"Survivors Quest (Timothy Zahn)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

"Assuming the drink dispensers are working today," Karrde murmured as
they headed back along the command walkway.
"Well, yeah," Booster conceded. "Always assuming that."
* * *
As cantinas went, Mara Jade Skywalker thought as she sipped her drink,
this was definitely one of the strangest she'd ever been in.
Part of that might simply have been due to the locale. Here in the Outer
Rim, culture and style weren't exactly up to the standards of Coruscant and
the rest of the Core Worlds. That might explain the gaudy wall hangings
juxtaposed with ancient plumbing woven around modern drink dispensers, all of
it set against a background decor consisting mainly of polished droid parts
dating back to before the Clone Wars.
As for the unbreakable mugs and the heavy, stone-topped table she was
seated at, the smoothed-over blaster scars in the walls and ceiling were more
than enough explanation. When the patrons dived under the tables in the middle
of a firefight, they would want those tables to afford them some protection.
And they wouldn't want to find themselves sitting on bits of broken crockery,
either.
There was no rationale at all, of course, for the very loud, very off-key
music.
A brush of air touched her shoulder, and a heavyset man appeared from
behind her, pushing his way through the milling crowd. "Sorry," he huffed as
he circled the table and landed his bulk back in the seat across from her.
"Business, business, business. Never lets up for a minute."
"I suppose not," Mara agreed. He didn't fool her for a second; even
without Force sensitivity she would have spotted the furtiveness hidden behind
the noise and bustle. Jerf Huxley, master smuggler and minor terror of the
Outer Rim, was up to something unpleasant.
The only question was how unpleasant he was planning for that something
to be.
"Yeah, it's crazy out here," Huxley went on, taking a noisy swallow of
the drink he'd left behind when he hurried off on the mysterious errand that
had taken him away from their table. " 'Course, you know all that. Or at least
you used to." He eyed her over the rim of his mug. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing," Mara said, not bothering to erase the smile that had
caught the other's attention. "I was just thinking about what a trusting
person you are."
"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.
"Your drink," Mara said, gesturing to his mug. "You go away and leave it
alone with me, and then you just come back and toss it down without even
wondering if I've put something in it."
Huxley's lips puckered, and through the Force Mara caught a hint of his
chagrin. He hadn't worried about his drink, of course, because he'd had her
under close surveillance the whole time he was gone. He also hadn't intended
for her to know that. "All right, fine," he said, banging the mug back onto
the table. "Enough with the games. Let's hear it. Why are you here?"
With a man like this, Mara knew, there was no point in glaze-coating it.
"I'm here on behalf of Talon Karrde," she said. "He wanted me to thank you for
your assistance and that of your organization over the past ten years, and to
inform you that your services will no longer be required."