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This was bad. This was quite bad.

“Did your government send you?”

“No,” he said. “They would never stoop to begging. But if I presented them with a deal already worked out, they would take it. They would have to.” Again the chuckle. “And I would be the savior of my people.”

Lecersen gave him a slow, dark smile. “So you are acting alone. What’s to stop me from killing you right now?”

“I have cohorts of my own,” Mahlor replied. “If I do not meet them within an hour, they have orders to approach Bramsin and Treen with the same deal I am making you—and they, too, will tell others. So you’ll cooperate.”

“You know,” said Lecersen languidly, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if in consideration, “I don’t think I will.”

He pushed a button on the arm of the chair.

A droid entered immediately, but it wasn’t the amiable E-3PO. This was a gray skeleton, glowing red eyes staring out of its metallic skull, its mouth yawning open as it lifted its right arm. Integrated into the limb was a blaster cannon, and it was pointed straight at Mahlor’s midsection—a broad target indeed.

The Minyavish’s horrified reaction was quite gratifying. He shrank back against the chair, his eyes enormous as he stared at the sinister-looking YVH and the even more sinister weapon.

“No! You wouldn’t kill me!”

Lecersen nodded to the YVH.

The droid fired, and the Minyavish sprawled in the chair, limbs akimbo, head lolling.

Lecersen rose, lifting a hand to instruct the droid to lower its weapon, and stood staring down at the limp form.

“No,” he said, “I wouldn’t. Not yet, at least. Not until I know everything that you do.”

INDIGO TOWER RESTAURANT, CORUSCANT

“I’VE NEVER HEARD OF THIS PLACE,” SAID THE FLEDGLING SENATOR from B’nish, Kameron Suldar.

“That’s because I daresay you haven’t had the opportunity to travel much beyond your lodgings and the Senate Building,” said Senator Haydnat Treen. She beamed at him and patted his hand. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“It makes you successful?” He gave her a sly smile. Gracious, but he was a handsome fellow. Several years younger than she, of course, but with the gray hair and facial lines that told the world he was no callow youth. Much more appealing than Drikl Lecersen. And Treen did like surrounding herself with pretty things, and pretty people. But useful as she hoped he would be, Suldar was nowhere near becoming Emperor, and thus she would be nowhere near becoming Empress if she changed direction at this late point. She didn’t even know for certain if he would be amenable to joining their cause.

But Treen had not become a Senator from a planet of politically astute—some might say cutthroat—humans without being a superb judge of character. She was fairly confident that by the time they reached dessert and caf, he would be joining their merry little band bound for glory.

“No, dear boy, it makes you dull and hollow-eyed and unable to properly seize opportunities when they come your way.”

He gave her a smile, but his gaze sharpened, ever so slightly. “And tonight will present me with such an opportunity?” he asked, his voice light.

“There will certainly be an opportunity to have an exquisite dessert called Vagnerian canapés. There is often a debate as to what pairs best with them, but let me assure you, only plebeians drink Cassandran brandy with them. The two flavors do not complement each other, and the brandy should never be drunk simply to wash down a dessert. I would recommend simple black caf.”

He chuckled. “I yield the floor to your expertise, ma’am.”

“Then you are certain to go far. Oh … I do hope you like the color blue.”

The air limo pulled up to one of Coruscant’s most exclusive restaurants, the Indigo Tower. Modeled after the famous Skysitter Restaurant, it enjoyed fame based at least partially on the novelty of being a revolving dining room on a tower high above the Coruscanti skyline. Its exterior was made of shining, blue-black durasteel.

The chauffeur opened the doors for them, and Suldar shivered