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“Your blood has always been strong, Nil Spaar, going back to when Kei chose you—but it has never been stronger than it is now.”

“I would rather have truth than flattery from my old friends,” said Nil Spaar. “Those who can remember the glory of our uprising are already too few in number. What news of my flagship?”

“Pride of Yevetha is fully ready,” said Dar Bille. “The holding chambers for the hostages have been completed, and the hostages are being loaded this very day. What is the prospect for more fighting? Has Jip Toorr reported from Preza?”

“He has,” said Nil Spaar. “His report is the reason I called for you. The vermin have not bared their necks or withdrawn. She who claims honor in her own name still defies us. In the last three days, the vermin fleet grew by at least eighty vessels. It has now dispersed into the boundary regions of the All, and our vessels there have lost contact with many of these intruders.”

“I am greatly surprised that they value the lives of their own species less than they valued the lives of the other vermin at Preza,” said Dar Bille. “Perhaps we do not hold whom we think we hold. Could Tig Peramis have deceived you, in league with the Princess?”

“No,” said Nil Spaar. “Han Solo is Leia’s mate and consort, and these are relations of great meaning to the vermin.”

“Perhaps she does not realize that we hold him,” said Tal Fraan. “Perhaps she does not realize that her actions place him at risk. Uncertainty has not made her cautious. Perhaps it is time to show them our hostages.”

Nil Spaar made a gesture that said the suggestion was premature. “Tell me what you have learned studying the prisoners.”

“They are uncomfortable with blood, even their own weak blood,” said Tal Fraan. “The aversion is strong enough to be a distraction, even in challenging moments. Beyond that, they have provided confirmation of suspicions I already held.”

“Indulge me and voice them.”

“They form alliances as child to parent—one world claiming the protection of a thousand,” Tal Fraan said. “They are divided, but they do not see it. They live in the long shadow of their own disharmony, and do not know to seek the light.”

“Is that their greatest weakness?”

That was a more dangerous question, and Tal Fraan hesitated before answering. “No,” he said. “Their greatest weakness is that they are impure. The strong do not slay the weak, and the weak do not yield their place to the strong. The pale vermin think of self first and kinship last.”

“And you find the evidence of this where?”

“It is why eight thousand Imperial slaves still serve us, and why these two prisoners remain in our hands. They fear death more than betrayal,” said Tal Fraan. “Any of the Pure would sacrifice himself before letting the warmth of his breath make him a traitor.”

“Dar Bille,” Nil Spaar said. “Do you agree with my young proctor’s appraisal? Are the guildsmen and tenders who serve on my flagship as eager to give themselves up as Tal Fraan declares?”

“It is true of many,” said Dar Bille. “But if your young proctor could speak with the late viceroy Kiv Truun, he would know it has never been true of all.”

The answer elicited a grunt and grimace of amused delight from the viceroy. “Mark well, Tal Fraan, how the truth is usually a good deal less certain than a willed belief,” said Nil Spaar. “Now, tell me—what is the greatest strength of the vermin?”

“It is as with all lesser species,” said Tal Fraan, who had anticipated the question. “Their strength is in their numbers. They overwhelm their worlds with their unclean fecundity. You saw yourself how their spawnworld is overrun with their soft, squirming bodies. If they acted in concert, as one kinhold, they could overwhelm us.”

“But they do not,” said Dar Bille.

“No,” said Tal Fraan. “Their great weakness undermines their great strength.”

“We will see that they do not learn how to be one kinhold,” said Nil Spaar.

“You succeeded most splendidly in that while on Coruscant,” said Dar Bille. “But they