"Michael Stackpole "I, Jedi"" - читать интересную книгу автора

УSee, it was effort like that which allowed your father to catch Booster Terrik. Not a surprise the man hated the Horns.Ф УHe's got more reason now.Ф
My grandfather smiled. УYes, how does he like having his daughter married to a Horn?Ф
I turned one spadeful of dirt, then looked at my grandfather with surprise. УYou know?Ф
УCorran, I love you dearly and I think you will recall that we have spent many long hours discussing your love life and the disasters attendant thereunto.Ф
УDon't remind me.Ф I growled at him. УHey, is that just a leaning shovel, or can it dig, too?Ф
УIt can dig. Do you want to use it? Is yours worn out?Ф
I arched an eyebrow at him. УYou're not going to help?Ф
УI did my part in burying it.Ф His smile slackened slightly. УGet going, it's not that far down. Back to the point-when your garbled missives coming to me stopped mentioning ro-mantic difficulties, I assumed you had found someone. I made inquiries.Ф
УAnd you're not disappointed?Ф
УDisappointed? Why would I be?Ф
УShe's Booster Terrik's daughter.Ф
My grandfather walked over and rested his right hand on the back of my neck. УCorran, if she was enough to win your heart and keep it, she has to be wonderful. I am happy for you, truly. Someday you will bring her here so I can meet her.Ф
УSure, as soon as the murder warrants for me are lifted.Ф He frowned. УOh, yes, Gil Bastra's work. I'll take care of that. Perhaps that Imperial Liaison officer you had should be found guilty.Ф
УLoor? He's dead.Ф
УSo much the better.Ф He glanced down at the hole as my shovel hit metal. УThere you go.Ф
I cleared the hole. УOld storm cellar?Ф
УIt was here when I bought the house.Ф He crouched and helped me tug the metal door open. УIt's rather snug down there. You can go first.Ф He pulled a glowrod from his back pocket, flicked it on and handed it to me.
I clambered down the rusty ladder built into the side of the duracrete shaft. At the bottom the enclosure opened out into the area beneath the dung heap. The boxy room had been cleared of everything save one dusty and dirty old fiberplast trunk. It appeared to be of the sort I'd seen used a lot by smugglers-old pre-Imperial military surplus, cheap and in ready supply.
I heard my grandfather come down behind me. УThis trunk, what is it?Ф
УWhen the Empire decided all Jedi must die, I made some decisions. Some, like altering files to hide your grandmother and father from Imperial hunters, were good decisions. I do not regret them in the least.Ф
I glanced back at him. УWere there other Corellian Jedi fam-ilies you hid?Ф
УThat's not information you need to know, Corran. If there are any, and if they are meant to be found, they will be.Ф His hands rested on my shoulders. УOther decisions were risky. I chose, foolishly, to put my family and myself in jeopardy by hiding this down here. Had it been discovered I could have gotten all of us killed. By rights, I should have destroyed it- your grandmother and father thought I had because I told them I had, but I just couldn't.Ф
His hands gave my shoulders a squeeze. УThere, in that box, are all the things Ylenic It'kla brought back here after Nejaa's death.Ф
I nodded slowly, the light bobbing up and down over the packing case's dark bulk. УHow did Nejaa die?Ф
УI don't know the details. The Caamasi asked that I not in-quire. What he did tell me was that a great man, a hero of the Clone Wars, selected them for a very special and honorable mission. They went with him and the three of them vanquished most deadly foes, but Nejaa was mortally wounded. All the Jedi healing techniques could not save him and he died.Ф УThen you married his wife and adopted his son.Ф
My grandfather's voice grew distant. УI'd known Scerra all my life. We'd always been good friends, and we both lost our best friend at the same time. Our shared grief brought us more closely together and our shared lives provided us with strong roots together. I have always chosen to think that Nejaa had an inkling of his fate and what would happen to us after his pass-ing. I like to think knowing his friends would salvage love out of their mourning made his death that much easier.Ф
He patted me on the shoulder. УThe dust down here has my eyes watering. I'm going to head back up. We can pull the chest out of here, if you want, or you can open it and just look at the things here. Your choice. You are the last Halcyon, so they belong to you.Ф
УThank you.Ф I took a step toward the case, then turned and faced my grandfather. УYou're wrong in one thing, though.Ф Tears glistened in the half-light. УAm I?Ф
I nodded. УI don't see myself as the last Halcyon. I'm the last Horn. I just hope, in this chest and in the garden above, there's everything I need to guarantee both lines will continue.Ф
Alone in the still darkness, I opened the trunk. Dust trickled down from the lid, filling the air. I expected a musty odor of old clothes that had long since mildewed away to nothing, but in-stead I found a chest packed neatly and tightly. All the clothing had been folded precisely and sealed in clear plastine pouches. I carefully pulled one after another out but opened none of them. Still, from what I could see in the glowrod light, the clothes had all been laundered, leading me to suspect the Caamasi Jedi had taken great pains to care for his friend's effects.
Toward the bottom of the trunk I found boots encased in plastine, as well as a cloak and blanket similarly pouched. Be-low that I saw the lid of a hinged compartment that I lifted up. Inside it was thick foam padding with hollowed spaces for vari-ous items. I easily recognized the slot meant for Nejaa's light-saber. A small first aid kit, a shaving kit and a set of eating utensils all sat in their appropriate slots. Odd coins filled other slots, as did power packs for a variety of items and a positively antique comlink.
What immediately attracted my attention, however, was the rectangular slot filled with static holograms. I fished them out and carried them back over to where the sun's light filtered down through the long chimney. One by one, I flipped through them and found myself smiling though I recognized no one.
I figured out which person had to be Nejaa after a couple of shots. From other items in the picture, especially the lightsaber clipped to his belt, I could tell he'd stood slightly taller than me, but no taller than my father, and he had my trim build. We didn't really look that much alike, except around the eyes and chin. Still, he stood there easily and openly, feet shoulder-width apart, hands open, a smile on his face and life in his eyes. I recognized in his stance the way my father used to stand around and knew I'd adopted the stance as well.
The other figure I found easy to recognize was a Caamasi. Golden down covered him except around the eyes, where pur-ple fur formed a mask around his eyes that spread tendrils up and back to stripe his skull. The Caamasi's large, dark eyes seemed full of inquisitiveness, not the sadness marking the Caamasi I'd seen; but then I'd only seen Caamasi rarely and this shot had been taken before they'd almost all been wiped out. The two of them-my grandfather and his friend-looked weary in some shots, but that was to be expected of people fighting a war. That they also looked content spoke a lot about their commitment to keeping the galaxy safe.
Some of the shots had people I recognized in them. I saw a very. young Jan Dodonna standing with Nejaa. I recalled the general having asked me in Lusankya if he knew my grandfa-ther. He had indeed known him, but I'd not known who my grandfather was at the time. Jan saved my life in that prison. Had he saved yours, too, Nejaa, or was he paying back some ancient debt to you when he saved mine?
Bail Organa appeared in one picture with Nejaa and the Caamasi. Other individuals joined them in group and individual shots, but I didn't positively identify any of the others. The old-style clothes, the youthful faces, could easily have become countless senators and leaders whose aged faces I would have easily recognized. Some struck me as very familiar-annoyingly so-but without someone to tell me who they were or images to use for comparison, I was stuck not knowing.
Suddenly the war holograms ended and I found myself look-ing at peacetime shots. The first showed my grandfather stand-ing there with Nejaa. Nejaa was handing him one of the Jedi Medallions marking Nejaa's elevation to the rank of Master. Then I saw Nejaa with his face pressed cheek to cheek with that of my grandmother. It shocked me because I'd only ever seen her with my grandfather, Rostek. Then, in a picture where the image ran wider, I saw Scerra, Nejaa and a boy who would become my father.
I sagged against the wall and shut my eyes against tears. During my life I'd long heard the cries of downtrodden people who kept saying the Empire was robbing them of their lives and their dignity and the rights they deserved by the simple virtue of their sapience. I'd listened, but not too closely because I found their arguments weak and self-serving. They'd always warned me that someday it would be my turn, that the storm-troopers would be coming for me, and that day it would be too late. I laughed at them then because, with my family, I never imagined the Empire could hurt us.
But hurt us it had. The Empire hadn't even existed when Nejaa died, but the actions of the Emperor forced my father and grandmother to live a lie. Fear of discovery had to have nibbled on my grandfather every day of his life. Knowing he had saved people might have been an antidote for that, but having to endure that fear for so very long was incredible. My respect for him doubled and doubled again. He is a hero who will never be celebrated for what he has done. And there must be more people like him throughout the gala~,--heroes unsung ~om a dark time.
I slipped the holograms into my pocket, then returned and replaced everything save the Corellian Jedi uniform, cloak and boots in the box. I resealed it, then carried my booty out and hid it in the greenhouse. I closed the storm cellar door and reburied it, laying back down the diffusion pad and shoveling the manure back over it.
My grandfather joined me as I finished the job. УFind any-thing of interest down there?Ф
I nodded. УA past I never knew about.Ф I gave him a brave smile. УAnd renewed respect for someone who proved himself a better friend than anyone could ever hope to have.Ф
His eyes misted over for a moment, then he smiled and nod-ded slowly. УBusy day, then. You have a lot to think about.Ф
I smiled. УI do, but that can wait. Right now, a grandson would like to spend time with his grandfather, potting plants, delivering flowers, cruising Treasure Ship Row looking for trou-ble. What do you think?Ф
Rostek Horn smiled broadly and threw an arm over my shoulder. УI think Coronet City is in for some excitement. It's been a while since two Horn men made their presence felt. It'll be a night to remember.Ф
it was a night to remember, but for more than just the great time I had with my grandfather. We did hit Coronet City and dined at the finest restaurant on all Coreilia: Nova Nova. Normally reservations were comlinked in several months in advance, but my grandfather just showed up bearing a bouquet of flowers, and we were admitted to a private room. The food was all served techno-tiny portions arranged on the plate as if they were art. Sensors in the utensils relayed data to discrete holoprojectors, so one knew the exact contents of each mouthful, including hints of what subtle flavors one should expect to taste, or anecdotes concerning the creation of the dish.
Made me wonder if Siolle Tinta's chef, Chid, was working in the kitchen.
After that we went to the private club at the pinnacle of the world's tallest building. The Lastdark Club took its name from the fact that it was the place in the city the sun touched last before night, and from the fact that the majority of the mem-bers considered themselves the most enlightened people on the planet. Back when I worked CorSec We used to joke about the club because we knew none of us could ever afford to join; but my grandfather had become a member in the last three years, and half the plants in the place were hybrids he'd created.
The overwhelming elegance of my surroundings sharply con-trasted with what I had known at the Jedi academy, making Yavin 4 seem but a distant memory. Coronet City seemed more right to me, I fit in better here. The academy's jungle setting had always left me slightly uneasy. I realized, sitting in a plush nerf-hide chair, sipping Corellian brandy and watching the city spread out beneath me, that being city born and bred, I had a preference for urbanity and civilization. Coruscant was too built up for me to feel comfortable there all the time, but here, on CoreIlia, I could feel at home again. Nice place to raise kids.
My grandfather told me stories of Booster Terrik from back before my father got him sent to Kessel, back before Jorj Car'das had eaten up Booster's organization, only in turn to have his organization taken over by Talon Karrde. УSo, you see, when Hal caught Booster that first time, BoosIer considered it pure luck, and forever after worked hard to taunt and elude Hal.Ф My grandfather smiled broadly. УI don't think Booster ever truly appreciated your father's skills as a detective.Ф