Culper’s lips compressed briefly. “I mean that for a Wild Space person like yourself, the Inner Rim is an incredible move upward.”
“I see,” Eli said, a trickle of anger tugging at him. He’d seen plenty of superiority and disdain from the Core cadets at the Royal Imperial Academy, but he’d never thought he would hear that same prejudice from a senior government official. “Tell me, Ms. Culper: Why exactly have I been singled out for this honor?”
“Because His Excellency considers you worthy of promotion.”
“So you said,” Eli agreed. “What’s the real reason?”
Culper’s lips compressed again. “If you don’t wish to avail yourself of this opportunity—”
“It’s because of Thrawn, isn’t it?” Eli cut in as he suddenly understood. “Moff Ghadi doesn’t care if I succeed. What he wants is for Thrawn to fail.”
“His Excellency has no interest in what happens to a lowly senior lieutenant.”
Eli looked at the door ahead with a sudden flash of understanding. “Only he’s not a senior lieutenant anymore, is he? He’s been promoted to captain.”
Culper’s lip twitched. Not much, but enough to show that Eli had hit the mark. “Fine,” she said, her smooth voice going dark. “Yes, he’s being promoted; and yes, there are a few of us who aren’t pleased by all the attention the alien is getting. His actions cost the Empire hundreds of thousands of credits’ worth of lost tibanna gas.”
“He saved half of it.”
“Forty percent,” Culper said frostily. “And that was Admiral Wiskovis’s doing, not his. All your alien friend cared about was showing how clever he was.”
“He also rescued the freighter crew.”
“Three of whom were aliens.”
Eli felt his skin prickle. “What difference does that make?”
“Do you really not understand?” Culper demanded. “The Empire’s priority was to retrieve the tibanna. That was what was valuable. That was what a good Imperial officer should have focused on. Instead, he risked the lives of you and the other Blood Crow crew to rescue some aliens. What do you think he’ll do the next time such a decision is required?”
“I see,” Eli said. So there it was. He wasn’t being cited for ability and groomed for a prestigious post. He was nothing more than a tool with which Ghadi and his friends hoped to topple the non-elite, nonhuman threat to their comfortable little universe. “I appreciate your honesty, Ms. Culper. Please thank His Excellency Moff Ghadi for his offer. But I’m happy right where I am.”
“Then you’re a fool,” Culper said acidly. “He will go down someday. Even with you there to smooth the political path for him, he’ll go down. He was lucky this time. But luck never lasts. And when he goes down, anyone too close will go down with him.”
“Moff Ghadi will make sure of that?”
Culper smiled. “Good day, Ensign,” she said.
She started to turn away, then paused. “Oh, and if I were you, I’d get comfortable with that title,” she added. “You’ll be holding it for quite some time.”
She turned again, swirling her cape this time, and strode toward the exit. Eli watched her go, the emotional tangle emerging again as the disgust receded.
But while his feelings were still mixed, his course was now clear. One way or another, his career was linked to Thrawn’s.
“You are disturbed.” Thrawn’s voice came from behind him.
“I’m fine,” Eli growled. Was it too much to ask that people stop sneaking up on him? “Did you get your orders?”
“Yes,” Thrawn said. “What did she want from you?”
“She was offering me a job,” Eli said shortly. “What’s your new assignment?”
Thrawn looked down at the datapad in his hand. “First officer aboard the Thunder Wasp. It is listed as an Arquitens-class light cruiser currently on patrol duty in the Mid Rim.”
“And you’ve been promoted to captain?”
Thrawn inclined his head, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” Eli said. “I assume you picked up my orders while you were at it?”
“Yes.” Thrawn held out a data card. “Also the Thunder Wasp, as my aide-de-camp.”
“With no promotion.”
“No,” Thrawn said. “My apologies, Ensign. I had recommended you for both promotion and for a combat station.”
“Which I’m not really trained for,” Eli pointed out. “Where I should be is in supply.”
Thrawn was silent a moment. “This job you were offered. Was it better than the one the navy has assigned you?”
Eli looked over just in time to see Culper leave the room. Captain of his own ship…“No,” he said. “Not really.”
—
It took Arihnda four tries to find what she was looking for.
But it was time well spent.
The place she was now in was without a doubt the most poorly staffed citizen assistance office she’d ever seen. Only four of the twelve desks were occupied, two by humans, one each by a Rodian and a Duros. There was a light coming from the supervisor’s office door, so apparently there was at least one other person here.
The lack of personnel was likely an artifact of the timing, with the Ascension Week festivities having taken their toll on the office’s staff. The obvious corollary was that the ones who were here would be the ones who couldn’t get time off, which likely meant the newest and least competent.
Of course, since ordinary citizens didn’t get weeklong holidays off, either, the line was just as long as usual. Longer, really, since only a third of the staff was there to handle their problems.
Arihnda smiled to herself. Perfect.
She had plenty of time during her wait in line to evaluate the workers. She finally settled on one of the humans, a squat woman whose face and body language silently proclaimed the fact that she didn’t want to be there. Arihnda deftly tweaked her position in line just enough to make sure that Grouchy’s desk was the one she finally sat down at.
“Welcome to Proam Avenue Citizen Assistance,” the woman said in a voice that was more mechanical than that of some droids Arihnda had worked with. “My name is Nariba. How can I help you?”
“I’m Arihnda,” Arihnda said. “I recently lost my job, and I need another one. Something interesting and fun would be the best. Oh, and I also need a place to stay.”
“Is that all?” Nariba said with a grunt, peering down at her computer. “References? Qualifications? Job history? Come on, come on—I don’t have all day.”
“I used to work for a senator,” Arihnda said brightly. “But all I’ve been offered since then was a waitress job.”
“And you didn’t take it?” Nariba growled. “Not smart. You’re not going to get anything better around here.”
“But I used to work for a senator.”
“Hey, honey, look around you,” Nariba said in a voice of strained patience. “Half the people in Core Square used to work for a senator. You’re lucky you didn’t have to work under a senator, if you know what I mean.” She peered a little more closely. “Or maybe you did. You’re the type a lot of them would like.”
“Are you suggesting my senator would act immorally?” Arihnda asked, a small part of her appreciating the irony of the question.
“What, you just fall off the Rimma transport?” Nariba puckered her lips in a condescending smile. “Of course you did. Worked on your accent, I see. Need to work a little harder.”
“I will,” Arihnda promised. “But about my job and an apartment…?”
Nariba rolled her eyes. “Sure, why not? There are still people who believe in miracles. Give me your comm number and I’ll put you on the list.”
Arihnda did so. Thanking Nariba, she stood up and waved over the next person in line.
And then headed straight to the supervisor’s office.
There was a buzzer by the door. Arihnda tapped it and waited a moment. She tapped it again, and again. On the fourth buzz, the door slid open.