"Michael Stackpole "The Bacta War"" - читать интересную книгу автораinvited back to resume our rightful place at the head of the Empire."
"Interesting analysis, and accurate, I think, except in one thing." "And that is?" Vorru's dark eyes shrank to bare slits. "Antilles, Horn, and the others. They have the freedom the Rebels once had. They are a problem we will have to deal with and deal with swiftly." "Or else?" "I was in a position to see them render Imperial Center defenseless." Vorru's voice hardened. "If we don't deal with them I fear they will become a problem with which we cannot deal." 4 It didn't surprise Corran Horn to find Iella Wessiri in the Corellian Sanctuary, but the expression on her face threat-ened to crush his heart in his chest. Her light brown hair had been pulled back into a single braid and her broad shoulders were hunched forward. She sat on the front bench in the small chamber, leaning over and balanced precariously enough that he expected her to fall at any second. The way her grief pulled at her face, arching the corners of her mouth downward, made it seem as if gravity would, in fact, tug her to the floor. Corran hesitated in the doorway of the small domed building. Because of the hostile relationship between the New Republic and the Corellian Diktat, repatriating Corellians who died away from the planet of their birth had become impossible. The Sanctuary had been created by exiled Corel-lians to give their dead a resting place. Unlike Alderaanians, who often sealed their dead in capsules and shot them into orbit within the Graveyard, allowing them to float forever amid the debris that marked where their planet had once been; Corellians compress the carbon residue into raw synthetic diamonds. This imparted a physi-cal immortality to the dead. The diamonds were then brought to the Sanctuary and imbedded in the black walls and ceiling to create a glittering series of constellations as seen from Corellia. The sheer number of diamonds glinting in the ceiling sent a shiver through Corran. We've given a lot to the Rebellion, though other worlds have given as much or more. As beauti-ful as this display is, it is also horrible. The Imperials who wished to make the galaxy over in their own image have, in fact, created here a small galaxy that is entirely given over to mourning. Corran walked forward and slid onto the bench next to Iella. She didn't look over at him, but melted against his shoulder and chest as he put an arm around her. "It's going to be okay, Iella, really." "He never hurt anyone, Corran, never." "I don't imagine Kirtan Loor would agree, but I'll con-cede the point." He felt her chest convulse once, then she looked up at him with red-rimmed brown eyes. "No, you're right." Her mouth made a weak attempt at twisting itself into a smile. "As much as he admired your drive, Corran, Diric really ap-preciated your sense of humor. He said it marked your resil-iency. He thought that as long as you could laugh, especially at yourself, you'd always heal from any trauma." "He was a wise man." He tightened his embrace a bit. "You know he'd hate to see you like this, to think he was causing you this much pain." "I know. That hasn't made it any easier, though." She dabbed at tears with a handkerchief. "I keep thinking that if I'd seen something there, I could have |
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