The Telosian cleared his throat before speaking, "If you're referring to Palpating being the Dark Lord of the Sith and that he orchestrated the "Jedi coup," I already knew. So...Hajo, is it? How do I know if you aren't an Imperial spy meant to lure the rebels out? You should be careful when you mention General Kenobi, Darth Vader wouldn't take kindly to it." Tremaine went ahead and sit straight up, "You know, you shouldn't judge the book by its cover. Appearances can be deceiving."

Once the speeder pulled over to the nearby restaurant, "Once you've reached whatever destination you're hiding your plans on, use the credits to hire someone to bring you to the base of operations on Molavar. Here's the clearance codes." He spoke in a firm tone, as he typed in the codes on a datapad and when finished with typing, he handed it over to the former spy. "Good luck, Agent Katarn."

He would find, upon reaching his floor and opening the door to his suite that it was already unlocked. The lights inside were on, too. The first thing he would see upon stepping into his foyer would be Rainier Brandt's smiling face. It was his smile that discomfited so many about Brandt—whether he was listening to an amusing anecdote or item of gossip or, rather, listening to the blood-choked pleas for mercy of a rebel who somehow survived a firing squad, he would smile that same, friendly smile. He could smile at you as he said "Hello, Tremaine," and he could just as easily smile at you as he said "You're under arrest."

For now, it was the former, not the latter.

"How are you?" he added, cordially, "I've not seen you since the party." He was standing beside the Senator's liquor cabinet, preparing himself a drink. He had the good manners to offer some of Tremaine's own liquor to him too, of course. "You would like a drink, I should think," he said to him, "You've had a busy day." The sentence lingered in the silence of the suite for a moment until the Moff added, "What would you prefer?" he gestured to the assorted bottles, most of them seeming to be Telosian blends. It wasn't surprising, really—Brandt knew the sort of drinks that the Senator liked. Indeed, he knew everything about the Senator, or tried to, at least. That's why he was here tonight.

When Brandt had first helped himself into the Senator's suite, he hadn't been alone. One of the Senator's aides—named John, if he remembered correctly—had been preparing the holonet for a message to Telos IV, or some such. Brandt had told him to leave, and he did. On this occasion, for an issue as delicate as this, the Moff expected a certain amount of privacy. Ironic, really; privacy was something that few people had on Imperial Center under Brandt's rule. Privacy and property, as his imperious use of the Senator's liquor cabinet made abundantly clear (if his eviction of aliens all over the planet and seizure of their property didn't make it clear already).

His Excellency, Rainier Brandt
Moff of the Imperial Sector (i.e. Coruscant, et. al.)

The trio entered the lift, and pressed the button that would lead them to the floor of his residence on the so-called Imperial Center. On the way up, he couldn't help but wonder if there would be assigned stormtroopers on his floor. He'd make a mental note of telling Ilanah about this, due to the fact that he doesn't want to put her in danger. After reaching the floor, the lift opened for the trio to get out. Tremaine went over to the door that would allow him access to his very own apartment, taking out the keycard. When his right hand reached for the handle, it was loose. The Senator raised his eyebrows, and looked at his bodyguards. The door were unlocked, thus it was possible that someone broke into the place.

He decided to step back, allowing his bodyguards to go inside first. Armed with GLX Firelance blaster rifles, the men barged in. The men pointed the rifles toward the man in a Moff uniform, as Tremaine walked into the place and were behind the bodyguards. At the same time Tremaine had recognized the man, his men lowered their weapons. It was Moff Brandt, the man that runs Coruscant. That smile had the Telosian's awareness heigntened up, but he did not change his posture as well. Tremaine was a soldier of the Clone Wars, and had seen many terrible things. He had grown accustomed to facing Fear.

"How nice of you to drop by, Moff Brandt. I see you know the way to my place." The Senator had pondered about Brandt's smile for a moment, wondering whether the Imperial has something in store for Tremaine. He had set that aside rather quickly, and began speaking in a firm tone. "Aside from recurring headaches as a result of squabbling politicians and a pile of paperwork, I'm fine." The Telosian decided to walk over, so he could stand about five feet away and in front of the Moff. The Imperial could see that Tremaine was no ordinary politician. Then again, the man probably knew that. It had occured to the Senator that if the Moff of Coruscant knew where his liquor cabinet was at, then it's possible the Moff had known that Tremaine was a veteran of the Clone Wars. Soldiers were the brave types, and doesn't have a tendency to be easily scared. "As you may see, I've been busy with all that Senatorial duties."

The Telosian would shook his head once and lightly, waving his hand off gently. "No, thank you. I'm not in the mood for drinking. Thanks for the offer, though." The Senator was pretty sure the Moff wasn't offering him to take the drinks. He was pretty sure that the Moff implied that it wasn't an offer and more of an order. It was nothing mischievous, but the facial expression on Tremaine's face was a clear indication of dislike toward Brandt entering his place without permission and that he took Tremaine's liquor. The Senator knew very well he could get shot for this, but he didn't care. The man strongly believed in privacy. He decided to take the direct approach, "What do you want?"

He shrugged and took a deliberate sip of his drink, then cradled the glass in his hand as he rested it on the armrest, and crossed one leg over the other. "It's not so much a question of what I want, Senator," he said to Tremaine, "As something of a friend, I'm simply concerned for you. I'm told that you've been putting in quite a lot of hours, and with all of this security around you I wondered if something was wrong?" He raised his drink as though to have another sip, then paused as he went on musing, "To be honest, my suspicion is that someone is extorting you—considering its been reported to me that you've made rather large withdrawals from your bank account over the last month." His point made, he indulged in a sip of his drink. He sighed as he glanced about the room, then back to Tremaine or, more specifically, Tremaine's suit. "I mean no offense to your taste in home decor, or in your, um, attire, but it seems this is a lot of money that you've not spent on anything. That we know of, that is."

His Excellency, Rainier Brandt
Moff of the Imperial Sector (i.e. Coruscant, et. al.)

The Telosian would order the guards to back off, but to stay inside the apartment for security reasons. He would refocus on Moff Brandt, which probably is about to make this evening interesting. He chuckled lightly, the truth had finally came out of Brandt's mouth. Tremaine had a feeling that Brandt's concerns toward the Senator were false. That Brandt were more likely trying to look for an excuse to arrest him, and he wasn't going to allow that to happen. However, Tremaine wasn't going to try and blast his way out. At least not yet, not with the stormtroopers stationed on the first floor. The most suitable way to get out of this is to talk his way out of this. Clearly, Tremaine wasn't much of an orator. A trait common among the politicians. The Clone Wars had changed Tremaine, and he learned a lot from it. He was no ordinary politician, he was a soldier.

Sometimes, direct approach is the best way to solutions. "Like I said, security has increased for me due to the recent bombing. As of the large withdrawals coming from my accounts, if you knew everything about me, then you would be aware that I had recently established a gas mining company. That's where the money were going to." The Telosian took a moment of silence to shook his head lightly at Brandt before speaking up once again, "And that was an offense. I haven't had a chance to spend on something shiny because the money were going to that company. Besides, I don't need something fancy to be a politician. The important thing is, I'm doing my job as a Senator."

Tremaine proceeded to go over and sit down on the couch, but sitting straight up to indicate that he was serious. "I hate to disappoint you, but I don't think you're gonna arrest me for establishing a mining company. If you're looking for an excuse to arrest me, this ain't it."

"But enough of this dreary talk," he said cordially, glancing back to Tremaine with his usual aplomb. "Honestly, Tremaine, I wish you wouldn't be quite so silly. I haven't come here to arrest you," he said, as though it were, indeed, the silliest thing he'd ever heard. Of course, he didn't think Tremaine was being extorted for the simple fact that if anyone had incriminating information with which to blackmail the Senator, it would be Brandt. No, he suspected that Tremaine was up to something, but he had only half-suspected it was something treasonous. More likely, he thought, the Senator was simply corrupt, or he had a weakness for gambling, prostitution, or drugs. Needless to say, this wasn't something that Brandt would arrest him for. He did have standards, after all.

"In any case, I thank you for that explanation," Brandt said, shrugging as he raised his glass to his mouth once more, but pausing there as he added mischievously, "I'm sure the financial statements and tax returns for your company will corroborate this in a few months' time." He finished his drink, and sighed contentedly upon savoring its flavor and swallowing the last of it down. He stood, set the empty glass on Tremaine's coffee table, and tugged the creases out of his uniform. "By the way," he asked, raising an eyebrow to the Senator as he stepped daintily around the table in the direction of the door, "Are there any shares in your company available? I'd be happy to spread the word among the business community here on Imperial Center and steer some investors in your direction. It saddens me that you have to spend your own credits on it."

His Excellency, Rainier Brandt
Moff of the Imperial Sector (i.e. Coruscant, et. al.)