"Matthew Woodring Stover - Clone Wars - Shatterpoint" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stover Matthew Woodring)

'What was the military value of this outpost?" 'Military value?" The agent looked startled. "Why, none, I
suppose. These were Balawai jungle prospectors. Jups, they call 'em. Some jups operate as a kind of
irregular militia, but irregulars are nearly always men. There were six women here. And Balawai militia
units never, ah, never bring their, ah, children." 'Children," Mace echoed.
The agent nodded reluctantly. "Three. Mm, bioscans indicate one girl about twelve, the other two
possibly fraternal twins. Boy and a girl. About nine. Had to use bioscans." His sickly eyes asked Mace
not to make him finish.

Because a few days in the jungle hadn't left enough of them to be identified any other way.

Mace said, "I understand." 'These weren't militia, Master Windu. Just Balawai jungle prospectors in the
wrong place at the wrong time." 'Jungle prospectors?" Palpatine appeared politely interested. "And what
are Balawai?" 'Offworlders, sir," Mace said. "The jungles of Haruun Kal are the galaxy's sole source of
thyssel bark, as well as portaak leaf, jinsol, tyruun, and lammas. Among others." 'Spices and exotic
woods? And these are valuable enough to draw offworld emigrants? Into a war zone?" 'Have you priced
thyssel bark lately?" 'I-" Palpatine smiled regretfully. "I don't care for it, actually. I suppose my tastes are
pedestrian; you can take a boy out of the Mid Rim, but." Mace shook his head. "Not relevant, sir. My
point: these were civilians. Depa wouldn't be involved in something like this. She couldn't." 'Hasty, your
statement is," Yoda said gravely. "Seen all evidence, I fear we have not." Mace looked at the agent. The
agent flushed again.

'Well, er, yes-Master Yoda is correct. This, uh, recording-" He twitched his head around at the ghostly
corpses that filled the office. "-was made with the prospectors' own equipment; it's adapted to Haruun
Kal work, where more sophisticated electronics-" 'I don't need a lesson on Haruun Kal." Mace's voice
went sharp. "I need your evidence." 'Yes, yes of course, Master Windu." The agent fished in his
travelcase for a second or two, then came up with an old-fashioned data wafer of crystal. He handed it
over. "It's, uh, audio only, but-we've done voiceprint analysis. It's not exact-and there's some ambient
noise, other voices, jungle sounds, that kind of thing-but we put match probability in the ninety percent
range." Mace weighed the crystal wafer in his hand. He stared down at it. There. Right there: the flick of
a fingernail could crack it in two. ,' should do it, he thought. Crush this thing. Snap it in half right now.
Destroy it unheard.

Because he knew. He could feel it. In the Force, stress lines spidered out from the wafer like frost scaling
supercooled transparisteel. He could not read the pattern, but he could feel its power.

This would be ugly.

'Where did you find it?" 'It was-uh, at the scene. Of the massacre. It was. well, at the scene." 'Where did
you find it?" The agent flinched.

Again, Mace took a breath. Then another. With the third, the fist in his chest relaxed. "I am sorry."
Sometimes he forgot how intimidating some men found his height and voice. Not to mention his
reputation. He did not wish to be feared.

At least, not by those loyal to the Republic.

'Please," he said. "It might be significant." The agent mumbled something.

'I'm sorry?" 'I said, it was in her mouth." He waved a hand in the general direction of the holographic
corpse at Mace's feet. "Someone had. fixed her jaw shut, so scavengers wouldn't get at it when they.