“I told him at the very beginning that true power didn’t lie in the conquering of distant worlds. Or in battles and war and the crushing of faceless rebellions.” He smiled, his eyes glittering brightly in Covell’s mind. “No, General Covell,” he said softly. “This—this—is true power. Holding another’s life in the palm of your hand. Having the power to choose his path, and his thoughts, and his feelings. To rule his life, and decree his death.” Slowly, theatrically, C’baoth held out his hand, palm upward. “To command his soul.”
