“Don’t you trust your searchers?” Shada asked, sitting down in the indicated chair. “Or your mistress, for that matter? Councilor Organa Solo already told you I wasn’t here to hurt anyone.”
The Noghri’s eyes seemed to blaze. “Why are you here?” Organa Solo asked calmly before the alien could speak.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Shada told her, settling her forearms along the chair’s armrests. “This was the only way I could do it.”
She’d expected an outraged denial, or at the very least a snort of derision. But the other woman merely lifted her eyebrows slightly.
Solo was less of a disappointment. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. His blaster, Shada noted, was in his lap, no longer pointed directly at her. But he still had a grip on it.
“It means that unless you’re someone with power or money, the corridors of the high and mighty are closed to you,” Shada told him, not particularly caring whether she sounded bitter or not. “I’ve been trying to call for the past three days, and no one would put me through. So much for the great and wonderful New Republic, friend of all the common people.”
“So what, you never heard of leaving a message?” Solo growled.
“A message that said what?” Shada countered. “That a nobody with no credentials or status wanted to talk to a great and glorious High Councilor? It would have been tossed out with the next clearing wipe.”
“You’re talking with me now,” Organa Solo said mildly. “What is it you want to say?”
Shada focused on her, the carefully rehearsed words seeming to stick in her throat Words that would slice through her last ties to the Mistryl, and her people, and her life. “I want to join you,” she said, her voice sounding hollow and distant in her ears. “I want to join the New Republic.”
For a painfully long moment the only sound in the room was the thudding of her own heart in her throat. It was, predictably, Solo who broke the silence. “You what?” he asked.
“I want to join the New Republic,” Shada repeated. The second time wasn’t any easier than the first. “I have a number of abilities you’ll find useful: combat and surveillance, escort and security-“
“Why are you asking us about this?” Solo interrupted, sounding bewildered. “The New Republic has recruitment centers all over Coruscant.”
“I don’t think you fully appreciate the situation here, Solo,” Karrde spoke up before Shada could reply. “Shada hasn’t just walked in off the street-or rather, dangled in off the roof. She’s chief bodyguard for our smuggler friend Mazzic.”
A ripple of surprise ran across the others’ faces. “Former bodyguard,” Shada corrected. “I resigned three weeks ago.”
Karrde cocked an eyebrow. “Your idea?”
Shada felt her throat tighten. “Not entirely.”
“I don’t see what difference it makes where she came from,” Solo persisted. We’re still none of us in the business of hiring.”
“Han’s right, Shada,” Organa Solo said, her eyes studying Shada’s face with an uncomfortable intensity. Had those Jedi techniques pulled the secret Mistryl connection from her mind? “There’s really nothing we can do for you.”
“I’m not asking for charity,” Shada bit out. “Frankly, you need me more than I need you. Especially with Thrawn on the loose again-“
“What do you know about Thrawn?” Solo asked sharply.
“I was in the back room just now,” Shada said. She glanced over at Karrde, caught the sudden tightening of his expression. “Calrissian implied be was back.”
She looked back at Organa Solo. “I also know about the Caamas Document,” she told the other woman. “And I know that the only way you’re going to get out of the mess you’re in is to get hold of an intact copy of it.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Calrissian throw a significant look at Karrde, a look the smuggler chief carefully ignored. “It would certainly help,” Organa Solo acknowledged. “What does this have to do with you?”
“You’re going to need help,” Shada told her. “I can supply it.”
“All by yourself?” Karrde murmured.
“Yes, all by myself,” Shada bit out. “You’ve seen me in action. You know what I can do.”
She looked back at Solo. “So do your people, though you might not know it,” she said. “Nineteen years ago on Tatooine I helped get you the technical readout for a prototype component of the second Death Star’s superlaser.”