Star Wars_ Children of the Jedi - Barbara Hambly [149]
She recognized a good two thirds of the people present.
Some of them had aged in the eleven years since she’d seen them at the Emperor’s Court. Others—like the representatives of the Mekuun Corporation and the president of the board of directors of Seinar—were of more recent acquaintance. Lady Theala Vandron, acknowledged superior among the Senex Lords by virtue of heading the oldest and noblest of the Ancient Houses, had visited the Senate quite recently, to answer charges of inhumanity and planet-stripping brought against her by the High Court: She’d seemed surprised that anyone had considered it his business if she let slavers run breeding farms on her homeworld of Karfeddion.
“Your Highness, they’re only Ossan and Bilanaka,” she’d said, naming those two sentient but low-cultured races as if that placed the matter beyond need of further explanation.
A heavyset, stately woman in her forties with a blandly superior stubbornness in her blue eyes, she was further expressing her views on the matter to a small group comprised of Roganda, Irek, and Garonnin. “It’s simply useless to discuss these matters with people in the Senate who refuse to understand local economic conditions.”
A little R-10 unit rolled up to the group with a tray of glasses, and Roganda said, “You must sample the wine, Your Highness. Celanon Semi-Dry, an exquisite vintage.”
“Ah.” Vandron tasted a minute quantity. “Very nice.” Leia heard in her mind Aunt Rouge: Only spaceport types go in for the Semi-Dries, my dear. You really must cultivate a more refined taste. Every word of it was compacted into the slight lowering of the painted eyelids and the fractional deepening of the lines around Lady Vandron’s mouth.
“An Algarine, perhaps?” inquired Garonnin. Algarine wines had been her father’s favorite vintage, Leia recalled.
“Of course.” Roganda addressed the R-10. “Decant the Algarine from the cellars; chill to fifty degrees and the glass to forty.”
The cellarer droid rolled quickly away.
“It isn’t as if we were kidnapping people from their homes,” Lady Vandron went on indignantly. “These creatures are specifically bred for agricultural work. If it weren’t for our farming they wouldn’t be born at all, you know. And Karfeddion is in the midst of severe economic depression.”
“Not that they care, on Coruscant.” Lord Garonnin set his own glass down on the sideboard of marble and bronze, Atravian of the best period, one of the few pieces of furniture in the long, stone-floored room.
“Which is why, Your Highness,” said Roganda in her low, sweet voice, “we must deal with both the warlords and the Senate from a position of strength, rather than one of the hat-in-hand subservience they seem to expect. We will be … a power to reckon with.” She laid her hand on her son’s shoulder, her red lips curving in a proud smile, and Irek modestly cast down his eyes.
Close to the buffet, which was laden with a collection of confections and savories clearly put together by a droid of some kind, a bioassisted Sullustan executive asked Drost Elegin, “Doesn’t look much like the Emperor, does he?” in the softest of undervoices. The Sullustan glanced across the room at Irek and his mother, both conservatively clad, he in black, she in white; Irek had gone to speak to one of the Juvex Lords whom Leia recognized dimly as the head of the more militant branch of the House Sreethyn. It was clear the boy had a great deal of charm.
Elegin shrugged. “What does it matter? If he can do what she says he can do …” He nodded in Roganda’s direction.
She was still working hard on getting Lady Vandron to unbend. Leia could have told her she might as well have tried to stuff a full-grown Hutt into her pocket. Ladies of the great Houses do not unbend to women who have been concubines, no matter whose, and no matter what their sons can do.
“Well,” said the Sullustan doubtfully, and adjusted the gain on the eyepieces he wore. “If the great Houses back him …”
Elegin made a gesture with his eyebrows, dismissing—or almost dismissing—the dark-haired boy. “At