Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(104)
“Yes,” Padmé said. “Duke Solha?”
For a moment the figure hesitated. Then, keeping his grip on his E-5, he lifted both hands and awkwardly pulled off his helmet.
It was the duke, all right. But not quite as she remembered him. Whereas the old Solha had had the look of someone whose ambitions and desires had been thwarted at every pass, this new Solha’s eyes and face were on fire, brimming with hope and purpose and anticipation. “So you remember me,” Solha said. “I’m impressed. So many in the Republic and Senate thought of me as a joke, or didn’t notice me at all.”
“That’s not true,” Padmé said carefully. Solha was clearly working with Dooku…but in any such alliance there was always a chance of persuading someone to change sides. She needed to stall him another few moments anyway; she might as well use that time to try to sow a few seeds of doubt. “You were seen as one of the quieter but more solid supporters of justice and order.”
“When they remembered my name, you mean?” Solha scoffed. “Well, that will change. After the final Confederacy victory, everyone will know my name.”
“I’m sure they will,” Padmé assured him. “I should warn you, though, that Dooku has promised victory any number of times, and somehow the Republic still manages to survive.”
“I hope you’ll remember that boast while you await trial for crimes against the Confederacy,” Solha said. “Once Dooku has an army of these droids”—he smiled slyly—“plus a couple of other surprises, your precious Grand Army will be doomed. If you’re lucky, maybe the count will allow the Republic to continue to exist. If not—” He shrugged again. “Either way, I imagine the most bothersome members of the government will be eliminated.”
“So I would assume,” Padmé agreed, throwing a surreptitious look at the south door. Still no sign of any droids. What was Solha waiting for? “Though as a professional politician, I have to tell you that raising the level of your threats at this point really isn’t productive.”
Apparently, the glance hadn’t been surreptitious enough. “If you’re waiting for my siblings and my droids to make their appearance, you’re looking in the wrong direction,” Solha said. “Some are still in the courtyard, making sure the stolen freighter your friends arrived on won’t be flying again, at least not anytime soon. The others”—he gave her an evil smile—“are even now making their way through the north wing. Once they’ve dealt with your friends, they’ll be coming through the other door over there—”
He broke off, sudden understanding on his face. “Of course,” he said. “Skywalker. I thought that freighter thief seemed familiar. But I couldn’t place the face. Oh, that’s unfortunate.”
“Why, because you’ve lost?” Padmé suggested. “Because I can offer you good terms if you surrender right now.”
“No, no,” Solha said. “It’s unfortunate because it means a great hero of the Republic will die here, unnoticed, with no one ever knowing what happened to him.” His face hardened. “As, of course, will you.”
The factory area in the north wing wasn’t so much an assembly line as it was an artisan’s studio—smaller, more crowded with tables, and filling only a single floor. But the work being done there was very familiar.
“So that’s why Solha was wearing clone trooper armor,” Anakin said as he and Thrawn stood beside a section of the assembly table. “They’ve got the same system going here as with the B2s.”
“Yes,” Thrawn murmured. “This is a puzzle, General.”
“How so?”
“You’ve stated that the battle droids being created in the east wing fight for the Separatists,” Thrawn said. “Yet this armor is worn by the clone troopers who fight for the Republic. Why would the Separatists want lightsaber-resistant armor for their enemies?”
“That’s obvious enough,” Anakin told him grimly. “Dooku must be planning a massive infiltration of the Republic forces.” He nodded at the rows of completed armor lined up on hooks along the center of the room. “In fact, right now he’s got almost enough to run roughshod over the whole Senate District.”
“The Separatists also have human soldiers?”
“They have enough to fill this many suits,” Anakin said. “In fact, that’s probably why Dooku has Solha running the factory in the first place. A Serennian-run operation, with Serennian troops in the armor, and Dooku will have first crack at the best Coruscant has to offer once he’s taken down the Senate.”
“And eliminated the Jedi, as well?” Thrawn suggested. “They’re the only ones in the Republic who use lightsabers, are they not?”
“They are,” Anakin confirmed, his throat tightening. “You’re right, armor like this would be perfect for attacking the Jedi Temple. If Dooku could destroy the Jedi and the Senate and maybe capture Chancellor Palpatine—”
He broke off as a sudden emotional flood rolled over him. “Padmé’s in trouble,” he said, turning and starting toward the door.
He stopped in midstride as Thrawn grabbed his arm. “No.”
“Let go,” Anakin said, snapping his arm free of the Chiss’s grip. Thrawn countered by half turning and getting a fresh grip on Anakin’s collar with the other hand. “I said let go.”