"Aaron Allston "Iron Fist" (STARWARS. X-Wing #6)" - читать интересную книгу автора

They'd accepted it, the whole package, especially eager for



the scandalous details of her captivity and Trigit's evil... lies she'd been happy to offer out of her anger at the man. Trigit had been willing to sacrifice his crew to death when he didn't have to, a crew that had been efficient and loyal.
But this whole Lara Notsil identity had only one purpose, to get her out of New Republic hands and back to Imperial service-or service that would someday be acknowledged as Imperial.
She shook her head. "I don't think I can help you." Then she frowned. "Wait. You said 'trade favors.' What would I do for you?"
Phanan leaned forward. "Ah. That's the tricky bit. We'd want you to struggle a bit with your pilot training. Skirt along at the bottom of your class, sometimes dipping just under ac-ceptable skill, sometimes skimming along just above. Sort of terrain-following flying, if you get my drift." "Why? Why not do the best I can?"
Phanan said, "Because we think someone will come to you and offer to help train you, improve your scores... and then want to use your pilot's skills in a deal. Some sort of illegal operation."
"You're setting this person up. I would be bait."
Face nodded. "He's the sort of man who uses people,
Lara. Uses them like Admiral Trigit. We thought, maybe, you'd be able to take out on him the vengeance you'd been saving for Trigit."
She shook her head. "It wouldn't be the same, and I
wouldn't-"
And then the idea hit her, detonating in her mind like a proton torpedo. A plan, a simple one, one that would increase her worth in the eyes of Warlord Zsinj or any Imperial officer to whom she wanted to sell her services. The idea made her as dizzy as her long-faded teenage longing for an actor named Garik Loran had.
"Lara?" Face asked. "Are you all right?"
She began to cry. A useful talent, that, being able to cry on
cue; her teachers at Imperial Intelligence had been delighted by it. "I can't do it," she said. "I'll lose everything."
Phanan leaned forward and took her hands. "What will you lose? What could you lose?"
"Everyone at home is dead. All I have left are people I've met since I was rescued. I was hoping for a career in the mili-tary, some civilian post. If I do what you say, if I go through pi-lot's training, I won't be able to help myselfmit'll wake up that old wish and the only thing I'll want is to be a pilot. And then if I set this man up and ruin him, everyone everywhere will say, 'That's Lara Notsil. The traitor.' No one will want me. Every-one will distrust me."
"That's not true," Phanan said. But Gara saw Face lean back, considering her words, and she knew he recognized the truth of them.
"It is true," she said. "What commander would take me on as a pilot? Everyone will think I'm spying on them, and friends of this person you want me to burn down will do what it takes to ruin me. I'll have terrible scores from doing exactly what you wanted me to do, so the civilian piloting services won't have anything to do with me." She stared between them, defiant, allowing tears to continue streaming down her face. "You know it's true. And you can't speak for any squadron ex-cept your own, and you know Wedge Antilles would never take me on after I'd done what you asked."
Face still looked troubled. "We don't know that."
"But you can't speak for him."
"No, we can't."
"So you two want me to trade my entire future for a little piloting training. Thanks for the offer. There's the door."
"Wait." There was no artifice in Face's voice or manner now. "What if we could guarantee you a piloting station?
Somewhere you'd be accepted for your skills, where the conse-quences of this operation play in your favor instead of against you ?"
"Where ?"
"I don't know yet."
She shook her head. "I can't trust that the commander will
be as fair as you think. I just don't believe it."
"What if it were Wedge Antilles?"



She caught her breath. Then: "You just said you can't
speak for him."
"Not yet. I haven't put any details of this in front of him.
But I will. And if he says yes?"
She paused. She already knew her answer, but they had to think she was considering it. Finally, she said, "If it were Wedge Antilles's command, either Rogue Squadron or that new one, Wraith Squadron, yes, I'd do it."
"I'11 talk to him today." Face rose and Phanan followed suit. "I'll let you know as soon as I have an answer from him." She gave him a brave little nod.
And when they'd gone, she clamped both hands over her mouth, the better to hold in the whoops of victory that threat-ened to escape her.
When they were a few steps from Lara Notsil's door, Phanan said, "Commander Antilles is going to take you to pieces."
"I know." Face shouldered his way through the thick stream of pedestrians.
"You'll be pulling punishment detail until you're forty."
"Probably."
"When you put this idea in front of him, flames are going
to come out of his mouth and burn you from head to foot."
"That's true. But one thing makes it easier for me to take."