[Hand Of Thrawn] - 01(135)

***

“I’m sorry,” the screening system at the other end of the comm said in its maddeningly pleasant mechanical voice. “Communication with the residence you request is restricted. I cannot connect you without a proper authorization code.”

“Tell Councilor Organa Solo that it’s an emergency,” Shada said, putting the most intimidating official tone into her voice that she could as she gazed out the tapcafe window at the Solos’ Incom T-81, sitting there on the Orowood Tower’s third-floor landing pad. “I’m calling under the authorization of Admiral Drayson of New Republic Intelligence.”

The screening system remained unfazed. “I’m sorry, but I cannot connect you without a proper authorization code,” it repeated.

Grimacing, Shada keyed the comm off. That had been the last verbal gambit in her repertoire, and it bad done nothing but get her the same runaround. The same thing every time she tried, and she was beginning to get very tired of it.

She’d tried the polite, official way first: calling Councilor Organa Solo’s office at the Imperial Palace and-when the screeners there wouldn’t let her through, either-trying to get into the massive governmental building itself. But with no official status or business or connections to call on, she’d bit meter-thick transparisteel walls at every turn. She’d tried calling the Solos’ main home outside the palace next, with the same results. And now she’d tried to get through to them at their Manarai Mount ain retreat, again with no luck

And with each rebuff, her obviously idealized vision of the New Republic had crumbled a little bit more. She’d hoped they would have more to offer her than the life with the Mistryl that she’d just turned her back on. It was starting to look more and more like she’d been mistaken.

But there was nothing to do now but continue what she’d started. If for no other reason than that there was nowhere left for her to go.

So all right. She’d tried it the polite way and gotten nowhere. Now she would try it the Mistryl way.

The Tower’s second-floor shopping complex was quite extensive, and it took her no more than five minutes to collect the three items she needed. One minute after that, armed with a length of brocaded white ribbon, a cheap datapad, and a bottle of equally cheap but awesomely strong dodbri whiskey, she was in the -turbolift heading up.

it would be a short ride, she knew, but she already had the details mapped out in her mind and set to work with no wasted motions. Popping the cap off the whiskey, she splashed a little of the potent concoction onto the collar of her slightly bedraggled ankle-length dress and then sipped a little into her mouth. Wincing at the tingle, she swished it around while she poured the rest of the bottle into the decorative flower boxes that ran around the upper part of the car. She spat her mouthful back into the bottle, glad to be rid of it, then turned her attention to the ribbon. The traditional Coruscant wedding hairbow was tricky to tie, but she knew a variant that was quick and simple and looked enough like the real thing to fool anyone but an experienced observer.

By the time the doors opened onto the Tower’s rooftop observation deck, she was ready for her performance. Bottle clutched in one hand, datapad in the other, she stepped out of the car and H threw a casual and calculatedly unsteady look around. No one was visible among the deserted tables and chairs and decorative shrubbery. But then, the group of personal guards that surrounded Councilor Organa Solo seldom were. Getting a fresh grip on her bottle, she set off in a staggering walk for the edge of the roof.

The guard she knew had to be there hadn’t made his appearance by the time she reached the chin-high latticework guardrail set into a solid knee-high base. “So fine, Ravis,” she muttered to herself in a slurred and despondent voice as she dropped the bottle and datapad onto the roof beside the guardrail. “You don’ wanna, huh? Fine. I can get outta your life’, if tha’s what you wan’. I can get all the way out-“

She broke off with a single underplayed sob. Digging her fingers into the holes of the lattice, she pressed herself against the barrier and twisted her head sideways to peer over and down at the ground below, her senses alert. There was a single whisper of sound from behind her, and then nothing.

So they were going to need more from her before they made any move. Fine; she could oblige them. Extracting her fingers from the guardrail, continuing to sob softly under her breath, she retrieved the datapad and set it down on a nearby chair, propping it up to be clearly visible. With slightly fumbling fingers she pulled the wedding bow out of her hair, kissed it theatrically, and placed it down in front of the datapad. She took another moment to carefully arrange the two items together; then, squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and stepped back to the roof edge. Gripping the lattice again, she climbed up onto the base and swung one leg over the top of the guardrail.