Star Wars: X-Wing 04: The Bacta War by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction.Star Wars
ISBN: 9780553568042
Publisher: Bantam Books
Published: 1997-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

29

Captain Sair Yonka of the Imperial Star Destroyer Avarice looked back and forth between the two suits of clothes the silver protocol droid held up for him. To the right he had a conservative black suit, cut along vaguely military lines. He knew it would make him look powerful and might even inspire fear in some people. That is not always a bad thing, he reflected, but not wholly appropriate in this instance.

The other suit was completely civilian, and he would have chosen it in a heartbeat except that it was a bright crimson. Just what Isard wears. Despite the fanciful styling, including the fringes at the hem of the jacket and along the sleeves, the bloody color and memory of Isard robbed the suit of its playfulness. That suit, because it was flashier than the black, would be more noticed, but people might miss him altogether, remembering only the clothes. This is not a bad thing either, and desirable right now.

He shook his head. “Let me think about it some more, Poe.” He waved the droid away, but not before he caught a distorted mirror view of himself on its breast. Tall and slender, his black hair and bright blue eyes combined with strongly chiseled features to win the admiration of many women and the jealousy of their men. The touch of white creeping in at his temples had prompted him to grow a black goatee—something that was strictly against Imperial regulations, but not being in the Imperial service anymore, he had no fear of flouting those regulations.

While the warped reflection did not describe his outsides, it certainly did match how he felt inside. Yonka turned and walked out onto the balcony of his twenty-sixth-floor suite at Margath’s. Strains of music drifted down from the 27th Hour Club, but it washed over him without effect. Even the sight of three moons hovering above the placid ocean, two ivory and one blood red, failed to register as anything more than yet another planetary night sky.

Leaning on the balcony rail, Sair Yonka slowly shook his head. He had the distinct feeling he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that oppressive sensation was one he’d lived with for longer than he could remember. While the Emperor was alive, he was able to hide within the protective shell of the government’s legitimacy. I knew what I was doing was right in someone’s eyes. Patrolling the Rim, keeping pirates away from raiding worlds like Elshandruu Pica here, that was a mission no one could deny was necessary. That Rebels were often classified as pirates and dealt with harshly meant nothing. It was fairly common among pirates to call themselves Rebels to justify their predation on Imperial outposts.

Since the Emperor’s death he had clung to his role as a defender of the Empire to justify what he had been called upon to do. He added to that a very real desire to see to it that his people were not ordered into some futile fray at the whim of some self-appointed Warlord.

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