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Convarion’s face constricted, pulling flesh taut over his cheekbones. “I shot in response to contingencies I had worked out prior to our arrival. Alazhi was alone, which meant the other ships had already been captured and moved. Alazhi had been disarmed and damaged. Because it was surrounded by hostile snubfighters and was moving in conjunction with them, I had to assume it was under their control. I was aware of your policy of punishing collaborators, and I chose to implement it immediately. Punishment delayed is punishment stripped of connection with the crime that triggered it. While Xucphra Alazhi’s crew will not have a chance to learn from their mistake, other crew of other ships know the policy is not an idle threat.”

“So you chose to implement a policy without asking my permission?”

Convarion nodded. “I did.”

“And you are prepared to take full responsibility for doing so?”

A slight hesitation marked Convarion’s reply. “I am.”

The down-turned corners of Isard’s mouth rose. “Then you will execute the families of those crewmen on the Alazhi. We brought them with us in the shuttle.”

Color drained from Convarion’s face. “If that is your wish.”

“What I wish, Captain Convarion, matters not.” Isard strode toward him and plucked the rank cylinder from the right side of Convarion’s tunic “What I order is all that matters. What initiative you take must be within your mission parameters, it must not exceed them. Do you understand me?”

The naval man nodded, but Vorru detected a stiffness to his motion signifying resistance. Elements of the Imperial military had never accepted Isard’s de facto running of the government, which was why many of them proclaimed themselves Warlords and created their own little empires. Those who had remained loyal, either to her or the concept of the Empire, still could bristle when she gave orders.

Convarion’s head came up. “It is your order, then, Madam Director, that I kill the families of the crew of the Alazhi?”

Isard’s head briefly flicked toward Convarion, but Vorru doubted Convarion caught her slip. “That situation has been dealt with already and does not need your attention. I have another task for you. Minister Vorru, your briefing.”

Vorru pointed to the chair at the head of the table. “Please be seated, Captain Convarion. As you know, bacta is a precious fluid that is produced in limited amounts and only available from us, here, on Thyferra. All bacta in the galaxy is produced under our license and is sold with our approval. If you need bacta, there is only one place to get it.

“At least, that was the situation until Antilles and his people pirated the first convoy. What do you think they did with that bacta?”

“It is rather clear they didn’t sell it, since that is the obvious answer to the question.” Convarion shrugged reluctantly. “I have no idea what they did with it.”

“They gave it away. Much of it went to Coruscant, but we anticipated that.” Vorru pressed his hands flat against the tabletop. “Because they used our ships and our crews to transport the bacta, we know where it ended up. We have shorted future allotments to various worlds to make up for the bacta they were supplied by Antilles, and we have charged them for that bacta.”

Convarion’s expression eased. “And they have paid?”

“Some have. Some have refused to do so.” Vorru smiled. “This presents us with a problem.”

Isard leaned forward, posting her arms on the table. “If some do not pay, we appear weak and others might balk at paying us. If they do not pay, they are as much thieves as Antilles and his people.”

“So you have a policy you are going to order me to implement.”

“How perceptive of you, Captain.” Vorru nodded solemnly. “We have a list of the worlds that received stolen bacta. We have eliminated those worlds that have paid us, have made arrangements to pay us, or have sufficient resources to be able to pay us. We are left with a handful of target worlds that are too poor to afford the gift Antilles gave them. You will select one of them and take our bacta back.”

“And if there is no bacta to recover?