Read Online Isard's Revenge by Michael A. Stackpole - Free Book Online

its honor bounded up in freeing the prisoners, right?”
    He felt her lie down on the bed beside him. “The first jump of your course seems well plotted.”
    “Okay, so then it would seem that our enemy expects us to be thinking a bit more with our emotions than our brains. The enemy has made a move, now we will react to it.” He opened his left eye and turned his head to look at her. “Urlor is bait for a trap meant to destroy Rogue Squadron.”
    “That also seems to follow.” She pursed her lips for a moment. “You’ll have to assume a trap is waiting for you no matter what you decide to do. You’ll have to plan in some safeguards.”
    “So, tell me, am I just being egotistical by assuming this enemy wants a piece of me and Rogue Squadron?”
    “Corran, you’re a pilot who used to be a member of CorSec. Ego gets issued with the uniforms.” Mirax gave him a quick smile. “In this case, though, I don’t think you’re wrong. Whoever is behind this is cruel and evil—and there’s a list of ex-Imperial leaders we could run down and find plenty of candidates who fit that description.”
    “This person isn’t going to be on that list.” Corran frowned. “We’re dealing with someone who was close to Isard, who sees Rogue Squadron as the folks who destroyed Isard. They’re focused on retribution. I don’t think they’ll win, in the long run, but I am afraid lots more people will die, as did Urlor, before they’re stopped.”
    Gavin Darklighter swirled the golden Corellian brandy in the small tumbler, then tossed it off. He felt a small bead of brandy leak from the corner of his mouth and work its way down through his goatee. The rest of the fiery liquid burned its way down his throat, but none of its warmth radiated out to dispel the chill that had settled over him.
    He idly swiped at the droplet with his left hand, then sighed and shook his head. “The way that man died tonight, it took me back to when we were helping the victims of the Krytos virus here on Coruscant. They bled, too, bled and died.”
    Asyr Sei’lar nodded mutely from the chair oppositehim. After coming back to their apartment from the party, she’d changed into a purple silk dressing gown. Sitting in the blocky chair, she had drawn her feet up so they disappeared into the robe. Of her body he could only see her white-furred hands and her head, with the diagonal blaze of white fur that ran from her forehead down over her left eye and across her cheek. Her markings made her somewhat unique among Bothans—as did her attitude.
    Gavin set his glass down on the arm of his chair. “I guess I was hoping, with Thrawn gone, that things would begin to settle down. I mean, I know I’m not even twenty years old, but there are times I feel positively ancient.”
    Asyr gave him a half smile. “Battles and death act as force-multipliers when it comes to time. Always having to be alert and ready to deal with violence wears you down. It’s wearing me down, too.”
    Gavin’s head came up. “Really?”
    “That surprises you?”
    “Well, yes, I guess it does.” He hesitated a moment, letting his thoughts order themselves. “You graduated from the Bothan Martial Academy, so I would have thought you would have training in how to handle this sort of thing.”
    Asyr barked a little laugh. “Gavin, military schools and training are long on teaching you how to destroy things, but they don’t much deal with the aftermath of that destruction. Everyone assumes that if you win you’ll feel good and if you lose you’ll be dead, so how you feel doesn’t matter. By the time war begins to grind you down, it’s pretty much had that same effect on everyone, so the war slows down and stops.”
    “Or you get rolled over and killed and your feelings don’t matter.”
    “Right.” She turned her head and looked at him with her violet eyes. “Are you saying you want to resign from the squadron, start a family, do something else?”
    Gavin frowned. “The