"Ann Crispin "Han Solo. Rebel Dawn"" - читать интересную книгу автора

Alderaan had sent three representatives, two human and one Caamasi. The senior member of the delegation was a middle-aged man with grizzled hair and beard, one Hric Dalhney, Deputy Minister of Security, and a trusted member of Viceroy Bail Organa's cabinet. Ac-companying him was a young girl, not even out of her teens, with long, crystal-white hair. Dalhney introduced her as "Winter," commenting that they were posing as father and daughter as their "cover" during this trip. The non-human member of the delegation was a Caa-magi. Bria was intrigued by him, never having met one before. Their species was now somewhat rare in the galaxy.
Caamas had been essentially destroyed after the Clone Wars, thanks to the efforts of the Emperor's min-ion, Darth Vader, but it was a little-known fact that many of its people had managed to flee to Alderaan and lived there, mostly in seclusion.
The Caamasi's name was Ylenic It'kla, and he intro-duced himself as an advisor to the Viceroy of Alderaan. Tall, even taller than Bria, the Caamasi wore a single kilt-like garment and jewelry. Generally humanoid in appearance, Ylenic was covered in golden down, with purple stripes marking his face. His eyes were large, dark and held a faint air of calm sadness that touched Bria, knowing what sufferings this being must have witnessed.
Ylenic said little as the delegates exchanged greet-ings, but something about him impressed Bria. She re-solved to seek out his opinions if he did not offer them. The Caamasi had an air of quiet power, of confidence, that told the Rebel Commander that this was a being to be reckoned with.
After a few minutes of chitchat, Bria seated herself at the long table, and formally brought the meeting to or-der. "Fellow Rebels," she said, speaking with the quiet authority of someone who had done this many times be-fore, "I thank you for risking your lives in our cause. We of the Corellian Rebel movement are contacting other underground groups like our own, urging all the various Rebel groups to unite. Only as a strong, cohe-sive group can we have any hope of confronting the Empire that is strangling our worlds, and killing the spirit of our peoples."
Bria took a deep breath. "I know what a daunting and dangerous proposal this is, believe me. But only if we can unite, form an alliance, can the Rebel groups have any hope of eventual victory. As long as we remain fragmented, planet-bound groups, we are doomed to failure."
She paused. "The Corellian movement has long con-sidered this proposal. We are fully aware what a radical change this would entail-and how difficult such an al-liance would be. As long as we are individual groups, the Empire cannot wipe us all at one blow. If we were to unite, they might conceivably be able to destroy all of us in one battle. We also know how taxing it can be for different species to work together. Disparate ethical and moral systems, ideologies, religions-not to men-tion equipment and weapon design differences-all of these things can present problems."
Bria faced her onlookers steadily. "But, my friends, unite we must. Somehow we must find ways to work around our differences. Surely we can do that... and that's the subject of this conference."
The Duros representative tapped his fingers on the table. "Your words are stirring, Commander. In spirit, I agree with them. But let us face facts here. In asking the non-human worlds to ally with you, you are asking us to put ourselves at far greater risk. Everyone knows the Emperor's disdain for non-humans. If an alliance challenged Palpatine's forces, and lost, the Emperor's wrath would be mostly directed at the non-human worlds. He might well destroy us as a lesson to the hu-man Rebels."
Bria nodded. "Your point is well taken, Jennsar." She glanced around the table. "Minister Dalhney, what are your thoughts?"
"We of Alderaan have supported the Rebel move-ment from the beginning," the man said. "We have pro-vided intelligence, funding, and technical expertise. But this talk of battles is anathema to us. Alderaanian cul-ture is built on the absence of weapons and violence. We are a peaceful world, and the way of the warrior is abhorrent to us. Count on us to support your efforts- but I cannot imagine that we would ever be able to join you as combatants."
Bria gazed at Dahlney somberly. "It is possible, Min-ister," she said, "that Alderaan may not have the option to refrain from violence." She turned to the little Sullus-tan. "Sian Tevv, what are your initial thoughts?"
"Commander, my people are so crushed beneath the heel of the Empire that few of them have the where-withal to plot any kind of rebellion." The little allen's jowls quivered, and his dark, liquid eyes were sorrow-ful. "Though many complain about the Imperi'dl troops under their breaths, only a handful of my people have ever dared to openly resist. Our caves are places of fear. The Soro Suub Corporation essentially controls my world, and their biggest client is the Empire. If we were to join a Rebel Alliance, it would cause civil war!"
Bria sighed. Itg' going to be a long conference, she thought bleakly. "I recognize that all of you have valid concerns's" she said, keeping her voice level and neutral. "But it won't hurt anything, or commit you to anything, simply to discuss these issues, right?"
After a moment, the delegates from the three worlds agreed to talk. Taking a deep breath, Bria started in ....
I can't believe I've made it this far, Han thought wearily, as he eased himself into the seat at the one re-maining sabacc table. It was night on the fourth day of the tournament, and only the finalists were left. If only my luck holds out a little longer...
Slowly he stretched the kinks out of his back, wishing he could sleep for about twenty hours. The past few days had been grueling... hours of unending play, with only a few breaks for meals or sleep.
The other finalists had also taken their places around the table. A diminutive Chadra-Fan, a Bothan male, and a Rodian female. Han wasn't sure whether the Chadra-Fan was a male or a female. Both sexes wore the same long robes.
As Han glanced around at his fellow players, the last player, another human, sat down opposite Han in the last empty chair. Hah groaned inwardly. Somehow I knew this would happen. What chance can I have against a professional like Lando ?
Han was very conscious of the fact that he was probably the only "amateur" player at the table. It was a fair bet that the others, like Lando, made their primary living by winning at sabacc.
For a moment he was tempted to just call it quits, walk away. To lose now, after all these days of play...
Lando nodded tightly to his friend. Han nodded back.
The dealer approached. In most games of sabacc, the dealer actually played for credits, but in tourna-ment games, the dealer only dealt the card-chips and monitored the game... he or she was prohibited from playing.
The de'der was a Bith. The alien's large, five fingered hands featured both an opposable thumb and little fin-ger, giving the dealer considerable dexterity as he de.tit. The lights of the monstrous chandelier in the ballroom gleamed on the alien's large, bare, cranium.
The dealer ostentatiously opened a fresh pack of card-chips and riffled them, then triggered the randomizer several times, thus demonstrating that nobody could predict the order the card-chips would be dealt. After this initial demonstration, the randomizer itself altered the values of the card-chips at random intervals.
Han looked over at Lando, and was cheered to note that his friend was showing signs of strain. Landos natty outfit was creased, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair looked as though it hadn't been combed Сall day.
Han knew he was no prize himself. He rubbed his hand blearily across his face, and only then realized he'd forgotten to shave. Stubble rasped his fingernails.
Forcing himself to sit up straight, Han picked up his first hand of card-chips ....
Three and a half hours later, the Bothan and the Ro-djan had been eliminated. They'd left without a back-ward glance. The Bothan male had "bombed out"-bet his entire trove of credit-chips on the game. When Lando took that hand, the alien had stalked away with-out a farewell. The Rodian female had folded, but she hadn't bombed. Han figured that she'd decided to cut her losses and get out while she still had a profit. The stakes were getting very high. The sabacc pot alone contained nearly twenty thousand credits.
Hang luck had held. He had enough credit-chips to cover any of the bets he'd seen tonight. Mentally, he added them up. If he folded now, he'd leave Bespin with twenty thousand credits, give or take a couple hun-dred. His eyesight was getting blurry, and the card-chips were hard to Count when they were in stacks.
The Corellian considered. Twenty thousand was a lot of money. Almost enough to buy a ship of his own. Should he fold? Or should he stay in?
The Chadra-Fan raised the bet another five thou-sand. Han covered it. So did Lando, but it took nearly all his credit-chips.
Han assessed his hand. He had the card-chip for En-durance, which had the value of negative eight. Appro-priate, Han thought. This battle is becoming one of endurance .... He also had the Ace of Staves, with a value of positive fifteen. And the six of flasks. Value, positive six.
Thirteen. He needed to take another card, and hope that he didn't get a ranked card, which would put him out of the game. "I'll take a card," Hah said.
The dealer tossed one down on the table. Han
picked it up, saw with a sinking feeling that it was
Demise; which was negative thirteen. Great/I'm far-
ther away than ever/
And then the cards rippled and changed before his eyes ....
Han now had the Queen of Air and Darkness, with a value of negative two, plus the five of coins, the six of staves, and the Master of coins, with a value of four- . teen. Total value . . . twenty-three. His heart leaped.
Pure sabacc/
With this hand, he could take both the hand pot and the sabacc pot... to win the tournament.
There was only one hand that could beat him, and that was an idiotg array.
Hah took a deep breath, then pushed forward all but one of his stacks of credit-chips. For a moment he con-sidered tossing all his cards into the interference field, but then his opponents would know for sure he wasn't bluffing. He needed them to cover his bet if he was go-ing to clean up.
Hold steady, he thought to his card-chips, willing the randomizer not to change the patterns. Honest ran-domizers truly were random. Sometimes they changed card-chip patterns multiple times per game. Other times, they did so only once or twice. Han figured the odds for his card-chips changing within the next three minutes-the average time for a round of betting with this many players-were about 50-50.
Hah kept his features composed, his body relaxed, with an effort of will that was nearly painful. He had to make them think he might be bluffing!
On Han's right, the little Chadra-Fan's huge ears flickered rapidly back and forth, then he (Han had learned that he was male during the hours of play) ut-tered the faintest of squeaks. Deliberately, precisely, the alien folded his card-chips and placed them on the table, then got up and walked away.
Han stared at his card-chips. Hold . . . hold! His pulse was hammering, and he hoped Lando couldn't see it.
The professional gambler hesitated for a long sec-ond, then requested a card. Han's blood rushed in his ears as, slowly and deliberately, Calrissian extended a hand, and placed a card-chip facedown into the inter-ference field.
Han stiffened. He'd caught just a glimpse of the pri-mary color of the card-chip reflected against the faint ionization of the field. Violet. If Han's bleary eyes weren't playing tricks on him, that meant the card-chip was the Idiot. The most vital card in the Idiot's Array.