Free Star Wars: The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance by Sean Williams

that was all the Supreme Commander wanted
from his aides. A true meritocracy, however, would have demanded much
more from its citizens.

    "Indeed
not!" Stantorrs exclaimed. "When every world in the
Republic, from the outlying settlements to the Core itself, is crying
poverty, to let a possible source of resources slip through our
fingers would be a public relations disaster, not to mention a
setback for galactic security. "

    "When
the Mandalorians are involved, " said another aide, "it's
often a security issue. "

    "Indeed.
And that's why I've decided to pursue this, publicly and politically,
to ensure that it can't come back on us later. "

    The
martial rhythm of the Supreme Commander's tapping put Ula on edge.
Give it a rest, he wanted to yell at them. It's a smokescreen, a
distraction from the real issue-the cold war you re losing! The Hutts
are exploiting and feeding your paranoia at the very same time. Don't
you see how gullible this makes you all look?

    So
wound up was he in his internal dialogue that he almost didn't hear
the Supreme Commander's next words.

    "That's
why I've decided to send you, Ula, to Hutta as an official envoy of
the Republic. "

    Ula's
thoughts hit the roadblock of that pronouncement and formed a
five-skylane pileup.

    "You-what,
sir?"

    "I
need someone to investigate and, if necessary, negotiate on our
behalf. Not someone senior-we don't want the Hutts thinking we're too
interested-and not someone from the military, either, since this is a
political matter. We need someone informed and dedicated, and the
reports you filed last night indicate that you are nothing if not
both. Ula, I want you on the first available shuttle. "

    The
other aides stared at him with undisguised envy as Ula tried to find
a way out of the situation.

    "I'm
flattered, sir, but..."

    "Your
portfolios are already full, I know, but there's nothing you can't
delegate. And if it's security you're worried about, I've
requisitioned a full detail. We can't afford to lose someone of your
abilities, Ula. "

    Ula
swallowed. Stantorrs had shot down his two major objections in little
more than one breath. While it was indeed pleasing that the Supreme
Commander afforded him such trust, what use was he as an informer in
the wrong sector of the galaxy? He needed to be here, in the office,
not mucking around with filthy Hutts and potentially coming under
fire.

    The
gang war that had led to Stantorrs hearing about the Cinzia would be
just a minor skirmish if the ship's home was as valuable as the Hutts
said it was. Of that Ula was certain, and he was an informer, not a
soldier, for a reason. He liked fighting as little as he liked being
in the spotlight. He simply wasn't trained for that kind of thing.

    There
seemed no way to escape it, though, so he accepted with all the grace
he could muster.

    "Excellent.
I know I can rely on you, Ula. Off the record, I'll expect you to
keep a sharp eye out for Jedi, of course. Satele Shan says she'll
take no official action, but I don't trust her. You know the major
players, don't you? You see one of them, you let me know. "

    Ula
nodded. "I will, sir. "

    "And
if there's any substance to the Hutts' claims, report immediately.
I'll have a fleet on standing orders to offer the world protection
from the Empire. "

    "Yes,
sir. " Like anyone with any political savvy, Ula knew that
"protection" was something many worlds simply did not want,
for fear of the so-called protectors pillaging natural resources and
talent. Also, the mere presence of a Republic cruiser, let alone a
Jedi, was likely to draw the wrath of the Sith, who could be even
worse. "What if it's nothing?"

    "Then
we've lost nothing, and you get to keep your promotion. "
Stantorrs stood and held out his hand. "I'm elevating you to
senior aide, effective immediately, and appointing you as acting
envoy to the Bareesh Cartel. Congratulations, Ula. "

    Ula
shook the Supreme Commander's hand but barely registered the
soldierly crush of the strong