Star Wars: Republic Commando: True Colors by Karen Traviss

Author:Karen Traviss
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: Star Wars fiction, Space Opera, General, Science fiction, Imaginary wars and battles, Adventure, Fiction, Media Tie-In, Good and evil
ISBN: 9780345498007
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2007-10-30T07:00:00+00:00

Tropix island resort, Dorumaa, Cularin system, 478 days after Geonosis

Tropix was a manufactured paradise with every facility a sun-seeking visitor might want, and as far from Skirata's idea of bliss as he could imagine.

It was all bright colors, noise, and heat. Lulari trees imported from Hikil tinkled like wind chimes in the breeze, and their heady scent was pungent enough to give him the start of a headache. Mird bolted along the shell-paved beachfront path ahead of Vau, whipping its tail and whimpering with excitement as it picked up strange new scents.

It was a Separatist planet, at least as far as the Cularin system was Sep-loyal. Skirata felt everywhere was enemy territory regardless of whether it was red, blue, or yellow on the charts, and didn't let the stereotyped idyll weaken his guard.

"Well, this is classy," he said. Beings of various species lounged on a white sand beach lapped by a turquoise sea so vividly blue that it could have been dyed. Twi'lek waitresses whose skin almost matched it wandered among the vacation-ers with trays of drinks. Droids trundled between, raking sand and somehow managing to leave no tracks behind them. "Imagine being stuck here for two weeks. What do you reckon, Mer'ika?"

Mereel shrugged. Out of armor, in a plain white shirt and beige pants, he suddenly looked so ordinary-so civilian- that Skirata could only think of all the routine things he was denied.

"I could probably find something to occupy me," Mereel said. "Do you two realize how much you look like glitterstim dealers?"

Vau looked back over his shoulder, a rather splendid pearl-inlaid blaster shimmering in his holster. "I'm going for the casual but menacing look. Glad I pulled it off..."

"It's the Arakyd special, Walon. Says more about you than credits ever can." The gangster look was less conspicuous here than full Mandalorian armor. The idea was to look like they'd come for sportfishing so that submerging Aay'han offshore didn't attract the wrong sort of interest. "Looks rather expensive."

"Another bauble from the Vau deposit box. My great-grandfather is said to have shot a servant with it for serving his caf too hot."

Skirata almost went for the bait. "You're just saying that to make me mad, aren't you?"

Vau's expression was unreadable. "You know I'd never do such a thing."

Mereel put a restraining hand on Skirata's shoulder as he overtook him. The terrible thing about Vau and his family was that it was perfectly possible. Instead, Skirata tried to concentrate on the inexplicably generous Vau, the man who'd just given him millions for the frankly sentimental and unselfish purpose of rescuing clones, rather than the sadistic martinet who'd nearly killed Atin to toughen him up.

"Udesii," Mereel muttered. "Take it easy, Kal'buir"

Skirata did his best. He took a deep breath as he walked into the lobby of the resort's huge hotel complex and focused on being a glitterstim baron on a short break. He was a non-descript, short, gray-haired, middle-aged man who could pass unnoticed as a vagrant in the right clothes, or bring a room to a halt simply by walking with the right degree of swagger.

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