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On his return to Pride of Yevetha, Nil Spaar’s first concern was to inspect his new breederies. There were three of them, each with forty-eight alcoves. Before the conversion, they had been detention blocks, and they still largely retained that character—the conversion had required surprisingly little renovation.

Picking cells at random, Nil Spaar satisfied himself that each was well suited for the hanging and nurturance of a birth-cask. The walls were plain and clean, the plumbing suitable for feeding lines, and the ventilation fully isolated from the systems for the rest of the ship. There were even individual drains in each alcove for the sacrifices and the rite of emergence.

The new breederies required a new crop of tenders, eighteen in all. After inspecting the new facilities, Nil Spaar had the tenders called together so that he could assess their fitness. Most were experienced hands who had known many successful nestings, but only a few had been neutered.

“Long before all these alcoves have been filled with ripening mara-nas, you will begin to feel the power of the breeding magic,” the viceroy warned. “The cry of the ancient imperatives of flesh and joy will become a distraction, then a compulsion. You must become immune to this call, lest you betray your solemn duty as custodians of the future.”

Nil Spaar gave no thought to giving them the option of withdrawing from his service. Service to the darama was an unequaled honor, and service aboard the grand flagship an unprecedented honor. It was unimaginable that any of the tenders would refuse those honors merely to preserve their own poor chance of parenthood. The breeding guildmaster of Giat Nor had made the recommendations and arranged for the affected households to receive replacements—that was all the consideration necessary.

After that, all that was left was to inspect the marasi who had been brought aboard to help Nil Spaar fill the new breederies. Chosen from the thousands who had offered themselves, the twenty young females waiting in what had once been detention block F were without exception appealingly supple, pleasingly eager, and understandably anxious.

Nil Spaar found the combination energizing, and indulged himself, selecting one of the marasi for a mating on the spot. By the time they were finished, the marasi in the adjoining cells were writhing with need in response to the scents and sounds, and a reinvigorated Nil Spaar took each of them in succession. When the third act was breathlessly complete, he called to the narada-ti, who had discreetly removed herself to a distance at which she could pretend not to have heard the passion-cries.

“This one,” he said, walking down the corridor, pointing into a cell at one still untouched. “And this one. Bring them to me in my chambers this evening, after the tolotan has been read.”

“Yes, darama,” she said, bowing with respect.

“When will the others be brought aboard?”

“The next group is expected in twenty days,” she said.

“Are there nest-quarters free?”

“Yes, darama, both here and in block G.”

“Then accelerate the selection,” said the viceroy. “Have the next group received as soon as it can be accomplished.”

“Yes, darama. Only, your senior tender cautioned that the mara-nas should be hung at intervals, out of consideration for the timing of the births and the demands on the breedery. Too many too close together—”

“That is not your problem,” he said. “Fill the nest-quarters with your best, and keep them filled.”

“Yes, darama.”

Only then did Nil Spaar return to make himself available to Tal Fraan, who had pestered Eri Palle with queries as to the viceroy’s schedule and pleas for an early audience. They met in the upper command lounge, a large semicircular compartment high on the forward face of the command tower. The command lounge’s double-shielded viewpanes provided a spectacular view of the Star Destroyer’s broad eight-kilometer-long spear-point hull.

“Is it not invigorating,” Nil Spaar said as Tal Fraan was led in, “to see how much power has passed