Thrawn (Star Wars: Thrawn, #1)

“Hey, Arihnda,” Driller’s cheerful voice came on. “What’s up?”

“I just got a call from Ottlis,” Arihnda said. “He can’t come to the dojo tonight, but he has some free time and Moff Ghadi’s office to himself, and wants to know if I can come over for a private session.”

“Great,” Driller said. “What did you say?”

Arihnda felt a cynical smile twitch at her lips. So Driller had known that Ottlis worked for Ghadi, yet hadn’t bothered to mention that fact. “I said I needed to check with you and see if I could close up early.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Arihnda said. “Any special instructions?”

There was just the briefest hesitation. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice subtly changed. “Instructions about what?”

“What I should do while I’m there,” Arihnda said. “Like—oh, I don’t know. Anything I should look at or take notes on?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Driller said, his voice returning to normal. “Just have your session and go home.”

Arihnda looked up at Ghadi. His eyes were focused on the comm, his lips puckered in concentration. From the lack of a self-satisfied smirk it didn’t look like he’d heard whatever it was he was looking for.

He probably hadn’t. Almost certainly hadn’t, even. He could hardly know Driller well enough to have noticed the hesitation or the briefly altered tone.

But Arihnda had caught both. Did that mean something was going on back at Higher Skies? Or was Driller simply tired or distracted by something else?

Maybe there was a way to find out.

“Thanks,” she said. “Listen, there’s something else. Ottlis said that there’s a position opening up soon for an office assistant with some combat training. He was thinking I might want to apply.”

“You mean you’d leave Higher Skies?” Driller asked, his tone suddenly cautious. “You can’t do that, Arihnda. There’s way too much work to be done, and you’re our best rep.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think you understand,” she said. “This isn’t just some random office position. It’s with Grand Moff Tarkin.”

This time, even Ghadi couldn’t miss the pause. “Tarkin?” Driller asked carefully.

“That’s what Ottlis said,” Arihnda said. “And look, it’s not like I’d be gone forever. When he’s not here on Coruscant, I’d only be part-time, so I might still be able to do some work for you.”

“You’d at least be able to drop by and see us occasionally, right? Maybe have dinner and a chat?”

“Of course,” Arihnda said. “I like talking to you. You know that.”

“Yeah, and vice versa,” Driller said. “Well…look, have a good session and…if you want to apply for the job, go ahead. Could be interesting.”

“Thanks,” Arihnda said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right. Good night.”

Arihnda keyed off the comm. “Well?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at Ghadi.

“Well, what?” he growled. “And what exactly was that nonsense about Tarkin?”

“Proof that you aren’t anyone’s target,” Arihnda said. “If you were, he’d have told me to look around your office while I was here, just like you obviously thought he might. And he wouldn’t have been willing to let me lose my connection with Ottlis—and therefore with you—to go work for Tarkin.”

Slowly, some of the fire went out of Ghadi’s eyes. “You spin a good yarn, Ms. Pryce,” he said. “You might even be right. But we really need to know for sure, don’t we?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that from now on, you’re my eyes and ears inside Higher Skies,” Ghadi said. “You’ll copy all their files, report on all their conversations, and make lists of all their contacts.”

With an effort Arihnda kept her face expressionless. “I’m sure that’s not necessary, Your Excellency.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Ghadi said. “And you’ll do it, or I’ll call ISB and tell them you came here tonight to steal confidential files and data cards. Ottlis will confirm that, of course.”

Arihnda looked up at Ottlis. He looked back at her, his face expressionless.

“I don’t hire fools, Ms. Pryce,” Ghadi added quietly. “Ottlis knew from the start that he’d been set up with you. He’s kept me fully apprised of the game this whole time.”

“I’ve already told you I’m not playing any games.”

“Then you should welcome the chance to prove it,” Ghadi said. “Ottlis will give you what you need, and then he’ll escort you home.”

“I don’t need his protection,” Arihnda said, looking up again. And to think she’d once thought of this man as a friend. “Or his company.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Ghadi said. “I also don’t care. Good evening, Ms. Pryce. We’ll be talking again. Very soon.”



The trip to the apartment was very quiet. Ottlis waited until she had unlocked and opened the door, then strode away into the lights and flickering signs of night. Neither had said a word the entire trip.

The apartment was empty. Juahir was probably still at the dojo, or else was meeting with whoever had told her to hook up Ottlis with her dear friend Arihnda.

Just as well. Arihnda wasn’t ready to face her right now anyway.

She cooked dinner completely on autopilot, and ate it the same way. Afterward, she sat down at her computer, staring at the display and trying to think.

She’d been dropped into a box. A very small, very uncomfortable box. Even the slightest hint that she was trying to cross Ghadi, and he would hand her over to ISB, and with Ottlis corroborating the charges she would be convicted in record time.

That left her no option but to spy on Higher Skies. But if Driller was in fact spying for someone, that someone wouldn’t be happy if he caught Arihnda digging into his secrets. If Driller wasn’t spying, and if Arihnda proved there was no deliberate threat against Ghadi, the moff might turn her over to ISB anyway as a warning to his hypothetical enemies.

It was the same box Ghadi had trapped her in before. He probably expected it to work the same way again.

Only this time, Arihnda was prepared.

And it was going to cost him.

She worked on the computer for the next hour, pulling up data, digging into rumors and unsubstantiated reports, finding obscure financial records and hints. She spent another hour putting all of it together. Somewhere along the way Juahir called and said she was heading to a party and not to wait up. Arihnda hadn’t planned to, anyway.

She waited until she had everything in a neat package. Then, pulling out her comm, she keyed for the Universal Connection system. “My name is Arihnda Pryce,” she told the droid who took the call. “I want to send a message to a navy officer whom I believe is on Coruscant.”

“Name?”

She braced herself. He was either amazingly competent, she’d told herself once, or else he had powerful friends. Either way, he was worth reaching out to. “Thrawn,” she said. “Commander Thrawn.”



He was waiting in a corner booth in the Gilroy Plaza Diner when Arihnda arrived, his features half concealed by the hood of his plain robe, his red eyes completely invisible. Her first thought was that it was the wrong person, but as she neared him she saw he was wearing tinted glasses that hid all but the faintest glow.

“Ms. Pryce,” he greeted her as she reached the table. “You are late.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, glancing around as she sat down across from him. The diner was nearly deserted, with the only other patrons in a booth around the corner from the serving bar. That should give them sufficient privacy. “Nice glasses. With your eyes covered, most people would probably assume you’re a Pantoran.”

“So I have been told,” Thrawn said. “Why did you ask me to meet you?”

Arihnda studied him. His face was impassive, giving nothing away. “I’m in something of a situation,” she said. “I think you’re also dealing with some problems. I’m hoping we can help each other.”

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