Star Wars_Thrawn

by Timothy Zahn

  “Your Excellency,” she said, stepping away from the door and walking toward him. “Nice to see you, as well. You really should have taken me into your confidence back in the Alisandre Hotel.”

  Ghadi’s confident smile slipped a bit. “Oh?”

  “Absolutely,” Arihnda assured him. “If you had, I could have told you that I was just as eager to take down Senator Renking as you were.”

  “Really,” Ghadi said, eyeing her closely. “Your own boss?”

  “The man who engineered the Imperial takeover of my family’s mining business on Lothal,” she corrected. “I just would have preferred to destroy him without messing up my own life in the process.” She stopped beside the guest chair in front of his desk. “May I?”

  “By all means,” Ghadi said, waving her to the chair. His smile, she noted, was back to full confidence. “I would argue from results that the upheaval in your life was the best thing that could have happened to you. Your poise and confidence alone show you’ve come a long way.”

  “And I probably would have come still further if I hadn’t had to start over at the bottom,” Arihnda said. She glanced around as she sat down, noting that Ottlis had taken up position in the center of the doorway behind her as if expecting to thwart an escape attempt. The fact that she hadn’t even tried to run seemed to have confused him. “But that’s water under the bridge,” she added, turning back to Ghadi. “So. To what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation?”

  “First poise, and now directness,” Ghadi said approvingly. “Excellent. Let’s see if we can add honesty to the list. Who do you work for?”

  “I’m sure you already know. The Higher Skies Advocacy Group.”

  “Good,” Ghadi said. “Let’s continue. Who hired your advocacy group to destroy me?”

  Arihnda frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “No, no, the useless naïve-child approach won’t work anymore,” Ghadi said. “Not for you.”

  “I’m not naïve, and I’m not a child,” Arihnda said as calmly as she could. “I’m just confused, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Really,” Ghadi growled. “You have no idea that very soon after one of your people came to talk to me some of my confidential financial information was recovered from a smuggler gang? Or that one of my mines was hit by raiders barely a week later?”

  “What was stolen?” Arihnda asked.

  Ghadi frowned. “What?”

  “I asked what was stolen,” Arihnda repeated. “Maybe whoever took your data is only interested in your mines or other resources.”

  Ghadi gave a snort. “Don’t insult my intelligence,” he bit out. “No one robs a moff. Not if they want to continue breathing. These are either the preliminary pinpricks leading to an attack, or else a diversion. Either way I want to know who’s behind it.” His eyes narrowed. “Is it Renking?”

  “Your Excellency—”

  “He’s the obvious one,” Ghadi went on. “But subtlety has never been his strong point. A different senator? They’re forever jockeying for position and advantage. Or maybe a moff?” He barked a cynical laugh. “Of course. It’s Tarkin, isn’t it? Grand Moff Tarkin, for whom nothing is ever quite enough. He’s wanted me gone for years. Tell me it’s him.”

  Arihnda shook her head. “I’m sorry, Your Excellency, but I can’t help you.”

  Ghadi leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on her face. “Fine. You don’t know. Maybe your boss does. Let’s call and tell him you’ve been invited to my office, just as Ottlis set it up. Let’s see if he makes any interesting suggestions as to what you should do once you’re here.”

  Arihnda thought about it. Driller seemed way too cheerful and open to be a spy.

  But there was the sketchiness about who else was working for him and what they were doing. There was his seemingly never-ending stack of credits.

  And maybe the best spies were the ones who didn’t look the part.

  “All right,” she said, pulling out her comm. “I presume you want to listen in?”

  “Of course.” Ghadi beckoned Ottlis over from the door. “Just in case you’re planning to try something,” he added.

  “All I’m planning is a conversation,” Arihnda said. Turning the comm’s speaker volume all the way up, she keyed Driller’s number.

  “Hey, Arihnda,” Driller’s cheerful voice came on. “What’s up?”

  “I just got a call from Ottlis,” Arihnda said. “He can’t come to the dojo tonight, but he has some free time and Moff Ghadi’s office to himself, and wants to know if I can come over for a private session.”

  “Great,” Driller said. “What did you say?”

  Arihnda felt a cynical smile twitch at her lips. So Driller had known that Ottlis worked for Ghadi, yet hadn’t bothered to mention that fact. “I said I needed to check with you and see if I could close up early.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Thanks,” Arihnda said. “Any special instructions?”

  There was just the briefest hesitation. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice subtly changed. “Instructions about what?”

  “What I should do while I’m there,” Arihnda said. “Like—oh, I don’t know. Anything I should look at or take notes on?”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Driller said, his voice returning to normal. “Just have your session and go home.”

  Arihnda looked up at Ghadi. His eyes were focused on the comm, his lips puckered in concentration. From the lack of a self-satisfied smirk it didn’t look like he’d heard whatever it was he was looking for.

  He probably hadn’t. Almost certainly hadn’t, even. He could hardly know Driller well enough to have noticed the hesitation or the briefly altered tone.

  But Arihnda had caught both. Did that mean something was going on back at Higher Skies? Or was Driller simply tired or distracted by something else?

  Maybe there was a way to find out.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Listen, there’s something else. Ottlis said that there’s a position opening up soon for an office assistant with some combat training. He was thinking I might want to apply.”

  “You mean you’d leave Higher Skies?” Driller asked, his tone suddenly cautious. “You can’t do that, Arihnda. There’s way too much work to be done, and you’re our best rep.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think you understand,” she said. “This isn’t just some random office position. It’s with Grand Moff Tarkin.”

  This time, even Ghadi couldn’t miss the pause. “Tarkin?” Driller asked carefully.

  “That’s what Ottlis said,” Arihnda said. “And look, it’s not like I’d be gone forever. When he’s not here on Coruscant, I’d only be part-time, so I might still be able to do some work for you.”

  “You’d at least be able to drop by and see us occasionally, right? Maybe have dinner and a chat?”

  “Of course,” Arihnda said. “I like talking to you. You know that.”

  “Yeah, and vice versa,” Driller said. “Well…look, have a good session and…if you want to apply for the job, go ahead. Could be interesting.”

  “Thanks,” Arihnda said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Right. Good night.”

  Arihnda keyed off the comm. “Well?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at Ghadi.

  “Well, what?” he growled. “And what exactly was that nonsense about Tarkin?”

  “Proof that you aren’t anyone’s target,” Arihnda said. “If you were, he’d have told me to look around your office while I was here, just like you obviously thought he might. And he wouldn’t have been willing to let me lose my connection with Ottlis—and therefore with you—to go work for Tarkin.”

  Slowly, some of the fire went out of Ghadi’s eyes. “You spin a good yarn, Ms. Pryce,” he said. “You might even be right. But we really need to know for sure, don’t we?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that from now on, you’re my eyes and ears inside Higher Skies,” Ghadi s
aid. “You’ll copy all their files, report on all their conversations, and make lists of all their contacts.”

  With an effort Arihnda kept her face expressionless. “I’m sure that’s not necessary, Your Excellency.”

  “Oh, I think it is,” Ghadi said. “And you’ll do it, or I’ll call ISB and tell them you came here tonight to steal confidential files and data cards. Ottlis will confirm that, of course.”

  Arihnda looked up at Ottlis. He looked back at her, his face expressionless.

  “I don’t hire fools, Ms. Pryce,” Ghadi added quietly. “Ottlis knew from the start that he’d been set up with you. He’s kept me fully apprised of the game this whole time.”

  “I’ve already told you I’m not playing any games.”

  “Then you should welcome the chance to prove it,” Ghadi said. “Ottlis will give you what you need, and then he’ll escort you home.”

  “I don’t need his protection,” Arihnda said, looking up again. And to think she’d once thought of this man as a friend. “Or his company.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Ghadi said. “I also don’t care. Good evening, Ms. Pryce. We’ll be talking again. Very soon.”

  —

  The trip to the apartment was very quiet. Ottlis waited until she had unlocked and opened the door, then strode away into the lights and flickering signs of night. Neither had said a word the entire trip.

  The apartment was empty. Juahir was probably still at the dojo, or else was meeting with whoever had told her to hook up Ottlis with her dear friend Arihnda.

  Just as well. Arihnda wasn’t ready to face her right now anyway.

  She cooked dinner completely on autopilot, and ate it the same way. Afterward, she sat down at her computer, staring at the display and trying to think.

  She’d been dropped into a box. A very small, very uncomfortable box. Even the slightest hint that she was trying to cross Ghadi, and he would hand her over to ISB, and with Ottlis corroborating the charges she would be convicted in record time.

  That left her no option but to spy on Higher Skies. But if Driller was in fact spying for someone, that someone wouldn’t be happy if he caught Arihnda digging into his secrets. If Driller wasn’t spying, and if Arihnda proved there was no deliberate threat against Ghadi, the moff might turn her over to ISB anyway as a warning to his hypothetical enemies.

  It was the same box Ghadi had trapped her in before. He probably expected it to work the same way again.

  Only this time, Arihnda was prepared.

  And it was going to cost him.

  She worked on the computer for the next hour, pulling up data, digging into rumors and unsubstantiated reports, finding obscure financial records and hints. She spent another hour putting all of it together. Somewhere along the way Juahir called and said she was heading to a party and not to wait up. Arihnda hadn’t planned to, anyway.

  She waited until she had everything in a neat package. Then, pulling out her comm, she keyed for the Universal Connection system. “My name is Arihnda Pryce,” she told the droid who took the call. “I want to send a message to a navy officer whom I believe is on Coruscant.”

  “Name?”

  She braced herself. He was either amazingly competent, she’d told herself once, or else he had powerful friends. Either way, he was worth reaching out to. “Thrawn,” she said. “Commander Thrawn.”

  —

  He was waiting in a corner booth in the Gilroy Plaza Diner when Arihnda arrived, his features half concealed by the hood of his plain robe, his red eyes completely invisible. Her first thought was that it was the wrong person, but as she neared him she saw he was wearing tinted glasses that hid all but the faintest glow.

  “Ms. Pryce,” he greeted her as she reached the table. “You are late.”

  “Sorry,” she apologized, glancing around as she sat down across from him. The diner was nearly deserted, with the only other patrons in a booth around the corner from the serving bar. That should give them sufficient privacy. “Nice glasses. With your eyes covered, most people would probably assume you’re a Pantoran.”

  “So I have been told,” Thrawn said. “Why did you ask me to meet you?”

  Arihnda studied him. His face was impassive, giving nothing away. “I’m in something of a situation,” she said. “I think you’re also dealing with some problems. I’m hoping we can help each other.”

  He inclined his head slightly beneath the hood. “Continue.”

  “This evening I was taken to a meeting with a high government official,” she said. “He thinks the advocacy group I work with is trying to destroy him. He wants me to spy on them for him, and threatened to turn me over to ISB under false charges of espionage if I refuse.”

  “Did he seem confident in that threat?”

  Arihnda frowned. An odd question. “Very confident.”

  Thrawn nodded. “Continue.”

  “That’s really about it,” Arihnda said. “I was hoping you would help me get out from under him.”

  “I see,” Thrawn said. “And your weapon?”

  Arihnda blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Surely you don’t expect me to bring turbolaser fire to bear on his office,” Thrawn said, a slight dryness to his tone. “I conclude you have some other weapon you believe will be useful against him.”

  Arihnda smiled tightly. He was good, all right. “I do,” she said, pulling out her datapad. “During his rant he mentioned that one of his mines had been recently attacked. I poked around a little and found it.” She keyed the datapad and swiveled it around to face him. “Anything interesting jump out at you?”

  Thrawn nodded. “Doonium.”

  “Yes,” Arihnda said. “A good-sized vein of it, which he apparently never registered. He appears to be selling the doonium to the navy through hidden channels, probably at inflated profits, certainly without paying taxes on it.”

  “Or perhaps is selling it elsewhere,” Thrawn said.

  “And the current black market in the metal will bring even more ridiculous profits,” Arihnda agreed. “Either way, no one knew about it until someone dug up the data and raided the mine. I asked him what was stolen, but he never answered. I’m betting heavily it was some of the doonium.”

  “And you believe his lack of disclosure is a weapon that can be brought to bear?”

  “Exactly,” Arihnda said. “I thought that since you’re a friend of Colonel Yularen, you could quietly pass this along to him.”

  “By which I assume you mean anonymously?”

  Arihnda felt her throat tighten. “Partly anonymously, yes,” she said. “It’s a little tricky. I don’t want anyone but Yularen knowing I gave it to you. But he needs to know, because I want it on his record that I gave him this data so that I don’t get arrested or charged if it turns out someone at Higher Skies was the thief.”

  For a moment Thrawn gazed at her from behind his glasses. Then, slowly, he shook his head. “I can give this to Colonel Yularen,” he said. “But I cannot do so now.”

  Arihnda stared at him. “Why not?”

  “Because the longer it is in his possession, the more likely it will become known to others within ISB,” Thrawn said. “Possibly including the close friend and secret ally of your corrupt official.”

  “You think he has some specific ally there?”

  “I am certain of it,” Thrawn said. “You said he threatened to send you to prison for theft. But his word alone would be insufficient to overcome the absence of evidence.”

  “Not even the word of a senior official?”

  “Senior officials are precisely those whom the ISB is tasked with monitoring,” Thrawn said. “Only with a secret ally could he know the charges against you would escape closer scrutiny.”

  “I don’t understand,” Arihnda said. “How do you even know he has someone like that?”

  “You said he was confident,” Thrawn reminded her. “A warrior does not threaten an enemy with an unloaded weapon unless he has no other cho
ice.” He pulled the card from the datapad and slipped it into a pocket. “I will hold your information for Colonel Yularen. But I will deliver it only when I judge the time to be right.”

  Arihnda swallowed hard. She could see Thrawn’s logic, and it made sense.

  But without Yularen and ISB holding something over Ghadi, there was no way she could take him on by herself. “What if I said I was willing to risk it?”

  “I am not.”

  “What if I sweeten the pot?” Arihnda pressed. “You know military tactics, but I know politics. I could help you there.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Thrawn said. “But I do not need assistance.”

  “Your aide might disagree,” Arihnda said. “Ensign Vanto. In three years you’ve gone from lieutenant to commander, yet he’s still an ensign. Why?”

  Even through the glasses she could see his eyes narrow. “That is a military matter.”

  “Is it?” Arihnda countered. “Remember, I was at the dojo when he got the news of your promotion. He was disappointed. Also resentful, I think, though he tried to hide it.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “He and Colonel Yularen had a short conversation when the report came in,” Arihnda said. “You were slapping sticks with H’sishi so you probably couldn’t hear them. But I was close enough to catch the gist of what they were saying.” Actually, she hadn’t heard nearly as much as she was making it sound. But she’d done some digging on Vanto while she was prepping for this meeting, and it hadn’t been hard to put the pieces together.

  Fortunately, she’d put them together right. Behind the glasses, Thrawn’s eyes narrowed. “Promotions should not be affected by politics,” he said.

  “Maybe they shouldn’t, but they are,” Arihnda said. “The way I read it, some of the senators and ministers don’t like you. You’re too good for them to attack directly, so they find other ways. Pressuring the High Command to keep your aide from advancing is one. Putting your ship last in line for repairs is another.”

  Thrawn seemed to straighten up. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, you hadn’t caught that one?” Arihnda asked. “Practically every other ship that needs dockyard space has been put on the list ahead of the Thunder Wasp. After all, the best way to make sure you don’t outshine all their precious elite Core World officers is to keep you on Coruscant away from any possible battles or engagements.”