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

Despite the efforts of everyone to include him in what was going on, Corran
began to retreat a bit as melancholy over his father's death slowly seeped into
his heart. It was all too easy for him to imagine his father at the gathering,
again hearing his laughter and watching the others react to the sto-ries Hal
used to tell. They would have loved him here. And he would have loved being
here, too.
A chill ran down Corran's spine. The openness of the families twisted like a
vibroblade into his guts. His father, Hal Horn, had known his own father, the
Jedi Master Nejaa Halcyon. Hal had never told Corran anything about Nejaa. /
know he did that to protect me, but I know he had to have been proud of his
father. When I told my father that I had "hunches" and he told me to go with
them, he knew they were manifestations of my-our-Jedi heritage. That was his
quiet way of telling me of his pride, but it must have torn him up to have to
remain silent. Perhaps he anticipated telling me about that stuff later, after
the Rebels had destroyed the Em-pire, but he never lived that long.
Corran absented himself from the gathering, walking up the steps to the surface
of the planet. The twin suns had set, letting the day's heat begin to bleed off
into space. The chill creeping into the desert likewise began to gnaw at him. It
found a willing ally in the sorrow sloshing around in Corran's guts.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant Horn, I don't want to intrude."
Corran looked back and saw Jula Darklighter silhouetted against the glow from
the pit mansion. "No intrusion, sir. I came from a small family, so this is
rather overwhelming."
"I came from a big family, and it's overwhelming." Jula glanced down at the
ground and toed an alkali crust into dust. "I wanted to say thank you for taking
care of my son out there."
Corran smiled, but shook his head. "Gavin takes care of himself out there."
"He said you had confidence in him and that you got another pilot to stop
picking on him. He didn't say it that way, mind you, but he's not hard to read."
Corran laughed lightly. "No, your boy-young man- does tend to digitize and
broadcast his emotions. The situa-tion he refers to, though, was one where
another pilot, Bror Jace, and I were having a bit of a conflict, and Gavin just
happened to find himself in the middle. I'm glad he took heart in my having
confidence in him, because I did and do believe in him and his skills, but he
needs no protection. You raised a man of whom you can be proud."
Jula smiled and nodded, then looked Corran straight in the eyes. "He's almost
ended up like Biggs, hasn't he?"
"We've all almost ended up like Biggs, sir. The Empire may be in retreat, but
there are plenty of folks still willing to fight for them." Corran raised a hand
to his breastbone and unconsciously stroked the Jedi medallion he wore. "Gavin
has been wounded and did almost die, but the fact is that he was too tough to
die. As a pilot, he's getting better and better and has vaped his share of the
enemy we've faced. He's brave without being stupid. He's the sort of person who
is the Re-bellion's backbone and the reason it has succeeded as well as it has."
"What you're saying, Lieutenant Horn, makes me very proud indeed." Jula sighed.
"It also fortifies me against antic-ipating the worst. I imagine your parents
are equally worried about you and proud of you."
Corran frowned. "My parents are dead, sir."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."