Tua turned back. “Yes, Your Excellency?”
Arihnda held out the woman’s datapad. “I understand Senator Renking is on Lothal at the moment,” she said as Tua hastily retrieved the device. “Have someone inform him that I want to see him in my office at his earliest convenience.”
Her office in the government building was just as she’d left it: neat, but only sparsely decorated. Azadi’s supporters had looted the room of all his personal effects after his arrest, and Arihnda hadn’t bothered to replace any of them.
Nor did she intend to. She was here to work, not relax among trinkets and sentiment.
She spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening reading through the data that had accumulated since Azadi’s last report to Coruscant. Lothal’s industrialization was proceeding at a gratifying pace, but there were still some serious deficiencies that needed to be addressed.
It was almost sundown when the droid in the outer office announced that Renking had arrived.
To Arihnda’s complete lack of surprise, the senator barged through the door without waiting for permission to enter. “Welcome back, Your Excellency,” he said, without a shred of actual welcome in his voice. “How long are you here for this time?”
“Hopefully, I’m going to be here permanently,” Arihnda said.
“Wonderful.” He stopped at the edge of the desk, his face darkening. “Now what the hell is this about closing my mine?”
“Your mine,” Arihnda countered calmly. “Forgive me, but I didn’t realize you had a mine. I thought all mines on Lothal were owned or overseen by the Empire.”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Renking ground out. “Your old mine—Pryce Mining. My agreement with the Empire was for ten percent of the profits.”
“That would have been reason enough right there to shut it down,” Arihnda said. “But don’t flatter yourself. Closing it was a strictly business decision. The doonium vein has tapped out, and there aren’t enough experienced miners left to waste them on underperforming rock. Hence, Pryce Mining will be shut down and its employees transferred elsewhere.”
“And I suppose you’ll decide which people go where?” Renking asked suspiciously.
“I’ll leave that up to Minister Tua,” Arihnda said. “But it seems only fair that the employees with the highest seniority be offered the best positions.”
“Those being the ones left over from when you ran the mine, I suppose?”
“That is how seniority works.”
Renking hissed between his teeth. “I don’t have to just sit here and take this, you know,” he said. “I can bring in my own experts and show you that the mine’s production is at least on a par with every other mine on Lothal.”
“You could,” Arihnda agreed. “But you won’t. Would you like to know why?”
“I’m dying to find out,” he bit out sarcastically.
“One: Because Pryce Mining is too small to be worth a fight,” she said, counting off fingers. “You have other interests that pay much better, especially now that the doonium is gone. Two: Because every favor you burn on a worthless mine is a favor you can’t call in for something else. I know how you work. You can’t afford to waste favors on pride.”
She let her expression harden. “And three: The only way I could have obtained this governorship so young is if I have powerful friends and patrons. Very powerful friends…and after all your digging I dare say you still have no idea who they are. Until you do, you don’t dare raise a finger against me.”
For a long moment they stared at each other across the desk. Then, with another soft hiss, Renking inclined his head. “In that case, Governor, I believe our conversation is over.”
“I believe it is, Senator,” Arihnda agreed. “Good evening.”
She waited until he was gone from her office, and the doorwatch droids reported that he’d left the building. Then, keying the holo on her desk, she punched in a familiar number.
The display lit up with the triangular face, bright eyes, and lumpy headcrest of a female Anx. “Hello, Eccos,” Arihnda said. “This is Arihnda Pryce. How have you been?”
For a moment the eyes goggled. Then, abruptly, the Anx mining boss let loose a stream of Shusugaunt.
“Easy, Eccos, easy,” Arihnda said. “Basic, if you please—my Shusugaunt is quite rusty. Yes, I’m back; and yes, I’m still governor. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still work together. If you’re still in the business of making money, that is.”
“Of course,” Eccos said, the words barely understandable through her thick accent.
“Good,” Arihnda said. “You’re aware, of course, that Pryce Mining had a vein of doonium they were working. I presume you’re also aware that the vein has played out.”
“Yes, to both,” Eccos said, her voice heavy with regret. “It is very sad.”
“Not really, since we both know it isn’t true,” Arihnda said calmly. “I saw the report, and I know that the granite block that supposedly marked the end of the vein is nothing more than an intrusion. The doonium continues on the other side.”
“Really?” Eccos said, sounding surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Arihnda said. “Because you’ve been mining it.”
The wrinkled cheeks puckered with dismay. “Governor Pryce—”
“Don’t bother denying it,” Arihnda interrupted. “Because I’ve seen your numbers, too. The reason I called was to tell you that I’ve just shut down Pryce Mining. That means that starting tomorrow morning you can go full-bore on that vein without worrying that one of Renking’s stooges will hear your machines behind the granite.”
The cheeks puckered again, this time in the opposite direction. “I…do not know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Arihnda said. “Just get that doonium out and into processing.” She looked briefly at the map she’d pulled up on her datapad. “Depending on where the vein goes, we might need to relocate another farmer or two to get it out. Let me know if you need me to do that.”
“Yes, Governor Pryce,” Eccos said. “May you rest tonight in the warmth of your dreams.”
“And may you,” Arihnda said.
She keyed off, the sheer low-mind commonness of the traditional farewell grating across her ears and mind. She’d always thought Lothal painfully rustic, but life on Coruscant had seriously sharpened the contrast. She turned back to her computer.
And paused. Through the west-facing window, the sun was beginning to set.
For a moment she watched, thinking back to the evening when her mother was arrested and their lives had changed forever. At the time she’d thought how the people in big cities probably never saw the horizon or the sunset, and had wondered if they ever thought about such things. Or whether they even cared.
Arihnda had lived on Coruscant, in the galaxy’s ultimate big city.
And as she gazed out the window, she realized that she really didn’t care.
Keying the blinds closed, she turned her back on the distant horizon and got back to work.
—
The next few months were an unpleasant mix of frantic work, irritating dealings with the locals, and unrelenting tedium. Lothal was exactly as Arihnda remembered it: filled with backwoods humans, even more backwoods nonhumans, patterns of cronyism that often undercut the Imperial interests on the planet, and a social structure that provided no quality entertainment whatsoever.
The cronyism was the worst part. During her years away in the capital the Empire had steadily built up Lothal’s industries, expanded the mines, and gradually brought in more troops to oversee it all.