The first thing Arihnda had learned as his aide was to never interrupt a conversation. The second thing she’d learned was how to edge herself into those conversations. In this case, the best approach was to position herself at a discreet distance, outside the group but inside the edge of the senator’s peripheral vision. Eventually, she knew, he would notice her.
In this instance, the wait was barely ten seconds. “Ah—Arihnda,” Renking said, interrupting himself and holding out an inviting hand. “I was hoping to run into you—your comm said you were here, but I didn’t want to interrupt you with a call unless I had to.”
“Not a problem, Senator,” Arihnda said. “What can I do for you?”
“I need a favor.” Renking half turned to the other three people. “But I’m forgetting my manners. Colonel, Lieutenant, Ensign: This is Arihnda Pryce, one of my aides. Ms. Pryce: This is Colonel Wullf Yularen of the Imperial Security Bureau; Senior Lieutenant Thrawn, a rising star in the navy; and Ensign Eli Vanto, the lieutenant’s aide and translator.”
“Honored, noble sirs,” Arihnda said, bowing respectfully.
“Colonel Yularen was just telling me about an intriguing operation the lieutenant and ensign were recently involved with out in the Mid Rim,” Renking continued.
“Really,” Arihnda said, putting some fascination—most of it genuine—into her voice. The elite loved to hear themselves talk, but most of the time their stories were worth listening to.
“Really,” Yularen confirmed, his eyes flicking over her shoulder to Juahir and Driller. Probably making sure they were out of eavesdropping range. “The lieutenant more or less single-handedly captured a pirate ship and most of its crew, and saved a valuable shipment of tibanna gas on top of it.”
“It was hardly single-handed, Colonel,” the nonhuman said. His voice was calm and respectful, with a quiet underpinning of confidence and intelligence.
“You had only four crew with you, including Ensign Vanto,” Yularen said. “I call that close enough to single-handed. What do you say, Ensign? Was I overstating the case?”
“Not at all, sir,” Ensign Vanto said politely. He looked and sounded a little pained, as if he had no idea what he was doing here and just wanted to go home.
Which, from his distinctive accent, Arihnda guessed to be somewhere in the Outer Rim or even Wild Space, which likely made his forced presence here among the elite even more awkward and uncomfortable. Arihnda herself had worked very hard to get rid of her own Outer Rim accent, but she still felt self-conscious about her roots.
“Ensign Vanto is perhaps too modest about his and the others’ contributions,” Thrawn said. “But what matters is the result.”
“Well, however it untangles, congratulations to you both,” Renking said. “I presume you’re here on Coruscant for commendation?” He raised his eyebrows. “Or promotions?”
“Not exactly,” Yularen said. “There’s some additional…datawork, shall we say, that needs to be looked at.”
“How serious are we talking?” Renking asked, eyeing Thrawn.
“Serious enough,” Yularen said. “But I’m not particularly worried. I was an admiral during the Clone Wars, and I still have friends in high places.”
“And are no doubt making a few more tonight,” Arihnda murmured.
Yularen looked at her with fresh interest. “Very perceptive, Ms. Pryce,” he complimented her. “Yes, that’s exactly why I’m putting the lieutenant through the Coruscant social grinder. I think he did a remarkable job, and I want to make sure as much of the Senate knows about it as possible.”
“Well, I personally will be sure to look into the details when I get a chance,” Renking said. “But right now, as I said, I need Ms. Pryce to run an errand for me. Arihnda, I need to leave, but I also need to get a data card to Moff Ghadi. You know who he is, right?”
“Yes, sir, of course,” Arihnda said. Actually, she’d made quite a few private deliveries to Ghadi over the past two years. Ghadi was always too busy to talk to her during those visits, but she’d always made a point of engaging his reception and staff people in friendly conversation. This might finally be her chance to make contact with the moff himself.
“Good,” Renking said. “He’ll need to load it into a secure datapad, download the files, then return the card to you.”
“Understood,” Arihnda said. A slightly unusual procedure, but still one she’d occasionally done before. “Do you want me to take it to your office when he’s finished?”
“Please,” Renking said. “Just put it in the drop slot.” He nodded to Yularen and the others. “And now, I really must take my leave. Colonel, good luck. Lieutenant, and Ensign, even better luck.” He turned and began weaving his way through the crowd toward the main entrance.
“If you’ll excuse us, Ms. Pryce,” Yularen said with a courteous bow, “I have a few more people I want to introduce Senior Lieutenant Thrawn to before we head across Core Square to the next reception.”
“Of course, Colonel,” Arihnda said, bowing in return. “Lieutenant; Ensign.”
She turned and headed away, noting that Yularen and the other officers were heading toward a knot of other senators.
“I thought you were going to introduce us,” Driller complained as he and Juahir came up beside her.
“Sorry,” Arihnda apologized. “Wasn’t really an opportunity. Next group.”
“So who is he?” Juahir asked. “And what is he?”
“Mostly what he is is in trouble with the High Command,” Arihnda said. “We didn’t get any further than that.”
“Interesting,” Driller said. “High Command doesn’t usually bother with junior officers. Wonder whose tooka he ran over.”
“You can ask your uncle when he gets back,” Arihnda said. “All I know is that when someone like Colonel Yularen says additional datawork with a pause between the words, he’s talking about something serious.”
“Or more precisely, not talking about it,” Driller said.
“Exactly,” Arihnda said. “But that’s Thrawn’s problem. My problem is that I have to go to work.”
“Yeah, we saw the handoff,” Juahir said. “Delivery, right?”
“Right.”
“And during an Ascension Week party, too.” Juahir shook her head. “Renking’s a slave driver. You want us to come with you?”
“No, that’s okay,” Arihnda said, craning her neck. She couldn’t see Ghadi, but if he was here it shouldn’t take long to track him down. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. Have fun, enjoy yourselves, and don’t get drunk on the swirlydips.”
“Swirlydips have alcohol in them?” Juahir asked, brightening.
“They do here,” Arihnda said. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”
—
Renking had been right about seeing Ghadi earlier. With the moff’s distinctive appearance, Arihnda spotted him within three minutes of starting her search.
“So Renking has you working tonight, does he?” Ghadi asked, fingering the data card. His eyes were bright and intense, Arihnda noted a little uneasily. Swirlydips, or something stronger. Hopefully, he was functional enough to get this over with quickly so she could get back to working the party.
“Yes, Your Excellency,” she said. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t have interrupted you if it wasn’t important.”
“And he even sent you,” Ghadi said, smiling crookedly. “Well, come on.” He turned, sending his patterned red-and-yellow cloak swirling through the air around him as he headed for the lifts. “My secure datapad’s in my suite,” he added as Arihnda hurried to catch up. “It’ll just take a minute, and then you can get back to enjoying yourself.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Arihnda said, glancing around as they worked their way through the crowd. She’d never even seen pictures of what the Alisandre’s suites looked like. If the ballroom was anything to go by, Ghadi’s suite would be well worth a quick visit.
It was.