[Republic Commando] - 03(95)

I’m not stupid, Kal.

But they had something she wanted, too, and it wasn’t just Ordo. She wanted a share of their closeness, that belonging and camaraderie, and an end to feeling she was on the outside of life.

She thought suddenly of Fi, and how-so Ordo said-he knew there was a complete element missing from his existence, and he resented it. She at least knew what hers was, and where she might get it.

But there was also the lure of a wrong to be righted, and she knew she wasn’t alone in that. Senator Skeenah from Chandrila was getting very vocal about the Grand Army’s conditions and clone rights. He might prove to be a handy excuse for investigating further.

Her private comlink stared back at her from the palm of her hand, daring her to choose between calling Ordo and contacting the Senator. Still scared that she might call while Ordo was gambling whether to cut a red wire or a blue one as a detonator counted down, she sent him a delayed message instead. He could choose when and if he wanted to read it.

I hope you enjoyed the cake. What else could she say? She had no idea who else might see it, secure link or not. You have to try my home cooking when you get back. She could imagine Ordo reading it with a frown, taking it at face value, while Mereel-who seemed to be leading a totally different life, and relishing it-would have given her a knowing grin.

Besany sent the message with a click of her thumbnail on the keys, then tapped in the-code for the Senate switchboard.

No point leaving an audit trail on the office link, just in case. He’s a known antiwar activist. They’ll be watching him-whoever they might be.

Senator Skeenah’s administrative droid made an appointment for her to meet him later that day, which indicated just how few lobbyists were courting a man who opposed the war, and asked if she preferred “off site.”

“I’m at the Treasury building,” she said. Visiting the Sen-ate was routine for a government employee; it would draw less attention than a meeting in a tapcaf or restaurant. She’d be picked up on any of a dozen security holocams as she moved around Galactic City, and even by the surveillance satellites that kept watch over Coruscant. “I’ll come to his office.”

On the way to the meeting, sitting in the back of an air taxi, she felt that the small blaster in her pocket was visible to the whole planet. She didn’t even know what type it was. It was a smart dark blue with a stubby green-gray barrel and a little red light that showed it was charged, quite a pretty object. When she peered at the engraved plate on the butt-she was sure the end of the grip was called that-she could see the words MERRSONN.

“Lady, you’re making me nervous,” said the taxi driver. “You going to assassinate someone?”

Besany hadn’t realized he could see that far over the back of the seat, but there was a lot she didn’t know about the visual field of a Rodian’s faceted eyes. She slid the blaster off her lap and back into her pocket.

“I mix with unsavory characters,” she said.

Taxi drivers had an opinion on everything. “Senate’s full of them… they’re called politicians.”

She thought that way, too, but then realized she’d never actually met one socially. Where did she get that idea? From the holonews? From the courts? The power of stereotypes was astonishing. She wondered how she could ever gain any headway in making Coruscanti see the anonymous troopers fighting the war for them as living, breathing men.

She couldn’t even say they were all someone’s son or husband or father or brother. They were utterly outside of society. The size of the task almost crushed her.

One step at a time, girl. Do what you can.

Senator Skeenah met her in one of the cell-like private interview rooms kept for Senators to meet members of the public. He was much more ordinary than she’d imagined, not terribly well dressed, but he had an earnest passion that hit her like a tidal wave. Another stereotype crashed and burned.

“Of course I’m concerned about what happens to these men,” he said. “Whatever other member planets might do, Coruscant hasn’t tolerated slavery in millennia. It’s intolerable that we adopt it now simply because it’s expedient. But I’m a lone voice.”

Besany took it carefully. “I’m having some difficulty identifying medical provision for the Grand Army, Senator. I can identify expenditure on what I think are medcenter facilities, but it’s not… let’s say the audit trail isn’t transparent.”

That careful comment meant a great deal in political code if the listener wanted to interpret it. Skeenah seemed to. “Yes, I’ve asked repeatedly about casualties-the medical field units are woefully inadequate, and I can’t find out what happens to those killed in action. To the best of my knowledge, the bodies aren’t recovered. There’s no heroes’ return for these poor men. So if you see large sums allocated to clone welfare, I can assure you there’s no sign of it being used to that end.”