Thrawn (Star Wars: Thrawn, #1)



“Now watch,” Arihnda said, pointing to the discolored spot where the conduit entered the apartment wall. “Okay, Daisie. Turn it on.”

From the other room came the sound of the restroom water being turned on. A moment later, a small spray of water spurted from the spot.

“A water leak?” Chesna Braker growled. “You dragged me all the way down here for a water leak?”

“It’s your building,” Arihnda reminded her calmly. “Your maintenance people kept stalling her off, and I couldn’t get anyone in your office to take this seriously.”

“So like a little girl who’s skinned her knee, you go crying to some bureaucrat in the housing department and get him to issue an order for me to drop everything and come down here?”

“Your government lease says your company is responsible for repairs,” Arihnda said. “You own the company that owns this apartment block. That makes you ultimately responsible. If your people won’t obey the law, I guess it’ll have to be you. Personally.”

“Hmm,” Braker said, eyeing her venomously. “Come over here a minute.” She turned and crossed to the window that looked out across the massive planetwide city that was Coruscant.

Frowning, Arihnda followed.

“You see that?” Braker asked when the two women were once again standing together. “Out there are the little people you’re representing so proudly. You know what they’re going to do if you ever get in trouble or need help?”

“No. What?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Braker said. “You’ll be as forgotten as yesterday’s breakfast.” She tapped her chest. “I’m the one you want to impress, Ms. Pryce. Men and women like me. Not Daisie what’s-her-name out there. We’re the ones with the power to make or break you. You’d be well advised to remember that.”

“I appreciate your concern for my well-being,” Arihnda said. “But I already have a friend in high places.”

“Who, Senator Renking?” Braker snorted. “You go ahead and believe that if you want. You’re just the latest in a long line of people he’s dropped in a dead-end job and left to rot.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arihnda said. “In the meantime, you have some repairs to make, and I have fifty-seven more apartment doors to knock on. As long as I’m here, I might as well see what else is wrong with this place.”

“Don’t bother,” Braker growled. “I’ll have one of my people—one of my little people—check into tenants’ complaints. We’ll have it all finished by the end of next week.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Ms. Braker. Good day.”

Ten minutes later Arihnda was in her aircar, buzzing her way across the Coruscant sky along with millions of other vehicles. A month ago, she mused, she would have been terrified by the traffic flow. Now she barely noticed it.

Just as a month ago she might have agreed with Braker’s suggestion that Renking had stuck her here in order to get rid of her. For the first two months the senator had talked to her maybe twice, for no more than three minutes at a time. It had very much looked like he’d forgotten about her.

That was about to change. Very, very soon.

Her comm chimed, and she pulled it out. The ID said Senator Renking.

She smiled tightly. Very soon; or possibly right now. “Arihnda Pryce,” she said.

“Senator Renking, Ms. Pryce,” Renking said over the comm. “How are things going?”

“Very well, Senator, thank you,” Arihnda said. “I’ve just taken another landlord to task for failing her responsibilities to her tenants.”

“So I hear,” Renking said, his voice going a little brittle. “I just heard from Councilor Jonne, who just heard from Ms. Braker. You’re causing a real stir down there.”

“Just doing my job, Senator,” Arihnda said, smiling to herself. So her little one-woman crusade against corruption and indifference was finally drawing the right kind of attention. “I hope you and Councilor Jonne aren’t suggesting I ignore Coruscant laws and regulations.”

“No, of course not,” Renking assured her.

“Because the Lothal citizens I’m serving certainly seem happy with our progress,” Arihnda continued. “And that is the reason I’m here.”

“Of course,” Renking said. “You’re doing a very effective job. Which is actually why I called. As you may know, with so many people living on Coruscant, the usual array of government services has been badly strained for many years. A new program has been initiated that encourages senators to set up—and fund, of course—supplementary citizen assistance offices across the planet.”

“Offices open to all Coruscant citizens, not just that senator’s own transient citizens?”

“Exactly,” Renking said. “I have four such offices, and I’m about to open a fifth in the Bartanish Four Sector. It’s occurred to me that you’re the perfect person to run it.”

“Really?” Arihnda breathed, putting some schoolgirl excitement into her voice even as she sent a cynical smile toward the traffic flow outside. “That would be wonderful. When would I start?”

“As soon as you close your office for the day—I’ll have someone else reopen it next week—clear out your apartment, and move everything to Bartanish Four. The office there is ready, and I’ve got an apartment reserved for you two and six away.”

“That sounds great,” Arihnda said. Two blocks and six levels would put her within perfect walking distance. “I’ll head back to the office and get things started right away.”

“Good. I’ll send you both the office and apartment addresses. Let me know when you’ll be arriving, and I’ll have someone meet you with the various keys. All right?”

“Sounds perfect,” Arihnda said. “Thank you again.”

“No thanks needed,” Renking said. “You’ve earned it. Take care.” The connection clicked off.

Arihnda put the comm away, smiling again. Renking didn’t mind her annoying the relatively rich and powerful; he just didn’t want her activities so closely identified with him. In an anonymous assistance office, with no obvious connection to Renking, she could make all the waves she wanted without nearly so much political blowback.

From Renking’s point of view, it had a couple of nice advantages. Arihnda would continue to stir Coruscant’s sludge, possibly digging up leverage points against local movers and shakers that Renking could use in the future. At the same time, her new position would hopefully keep her too occupied to worry about the mine she’d lost to the Empire.

What Renking probably didn’t realize was that it was just as much a win–win for Arihnda, which was why she’d worked so hard to land this exact job ever since hearing about the project a few weeks earlier. Dealing with actual Coruscant citizens instead of Lothal expatriates would move her a modest step up the social ladder; and in Bartanish Four she would also move several steps physically closer to the all-powerful Federal District.

Small steps, to be sure. But if there was one thing her parents had impressed upon her, it was that the best path didn’t have to be quick as long as it was correct.

And Arihnda was in no hurry. No hurry at all.



Suddenly, almost before Eli knew it, it was over.

“Congratulations, son,” his father said, gripping his hand tightly.

“Thanks, Dad,” Eli said.

But despite the smiles and cheerful words, he could sense an unexpected reserve lurking behind his father’s eyes. His mother’s concerns were even more visible.

It wasn’t hard to figure out the reason. Every glance at the Coruscant skyline, every lingering look at one of the other freshly minted ensigns, every lowering of their voices whenever someone nearby might hear—all of it pointed to the fact that a Wild Space cadet like Eli should never have been at Royal Imperial in the first place.

And then, there was Thrawn.

“You’re sure he’s okay?” his mother asked as they walked along one of the garden patches leading back to the barracks. “Because if the stories about Chiss are right…” She trailed off.

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