Spoiler! :
"Make good on your threats and then we'll see if she worries." The Phindian made as if to stand up suddenly, but Tarkin shoved her down and got to his feet. She scrambled to get back into a sitting position and he brought his boot down hard on her hand. There was an audible crack, and she howled.
"Don't think that overheating you is all I can do," Tarkin said. His tone had darkened considerably. "I could bring Lord Vader here to have a chat with a single call. You've given us fine information, but I want your client's alias. Now."
The Phindian curled in on herself, nursing her broken hand. She didn't respond.
Tarkin turned to Sirejj and nodded toward the door. "We'll give her some time to consider it," he told him.
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