by Timothy Zahn
“Easy, Eccos, easy,” Arihnda said. “Basic, if you please—my Shusugaunt is quite rusty. Yes, I’m back; and yes, I’m still governor. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still work together. If you’re still in the business of making money, that is.”
“Of course,” Eccos said, the words barely understandable through her thick accent.
“Good,” Arihnda said. “You’re aware, of course, that Pryce Mining had a vein of doonium they were working. I presume you’re also aware that the vein has played out.”
“Yes, to both,” Eccos said, her voice heavy with regret. “It is very sad.”
“Not really, since we both know it isn’t true,” Arihnda said calmly. “I saw the report, and I know that the granite block that supposedly marked the end of the vein is nothing more than an intrusion. The doonium continues on the other side.”
“Really?” Eccos said, sounding surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Arihnda said. “Because you’ve been mining it.”
The wrinkled cheeks puckered with dismay. “Governor Pryce—”
“Don’t bother denying it,” Arihnda interrupted. “Because I’ve seen your numbers, too. The reason I called was to tell you that I’ve just shut down Pryce Mining. That means that starting tomorrow morning you can go full-bore on that vein without worrying that one of Renking’s stooges will hear your machines behind the granite.”
The cheeks puckered again, this time in the opposite direction. “I…do not know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Arihnda said. “Just get that doonium out and into processing.” She looked briefly at the map she’d pulled up on her datapad. “Depending on where the vein goes, we might need to relocate another farmer or two to get it out. Let me know if you need me to do that.”
“Yes, Governor Pryce,” Eccos said. “May you rest tonight in the warmth of your dreams.”
“And may you,” Arihnda said.
She keyed off, the sheer low-mind commonness of the traditional farewell grating across her ears and mind. She’d always thought Lothal painfully rustic, but life on Coruscant had seriously sharpened the contrast. She turned back to her computer.
And paused. Through the west-facing window, the sun was beginning to set.
For a moment she watched, thinking back to the evening when her mother was arrested and their lives had changed forever. At the time she’d thought how the people in big cities probably never saw the horizon or the sunset, and had wondered if they ever thought about such things. Or whether they even cared.
Arihnda had lived on Coruscant, in the galaxy’s ultimate big city.
And as she gazed out the window, she realized that she really didn’t care.
Keying the blinds closed, she turned her back on the distant horizon and got back to work.
—
The next few months were an unpleasant mix of frantic work, irritating dealings with the locals, and unrelenting tedium. Lothal was exactly as Arihnda remembered it: filled with backwoods humans, even more backwoods nonhumans, patterns of cronyism that often undercut the Imperial interests on the planet, and a social structure that provided no quality entertainment whatsoever.
The cronyism was the worst part. During her years away in the capital the Empire had steadily built up Lothal’s industries, expanded the mines, and gradually brought in more troops to oversee it all.
But not everyone was happy with the planet’s new direction. The old leaders and families resented the slow erosion of their power, and they weren’t quiet about lining up their friends, associates, and everyone else within their web of influence to denounce the New Order. The Imperial response had been predictable: repression of speech and curtailment of freedoms, followed by business as usual.
Part of that business involved moving farmers off their land, sometimes to establish a new factory or military facility, more often to enhance mining operations. Naturally, the farmers complained about the forced relocation and drew their friends into the quarrel, occasionally to the point of violence.
It was a pointless argument. Lothal had more than enough cropland for its purposes, and in fact was still a net exporter of foodstuffs. The relative handful of lost farms was negligible. But the displaced farmers seldom saw it that way, and the offer of jobs in factories or mines was usually rejected out of hand.
Still, despite the complaints of a small minority, the work continued to progress. Those who had claimed that the new development would create jobs and prosperity were vindicated. Those who had decried the heightened Imperial presence and preached doom were reduced to quiet muttering.
But not all the threats were internal. Arihnda had been on Lothal three months when an unexpected danger quietly reared its head.
—
“Yes, Your Excellency, I noticed this report a few days ago,” Minister Tua said, frowning in confusion at the page Arihnda had pulled up on her computer. “I don’t see why it’s a problem.”
“Don’t you,” Arihnda said darkly. For all Tua’s expertise at managing Lothal’s industrial infrastructure, the woman was utterly blind in certain matters. “The governor of Kintoni is offering to expand her military-grade landing and maintenance facilities, and you don’t see why that’s a problem?”
“No, Your Excellency,” Tua said, looking more confused than ever. “I would think the more naval presence we have in the area, the better. With all the pirates and smugglers—”
“We don’t want an enhanced naval presence in this area,” Arihnda ground out. Did the woman understand nothing? “We want an enhanced naval presence on Lothal. Do you understand? Only on Lothal.”
Tua shrank back into her chair, her eyes wide with surprise and fear. Good. “Your Excellency—”
“We want Lothal to be the center of this part of the Outer Rim,” Arihnda said quietly. Somehow, the softer tone seemed to frighten Tua more than the outburst had. “That means industry, mining, commerce, expanded youth and military academies…and a powerful navy presence to maintain it all. If Kintoni starts drawing away our ships, everything else will follow.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you want to live on Lothal the way it was, Minister Tua? Or do you even remember that far back?”
With a visible effort, Tua found her voice. “I understand, Your Excellency. But…”
“But you don’t see what we can do about it,” Arihnda said, suddenly disgusted. All of Tua’s offworld schooling, and yet here she was drifting back to thinking like a native. That is, barely at all. “I’m leaving immediately for Coruscant,” she said, blanking the display and standing up. So much for settling in permanently. “You’ll be in charge until I return.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Tua said, belatedly getting to her feet. “Ah…may I ask how long you’ll be gone?”
“Until I finish this,” Arihnda said. “One way or another.”
—
“I’m sorry, but Grand Moff Tarkin isn’t on Coruscant at the moment,” the receptionist at Tarkin’s office said, her voice polite but vacant. “If you wish, I can send him a message.”
“No need,” Arihnda said. She hadn’t really expected Tarkin to be here, but it had been worth a try. “Just add a note to whatever you next send him that Governor Arihnda Pryce of Lothal sends her greetings.”
“Yes, Governor.”
So she didn’t recognize Arihnda, either by face or by name. Not surprising, really. There were thousands of governors in the Empire, and no one could be expected to memorize even a tenth of them.
Still, Arihnda had hoped.
The airspeeder’s holocomm was blinking a waiting call when she returned. She glanced at the ID, smiled to herself, and keyed it. “This is Governor Arihnda Pryce,” she identified herself to the uniformed man who answered. “I’m returning a call from Commodore Thrawn.”
“One moment, Governor.” The display blanked. A minute later, Thrawn’s familiar blue face and red eyes appeared. “Ms. Pryce,” Thrawn said, inclining
his head toward her in greeting. “Rather, I should say, Governor Pryce.”
“Thank you for returning my call, Commodore,” Arihnda said, deciding not to make an issue of the slip. She was familiar enough with Thrawn’s lack of grace in social and political matters to know it hadn’t been a deliberate insult. Besides, it was never a good idea to berate someone who was—hopefully—about to be useful. “Have you had a chance to look over the proposals I sent you?”
“I have,” Thrawn said, lowering his eyes to something off-screen. “If I understand correctly, you want my opinion as to whether Lothal or Kintoni would be the better location for an expansion of the navy’s presence in that part of the Outer Rim.”
“That’s correct,” Arihnda said, mentally crossing her fingers. Against her natural instincts she’d discarded her original plan to subtly weigh the data and proposals in Lothal’s favor. Thrawn might detect such manipulation, and that would be the end of any chance to get him on her side. “Obviously, I have an interest in this matter, but I tried to present the choice in as fair a manner as possible.”
“And so you did, Governor,” Thrawn acknowledged, his eyes still focused off-screen. “I took the liberty of confirming your notes and maps through the navy archives. Your presentation was remarkably evenhanded.”
“Thank you,” Arihnda said, feeling a shiver run up her back. Just as well she hadn’t tried to slant it. “Your conclusion?”
“Both systems offer advantages,” Thrawn said, finally looking back up at her. “But if I had to choose one, I would choose Lothal.”
Arihnda exhaled silently. “Thank you, Commodore,” she said. “May I quote you when I make my presentation to the High Command?”
“No need, Governor,” Thrawn said. “I have worked up a full analysis that includes my conclusions. I can send it to you now, if you like.”
“I would indeed,” Arihnda said. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” he assured her. “I always stand ready to assist the Imperial navy in any way I can. Is there anything more?”
“Not at this time, Commodore,” she said. “Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again soon. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Governor.”
It took a few moments for the report to load, first to her airspeeder and then to a data card. Arihnda watched the progress, running it all through her mind. With Thrawn’s blessing in hand, there was only one person yet she needed to see before she would be ready to take her case to the High Command.
And there was a reason she’d put this contact last on her list. Securing the data card in her pocket, she took a moment to mentally prepare herself. Then, joining the traffic flow, she headed across the center of the Federal District toward a familiar—a far too familiar—place.
The office of Senator Domus Renking.
—
“I hardly expected to see you here today,” Renking commented stiffly as he ushered Arihnda to a chair. Still seething over his loss of Pryce Mining, Arihnda guessed, but still not ready to try a countermove against her. “I heard you were on Coruscant, but assumed you’d be spending your time with all those powerful friends and patrons you once threatened me with.”
“Social calls can wait,” Arihnda said, pulling out a data card. “I presume you’ve heard about Kintoni’s request for a larger navy presence in their system?”
“Of course,” Renking said, frowning as he sat down behind his desk. “So?”
“So even the navy hasn’t got infinite resources,” Arihnda said as patiently as she could. She should have guessed Renking would be so focused on his petty political intrigues that he would miss the full significance of Sanz’s power play. “So every credit they spend on Kintoni is a credit they don’t spend on Lothal. So we have to put a stop to it.”
“All right, fine,” he said. “Points well taken. I presume you have some ideas?”
“Of course,” Arihnda said. “The plan is threefold. First, I have a proposal showing what Lothal could do in the way of landing and maintenance facilities. Here are the details.” She handed him a data card. “Second, I have an analysis and recommendation for Lothal from Commodore Thrawn. Third—”
“Thrawn?” Renking cut in, frowning again. “That blue-skinned lieutenant we met at that Ascension Week party?”
“Yes, only he’s a commodore now,” Arihnda said. “And is highly respected by the High Command. His opinion ought to carry significant weight. And third—” She raised her eyebrows. “—I want you to work on Governor Sanz.”
“Work on her how?”
“I don’t know,” Arihnda said impatiently. “Talk to her, argue with her, persuade her—however you want to do it is up to you. Just get her to withdraw her proposal.”
“I can try,” Renking said. “How long do I have?”
“The presentations will be heard six days from now,” she said. “I’m going to spend that time fine-tuning my proposal and looking for allies in the Senate. I suggest you spend that time working on Sanz.”
“Got it,” Renking said. “However I want to do it?”
Arihnda lifted a hand. “Just do what you do best, Senator. Do what you do best.”
—
“All rise,” the warrant officer standing beside the short table intoned.
Seated among the crowd in the petitioners’ gallery, Arihnda stood up, Renking beside her, as an officer and two civilians filed into the room. Across the narrow aisle, she spotted Governor Sanz as she rose with the rest of the people on her side of the gallery. Sanz’s back, it seemed to her, looked unnaturally stiff.
The board took their seats, and as the petitioners sat down the civilian in the middle picked up the datapad lying on the table in front of her. “The select committee of the Imperial High Command has studied the various proposals that have been brought before it,” she said. “We are here to make their decisions known.” She tapped the datapad. “First: in the matter of Lothal versus Kintoni regarding a contract for the expansion of navy facilities. The contract is awarded to Lothal.”
Arihnda felt a flood of relief wash over her. She glanced across the aisle, and it seemed to her that some of Sanz’s stiffness drained away.
Odd, given that her bid had just been turned down. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted the contract as much as she’d let on.
“We can go now,” Renking prompted quietly, tapping her sleeve.
“Go ahead,” Arihnda murmured back, studying her datapad. “The next few petitions are also Outer Rim matters. I’d like to see how those go down.”
Renking grunted. “Fine,” he said, and lapsed into sullen silence.
Arihnda had been keeping an eye on the various petitions, and none of the board’s decisions came as a surprise. Finally, after twenty minutes, she nodded and gestured Renking to the aisle. He stood up and slipped past the rest of the people in their row, Arihnda right behind him.
“That worked out well,” Renking commented as they left the audience room and headed toward the building’s exit. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you,” Arihnda said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a woman in a white ISB tunic angling across the entryway toward them. “But we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I’m glad I could do my part—”
“Senator Domus Renking?” the woman said.
Renking turned to her, giving a small twitch as he spotted the uniform. “Yes,” he said cautiously.
“Major Hartell, ISB,” the woman identified herself. “I need you to come with me, sir.”
“What for?” Renking asked, his face starting to darken. “What’s this about?”
Passersby were beginning to pause and slow down, Arihnda noted peripherally, and heads were starting to turn. “Do you really want to have that discussion here, Senator?” Hartell asked.
“I’ll tell you what I don’t want,” Renking countered, his voice starting to rise. “I don’t want some ISB flunky throwing my name on a list just so some other ISB flunky can play pow
er games with the Imperial Senate. I demand to know the charge, if there even is one, and who the claimant is.”
“As you wish, Senator,” Hartell said. “The claimant in this case is the Imperial Security Bureau itself. The charge is bribery.”
Renking caught his breath. “What?” he asked, the words coming out from between stiff lips.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Hartell said. “Four days ago, you approached Governor Sanz of Kintoni, offering a substantial bribe if she would withdraw her planet’s petition before the High Command. Governor Sanz declined on the grounds that a withdrawal at this late date would look suspicious, but then agreed to your counterproposal that she deliberately sabotage her presentation, with double the original bribe to be paid if Lothal won the bid.”
Renking had taken on the look of a hunted animal. “That’s a lie,” he insisted. “All of it.” But to Arihnda his tone sounded more worried than defiant. “Whatever Sanz told you—”
“Governor Sanz hasn’t told us anything,” Hartell said evenly. “But she will. She’s already in custody for her part in this conspiracy.”
Renking caught his breath, twisting his head to look at Arihnda. “Pryce?”
“You really shouldn’t discuss criminal acts with someone else’s data card in your card pouch,” Arihnda said calmly.
“But—” Renking shot a look at Hartell, looked back at Arihnda. “You told me to do it.”
“I told you to talk, argue, or persuade her,” Arihnda corrected. “I never suggested or even hinted you try to bribe her.” She gestured at Hartell. “All of which is also on the recording.”
“Indeed,” Hartell said. “Thank you for your assistance, Governor Pryce. You may go. Senator Renking, follow me, please.”
Renking gave Arihnda one final look, his expression a mix of disbelief and hatred. Then, without a word, he turned and followed Hartell out.
All around them, with the drama now over, the people of Coruscant resumed their activities.
—
“I’ll be leaving for Lothal in the morning,” Arihnda told the receptionist at her Coruscant office as she gathered the data cards she’d forgotten to pick up earlier that day. “I shouldn’t be gone long, though. There are a few meetings and conferences next month I’ll want to attend, Grand Moff Tarkin has invited me to visit Eriadu, and I’ll certainly want to be back for Ascension Week. So you might as well keep everything open and running.”
