"Let's make a deal."
Two hours later, Cyran was sitting at a considerably larger table.
The secured council room beneath the administrative wing had no windows, only dark stone walls broken by narrow bands of gold ether-light and a single reinforced door guarded from the outside. Someone had brought coffee at some point, though only Cassian had touched his.
Arik sat opposite Cyran with one arm resting along the chair, dressed much as he had been during the candidate meeting earlier that day, except his jacket was gone and the sleeves of his black shirt had been folded to his forearms.
Mezos occupied the chair to his right.
Whatever humanity Cyran had occasionally seen in the chief of security remained absent.
Cassian sat beside Arik, apparently far more interested in the situation than a man claiming retirement had any right to be.
Cyran looked between them.
"The support behind my campaign is considerably larger than I expected."
Arik's expression did not change.
