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

smile that flashed white teeth at her.
Though neither as tall or slender as he was, Aellyn shared with him black hair.
She wore hers long, so it descended well past her shoulders and lay gently along
the swelling of her breasts. The gown she wore had been woven of a wispy fiber
that had been dyed a midnight blue. It covered her from thin shoulder straps
down to her ankles and glowed electrically where the light hit it, yet proved
sheer enough to tantalize him with visions of what it sheathed. Her blue eyes
sparkled with mischief, promising much and summoning most pleasur-able memories
to his consciousness.
The slight breeze from the garden brought the scent of flowers to his nose and
teased playfully with the skirts of her gown. Her glance darted toward the open
doors and the darkness beyond. Yonka fondly recalled having made love with her
in the garden, beneath the canopy of stars and the trio of Elshandruu Pica's
moons. His smile broadening, he set the Narcolethe on the side table next to the
door and ex-tended his hand toward her.
For a half second, primarily because the dark blue of the armor matched
perfectly the color of Aellyn's gown, the two blaster-toting figures entering
through the garden doorway seemed appropriate. Only when Aellyn opened her mouth
to
scream and the second figure shot her did he realize they were not part of any
surprise Aellyn had cooked up for him. Even so, the blue hue of the stun shot
that hit her still seemed somehow in keeping with the theme of the evening.
Yonka raised his hands. He heard the comlink clipped to the leader's faceplate
buzz, but he could make out none of the words. The man nodded, then reached up
and removed his helmet. Despite the sweat pasting brown locks to the in-truder's
forehead and the edges of his face, Yonka immedi-ately recognized the man. It
can't be . . .
Yonka felt his chest tighten, yet fought to keep his voice even. "You needn't
have had her shot, Antilles."
"Wouldn't do to have witnesses, would it?" Wedge nod-ded toward her without
letting -his blaster waver from Yonka's direction. "We could have killed her,
but unneces-sary bloodshed is not something we revel in. In fact, we don't like
it at all."
Eliminate me, and you assume my ship won't function at all well. Yonka found
himself flattered, but he was too much of a realist to allow vanity to lift his
spirits. "One man does not mean much on a Starship."
Wedge smiled. "You underestimate your worth, Captain Yonka. Like it or not, as
you go, so goes the Avarice."
"Killing me will only have a minor effect on the Ava-rice."
"I agree, Captain Yonka."
"Yet you have come to kill me."
"Kill you?" Wedge shook his head. "I've come to offer you a deal."
Yonka blinked in amazement. "Deal? What kind of deal?"
Antilles positively beamed. "A deal that starts with mak-ing you a very rich
man."
30
Fliry Vorru strode slowly down the ramp from the belly of his Lambda-class
shuttle then stopped midway as he saw Erisi Dlarit waiting for him at the edge
of the landing pad. She wore a smile that seemed inviting, though her blue eyes
seemed focused distantly, well beyond him. He found both her smile and presence