[Some time after his rendezvous with a mandalorian and more]
[Senate District, Coruscant] Kenas peered at the tightly packed rooftops, slick with rain. From the shrouded horizon thunder boomed. It was much further now, the storm definitely leaving them. Kenas sat in the back of the taxi. He relaxed against the soft cushion. His legs were crossed and his umbrella was secured across his lap.
The rain peppered the window. It held his gaze. He wore a raincoat and hat , both painted a lush red by the skylane control light. When it changed, Kenas to blinked, submitting to the green now washed over them. It was brief.
The cab dove beneath the skylane. The driver managed to out run three speeders before banking hard to port, joining another formation. Kenas leaned on the door while the inertial compensator dulled the flight despite fussy haired Cerean's most spirited efforts. The sharp didn't bother him, but the shaking and the tight twists was too much for him. Kenas was certain they had barrel rolled on two separate occasions, though he missed the first time.
"Nearly, there! Nearly, there!" the cab driver cheered. Kenas ignored the driver. He peered into the rain; his eyes dark, lost in thought. Questions and concerns battered him like his window. He felt the icy breath of fear crawl at him. It took all his effort to fight back the paranoia. Maybe a Jedi was in today? Alies or KyNomi.
This was uncomfortable. Another method was required. Kenas took a deep breath and concluded one of his thoughts.
He was nervous.
Today, he would speak to the Senate. Oh mumbled at them incoherently. It had a long time since Kenas was on the radar. He didn't like too many eyes on him. Secrecy and discretion were keys for survival. After such a time in utter solitude, the Force had reached out to him. The Invisible Hand of Fate toyed with his path beyond his control. It was better to hide, leave the universe undisturbed. Otherwise his enemies would find him. Those real and imaginary.
The Cerean changed lanes rapidly, never lingering or slowing to give anyone the impression that he might yield to them. Kenas glanced from the window to the back of his driver's elongated head. Anticipation quivered from the seats out front, hand in hand with utter delight. Kenas yawned, reacting to the constant change in pressure within the vehicle.
Maybe the Cerean misread this. Kenas didn't know. The driver sighed and the glee utterly diffused from the interior. The cab veered towards one of the Rotunda's empty platforms, slowed, and pulled in for dropoff. Kenas glanced outside. He clung to his umbrella. The closest cover from the rain was a good twenty meters from where they parked. He stared for two seconds into the rain and then reached into his raincoat. The Cerean spun about, guessing on how best to stretch the short corded thumb print analyzer to Kenas without Kenas's assistance.
He wasn't content to just sit. Kenas produced the fare, a couple dozen credits and seventy credits tip. The Cerean hesitated for less than a second and took the money. Kenas stepped out of the cab, opened his umbrella and closed the door. The cab immediately pulled away.
He was alone on the far protruding platform. A fear about following trouble him briefly, but he didn't worry about the little things. The drop was miles down, shrouded in gray mist. He walked briskly through rain, scaling the twenty meters in less than seven seconds and reaching the utility door before he reached ten. He shook water from the umbrella and searched for the turbolift.
Light flashed through the teal hued glass, followed by a quick howl of thunder. The turbolift was already headed to his level. Fortunate. He rode the lift to the main lobby of the Galactic Senate. The first thing he did was gaze at the tall ceiling, admiring their still sky yet distrusting it. Maybe the rains would come still. Kenas didn't recognize the faces around him, half expecting to see cafes and public intellectuals littered about. There were instead crowds and crowds of people. Business suits, casual wear, robes, and raincoats. From a desk at the center of the room, Kenas noted someone was watching him. A rodian woman sat behind the desk. She directed traffic for the visitors and had her sights on him since he moved away from the lifts.
His passage through the lobby to the offices lifts was unswerving. He melted into the first crowd over a dozen that huddled for his lift. They crammed into the small space, Kenas maneuvered for the spot just left of the door. They spotted at his floor fifth, the lift seemed to be to capacity for the duration. Security officers were just ahead, four. These were there first uniformed security Kenas had seen. He had a hunch there were at least seven NRI operatives just moping about in the lobby. These security officers watched him as he neared.
Beyond this check point was the offices of Dantooine's senator. One step at a time. They asked for his ID, whether he was armed, took his S-5 heavy blaster and McNab dagger, and then confirmed his identification and pinned a visitor's badge to the breast of his charcoal raincoat.
He probably could have kept his weapons with Cambrist if he had gone to Brentaal's offices instead. The thought had crossed his mind to get permission from the busy man. Things were more fun this way. During the unveiling of the Academy, Kenas was sure he remembered the senator from Dantooine offering to vouch for him. Maybe the offer still stood. Kenas didn't worry about the little things.
The offices were bubbling with activity. There was chance Senator Ray was far to busy to see him. It could have wasted a trip. Kenas welcomed his apathy, content that whatever happens, happens.
"Could I take your name and any relevant titles, please?"
"Yes, Kenas Annig, headmaster of the Brentaal Academy. I'm afraid I don't have an appointment." He checked his chronometer and watched the secretary.
"Mhm. Well..." she began.