Disra frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t twist me around, Disra,” Zothip warned. “Skywalker was at Kauron, asking about your precious clones. Got out of our Jedi trap, and we wound up having to blast and bust.”
“I mourn with you in your loss,” Disra said sarcastically. “What does this have to do with me?”
“What doesn’t it have to do with you?” Zothip shot back. “First you pull out all your clones-no explanation-and now suddenly Skywalker drops in for a visit.” The pirate’s eyes hardened. “You know what I think? I think you decided you don’t need us anymore and pointed Skywalker our direction to try to close us down. What do you say to that?”
“I say I’m looking at a pirate chief who’s lost his nerve,” Disra said bluntly. “What in the Empire would I have to gain by eliminating the Cavrilhu Pirates? Even assuming I could pull off such a feat?”
“You tell me,” Zothip grated. “I hear Admiral Pellaeon’s people have been sniffing around the boots of our financial associates on Muunilinst and Borgo Prime. Maybe you’re trying to burn your skyarches behind you before he connects us together.”
Disra snorted. “Let me tell you something. Not only am I not worried about Admiral Pellaeon, neither you nor anyone else in the galaxy has reason to worry about him, either. Not for long, anyway.”
“Really,” Zothip said, scratching under his shaggy black beard. “I thought good Imperials didn’t assassinate each other anymore.”
“He’s not going to be killed,” Disra assured him with a smug smile. “He’ll simply stop being a threat, that’s all.”
At the side of the desk, Tierce muttered something under his breath and snagged Disra’s datapad. “Yeah, sure, whatever,” Zothip said. “So then what was Skywalker doing here?”
Disra shrugged, watching Tierce out of the corner of his eye. The other seemed to be writing a message at furious speed. “Perhaps he identified you during that botched job at Iphigin,” he suggested to Zothip. “You said yourself that the ships that drove you away were a YT-1300 and an X-wing. Solo and Skywalker?”
“Could be, I suppose,” the pirate conceded with ill grace. “He still knew I’d been using your clones.”
Disra waved a hand in dismissal. “He was hunting shoal darters, Zothip. Trying to make a connection-any connection-between you and the Empire. He doesn’t know anything.”
“Maybe nothing about you,” Zothip growled. “But what about me? He’s a Jedi Master, remember? He could have picked up all sorts of dirt from my men.”
“Then you’d better bury yourselves somewhere for a while, hadn’t you?” Disra suggested, feeling his patience starting to shred around the edges. He didn’t have time for this. “Someplace where big bad Jedi can’t find you.”
Zothip’s face darkened. “Don’t try to dismiss me like a child, Disra,” he said, his voice rippling with soft menace. “Our partnership’s been extremely profitable, for both of us. But you don’t want me as your enemy. Trust me on that.”
“That works both directions,” Disra countered. “Fierce had finished whatever he was writing and had stepped around behind the desk, holding the datapad just over the display where Disra could read it. “Trust me on that,” the Moff continued, leaning casually forward as he tried to talk and read at the same time. “There’s no reason to end our relationship over something this trivial.”
“Trivial?” Zothip echoed. “You call the loss of a major base trivial-?”
“Besides, I have another job to offer you,” Disra said, leaning back in his seat again and throwing Tierce a faint smile. Score another one for their master tactician. “If you’re interested, that is.”
Zothip studied Disra’s face suspiciously. “I’m listening.”
“In approximately three weeks Admiral Pellaeon and the Chimera will be leaving Imperial space for a secret meeting at Pesitiin,” Disra said. “I want you to attack him there.”
Zothip laughed, a single ranphyx-like bark. “Right, Disra. Attack an Imperial Star Destroyer with a few Telgorn Pacifiers and maybe a Kaloth battlecruiser or two. Sure, no trouble.”
“I don’t mean attack with any intent of doing serious damage,” Disra said patiently. “All that’s necessary is for him to come under fire. You can do that, can’t you?”
“I can do it, sure,” Zothip said. “Question is, why should I?”