• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

On Coruscant, in the new office that had come with her unexpected appointment to the Advisory Council, Senator Viqi Shesh supervised the two labor droids she had tasked with rearranging the furniture.

“Turn the desk catercorner to the window,” she instructed them as she moved about the room.

The identical humaniform droids manipulated the hoversled on which the desk sat. When the desk was in place, they turned to her, seemingly eager to see her pleased by the results. But she wasn’t.

“No, no, all wrong,” Shesh said, shaking her head, then running a hand through her lustrous mane of ink-black hair. “Put the desk back where it was and move the conform chair beneath the window.”

The pair of droids looked crestfallen. “At once, Senator,” they responded in unison.

Shesh lowered herself into an antique armchair from her native Kuat and glanced around the office, smiling slowly as she took in the spacious room. Well-appointed without being ostentatious, the room enjoyed a breathtaking view of Commerce Way and the New Republic Obelisk. With a bit of work, it would become the most elegant chamber in the building, one that would make a lasting impression on all who entered.

Not bad for someone who had entered the political arena only six short years ago, Shesh told herself. But she had expected no less than this from the start, and she anticipated a great deal more in the coming years, despite the fact that her appointment to the Advisory Council had failed to meet with unanimous endorsement.

Several would-be political pundits had accused Chief of State Borsk Fey’lya of attempting to win the support of wealthy Kuat. Others had denounced Shesh for allowing herself to be seduced by power, and accused her of turning her back on the very things that had fueled her rapid rise. Under Fey’lya’s thumb—so the fretting went—what would become of her impassioned concern for the needy, her economic patronage of disenfranchised worlds, her outspoken praise for the Jedi Knights and all they stood for?

Shesh’s smile broadened as she considered the questions. In the end, they showed how mistaken everyone was about her, and how successful she had been in fostering illusions.

The office comm sounded. “Senator Shesh,” her secretary said, “Commodore Brand has arrived.”

Shesh glanced at her watch. “Admit him,” she answered.

She rose from the chair, smoothed the black skirt that sheathed her long legs, and ordered the labor droids out of the room. By the time Brand entered she was settled behind the desk.

“Commodore Brand,” she began, smiling and extending her hand across the desk. “How delightful to see you.”

A rigid, gloomy functionary, with the inward-turning gaze of one who sees only his own truth, Brand took off his cap, shook her hand as decorously as he could, and tried to make himself comfortable in the tight confines of the armchair.

Shesh gestured broadly to the office. “Excuse the mess. I’ve only just moved in.”

Brand’s eyes raced about. “Congratulations on being named to the council, Senator.”

Shesh feigned solemnity. “I only hope I can measure up to everyone’s expectations.”

Brand leaned forward. “War speeds the promotion of those best equipped to lead. I’m certain you will surpass everyone’s expectations.”

“Why, thank you, Commodore.” Shesh paused briefly. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

Brand cleared his throat meaningfully. “The Corellian situation, Senator.”

Shesh nodded. “The reenabling of Centerpoint Station. In my opinion, a judicious decision.”

“Then you’re not concerned about possible … repercussions?”

“An armed and dangerous Corellia, for example? Of course not. A well-defended Corellia benefits the entire Core.”

Brand regarded her for a long moment. “Yes. But what if I were to tell you that even more might be gained by inducing the Yuuzhan Vong to attack Corellia?”

Shesh raised an eyebrow. “Are you in fact telling me that, Commodore? Because if you are—and notwithstanding that I sit on the Security and Intelligence Council—I would be obliged