, taking the time to give herself a good stretch, and then followed the girl from the room.

Her grandam's sitting room was large and airy, a magnificent waste of space on a world as crowded as Coruscant. It was decorated much the same way the small parlor had been, and most of the furnishings and wall hangings were lemorian in origin. Grandam Asria was nearly swallowed up by the plush divan she was seated on. The aging matron had seen fit to dress herself in a pale yellow undertunic, bright green bloomers, and an orange and blue polka-dotted housecoat. What could only be a saucepan lid liberated from the apartment's kitchen facilities sat on her white streaked black hair at a rakish angle.

"Candas!" she cried, pushing herself up and throwing her arms out. "You've come to visit me."

"No, Grandam." Zannah tentatively accepted the hug, being especially careful of her still injured right arm. She wondered when and how her grandmother had become so small and fragile. "Not Candas. Her daughter, Roxzannah, remember?"

"Pah." Lady Asria stepped back and looked Zannah up and down. "You don't fool me. Think I don't know my own daughter? Little Roxzannah's no higher than my knee."

"That was sixteen years ago, Grandam," Zannah told her gently. She did not remember much of that visit, but she had a good idea of how old she had been the last time her grandmother had seen her.

"Was it? Oh my." Asria pulled off her impromptu hat and fanned herself with it. "Time's getting away from me again." For the first time, she seemed to really see Zannah. "Lady's Sake, child, what happened to you?"

"I had a disagreement with someone," Zannah hedged. "It didn't go well for either of us."

"I should say not." Lady Asria pulled her granddaughter over to one of the room's couches and indicated that they both sit. "How awful! Do you need medical treatment? Shall I fetch my blaster and go after the ruffian who mistreated my granddaughter?" she demanded.

Zannah blinked. "You have a blaster?"

Lady Asria continued as though she had not heard. "Khetia," she called, "bring us the chk'tah I ordered earlier. We'll have it here."

The young servant who had led Zannah to the room stepped forward. "You had chk'tah with your other guests, Marm," she told the elder lemorian gently.

"I did?" Lady Asria looked confused.

"You did."

"Oh." The older lemorian paused, huffed, and waved the servant away. "Bring whatever's appropriate then. I can't be bothered to think of everything myself."

"Yes, Marm." The girl ducked her head, hiding a smile, Zannah suspected, and slipped from the room.

"Now then, what were we talking about?" Lady Asria asked a throw pillow.

"I'm over here, Grandam," Zannah told her.

"Of course you are, dear." She smoothed her brightly colored bloomers. "It was so nice of you to come and visit me. I don't get many visitors, and twice in one day at that! You should have met my earlier guests. Such nice girls." Asria frowned faintly. "Did you say why you'd come to visit? So many things seem to slip by me these days."

"No Grandam." Zannah smiled. "I didn't say. I wanted to come and see you before I leave for home. I should have taken more time to visit while I was here, but… Oh well. All that's past."

"Well it's very nice to see you, dear," Lady Asria told her. "Have you made your travel arrangements yet?"

Zannah nodded. "The academy's providing me with passage on a liner that's heading down the Corellian Run in a few days. That will get me as far as Druckenwell, and I'm sure I can find a shuttle or merchant heading for Lemoria from there without much trouble."

"My granddaughter crowded into steerage on some space forsaken passenger liner?" Asria gasped. "I won't stand for it! You'll take my personal yacht."

"But Grandam, I-."

"I'll hear no refusals, child," Asria told her sternly, then clapped her hands in delight as the servant, Khetia, returned with a tray of delicacies, which she set on the low table before them.

Zannah sighed, shaking her head. Though her grandmother had not been a large part of her life growing up, she was quite familiar with that tone of voice, and it brooked no argument. As she picked up a treat she had not tasted in the three years since she left her homeworld for Coruscant, Zannah considered that giving in to Lady Asria this once was an acceptable compromise. As worn out and drained as she felt, the chance to rest on the trip home looked far more appealing than being jostled and squeezed into a tiny hold with hundreds of other beings. She popped the morsel into her mouth and enjoyed the familiar rush of flavor. "Alright, Grandam," she murmured around her mouthful. "Whatever you say.