“Actually, that’s why I’m calling,” he said. “I’m watching the office alone tonight—everyone else is off to a party—and if we move the table in the conference room over to the wall there should be plenty of room for a sparring session. You game?”
“I think so,” Arihnda said, frowning. This was out of the blue. Still, it would be a chance to get in some practice. Not to mention a couple of hours of human contact that wasn’t just pitching high-minded policies to senators and ministers. “When do you want me? And where do you want me—you’ve never given me the address.”
“I haven’t? Sorry.” He rattled off the address, a place in one of the office spires near the Senate Building. “As to time, the sooner the better. Like I said, everyone’s already gone, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“Aside from the doorwatch droids?”
“Well, of course aside from them,” he agreed. “But I’m high enough clearance that I can vouch to them for you. How soon can you be here?”
Arihnda checked the chrono. Technically, she was supposed to keep the office open for another forty minutes, just in case some senator’s aide dropped by for more information on one of Higher Skies’ policy positions.
But as usual, she was alone here this afternoon. Just this once, she decided, the Empire’s movers and shakers could wait until tomorrow. “Ten minutes,” she said.
“Ten it is,” Ottlis said. “Just buzz the door when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”
Arihnda backtracked the address on her datapad during the air taxi ride, hoping to find out who exactly Ottlis worked for. But that information was unlisted. Once inside the building—Ottlis had already cleared her with the outer door droids—she looked for a directory or some other index or occupant listing.
Again, nothing. Apparently the residents didn’t want even droid-approved visitors to know who was here and where exactly they were located.
She’d already guessed Ottlis’s employer was very high up in the official ranks. This merely confirmed it.
The two doorwatch droids in the hallway stared silently at Arihnda as she approached the office door. But they permitted her to touch the buzzer without challenge. Ottlis answered promptly, gave the droids his personal clearance password, and ushered her inside.
“Nice,” she commented, looking around as he led the way through the foyer and down a long corridor. The carpeting, wall hangings, and pillar sculpts were elegant but more understated than the décor she’d seen in other senators’ offices. Someone who liked luxury, but didn’t feel a need to rub people’s faces in it. “Your boss must be even more important than I guessed.”
“Probably so,” Ottlis agreed. “This way.”
Arihnda frowned, casually dropping a half step behind him. There was an odd layer of emotional distance in Ottlis’s speech and mannerisms tonight. Something wasn’t right. “Where’s the party?” she asked.
“What party?”
“The party you said everyone else had gone to.”
“Oh.” He stopped by an open door and gestured her toward it. “In here, please.”
“Thank you,” she said. Something was definitely wrong, but it was too late to back out now. Brushing past him, she stepped into the room.
And came to an abrupt halt.
This wasn’t the conference room Ottlis had promised. It was an office, as luxuriously appointed as the foyer and corridor, with trinkets and trophies from around the galaxy on display and no room whatsoever for sparring.
And seated behind the carved pearl desk—
“Good evening, Ms. Pryce,” Moff Ghadi said, rising to his feet. “It’s nice to see you again.”
—
For a long moment Arihnda stood where she was, the memory of her last run-in with Ghadi flooding over her. This was the man who’d thrown spice on her and then threatened to have her arrested. The man who’d used that blackmail lever to make her betray Senator Renking. The man who’d sent her entire life into a tailspin.
“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 na?ve-child approach won’t work anymore,” Ghadi said. “Not for you.”
“I’m not na?ve, 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.