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

know that you've developed an affection for the son of his nemesis."
" 'Developed an affection,' have I?" Mirax toyed with the hold-out blaster. "I
thought we were a bit beyond that stage."
"True, we are, but no fair dodging the question."
She frowned. "No, I haven't told him. While you were dead, there was no sense
mentioning it-I didn't want to be dealing with his anger while my heart still
felt ripped out of me. And in the time since you came back from the dead, well,
I've been busy; and ever since he retired, I'm never really sure where he is."
"Most folks, when they retire, settle in one spot and re-lax."
"Most folks aren't my father." Mirax smiled slightly. "For Booster, retirement
means he still does deals, but he does them for friends, not for profit. Folks
use him as a nego-tiator-he works out terms and the like. It keeps him getting
the best of the business without the risk. He's happy, which is better than the
alternative."
Which is why you've not mentioned us to him. Corran nodded. / fully understand.
My father wouldn't have, so not having to explain it to him is about the only
good thing I can think of concerning his being dead.
Gavin came in through the doorway and paused in the foyer near the droid
detection unit. He twisted left and right, shaking a cloud of Tatooine's fine
dust from his tan cloak.
Beneath it he wore what was once a white shirt, a black vest, dark brown pants,
and knee-high boots. Around his middle he had strapped on a blaster and had tied
the lower end of the holster around his right thigh.
"Looks the fair pirate, our friend." Mirax raised a hand. "Gavin, over here."
Corran agreed with Mirax's assessment, though Gavin's sloppy grin kind of marred
the image. "Everything set?"
Gavin nodded. "I have a landspeeder waiting out front. It's not much, but it was
the best I could do. I tried to borrow one off Uncle Huff, but he said the last
time he loaned a landspeeder to someone from Rogue Squadron it wasn't re-turned
in the best of conditions."
"We might as well head out, then." Mirax stood and clipped the hold-out blaster
to her belt. She dug around in a pouch for some credits as she headed toward the
bar. "How much?"
Wuher shook his head. "Your friends got it." He glanced toward the Rodian and
Devaronian.
She smiled. "And they took care of you, too, yes?"
"The spirit of generosity, they were."
"Good."
Mirax followed Gavin from the cantina and Corran brought up the rear. He poked
his head through the middle of his desert tabard and settled it down around his
shoulders. The side flaps allowed for quick access to his blaster or the
lightsaber, but he hoped he would not have need to resort to either.
He felt kind of awkward wearing the lightsaber. It had always seemed to him to
be something of a genteel weapon of limited use. In his line of work, a Stokhli
spray stick and a blaster were usually considered more than enough to handle any
situation. Lightsabers had been all but unknown while the Empire considered them
a sign of being a Jedi, but now that Luke Skywalker was a great hero, some folks
had devel-oped an affectation for them. It seemed to be the sort of weapon one
carried if one was afraid to carry a blaster.
That characterization of it made Corran uneasy to wear the weapon, but flipping