"Michael Stackpole "The Bacta War"" - читать интересную книгу автора

distinct feeling he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that
oppressive sensation was one he'd lived with for longer than he could remember.
While the Em-peror was alive, he was able to hide within the protective shell of
the government's legitimacy. / knew what I was doing was right in someone's
eyes. Patrolling the Rim, keeping pi-rates away from raiding worlds like
Elshandruu Pica here, that was a mission no one could deny was necessary. That
Rebels were often classified as pirates and dealt with harshly meant nothing. It
was fairly common among pirates to call themselves Rebels to justify their
predation on Imperial out-posts.
Since the Emperor's death he had clung to his role as a defender of the Empire
to justify what he had been called upon to do. He added to that a very real
desire to see to it that his people were not ordered into some futile fray at
the whim of some self-appointed Warlord. Zsinj had tried to re-cruit him, but
Yonka had steadfastly refused to take any or-ders except those coming from
Coruscant. He bound himself to Ysanne Isard, because she seemed the best bet for
dealing with the Rebels. Her focus on destroying them, then reestab-lishing the
Empire seemed to make the most sense to me.
Then she went and lost Coruscant. Yonka bounced a fist off the railing. He'd
followed her orders and helped her estab-lish her presence on Thyferra, but that
was before he heard
about the Krytos virus. He appreciated her sense of pragma-tism in dealing with
the Rebels, but the virus targeted all sorts of folks who never so much as
raised their voices in support of the Rebels. Her use of the virus meant she was
capable of anything and that scared Sair Yonka.
The fear did not surprise him as much as the depth of it did. He knew she had
operatives in his crew and had no doubt they'd strike at him were she to give
the appropriate orders. Defying her was something that would have to be done-he
knew that. But not yet. Escorting convoys is noth-ing new to me or the Avarice.
Perhaps if we're given a mission like the destruction of Halanit I will balk.
Until then, a con-frontation has no merit.
He sighed. He had Isard on one hand and Antilles's Rogues on the other. An
Imperial Star Destroyer Mark II, like the Avarice, had little to fear from a
squadron of snubfighters. He acknowledged that their use of proton torpedoes
could, in fact, hurt his ship, but his own pilots were very good and his
turbolaser crews repeatedly drilled in antiship and antitor-pedo fire missions.
He had no doubt his ship could hurt the Rogues, but, he suddenly realized, he
wasn't certain how much he wanted to hurt them.
They have no choice but to see me as a threat-as the most significant threat
Isard has for them. He'd read the per-formance reports from the Virulence ever
since Lakwii Varr-scha had taken over as Captain. They were not impressive in
the least. The Virulence's fighters scrambled slowly against Rogue threats and
had never even come close to downing any of the Rogues. While his ship had yet
to kill any of them either, they did drive them off faster, preventing them from
getting off second and even third proton torpedo volleys against the convoys.
He shook his head again and forced thoughts of the Rogues and Ysanne Isard from
his mind. The Avarice orbited through the night sky above, forming a dart-shaped
silhouette as it passed before the bloody moon. It's up there, as are all my
worries, while I am down here. I came here to relax, so I shall do so, though
not so many others would find this situa-tion relaxing.
Elshandruu Pica's Imperial Moff, Riit Jandi, had married a woman nearly forty