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“Close the hangar-bay doors,” Daala said. “Send a slicer team to drain the prisoner’s computer core for information. We need maps, history tapes. We have too much to learn.”

“Didn’t you just order General Odosk and his special crew to board the ship?” Kratas said.

Daala frowned sharply at him. “They have other orders. You follow yours.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Kratas said in a small voice.

“Bring the captain of the Corvette to the interrogation chambers. We may need to encourage a bit of truthfulness.” Kratas nodded and walked briskly off the bridge.

The door of the grim interrogation room sighed open with a discouraging hiss. When Daala entered, she was disappointed to see the captured captain: a short, mouse-faced Sullustan with thick rubbery jowls hanging around a weak chin. His great glassy eyes, pitch-dark and glittering, reminded her of the black holes in the Maw cluster.

The Sullustan captain jabbered in a panic, his lips wet with foaming drool. Beside him marched an old-model chrome protocol droid that served as his translator. The droid moved arms and legs with humming, ratcheting motivators as if its computer brain was so scrambled it could no longer control all of its systems at once.

The droid spoke in a brusque female voice. “Admiral! I’m so glad we’ve finally been brought to someone in charge. Can we straighten out this difficulty? We have done nothing wrong.”

Beside the droid, the Sullustan captain pushed on the tight skin-cap covering his sloping head. He jabbered away with a monotonous blub-blub-blub.

The droid translated, “Captain T’nun Bdu demands an explanation—” The Sullustan babbled in alarm and clutched the platinum arm of the droid. “Correction, the captain respectfully requests that you be so kind as to explain your actions. Please tell us if there is anything he can do to avoid a diplomatic incident, as he has no wish to initiate any conflict.”

The Sullustan captain nodded vigorously. A froth of saliva collected on his lips and ran in runnels between his flappy jowls.

“Wipe your chin,” Daala said. She looked at the horrendous interrogation chair strapped in the shadows of the room. The walls were covered with unfinished iron plates, held in place by large blocky bolts. Stains marked various places that had not been cleaned after earlier interrogations. The chair itself had angled pipes and tubing, restraints, chains, spikes, most of which served no purpose other than to increase a victim’s terror.

“What we would like from the captain right now,” Daala said, turning back as if ignoring the chair, “is some information. Perhaps you can provide it to us without our needing to resort to any … unpleasantness.”

The captain flinched in terror. The platinum female droid shifted from foot to foot and then seemed to reach a decision. The droid looked with apparent adoration at the Sullustan captain and then straightened herself and spoke in a clear, unfluttered voice. “Admiral, I can provide that information. There is no need for you to torture my captain.”

The Sullustan blub-blub-blubbed again, but the droid seemed not to hear. “We are on a mission to provide supplies and new living units for a small colony on the planet Dantooine. The colony is not affiliated with the Rebellion as of this moment. The colonists are harmless refugees.”

“How many are in this colony?” Daala asked.

“Approximately fifty, taken from the old mining outpost Eol Sha. They are not presently armed.”

“I see,” Daala said. “Weil, Captain, we must liberate your assets. I believe that the cargo hold of a Corellian Corvette routinely carries provisions for up to a year without restocking. I am commandeering those provisions for the service of the Empire. This colony on Dantooine will have to get their supplies some other way.”

The Sullustan chittered in dismay, and Daala skewered him with a glare. “Perhaps, Captain, you would like to step outside the airlock and file a complaint?”

The Sullustan shut up instantly.

The door of the interrogation chamber sighed open again, revealing two stormtrooper