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Jag suspected he might be right, but said nothing.

“I languished, largely ignored and forgotten. I really have no idea why Daala singled me out. My forces aren’t that considerable or sophisticated, but I suppose she’s simply trying to gather as many allies as possible—if only so that there are fewer who support you.”

“So she is swapping Chief of State for Head of State as her preferred title?”

“I imagine she’d prefer Empress,” Getelles said. There was sufficient resignation and bitterness in his words and demeanor that Jag believed him.

“So she added you to her list. I’ll want to follow up on that, but right now I’d like to ask about this.” He indicated the vial. “I know you know what it is.”

Getelles narrowed his eyes and took another swig. “I know,” he muttered. “It was the one area we were making progress. Where we weren’t in last place—the sciences.”

“The sciences of life and death,” Jag said. “My source tells me that many of the scientists who created the nanovirus targeting Tenel Ka and the Fett genetics have quietly gravitated to Antemeridias. What’s this made of, Tol?”

He didn’t answer. Jag shrugged and started to open the vial.

“No!” Getelles moved startlingly swiftly for an elderly man, seizing Jag’s wrist. Jag raised his eyebrows and gazed pointedly at Getelles’s hand. Slowly, Getelles released him.

“Thank you for confirming the nature of the serum,” Jag said. “Obviously it is highly valuable.”

“You know what it can do,” Getelles said. “Damn rodents. If I had known the scientists were experimenting on Squibs—”

“You harm one hair on their bodies and I will come for you so fast and so hard, you’ll wish I were a Mando,” Jag promised, his voice calm. Getelles paled visibly, but recovered.

“You sound like Daala. Perhaps there isn’t such a difference between you two after all.”

The droids hummed to life and the second course was served: blue and purple and white vegetable chunks with a spicy green sauce. It was delicious, but Jag ate without savoring it. Getelles’s enjoyment of the meal, too, seemed subdued.

When the droids returned to their corners and shut down again, Jag continued.

“You spoke out against Daala even before she escaped,” Jag said. “You obviously do think there’s a difference between the two of us. What changed your mind?”

Getelles eyed him, and then shrugged. “Her offer, combined with the escape of the Squibs with my serum, changed my mind,” he said. “Frankly, Jag, it’s one thing to ally with you when Daala’s in jail. It’s another when she’s in your sector, with an old grudge against you, in a position to either wipe the floor with you or elevate you higher than you ever dared dream.”

Jag could appreciate the position Getelles was in. “I see your point. I think she actually picked you because you had spoken out against me. Because I wouldn’t think of you as someone who would betray me to work with her.”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Getelles admitted. “I was supposed to get you to trust me, then turn on you at the last moment.”

“You do understand that I have you on so many charges, you might not live long enough to stand trial for them all,” Jag said, refreshing Getelles’s glass. “Treason, illegal drug experimentation, possession of droch material—”

“Oh, I do, believe me.”

“How’d you like the charges dropped?”

Getelles raised a gray eyebrow. “If I threw my lot in with you?” Jag nodded. Getelles inclined his head toward the small vial. “What about that vial?”

“This vial?”

Getelles frowned. “Yes, that vial, right there. I want that as part of the bargain.”

Jag frowned, then sighed. “All right,” he said. “You’ve got it.”

“And Jagged Fel, you foolish innocent,” Getelles said, sighing as he pulled out a blaster, “I’ve got you.”

He fired.

Jag Fel toppled to the floor.

“Did you get all this, Admiral?” Getelles said, speaking into a small recording device carefully inserted under the rather saggy skin of his throat.

“I did indeed,” she said. “You took a few cheap shots, but you made the