"W. Michael Gear - Forbidden Borders 1 - Requiem for The Conqueror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gear W Michael)

that he was gawking. Shamed, he forced himself to concentrate on her faceтАФand
saw the terrible sadness that possessed her. It engulfed him, opening a pit in
his stomach.
"By the Blessed Gods, who are you?"
The faintest of smiles crept around her lips. "I can't tell you that. It would
be dangerous Captain . . . even for you."
"How did you get here? This is a military vessel, subject to the strictest
security."
She slipped slender fingers into the small pouch on her belt and lifted a
laser-coded security card. "I came with the Praetor."
Marston nodded uneasily as he took the card. The Praetor's crest flashed
as it caught the light. Even as he held it, the corners of the card began to
discolor: chem-coded so the ID couldn't be faked. Her security status ranked
her ID which made her a virtual slave to the Praetor. A chill settled on
Marston's soul.
She took the card back and stepped past him to stare down at the planet. "I
must go now. He'll miss me. I slipped away for . . . one last look."
/ should call security, send her back to the Praetor's quarters. But he
didn't. Then Marston caught her alluring scent and gripped the railing to
steady himself. He searched for words, desperate to talk about anything that
would keep her close. "You know that we may well be in combat within days."
"I know."
Why does she sound so sad? Who is she? "I suppose you're aware of the
situation."
The weary sorrow in her expression melted im. "Staffa's coming."
Marston studied her from the corner of his eye. She'd said the Star Butcher's
name with a wistful longing. "That's what we're told. But I assure you, you'll
be safe here. The Lord Commander has never tried to crack a nut like Myklene
before. We're not some half-starved backward planet. He has no concept of our
power, or the capabilities of our orbital platforms. The finest technology has
gone into making them the most sophisticated and deadly defensive weapons in
all of Free Space. His tactics won't do him any good here. He's outgunned, and
our tracking and targeting capabilities are like nothing he's ever dealt
with."
Marston's soul swelled when she turned her doe-eyed gaze on him. Hard-bitten
veteran though he was, he'd already fallen in love with her. He battled the
desire to enfold her in his arms, to carry her off to his cabin and . . .
"Staffa knows that Captain." How could she talk about the man with such
tenderness?
"Then he knows he'll be crushed if he tries us."
She placed a pale hand on his shoulder and an electric
thrill shot through him. "Run, Captain. Leave this place. Save yourself while
you have time."
He forced a laugh. "I think you grossly overestimate the Lord Commander's
chances, my lady. I give you my word, no matter what happens, I shall make
sure you're safe. You needn't fear his slavers."
Her smile went crooked. "Believe me, Captain. I have no fears of Staffa. And
slavery comes in many forms and fashions." Grief brightened her eyes.
"Sometimes I wonder if perhaps the only true freedom lies in death."
"My lady . . . can I help you? Is there something I couldтАФ"