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decoded message he held in his hand. Even after decryption the message was obscure.
    OFT en route w/1 and 2. Transport 1SD. 10 dys
.
    He deciphered it again, ensuring he had the right of it.
    Orn Free Taa was returning to Ryloth. He would be accompanied by Emperor Palpatine and Lord Vader. They were coming via Star Destroyer in ten days.
    He was reading it right; it just didn’t make any sense. He smelled a trap.
    He raised Isval on his comlink. He needed her take.
    She came promptly, a question in her eyes, and he showed her the decrypted message. She licked her lips as she read, then looked up at the wall, thinking.
    “Not possible, right?” he asked her.
    “When did this come in?”
    “An hour ago, via the usual channels.”
    “Trustworthy?” she asked.
    “The source? Yes, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t misled.”
    “Right,” she said. A vein pulsed in her forehead. She’d had it ever since they’d heard Vader kill Pok in the hijack that had gone wrong. She handed the paper back to him. Her lekku swayed with irritation. “It’s wrong or it’s a trap. Has to be.”
    Cham crumpled the paper, burned it in the flame of the candle on his desk. “I thought so, too. But what if it’s not? It’s an opportunity.”
    She sniffed, paced the floor of his room, shaking her head, her hands on the twin blasters she wore at her belt. “The Star Destroyer makes sense if they were coming. The
Perilous
is Vader’s flagship but…
why
would they be coming? That’s where this falls apart. And Vader
and
the Emperor coming to the Outer Rim? The only time they’re ever in one place is on Coruscant. The ‘why’ is the trouble here. We need a why.”
    Cham stared at the candle flame, thinking of Pok. “I don’t know. To make an example of Mors, maybe? A show of force? Our attacks
have
slowed spice production to a trickle.”
    The Empire used spice—refined ryll, harvested from the countless mines that made Ryloth porous—and its derivatives for countless purposes, particularly in the Imperial science and medical corps.
    “Maybe they’re coming to replace Mors?” Isval said. “With Dray, maybe?”
    “That’d be useful, but…” Cham shook his head. “No. If Mors goes down, Belkor Dray will go with her. He doesn’t see that, but there’s no way he stands if Mors falls.”
    Isval was warming to her theorizing. “Bring more stormtroopers? They’ve got a bunch of conscripts and enlistees here now. Nubs looking for adventure, but not true soldiers. Maybe bring more troops, elite troops, and lock down Ryloth and spice production?”
    “Maybe, but one Star Destroyer? For the Emperor and Vader?”
    “It’s a Star Destroyer, Cham! Think about what you’re saying.”
    “Yes, but…”
    “I’d wager the fleet is spread pretty thin across the galaxy,” Isval said. She’d stopped pacing and now stared at the wall, white knuckles clenched around her hope for an opportunity to strike a telling blow. “Or maybe the Emperor is worried that a big fleet presence would send the wrong message. Make it look like he was afraid of the piddling freedom fighters of Ryloth.”
    “I need you to be the voice of reason here, Isval. I’m leaning too heavy in one direction.”
    “Yeah, but maybe you’re right to do that,” Isval said. “Maybe you’re overthinking this, Cham. When has our intelligence been wrong? There could be a dozen reasons we can’t see, and if we spend all our time trying to find them an opportunity could slip past us.”
    “And you’re underthinking it. These are clever men. If they’re luring us into an overreach…”
    “Even clever men make mistakes,” she said, returning to her habitual pacing. “And they have no idea of the forces at our disposal, Cham. We’ve been acting like a tiny band of terrorists for years—”
    “Freedom fighters,” Cham corrected her.
    “Freedom fighters. But we have ships, hundreds of soldiers, heavy weapons. This is the Emperor and Vader and Taa.
Vader
,