StarCraft: The Dark Templar Saga Book Two. Christie Golden

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      CHAPTER FOUR

      ROSEMARY’S SHORT-NAILED FINGERS FLEW OVER the console, setting in the coordinates immediately after they materialized in normal space. She leaned back, stretching, and finally it seemed as if she had relented enough to tell Jake and Zamara where they were headed.

      “We need to replace the navigation system as well as some other parts that were damaged in the jump. That’s not as difficult as it might sound, because system runners are great little vessels. They’re not pretty, but boy are they functional, and they built thousands and thousands of them. They ended up being a sort of blueprint for most of the systems in place in any size ship today. So they don’t require special equipment—you can swap things in and out pretty easily and pretty quickly. They’re designed to keep going no matter how badly you have to patch them up. That’s why they’re so beloved by black marketers.”

      “You sound like you’ve done this a lot,” Jake said.

      “I have,” Rosemary answered. “Hell, Jake, I’ve done pretty much anything that’s dangerous, illegal, or fun.”

      She offered a grin to Jake, still stretching in a fashion that brought a bit of color to his face. The grin was playful and uncomplicated, and he’d seen so precious little of either from her that he almost forgot to smile back. He realized that now that her anger at him had passed, she was starting to enjoy this. She was, as she had just said, in her element.

      You were right to bring her along with us, Jake said. I have no idea how to even pilot a ship, let alone repair one or navigate. And as for—

      His mind’s eye filled with the image of Rosemary blowing the face off a former colleague who’d turned traitor. Of her whirling precisely and calculatedly shooting someone who’d spat at Jake. And then he thought of what he’d done—or, rather, what Zamara had done, using his body—to one Phillip Randall, prized assassin of Ethan Stewart.

      You could have learned how to fight and kill on your own. We did not need her for that.

      I don’t want to learn to be like her in that way, Zamara. Or like you—not about that. I don’t want that at all. The very thought seemed to make his headache return.

      There are many things you do not want to do, Jacob Jefferson Ramsey, and yet you must do them.

      There was a hint of sorrow emanating from Zamara, even while making this firm statement. Jake knew that the protoss disliked using him so, though there was never any question that she would. This was a new development in their relationship; it had certainly not been present at the outset. She had been grimly determined to see her mission through, and her lack of concern about him had been as impersonal as it was implacable. That had changed over the last several days, as she had given him more and more information, more memories.

      Will there be more? Memories, like what you did with Temlaa and Savassan?

      Yes. There is much more that you still need to know. More that you must understand before I can give you the final piece. I would not burden you with such if it were not absolutely necessary.

      That’s the least of my concerns about the situation. Now that I understand what to expect, I … am enjoying learning about your people. As an archeologist I find it fascinating.

      “Well, it’s a good thing you’re along for the ride then,” Jake said lightly to Rosemary. The entire mental exchange with Zamara had taken just a couple of seconds. “So, are you going to tell where you’re taking us? You said something about going back in time?”

      “Like I said, I had to cobble things together. I know all the spots to get spares. This one happens to have some historical significance about it. Ever heard of a little thing called the Battle of Brontes?”

      “It sounds familiar.”

      She gaped at him. “Familiar? Where were you when all this stuff went down?”

      “On a little planet called Pegasus, happily forgotten by the rest of the sector. We heard about the bigger events, sure, but I never followed the battles. Just the big things. Like the zerg and the protoss and the wiping out of entire colonies.”

      She shook her head. “Wow. Huh. I never thought of myself as being particularly up on current events, but I suppose you have to be, if you want to know which side your bread’s buttered on. Anyway, there was a Confederacy general named Edmund Duke. There was a pretty major skirmish here against some of the Sons of Korhal. After a space battle, salvagers, scavengers, and thieves usually move in to take whatever is left … but our buddy Val’s dad is rebuilding an empire and he needs all the ship parts he can lay his hands on. This place has become a salvage yard for the Dominion, and we will need to be careful getting in, and getting out. We’re just about in viewing range.” She hit a couple of buttons. “Ah, there we go.”

      Rosemary had brought them to a graveyard. Jake thought that it had indeed been a significant battle, to leave this much wreckage. He wondered if any effort had been made to find the bodies, or if they were out there along with pieces of ships, spinning slowly in starlit darkness, nothing more than space junk now. Some of the vessels appeared largely intact, others were obviously unspaceworthy pieces of debris.

      “Okay, so far so good,” said Rosemary, breaking his train of thought. “No sign of a welcoming party coming to intercept us. Chances are we haven’t been noticed yet. We go in dark and drift in … just another piece of the junk.” She touched a few controls and the power went down with a soft sigh. Jake and Rosemary were enveloped in dim starlight as the controls went dark. “Slow and unnoticed,” Rosemary said. “More people than us know about this place. There’s usually a lot of unsavory types here even with the Dominion’s presence—smugglers and pirates and so on. There’ll likely be a couple of Wraiths beating a patrol around the place, but we’ve got a system runner, so we should be able to outrun them if we’re spotted.”

      Jake felt a twinge of amusement at the thought of Rosemary’s referring to anyone else as “unsavory types.” That sensation was shortly replaced by unease as they moved toward the dead ships. His headache increased as they passed several tense moments while СКАЧАТЬ