But not everyone was happy with the planet’s new direction. The old leaders and families resented the slow erosion of their power, and they weren’t quiet about lining up their friends, associates, and everyone else within their web of influence to denounce the New Order. The Imperial response had been predictable: repression of speech and curtailment of freedoms, followed by business as usual.
Part of that business involved moving farmers off their land, sometimes to establish a new factory or military facility, more often to enhance mining operations. Naturally, the farmers complained about the forced relocation and drew their friends into the quarrel, occasionally to the point of violence.
It was a pointless argument. Lothal had more than enough cropland for its purposes, and in fact was still a net exporter of foodstuffs. The relative handful of lost farms was negligible. But the displaced farmers seldom saw it that way, and the offer of jobs in factories or mines was usually rejected out of hand.
Still, despite the complaints of a small minority, the work continued to progress. Those who had claimed that the new development would create jobs and prosperity were vindicated. Those who had decried the heightened Imperial presence and preached doom were reduced to quiet muttering.
But not all the threats were internal. Arihnda had been on Lothal three months when an unexpected danger quietly reared its head.
—
“Yes, Your Excellency, I noticed this report a few days ago,” Minister Tua said, frowning in confusion at the page Arihnda had pulled up on her computer. “I don’t see why it’s a problem.”
“Don’t you,” Arihnda said darkly. For all Tua’s expertise at managing Lothal’s industrial infrastructure, the woman was utterly blind in certain matters. “The governor of Kintoni is offering to expand her military-grade landing and maintenance facilities, and you don’t see why that’s a problem?”
“No, Your Excellency,” Tua said, looking more confused than ever. “I would think the more naval presence we have in the area, the better. With all the pirates and smugglers—”
“We don’t want an enhanced naval presence in this area,” Arihnda ground out. Did the woman understand nothing? “We want an enhanced naval presence on Lothal. Do you understand? Only on Lothal.”
Tua shrank back into her chair, her eyes wide with surprise and fear. Good. “Your Excellency—”
“We want Lothal to be the center of this part of the Outer Rim,” Arihnda said quietly. Somehow, the softer tone seemed to frighten Tua more than the outburst had. “That means industry, mining, commerce, expanded youth and military academies…and a powerful navy presence to maintain it all. If Kintoni starts drawing away our ships, everything else will follow.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you want to live on Lothal the way it was, Minister Tua? Or do you even remember that far back?”
With a visible effort, Tua found her voice. “I understand, Your Excellency. But…”
“But you don’t see what we can do about it,” Arihnda said, suddenly disgusted. All of Tua’s offworld schooling, and yet here she was drifting back to thinking like a native. That is, barely at all. “I’m leaving immediately for Coruscant,” she said, blanking the display and standing up. So much for settling in permanently. “You’ll be in charge until I return.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Tua said, belatedly getting to her feet. “Ah…may I ask how long you’ll be gone?”
“Until I finish this,” Arihnda said. “One way or another.”
—
“I’m sorry, but Grand Moff Tarkin isn’t on Coruscant at the moment,” the receptionist at Tarkin’s office said, her voice polite but vacant. “If you wish, I can send him a message.”
“No need,” Arihnda said. She hadn’t really expected Tarkin to be here, but it had been worth a try. “Just add a note to whatever you next send him that Governor Arihnda Pryce of Lothal sends her greetings.”
“Yes, Governor.”
So she didn’t recognize Arihnda, either by face or by name. Not surprising, really. There were thousands of governors in the Empire, and no one could be expected to memorize even a tenth of them.
Still, Arihnda had hoped.
The airspeeder’s holocomm was blinking a waiting call when she returned. She glanced at the ID, smiled to herself, and keyed it. “This is Governor Arihnda Pryce,” she identified herself to the uniformed man who answered. “I’m returning a call from Commodore Thrawn.”
“One moment, Governor.” The display blanked. A minute later, Thrawn’s familiar blue face and red eyes appeared. “Ms. Pryce,” Thrawn said, inclining his head toward her in greeting. “Rather, I should say, Governor Pryce.”
“Thank you for returning my call, Commodore,” Arihnda said, deciding not to make an issue of the slip. She was familiar enough with Thrawn’s lack of grace in social and political matters to know it hadn’t been a deliberate insult. Besides, it was never a good idea to berate someone who was—hopefully—about to be useful. “Have you had a chance to look over the proposals I sent you?”
“I have,” Thrawn said, lowering his eyes to something off-screen. “If I understand correctly, you want my opinion as to whether Lothal or Kintoni would be the better location for an expansion of the navy’s presence in that part of the Outer Rim.”
“That’s correct,” Arihnda said, mentally crossing her fingers. Against her natural instincts she’d discarded her original plan to subtly weigh the data and proposals in Lothal’s favor. Thrawn might detect such manipulation, and that would be the end of any chance to get him on her side. “Obviously, I have an interest in this matter, but I tried to present the choice in as fair a manner as possible.”
“And so you did, Governor,” Thrawn acknowledged, his eyes still focused off-screen. “I took the liberty of confirming your notes and maps through the navy archives. Your presentation was remarkably evenhanded.”
“Thank you,” Arihnda said, feeling a shiver run up her back. Just as well she hadn’t tried to slant it. “Your conclusion?”
“Both systems offer advantages,” Thrawn said, finally looking back up at her. “But if I had to choose one, I would choose Lothal.”
Arihnda exhaled silently. “Thank you, Commodore,” she said. “May I quote you when I make my presentation to the High Command?”
“No need, Governor,” Thrawn said. “I have worked up a full analysis that includes my conclusions. I can send it to you now, if you like.”
“I would indeed,” Arihnda said. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” he assured her. “I always stand ready to assist the Imperial navy in any way I can. Is there anything more?”
“Not at this time, Commodore,” she said. “Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again soon. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Governor.”
It took a few moments for the report to load, first to her airspeeder and then to a data card. Arihnda watched the progress, running it all through her mind. With Thrawn’s blessing in hand, there was only one person yet she needed to see before she would be ready to take her case to the High Command.
And there was a reason she’d put this contact last on her list. Securing the data card in her pocket, she took a moment to mentally prepare herself. Then, joining the traffic flow, she headed across the center of the Federal District toward a familiar—a far too familiar—place.
The office of Senator Domus Renking.
—
“I hardly expected to see you here today,” Renking commented stiffly as he ushered Arihnda to a chair. Still seething over his loss of Pryce Mining, Arihnda guessed, but still not ready to try a countermove against her. “I heard you were on Coruscant, but assumed you’d be spending your time with all those powerful friends and patrons you once threatened me with.”
“Social calls can wait,” Arihnda said, pulling out a data card. “I presume you’ve heard about Kintoni’s request for a larger navy presence in their system?”
“Of course,” Renking said, frowning as he sat down behind his desk. “So?”