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“In turn,” she said, “we would like some assurance that your invasion is nearly complete. Surely you can provide your people with homes and sustenance now. Leave us the worlds that remain. We must learn to live alongside each other. In … peace.”

His eyes narrowed, and he wondered if the tizowyrm had translated something incorrectly. Peace flowed from a submissive underling to a conqueror, never in both directions.

“Our ultimate need,” he said, “is the system you have prepared. For that, receive thanks.” From Duro, he could neutralize the famous Drive Yards in her home system of Kuat, as well as the monstrous weapon at Corellia—but she had been told nothing about these plans. “You have assured me you will set agents to work sabotaging Centerpoint.”

The villip inclined itself again. “As soon as it can be done. Thanks also for your gift of the ooglith masquers. I enjoy traveling unrecognized. I might hope,” she added in a lighter voice, “that the masking and unmasking process becomes less uncomfortable over time.”

He saw no reason to coddle her. The sharp sensation of each pseudopod piercing a pore was a vital part of the masquers’ function. “No,” he said.

Her left eye twitched. She hadn’t yet accepted the discipline of pain.

“You are to be praised,” he told her, “for helping bring about a lasting peace for your people. Your role will be widely honored, among us and your own folk.”

“But not until peace comes.” She raised her weirdly mobile eyebrows. “Promise me that.”

Was she learning humility, or was she simply afraid of how her exaltation would come about? She had every reason to fear. He would want native rulers for his slave population, but the gods needed worthy sacrifices. Sunulok’s priestess, Vaecta, was bloodthirsty on their behalf.

Perhaps this woman simply didn’t want her people to know she’d changed loyalty. “Your villip will invert again now. Remember to care for it.” Ending with the insult of extra words was an appropriate way to chastise her.

The villip spoke again, though. “Wait, Warmaster Lah. I have new information.”

He waited.

“It concerns my SELCORE operation at Duro. I learned today there is a Jedi at one settlement who has sworn off using his abilities. Maybe you can make use of him.”

This matched what he’d heard from Nom Anor and other agents. The young one had allegedly abandoned his comrades in arms. Tsavong Lah could hardly imagine such treachery. Though such an individual did not deserve the dignity of having his name reported, he might prove useful if dissected.

“Have you learned anything else you should report?”

The villip remained silent for several seconds. Eventually, she said, “I dislike delivering individuals, but as I told your agent Pedric Cuf, I am a businesswoman.”

That was not additional information. Tsavong Lah laid a hand over his villip, silencing it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jacen woke up clenching his hands so tightly they hurt.

He rolled away from the sleeping hut’s wall and peered toward his dad’s comm unit, on a stack of mud blocks at the foot of his cot. Something had been flung over the chrono, and he could see only a pale-red glow.

The night felt old, though. Old and deadly.

He sat upright, shut his eyes, and tried measuring the feeling. Under his uncle’s tutelage, he’d worked on developing his danger sense. It had saved him in several tight situations. If those had been flickers, this was a full-fledged conflagration. It occurred to him that he didn’t hesitate to use the Force this way, not in the least.

I’m just listening. There’s nothing aggressive about it. He threw on the nearest clothes and slipped outside. Along the dusty lane, he eyed the next hut for those mysterious worms. Several days earlier, the youngsters had stopped bringing them in. They couldn’t find any more. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

He found Jaina several huts down. Nothing was obviously threatening her, so he scratched that danger off his mental list. Silently, he