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336 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published October 6, 1998
Only a few seconds had passed from Xizor's examination of Vigo Kreet'ah's report to his complete understanding of all that it meant. The subtle pheromones exuded by his body had another effect on the keyed chemicals imbedded in the flimsiplast. All the words were suddenly hidden by a burst of flame, as the flimsi's fibers self-ignited. In a moment, the report was a rose flower of black ash, curling in Xizor's palm. The momentary heat was a trifle, barely a test of his rigorously maintained self-control; his martial training had inured him to pain much greater than this. Even before the flames had died, he crushed the remnants of the burning flimsi into a smear of dust inside his fist. The message it had contained was now safely extinguished from the universe.
Or almost gone. The words still resided in Prince Xizor's memory—and that of his trusted lieutenant, Vigo Kreet'ah. There was power in knowledge, especially the knowledge of secret things. Other creatures' secrets; and when the information was something that was of interest and importance to Emperor Palpatine, then the secret was very powerful indeed. A shame, mused Xizor, that it should be diminished by anyone else being a party to it. Secrets had finite energy; each sentient creature added to the knowledge diluted that strength. Even a Black Sun Vigo such as Kreet’ah, who supposedly had the organization’s interests at heart just as much as his overlord did—Xizor would have to make a strategic decision about that. A personnel decision; granted, Kreet’ah’s loyalty was proverbial inside the Black Sun ranks � but there were younger, up-and-coming foot soldiers who would welcome the chance at a promotion. If a vacancy at the top should some day appear �
Xizor brushed the vanished report’s ashes from his hand; the black flakes drifted, almost weightless, against the folds of his cape. For another few seconds, he weighed Vigo Kreet’ah’s existence in the delicately balanced scales of his thoughts—and made his decision. Kreet’ah would live, at least for a while longer. An underling’s unswerving loyalty deserved some consideration, after all—at least enough to purchase someone like Kreet’ah a little more life and breathing space.