Star Wars The Force unleashed by Sean Williams
Part 1
IMPERIAL
CHAPTER 1
The life of Darth Vader's secret student took a strange and deadly turn the day his Master first spoke of General Rahm Kota.
He'd had no warning that a moment of such significance was approaching. During his nightly meditations, kneeling on the metal floor of his chamber while construction droids built the Executor, unaware of his existence, he had seen no visions in the pure, angry red of the lightsaber that he held like a burning brand in front of his eyes. Although he had stared until the world vanished and the dark side flowed through him in a bloody tide, the future had remained closed.
Nothing, therefore, prepared him for the sudden deviation from the day's punishing and unpredictable exercises. His Master was not a patient teacher; neither was he a talkative one. He preferred action to debate, just as he preferred recrimination to reward. Never once in all the days they had sparred together, with lightsaber, telekinesis, or suggestion, had the Dark Lord offered a single word of encouragement. And that was as it should be, he knew. A teacher's job was not to drag a student along a single, well worn path. Rather it was to let the student forge his or her own way through the forest, intervening only when the student was hopelessly lost and needed to be corrected.
Even on the Wrong paths, he knew, lay some wisdom. What didn't kill him only made him more powerful in the dark side.
And there had been many, many times he had thought he might die...
Breathing heavily after a punishing round of blows, lightsaber lowered in submission, he knelt before his Master and prepared for the killing strike. He could feel the wrath radiating from the Dark Lord like heat-a visceral, angry heat that brought out his skin in gooseflesh. For a moment that seemed to stretch for years, all he could hear was the regular, implacable respiration that kept the man inside the mask alive.
"You were weak when I found you." The voice seemed to come from the far end of a long, deep tunnel. "You should never have survived my training."
He closed his eyes. He had heard these words before. They were the closest thing to a bedtime story he'd had as a child. The moral he had taken from them was burned into his mind: Learn... or die.
Behind his eyelids he pictured again the clean, cleansing heat of the lightsaber. He had brushed his skin against it many times, defying the pain, and taken numerous small wounds while dueling with his Master. He imagined that he knew what the blade would feel like when it struck him down. Part of him longed for it.
The lightsaber drifted so close to his neck that he could smell his hair burning.
"But now, your hatred has become your strength."
The lightsaber retreated. With a hiss it deactivated.
"At last, the dark side is your ally."
He didn't dare nod or look up. What was this? Some new ruse to lure him into overconfidence and failure?
His Master's next words made his heart trip a beat. "Rise, my apprentice."
Apprentice. So he had always thought himself, but never before had it been said aloud! And that strange motion with the lightsaber... Could he possibly have just been knighted?
His lightsaber retracted. It was all he could do to balance on knees that felt suddenly made of rubber. The black shape looming over him was unreadable, limned with crimson from the light of the star shining through the wide viewport to their right. Metal, angular, and functional, the space around them was as familiar to him as the scars on the back of his hand, but suddenly, disconcertingly, everything seemed different.
The apprentice kept his eyes up and his voice level.
"What is your will, my Master?"
"You have defeated many of my rivals. Your training is nearly complete. It is time now to face your first true test."
A roll call of past missions sped through the apprentice's mind. Lord Vader had instructed him to dispatch numerous enemies within the Empire down the years: spies and thieves, mainly, with the occasional high-ranking traitor as well. He felt only satisfaction at having fulfilled his duty. His victims had brought their fates upon themselves, these vermin that gnawed at the footings of the Empire's magnificent edifice.
But this was different. He could sense it in more than his Master's words. Darth Vader wasn't talking about some low-life smuggler with no awareness at all of the Force. There could be only one foe he was worthy to fight now.
"Your spies have located a Jedi?"
"Yes. General Rahm Kota." The name meant nothing to the apprentice: just one of many in an archive of unconfirmed Jedi kills. "He is attacking a critical shipyard above Nar Shaddaa. You will destroy him and bring me his lightsaber."
Excitement filled the apprentice. He had trained and hoped for this moment as long as he could remember. At last it had come. He could never truly call himself a Sith until he had taken the life of one of his Master's traditional enemies.
"I'll leave at once, Master."
He had taken barely a step toward the door when Darth Vader's irresistible voice stopped him. "The Emperor cannot discover you."
"As you wish, my Master."
"Leave no witnesses. Kill everyone aboard, Imperials and insurgents alike."
The apprentice nodded, keeping his sudden uncertainty carefully clouded.
"Do not fail in this."
The lightsaber hanging back at his hip was a comforting, reassuring weight. "No, my lord," he said, back straight and voice firm.
Darth Vader turned away and gripped his hands behind his back. The red sun painted his helmet with lava highlights.
Thus dismissed, his secret apprentice hurried about his latest, darkest duty.
* * *
General Rahm Kota.
The name ran through his mind as he hurried through the warren connecting his Master's secret chambers. They were sparse, functional spaces, consisting of a meditation chamber, a droid workshop, sleeping quarters large enough for one, and a hangar deck. All were on a concealed level of Darth Vader's flagship, a space long since written out of the floor plans; it would go unnoticed by the future crew.
The emperor cannot discover you.
Excited though he was by the thought of hunting Jedi, the reminder of the goal his Master allowed him to share was instantly sobering. All his life he had been trained to turn fear into anger, and anger into power. It was no different, he realized, for Darth Vader. Where else could Lord Vader look for increased power than to the Emperor himself? People were either predators or prey. That was one of the most basic rules of life. Together, Darth Vader and his apprentice would ensure that their joint power only increased.
But first he had to survive an encounter with a Jedi. That his Master had found one at liberty was unsurprising. A handful were suspected to have survived the Great Jedi Purge, and none was more adept at finding them than Darth Vader. The dark side infiltrated every corner of the galaxy; nothing could remain hidden from it forever. Perhaps one day, the apprentice thought, he, too, could seek out his enemies by their thoughts and feelings alone, but like the visions of the future that were closed to him, that ability remained elusive. He had never met a Jedi. Their natures were mysterious to him.
Their history, however, was not. His Master set no lesson plans or written examinations, but Darth Vader did give him access to records surviving from the Republic and the Order he had helped unseat from its position of undeserved privilege. The apprentice had devoted himself to the study, understanding that knowledge of his enemy might mean the difference one day between life and death.
The name still brought forth no details of combat styles, character, or last sightings from his memory. He would access the records when he reached the Rogue Shadow. There would be time to research on the journey to Nar Shaddaa. If he dug deeply enough, he might find some small detail that would give him an edge when he most needed one. That was the only preparation he required.
Entering the hangar bay, he wound his way through the familiar maze of crates, weapons racks, and starfighter parts. The ambient lighting was dim, with shadows pooling in every corner. The air tasted of metal and ozone-a sharp stink that had by now become very familiar. For some, the underbelly of a Star Destroyer might have seemed a strange place to grow up, but for him it was a comfort to be surrounded by such unambiguous symbols of technological and political power. Ships like these had patrolled the trade lanes of the galaxy for years. They had put down insurrections and quashed resistance around hundreds of worlds. Where else would a Sith apprentice live and learn?
Kill everyone aboard, Imperials and insurgents alike. Leave no witnesses.
Even as he mulled over this new development, a familiar snap-hiss sounded to his right and a glowing blue-white blade sprang into life in a dark corner of the hangar. A brown-robed figure ran forward, weapon raised.
Instantly in a fighting crouch, the apprentice brought his own blade up to block the blow, teeth bared in a delighted snarl.
He and his adversary held the pose for a bare second, light-sabers locked across their chests. The apprentice quickly sized up the being who had attacked him. Human male, fair-haired and bearded, with calm, serious eyes and a firm set to his jaw. Anyone within living memory of the Clone Wars-or possessing free access to the Jedi Archives-would have recognized him immediately.
Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, High General of the Galactic Republic and master of the Soresu form of lightsaber combat, slid his deadly blade down and to the right, ducking at the same time to avoid the inevitable countersweep. Sparks flew as the apprentice Force-leapt high into the air and landed with perfect agility on top of a stack of crates. He reached out with his cupped left hand and swept a metal tool kit across the hangar bay, toward his opponent's head. Kenobi ducked and leapt up after him, deflecting a flurry of blows that would have left an ordinary man in pieces, then responding with a sweep of his own that sent the apprentice dodging backward, jumping from one stack to another in temporary retreat.
So the duel proceeded for almost a minute, with Kenobi and the apprentice dancing like acrobatic Gados from stack to stack, lightsabers spinning and clashing, racks and tools turned into temporary weapons as they hurled themselves from one to the other. The racket was enormous, and the threat very real. Kenobi slashed a new rip in the sleeve of the apprentice's combat suit with a move that would have taken his arm off at the elbow had he not moved in time. Twice he felt rather than saw the Jedi's blade sweep over his head.
The apprentice wasn't afraid of dying. His only fear was of failing his Master, and that fear he put to good use. The dark side ruined through him, made him strong and resilient. He felt more powerful than he ever had before.
Vader was sending him to hunt one of his old foes-and how better to warm up for the mission than by killing the man who had once been among the most famous Jedi in the galaxy?
Alive with murderous intent, the apprentice rushed forward, his red blade swinging, to finish the job.
CHAPTER 2
At the sound of an unfamiliar energy weapon activating nearby, Juno Eclipse looked up from her work and reached for the blaster pistol at her side. She had just about finished sealing up the hull of the Rogue Shadow, and her thoughts had already turned to testing the new systems she'd installed when this distraction had come along to ruin her concentration. Combat drills weren't unknown on large Imperial vessels, but she'd yet to see anyone on the secure deck-indeed, anyone anywhere on the ship-apart from Lord Vader. Her appointment was still so recent, and so soon after the catastrophe on Callos, that she felt compelled to treat any unexpected development with caution.
Two weapons were in play, humming and clashing, and the harsh, almost percussive sound was punctuated by noises of physical violence. Metal banged and crashed as though a dozen troopers were throwing armor at one another. There were many fragile components stored in the hangar, some of them actively dangerous if handled carelessly, but a cry of anger stalled on her lips. There was something about the sound of those weapons... something familiar that she couldn't quite place...
Putting down her welder, she disengaged the safety on her pistol and moved stealthily out from under the ship. At first glance, the Rogue Shadow wasn't much to look at: a twin-armed, long-bodied starship with the chassis of a small transport, two solar gather panels on the starboard side, and a larger weapons pod to port. That, however, was the point. A prototype intentionally designed to look common, unremarkable, it was in fact a combat vessel possessing the fastest hyperdrive Juno had ever worked with, plus a bona fide cloaking system. That, on top of first-rate scanners and sensors, competitive sublight engines, and powerful deflector shields, made the Rogue Shadow the most fascinating ship she'd flown.
Or would fly, if she survived her first day on the job.
"Your record impresses me, Captain Eclipse," Lord Vader had told her little more than a week ago. Barely scrubbed after her return from Callos and still shell-shocked from what had happened there with the Black Eight, she had felt none of the pride she might ordinarily have taken. "Few pilots of your caliber also share your dear sense of duty."
"Thank you, Lord Vader."
"I have a new assignment for you. Some would consider it a reward, were they to learn of it. They will not. Is that understood?"
Although she didn't yet understand, not remotely, she had nodded. Darth Vader had given her directions to the flagship's hidden level and described the vessel that she would find there, which would be hers to pilot.
"You will be working with an agent of mine operating under the call sign Starkiller. He will make himself known to you shortly. I am placing a considerable amount of trust in you, Captain. Be sure you don't give me reason to doubt it. The price for failure has never been higher."
"I do understand, Lord Vader." To forestall his dismissing her, for he seemed about to, she asked, "But what is our assignment, sir? You have yet to explain."
"That will become clear." The masked figure had already turned away. She knew the conversation was over.
An obedient Imperial officer, Juno had done as she was told and gone to see her new command. The ship had impressed her, requiring only a small amount of tinkering to make it function at its full potential. But now this strange clamor, this rowdy duel had taken over the hangar and, by the sound of it, threatened to spill out of Lord Vader's secret spaces and into the wider ship.
Creeping around a cryo cylinder taller than she was, Juno finally caught sight of the combatants. Her blue eyes widened in surprise.
What struck her first were the weapons: glowing swords of a type she had seen only once before, on an old, forbidden holo her father had found in the depths of their new home's database. He had shown it to her before erasing it with a snarl. "Murderers," he had declared of the figures she'd glimpsed: brown-robed men and women of various species, fighting droids with shining swords of pure light. "Traitors, all of them."
"What did they do?" She had been younger then, not yet fully cognizant of the frustration and resentment her father kept bottled up inside him. It only fully manifested when she gave it reason, and it was only ever directed at her.
"What did they do?" He turned on her, tone harsh and disparaging. "The Jedi filth betrayed Palpatine-that's all they did. What rubbish do your teachers fill your head with if you don't even know that?"
The memory of his mockery still stung. Juno forced herself to put it aside while she assessed what was happening before her. Two men-one bearded and solemn, the other much the same age as her, stubble-haired and thin as a whip-were dueling with weapons identical to those of the hated Jedi. One blade was so bright and blue, it burned almost white. Its counterpart was red and just as deadly. When they clashed, sparks flew in all directions. The men leapt and tumbled with inhuman agility. When they gestured, metal walls buckled and engine parts flew like missiles.
She didn't dare make a sound. Every muscle was frozen as she crouched in the shadows, filled with a mixture of fear and awe. In all her years of service to the Empire, she had never seen anything like it. Heard rumors, yes-of Lord Vader's arcane powers and of the cylindrical hilt that hung at his side-but seen nothing. It had been easy to dismiss the rumors as scaremongering and propaganda disseminated to instill fear and encourage loyalty. She had never needed to be threatened into service, so she had happily ignored them.
Now she was wishing she had paid closer attention.
Things became stranger still when the younger of the combatants, with a look of wild satisfaction, rammed his crimson lightsaber through the chest of his opponent. Defeated, the older man dropped to his knees, a look of shock spreading across his face.
That expression was shared by Juno when the form of the older man began to spark and flicker like a hologram-which, she realized an instant later, was exactly what he was. Arms, legs, torso, and face sputtered and dissolved, revealing the bipedal form of a droid beneath. He stirred and fell forward with a clatter of metal on metal.
"Ah, master. Another excellent duel." The droid's words were muffled until the young man who had "killed" him rolled him over onto his back.
"You caught me by surprise, PROXY," the man said with an easy affection that belied his former ferocity. "I haven't fought that training program in years. I assumed you'd erased it."
The droid struggled to stand, but succeeded only in losing his balance and almost falling again. His owner caught him in time and helped him straighten.
"Easy, PROXY. You're malfunctioning."
"It's my fault, master," the droid said with an electronic sigh, looking down at the smoking hole in his chest. "I had hoped that using an older training module would catch you off guard and allow me to finally kill you. I'm sorry I failed you again."
A concerned smile flickered across the young man's face. "I'm sure you'll keep trying."
"Of course, master. It is my primary programming."
Droid and master began moving through the maze of debris across the hangar. Juno remembered herself in time. Before they could see her, she ducked down behind cover and hurried back to the ship. Their voices were growing louder as they approached. She frantically reholstered the pistol and reached for her welder.
"Well, you won't be ambushing me again until we get your central stabilizer replaced-and that could take weeks, this far from the Core..."
She didn't look up as the odd pair rounded the cryo cylinder she had been crouching behind just seconds before, but she could feel the young man staring at her and hear in his sudden silence the double take he had performed. She kept her head down, hiding a flush of embarrassment-and a small amount of fear. What this unknown person might do if he found out that she'd been spying on him, she didn't know.
A faint patter of footsteps told her that he and the droid had pulled back out of sight. She fought to make out a furious exchange of whispers.
"PROXY, who is that?"
"Ah, yes. Your new pilot has finally arrived, master."
"But who is she?"
"Accessing Imperial records..."
There was a moment of silence during which she told herself not to be so curious. That only ever got her into trouble.
But then she heard her own voice speaking in the hangar and her temper got the better of her.
"Captain Juno Eclipse," said the holodroid in Juno's clipped tones. "Born on Corulag, where she became the youngest student ever accepted into the Imperial Academy. Decorated combat pilot with over one hundred combat missions and commanding officer during the Bombing of Callos. Handpicked by Lord Vader to lead his Black Eight Squadron, but later reassigned to a top-secret project..."
She stormed around the cryo cylinder and caught the strange sight of herself standing directly in front of her-an exact doppelganger supported by the man whom she now realized was Darth Vader's agent, the so-called Starkiller. Her face burned at the indignity and the invasion of her privacy.
"Is there a psychological profile in there, too?" she asked.
Young man and droid stared back at her. With a look of barely concealed embarrassment, Starkiller let go of the droid and stepped away. The droid, PROXY, wobbled on his feet, and then snapped to attention in a fair imitation of her-complete with neat blond hair, regulation uniform, tricolored insignia, and a smudge of grease just forming on her cheek as the droid updated his image files.
"Actually, yes," the machine told her, "but it's restricted." To Starkiller as an aside he added, "Master, I can tell you that she's going to be impossible to reprogram."
Juno suppressed an urge to take the welding tool and ram an other hole through the droid's perforated chest. Coming face-to-face with herself was a disconcerting development, one for which she had been completely unprepared.
The young man gestured. The droid dropped his simulation of her and went back to being just a droid.
"You know why you're here?" Starkiller asked her.
Remembering herself, she lowered the welder and took a deep breath.
"Lord Vader gave me my orders himself," she said. "I am to keep your ship running and fly you wherever your missions require."
Starkiller seemed neither pleased nor displeased. "PROXY," he instructed the droid, "get the Rogue Shadow ready to launch."
The damaged machine stumbled off to do his bidding, while Juno and his master followed at a more sedate pace.
"Did Lord Vader tell you that he killed our last pilot?"
Juno studied him as closely as he was obviously studying her. He was dressed in a worn black combat uniform that looked as though it had been mended many times. His arms and hands were a mess of scar tissue. "No. But I can only assume he or she gave Lord Vader good cause to do so." She paused, then added, "I will not."
"We'll see. I'm sick of training new pilots." His eyes slid past her to where she had been working on the Rogue Shadow. His brows crinkled on seeing the new panels she had welded into place. "What's this? What have you done to my ship?"
Suddenly self-conscious, Juno wiped the smudges from her cheek. "I have taken the liberty of upgrading the Rogue Shadow's sensor array. Now you will be able to spy on any suspect ships across an entire system." She waited for some sign of approval, but he only nodded. Her pride slightly stung, she said, "I assume that's part of your mission profile. You can only be one of Darth Vader's spies. Your ship has the most amazing long-range scanners and a cloaking device..."
"You don't need to know anything about my missions except where I'm going."
"Where are we going?"
"To Nar Shaddaa. Can you handle that?"
"Of course." She bit her lip on an angry retort and brushed past him to the ramp leading into the ship.
In the cockpit she found the droid fiddling ineptly at the controls. "Leave that alone," she snapped. "I'll do it."
"Yes, Captain Eclipse."
The droid backed away with a series of creaks and sparks from his damaged midriff. Only then did she remember his strange remark to his master-about ambushing and killing him-and wondered if she shouldn't perhaps have been more polite.
CHAPTER 3
The Rogue Shadow's sublight engines surged with smooth acceleration as its new pilot deftly manipulated the controls. The apprentice watched her closely as she worked, assessing her qualifications as well as her other qualities. Of the pilots he had worked with so far, none had been women. She was barely his age and very beautiful with it, but in the pilot's seat she was a consummate professional. Confident and precise, she moved as though she had been born in a cockpit.
Once he was certain that he and PROXY were in safe hands, he turned his attention to the details of his mission.
"PROXY, give me the target."
The droid who had been his sole continuous companion for most of his life was sitting in a jump seat at the rear of the cockpit, strapped carefully in place. Familiar distortions played across his metal skin and features as he activated the holoprojectors that made him unique. The appearance of a hardened human warrior took form in the droid's seat. Dressed in the familiar browns of the hated Jedi, he possessed high cheekbones and a strong, broken nose. His eyes were deeply recessed and revealed none of his thoughts.
"According to official Imperial records," PROXY said in a dee...
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