Kirk had seen Sepak outside Sulu’s office, so he knew he would find Spock inside. But he was surprised to see Marlena also seated at Sulu’s desk. His eyes flickered across each of the faces that turned to him with the customary salute. Marlena was smiling, her eyes full of hope. Spock was his usual calm, but there was eagerness just below the surface. Sulu’s eyes challenged him for a second before dropping to stare at the deck. That made Kirk smile. He addressed himself to Spock.
“Caros,” he said.
A curt nod. “Possibly.”
“A key, at any rate,” Marlena told him. “We need you to help with the details.”
Kirk looked back at Sulu. The Security Chief shrugged. “She means it,” he assured. His tone was matter of fact, but his eyes were veiled.
Kirk scowled. “This had better be good.”
“It is simple, and that, perhaps, makes it good,” Spock said as Kirk took a seat.
“We ask the Draco miners to trust us,” Marlena stated. Kirk couldn’t keep the disdainful skepticism from his face.
“Is that all? That’ll take care of everything?”
“Consider,” Spock returned. “The miners are rebelling against Imperial control. They want less strict rule. If we find a way to give it to them...”
“Why?” Kirk interrupted.
“They would then be loyal to us, as Halkan miners are. We should not discard any opportunity for additional resources. The only question is, how to accomplish this within the parameters of our orders from Fleet.”
“We do have Fleet’s best tactician here,” Marlena put in, and Kirk was flattered, even with the lack of subtlety.
“I thought I suggested you didn’t bother me with this until you had a solution,” he commented dryly.
“We won’t have one without you.” The words came from Sulu, and Kirk caught Spock’s surprise. The Vulcan might not understand it, but Kirk sure as hell did. Sulu’s grin was obviously calculated, an attempt to hide the conspicuous groveling he was doing. “I’m too young to die, Captain.”
“Sulu is quite correct,” Spock rejoined. “We need your military expertise.”
“Thank you for your confidence,” Kirk sneered pleasantly. He stood. “If that’s all...”
“Jim, please, it’s our only chance!” Marlena broke in. “Draco will have to trust us. What have they got to lose? If they don’t, we have to destroy them, they know that. But if they do, it’s their only chance.”
“Trust us - to what? What will we do once they ‘trust’ us?”
“That is what we need to decide,” Spock said patiently. He took an almost unnoticeable breath. “Jim - please. I, too, feel too young to die.”
Kirk stared, unmoved. “What, precisely, do you expect me to do?” he said. He let his gaze meet Spock’s, every bit as unflinching as the Vulcan’s. He knew when he was being conned, and this was a very good job of it. I think I like it, he thought, but I’ll like it a lot better when you realize it won’t work. You do need me, and I’m going to take one hell of a lot of convincing.
“Talk with Draco,” Marlena replied earnestly. “If you deal fairly with them...”
“What deal?” Kirk interrupted. “What do I offer them?”
There was silence, and Kirk folded his arms. At last, Sulu said, casually, “How about a new government?”
“Sulu, be serious!” Marlena snapped at him. Kirk laughed.
“Our orders, mister, are to stop this rebellion,” he reminded.
“Which usually means destroy the rebels,” Sulu rejoined. “But we could stop it by other means.”
“Give them what they want,” Spock added quietly, “without seeming to.”
“Therein lies our little difficulty,” Kirk commented dryly.
“It can’t be too difficult,” Sulu said. “We’ve been pulling it off for over a year. All we need is someone who has the brains and guts to seem Imperial while looking out for other interests.” He gave a slight bow in Kirk’s direction.
“Thank you,” Kirk acknowledged sardonically. “But we’re one ship, and it hasn’t been all that easy. You don’t deal with Headquarters.”
“Rigel’s been doing it for years,” Sulu returned. Kirk caught Spock’s quick, speculative look and wondered if the Vulcan had scanned Sulu’s report on Noel DelMonde. There certainly hadn’t seemed to be anything of particular importance to this topic. Perhaps Spock had seen something Kirk had missed.
“Rigel is hereditary,” Marlena reminded, a little sternly, Kirk thought. “A governor has to be appointed.”
Spock suddenly smiled. “We have the necessary influence to accomplish such an appointment.”
“One that will ease up on the miners, be acceptable to the Empire, and -” Kirk paused, caught up in the strategy. Then he, too, smiled. “Stop the rebellion. Of course. Caros is against a corrupt governor, not the Empire itself. A new man will satisfy everyone.” He laughed outright. “Hell, I'd buy it!”
“Draco should,” Marlena mused.
“All they have to do is trust us,” Sulu put in, and his smile made the sarcasm almost undetectable.
“This just might work,” Kirk conceded.
“And if not, you can still kill us all,” Sulu replied cheerfully. Marlena sighed, but Kirk didn’t seem to notice.
“The main obstacle is how to waste the present governor so that Draco knows we did it and the Empire doesn’t.”
“Unnecessary,” Spock said. “We removed the governor ourselves once we found he was actually working against the Empire’s best interests.”
“Beautiful!” Kirk exclaimed. “They hoped to trap us, but we’re going to trap them.”
“If we can find a proper candidate,” Marlena said.
“You're awfully persuasive, Marlena,” Sulu murmured. This time Kirk noted her reaction and glared at Sulu.
“It must be someone Draco would be sure was not a trick,” Spock stated.
“And someone we could be sure of,” Kirk added.
“Hasim,” Sulu said confidently. All eyes turned to him. “The Don used Courtland, we acknowledge it by using Hasim. This way we get not only Draco, but Rigel as well. If the Empire is on to us, we need allies, fast. This opens negotiations.” He shrugged, as suddenly nonchalant as he had been involved. “And Draco trusts Rigel,” he finished.
“The Empire has to trust one of their own Terlords,” Spock mused. He glanced at Sulu. “An excellent choice, Commander.” Sulu stood, his eyes lowered, bowing from the waist, formally, humbly. But he was grinning as he reseated himself.
“Can we trust Hasim?” Kirk asked.
“We can trust Valley and Costain. A governor is loyal to the Senators who get him appointed,” Marlena replied.
“Valley and Costain are no doubt very worried over our interpretation of their daughters’ behavior,” Spock went on. “I am certain they would welcome this opportunity to reaffirm their commitment.”
Kirk’s smile was genuine and complete. “We’ve got them!” he said, his voice quiet, yet full of thick relish.
“Yes,” Spock replied with equal and no less fervid satisfaction. “I believe we do.”
Senator Costain received the messenger in the Palace throne room. Multicolored light shone through the triangular skylights set high in the ceiling; one red, the next orange, then yellow, then green, through to blue and purple. The throne itself was placed at the point where all the colors crossed to create a brilliant spot of white. It was there Costain sat, his heart anguished, waiting for news of his eldest daughter.
The messenger knelt on one knee, his face reflecting the anxious fear emanating from Indi’s Great Father.
“Contact was made Tay-Roshé,” he said. “Your sister’s daughter spoke to Tay aemi on Darius.”
“She lives,” Costain murmured.
The messenger smiled with the relief. “Yes. But the rest of the news – it is not good, Tay-Roshé. She did not seem to recognize her cousin, and the Lady Costain reports that she looked haunted. At the second contact, Tay aemi told her to go away.” He paused. “And that she could not hear, and would not listen to her cousin’s words.”
Anger and despair welled in the Senator’s being. “What has that brute done to my child?” was an agonized whisper from his lips.
“When the Lady Costain attempted to speak to Valley’s child, the Antari replied, and I quote the report exactly, Tay-Roshé, ‘I don’t think you’re real.’”
“They know!” Costain burst out, rising to his feet. “They know and they’ve turned them! Tu Aema, we’re in grave danger!” He descended from the throne, striding quickly from the great room. The messenger followed closely. “We must contact Jonathon immediately. Our gamble has failed.”
Being called “evan Tova” was something Jonathon Valley had never liked, and had never gotten used to. The fact that it was, universally, the first endearment a new bed partner used for him hadn’t increased his tolerance of it one bit. Even while understanding the Antari matronymic, and the fact that most of the girls he favored were just past Trine age – which meant their telepathy wasn’t fully shielded yet - as an Imperial Human male, he couldn’t stomach being called only the ‘son of his mother’, whose name was Tova. He moved to sit up in the huge bed and glared at the purple-eyed beauty beneath him. “My name,” he told her, “is Jonathon. If you can’t remember that, ‘Senator’ will do nicely.”
The girl stopped smiling. “Forgive me, Senator,” she murmured.
“Make me,” he challenged. He watched her unconsciously scanning his mind, realizing that he wasn’t as angry as he sounded, and perceiving the best way to procure the ‘forgiveness.’ Her smile returned, and she slithered down under the light bed sheet, her soft mouth beginning to kiss his thigh.
Senator, an urgent call for you sounded suddenly in his mind, and the girl immediately moved away from him.
“Zehara kol!” he swore, and bellowed loudly for his newest aide as he got out of bed.
The Elder, Randall ani Reah, sat cross-legged, unperturbed, as the Senator ranted at her, repeating the strictures he had set against uninvited telepathic contact.
“I thought it would be less intrusive than barging physically into the middle of your tryst,” she informed him.
“If you’re so concerned with my privacy, ani Reah, why didn’t you simply send my aide,” Valley demanded.
“The communication was of highest priority, and it was quicker and more convenient to tell you myself rather than hunting down your aide and waiting until he confirmed the communications, then went to find you,” she replied. “As we speak, Senator, precious time is passing.”
Valley bristled at her condescending air. “You are an Elder, and I’ve tried to respect your customs,” he told her, “but you will follow my rules, or I warn you, I’ll send you to the Imperial harem to be trained like the slut you are!” He turned from her and stabbed the activation button on the com panel. “Valley, what is it, Joel!”
“Kirk knows, Jonathon,” Costain’s voice said, as the picture resolved to reveal his worried face. “They’ve found a way to turn my Jilla, and your child too.”
“Impossible!” Valley snorted.
“Not impossible,” Costain returned. “My own niece saw her. They’ve been turned, I tell you!”
Valley glared at the Antari still seated on the floor of his office. “You told me it might be new technology blocking her.”
“The operative word being ‘might,’ Senator,” Randall replied.
“And you told me it might be the Vulcan,” Valley continued to Costain.
“At the time, it was the only concern I had,” Costain rejoined. “I hadn’t yet had any indication from my Jilla…”
“Other than silence!”
“Be that as it may, Jonathon, there is indication that things have gone badly now.”
“Kol!” Valley swore. “We’re compromised, and unless we can find a way to contain the damage…”
“Senator, we have another urgent incoming call,” Valley’s aide informed him from the communications station.
“From who?” Valley snapped.
“The Enterprise.”
“Captain Kirk, what a pleasant surprise,” Valley began. “What can I do for you today?”
“Senator Valley, please wait a moment while my communications officer also connects to Senator Costain,” Kirk’s voice said.
“No need, Captain. As luck would have it we were already linked.”
Kirk grinned. “Luck. Yes, I imagine it was.” He paused, then his face turned away, as did Costain’s. “Good evening, Senator Costain.”
“Greetings, Captain. How may we be of service?”
“I have a name for you to place in nomination for the replacement of Governor Lawrence of Caros.”
“Replacement?” Costain interrupted. “Has there been an accident?”
“You could say that,” Kirk stated dryly. “Or, at least, there’s about to be one. Imperial profits are down, and the miners are getting the blame. They’ve protested, work slowdowns, the usual. Our investigation turned up the fact that their work is at and above quotas.” Kirk grinned, not a pleasant sight. “So it’s Lawrence’s skimming. He’s the problem, and his replacement will be the solution.”
Valley stirred uneasily. “And you want us to place a name. Whose?”
“Terlord Mouli Hasim of Rigel.”
“A Rigellian as governor of a Draco world?” Costain put in. “Captain, is that safe?”
“And why wouldn’t it be, Senator?” Kirk wanted to know.
“Well, there have been rumors lately…”
“I met with the Terlord a few days ago. There’s nothing to worry about, I can assure you.”
Valley caught Costain’s quick glance. There was more here they would need to discuss privately. But, with the likely loss of their bitches’ loyalty, and with it, their chance for a hold on Kirk and his crew, the safest course was to simply agree. If there were reason not to place Hasim’s name in nomination, they could come up with a plausible excuse later.
“Settled, then, Captain. We will contact the Imperium immediately.”
“Captain,” Costain broke in, “how is my daughter faring?”
On the screen, Kirk’s face smiled broadly. “She’s just fine, Senator. More than fine. Quite the pleasure, in fact.” The smile turned. “As is your lovely Ruth, Senator Valley.” It was only then that Valley noticed Kirk’s eyes reflected some inner amusement.
Sulu entered his cabin quietly. Jeremy had told him that his prizes were safe and sound and in their nest. When he saw them, he understood the reference. The blankets of his bed were bunched up around them, looking very much like the walls of some natural haven. He smiled, and crossed the room. Both pairs of eyes opened, both lit with a joy that warmed his soul. Then pain flashed into Ruth’s eyes, and she looked away.
“It wasn’t real,” she whispered, hollow confession. “Just for a moment, it wasn’t real.”
He stared down at her, noting that the bruises from Kirk’s assault were already fading. “I know,” he told her.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was nearly inaudible. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
“No, you weren’t.”
She looked up at him, empty misery and entreaty. “What can I do?”
“Never let it happen again.”
She swallowed. “Is - is that all?”
“No.”
She bent her head, sorrowful, accepting.
“You can know that his treatment of you will only get worse. You can know that, if it isn’t real, it won’t hurt you. You can know that you have a way to escape him - if you deny me.” He bent over her, lifting her chin harshly. He waited until her eyes hesitantly met his. “Do you know that, Ruth?”
There was confusion in her eyes, and he stared into her, unrelenting, until he saw the realization. You have a way out, now, honey, he told her silently. You have a choice. Endure, or deny me. Know it, Ruth. Despairing anger filled her violet gaze. “And you can never let it happen again,” he enunciated finally. Then he smiled. “Bitch.”
She sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Bastard!” she cried, joyous for all the fierce ambivalence.
He laughed, kissing her, hugging her warmly. He glanced at Jilla, who watched him with eyes full of shining peace. Her face was still discolored, but most of the swelling had gone down. He wanted nothing more than to keep her with him until she was completely healed, but he knew he didn’t have that luxury yet. He gently put Ruth away from him, leaned over to kiss Jilla, then sighed.
“It’s time to go, my beauties,” he said.
Rand had been sitting at a table in the messroom for what seemed like forever, wondering if she should go to Uhura’s cabin, or simply return to her quarters as if nothing had happened. The lovely TerAfrican had made it quite obvious that she would be a welcome presence in her bed - if she was free of Sulu. Not even Uhura would deliberately cross the Chief of Security. Rand shivered with the memory of Uhura’s touch, just short of an actual caress, as she helped McCoy care for the abuse Sulu had inflicted. She had insisted Rand sleep in her bed, and had whispered to her while the sedative took effect, words of graphic desire. Her lovely, agile fingers had skimmed over the blankets, arousing her without touching her skin. And she had murmured how frustrating it was to have to honor the Chief of Security’s claim on her when he didn’t seem to honor it himself.
Uhura had only heightened Rand’s confusion. It would be wonderful to have that full, dark body to pleasure and to receive pleasure from, but Uhura was only a lieutenant, only Chief of Communications. It would be a major step down. Yet Rand was certain Uhura wouldn’t give her the kind of pain Sulu did - though she probably couldn’t give her the ecstasy, either. She was terrified of actually trying to leave Sulu, but she was no longer sure she would be able to figure out what Sulu wanted from her, and that frightened her more. Gods, she’d gotten too sure of herself! If Sulu ever suspected that she was even thinking about leaving him... She decided abruptly that if she was given another chance, she was going to play it very, very differently.
“Janice.”
She looked up at Paget’s voice, almost incredulous. Was she getting another chance? She became immediately, demurely attentive.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” she said.
“The Boss says you’re to come home.”
She stood, nearly squealing. “He does?”
Paget made a face. “Would I be here if he hadn’t?” He turned, and she followed him eagerly. “You want my advice?” his voice floated back to her.
“I’ll take anything I can get,” she returned, well aware of her tenuous status.
“Don’t squeal at him.”
Lieutenant Emerson acknowledged the transmission, then turned toward the Captain’s chair. Captain O’Niall was already on her feet, looking tensely toward the communications officer. Emerson refused to meet her expressive grey eyes.
“Private transmission, Captain,” she reported. She was smart enough not to add ‘from Caros’ in front of the entire Bridge crew.
“My office, Lieutenant,” the Captain said, then immediately forgot her. “Recalpod, you have the con,” she snapped at her Chief Engineer, then jerked her head at her First Officer. “Come with me, Dallas.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dallas replied, his face carefully blank. He rose smoothly from his seat, and followed Illyana to the turbolift.
Damn, the gods be damned, he’s done it, I know he has. Caros. Draco. Go after him, Illyana. Duty. Family. I don’t want to die!
Illyana opened the intercom to the Bridge communications station as calmly as always, setting up her personal scrambler to foil any monitoring. She knew she wasn’t keeping her emotions from Dallas, but it couldn’t be helped. Besides, it was his neck as well. “O’Niall here.”
“Illyana.” Dmitris. She exchanged a swift glance with Dallas.
“I see you’re still alive, Uncle,” she said, not quite successful at hiding her surprise, nor her wary suspicion.
“Yes, oddly enough,” came the response. “We all are.”
“What?” This time, she didn’t even try.
“We have a problem.”
Illyana recovered from the shock. You’re still alive and you have a problem? she wondered. What was taking James T so long? “Hasn’t the Enterprise reached...” she began.
“Yes. That’s the problem. We were contacted privately by her captain, Kirk. He said he wanted to ‘talk.’”
“Kirk?” Dallas interjected skeptically. “Talk?”
O’Niall waved Dallas’ words impatiently away and concentrated on the leader of the Caros miners. “What does he want to talk about?”
“How should I know? You know Fleet, we thought it best to get your opinion. Do we trust him?”
“Trust? James T? Sooner trust a planetary governor, Dmitris.”
“Illyana, if we don’t give him an answer within an hour, he’ll follow Imperial orders, and then it will be up to you.” There was a pause. “And that’s exactly how he worded it.”
“Captain,” Dallas broke in, “we could use that hour. Can it hurt to stall? If Kirk is going to pull a trap, he’ll be following orders and we’ll have lost nothing, and gained some time.”
Illyana reflected silently for a moment. Kirk would either blow them up, or talk, then blow them up. Time. Sweet, precious time. She wanted every minute of it. The problem, of course, was that the hour also gained Kirk some time. But maybe, just maybe the skunk has found a way out. She turned abruptly.
“Talk, Uncle. Find out what he wants. Then let me know my options. O’Niall out.”
“Captain, calm down.”
“Shut up, Dallas!”
Dallas watched as Illyana continued her pacing. She was worried. He couldn’t blame her, he didn’t particularly relish dying either. And if they had to go after Kirk, the Artemis would be a worthless, dead hulk. He couldn’t let that happen, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it. Draco comes first, even before ambition, damn it. And there was nothing to be done about that, either. But Illyana was worried about more than her own skin. Draco would lose its only captain, its only organized rebellion outpost, its only chance for more than a paper alliance with Rigel, and its only hope for freedom all in one devastating blow. That was a lot for one woman to carry.
He moved across the room, intercepting her. “Illyana, that won’t make Dmitris call any sooner,” he said. She glared at the hands on her shoulders.
“Why don’t you go back to the Bridge, Dallas,” she snapped.
“I’d rather stay and help - pass the time, ma’am,” he returned softly.
The grey eyes closed, the corners of her mouth turning up in faint amusement. When she looked at him again, her eyes were twinkling. “You think you could, Col?”
“Try me, Captain.”
She smiled fully, then strode to the door. “Meran,” she said to her guard, “I’m keeping the com open. Listen, but don’t hear.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the automatic answer.
Dallas scowled. “I’m not at my best with an audience.”
“I’m not at my best dead,” Illyana replied smoothly.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Don’t be silly.”
Illyana lay on her stomach, her chin in her hands, staring at the intercom. Dallas’ arm was still across her waist. He’d closed his eyes for a few moments’ rest. He had helped pass the time, but she hadn’t once stopped thinking about Caros. Specifically, about Kirk. He was up to something, he had to be. He was getting out of it, somehow, but how? And why? Surely he knew he’d win; no matter what he did, he’d win. Damn, that tastes bad. Bitter, ugly. I’d really have to try and kill him. And fail. Suicide for Mother Draco. Stop it, Yana, defeatists get defeated. You could damn well take him with you.
But why talk? Was Kirk sincere about an alliance? It was the only reason she could think of to go to all this trouble. An alliance with James T? She might as well wish for a treaty with the Empire. Call, Dmitris! she thought at the com. What does he want, what does he offer?
“Damn it!” She spoke out loud, and Dallas sat up.
“I tried, Captain,” he growled.
She laughed. “No, Col, I wasn’t even thinking of you.”
“I noticed.”
The intercom whistled and Illyana was up and to it before it stopped. “O’Niall.”
“Private transmission...”
“Put it on, Emerson!”
Dallas shook his head and got up, starting to get dressed.
“Illyana.”
“Who else, Dmitris? What did he say?”
“You won’t believe this...”
Illyana sighed in exasperation. “Try me.”
“He doesn’t want to blow us up.”
She laughed stridently. “Details, Uncle!”
“He’s offered to replace our ‘corrupt’ governor with one more sympathetic to our interests, in exchange for the cessation of open rebellion.”
“I’ll be damned,” Dallas breathed.
Illyana thought for a moment, then asked, “What do you think of his proposal, Dmitris?”
“Well, we’re all still alive. Would we be if he didn’t mean it?”
She laughed again, less strident and a great deal more bitter. “Depends on who he replaces Lawrence with. Did dear James give any likely candidates?”
There was a pause before Dmitris answered. “He said that would be up to the Senate.”
Damn cagey bastard! Don’t lay out all your cards too early, is that it? “How long did he estimate we wait and ‘trust’ him?” she said out loud.
“He seemed confident we’d have an answer in three standard days.”
Three days. He could do a hell of a lot of damage in three days. And with us just waiting... Unless, of course, we don’t. Sneak up on the son-of-a-bitch. He’ll expect that. Is that what he wants? Damn! How do I outfox him?
“Captain, it would seem we don’t have much choice,” Dallas’ voice broke into her thoughts.
“He’s waiting for an answer, Illyana,” Dmitris’ voice added.
What could I lose? Caros, my life, but I’ll lose them anyway if James T hasn’t changed his stripes. I could gain... one hell of a lot. Illyana took a deep breath. “Uncle Dmitris, we wait.”
“Jonathon, something simply isn’t right here,” Senator Costain said, shaking his head. “I can feel it.”
Valley’s jaw tightened. ‘Going native’ was one thing, but Costain had begun to take it way too far. Their association had been a very profitable one for them both. They had protected each other’s backs, guarded each other’s secrets, and had collaborated to create a strong, clandestine system of influence. It hadn’t been easy for Valley to trust anyone, much less an Orphiac, a follower of the Muses and a patron of the arts. He was himself a devotee of Minerva, proud of his intellect and cold strength. It was the discovery of the special native abilities of the people they ruled which had brought them together. Assured mutual destruction kept them together.
Costain was soft. Valley wasn’t prepared to risk all he had built because Costain wanted to play daddy. But neither was he prepared to completely alienate his ally.
“What information do you have?” Valley asked, putting perhaps a slight emphasis on the second word of the sentence.
“My sources in the Rigellian palazzo tell me that there is much going on there which is suspect,” Costain replied. “Nothing solid, just what they feel.” The face looked more intently from the com screen. “You aren’t going to tell me you can doubt that, are you, Jonathon?”
Valley scowled. “Of course not. But Kirk isn’t suspect. He’s a loyal Imperial officer. Anything he's plotting would have to meet with Don DelMonde’s approval, since it involves Hasim.” He straightened. “I’ll take my chances with Rigel, Joel.”
“And if there is something to be concerned about?” Costain persisted. “What of our daughters? How can we extricate them should things become dangerous?”
“Kirk already knows what they are,” Valley stated. “He can break our network with just a word to the wrong ear. If he had us by the short hairs before, now he’s got a vice grip. We have to follow his orders. We have no choice, or everything we’ve worked for falls apart.”
“But my child – she has no safety net, no…”
“She’s lost to you, Joel. Hard fact. Whatever Kirk did, it’s done.”
Costain’s usually pleasant face hardened. “Perhaps. But she lives, and while she lives, I will not abandon her.” He paused. “You, of course, are free to do what you will regarding your daughter.”
Valley sighed. “Joel, be reasonable…”
“I will insure my child’s life, Jonathon.”
“At the expense of all our influence?”
“Since, as you pointed out, it is already in jeopardy…”
Valley thought quickly. He had to stop this fool’s sentimentality before it destroyed his own security. “As long as we play along, Kirk will keep quiet. Isn’t that guarantee enough?”
“If he works against the Empire?” Costain snorted incredulously.
“There’s no indication he is.”
“My sources on Rigel…”
“And how could Kirk know that?” Costain stopped, and Valley let his voice become soothing. “Maybe something is happening on Rigel. If so, we’ve got plenty of warning. For now, we have no reason to think Kirk is in on it. He’s dealing with Caros, with Draco, Joel. When you deal with Draco, you do anything to save your skin. So he gets rid of Lawrence and gives them Hasim, a pretty fop who won’t soil his hands in the mines. The miners go back to running things their way, Imperial production quotas are met, everyone’s happy.” He took a deep breath. “And Kirk has no reason to tighten the vise.”
“Perhaps you are right, Jonathon,” Costain conceded uneasily.
“When am I ever wrong, Joel?”
“Very well. But if my Jilla is irreparably damaged…”
“Understood. Valley out.”
The com screen went dark, and so did Valley’s eyes. “Threaten me again, Orphiac,” he murmured softly. “Threaten me again.”