At the far end of the cavern huddled two hostages, each bound with metal cuffs, each wearing finery that had been stained and torn during their abduction. Monarch Cassel of E’ronoh, a bright blue Pantoran, looked extremely nervous about his situation, which indicated more intelligence than Cassel was generally credited with. Next to him sat the tawny-skinned human Queen Thandeka of Eiram, who looked furious. Isamer could crush most humans without even trying, and Thandeka was a small woman—but he was grateful she had no blaster.

One of the lieutenants pointed toward Thandeka, specifically to the silvery coronet woven through her thick black braids. “She wears their crown—the manifest reported the queen was on board—”

“Yes.” Isamer folded his massive arms in front of his chest. “The queen consort was on board. The queen consort is the one who’s married to the ruler. On Eiram, the ruler is Queen Dima—the queen regnant. In other words, the useful one!”

“Oh, bosh,” said Monarch Cassel, amiably enough. “I’m certain the queen regnant wants her consort back. That’ll do, won’t it, for, ah, leverage?”

Under her breath, Thandeka muttered, “What are you playing at? Do you think you can team up with them?”

“Goodness, no.” Cassel seemed appalled at the thought. “But—hearing them describe you as useless, it’s rather impolite—”

“You’re trying to spare my feelings?” Thandeka looked toward the cave ceiling in what might have been either disbelief or despair. “Trust me, right now my ego is the least of our problems.”

Isamer had ignored all this. “We will discuss it no further,” he said. There would be time to punish these lieutenants—and find smarter replacements—after this was done. For now he could only stay the course.

The Hutts would expect no less.

They had approached Isamer, as one of the leaders of the Directorate. The mighty Hutts had come to him! With the Directorate’s greater local knowledge, they explained, he was in a better position to destabilize the local governments. That destabilization would play to the Hutts’ long-term advantage—an advantage they would share with those who had helped them.

Isamer could see it: the Directorate, empowered as partner to the Hutts, eclipsing every other criminal organization in that part of the galaxy. It was worth more than a little risk.

“Lord Isamer!” one of the sensor jockeys called. “A T-1 shuttlecraft has emerged from hyperspace, seventy radii distance.”

Isamer’s fur stood on end in anticipation. His fanged smile widened as he said, “Call to them from Cassel’s ship.” The wreckage of that ship lay broken across the planetoid’s surface, but his lieutenants had managed to salvage the communications array. At least they got one thing right. “Plead for their help. Lure them in.”

Cohmac pulled himself from a daydream, mentally repeating, Focus.