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Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith -- Paragon
Lost Tribe of the Sith#3
PARAGON
Lost Tribe of the Sith#3
PARAGON
JOHN JACKSON MILLER
D
L
BALLANTINE BOOKS NEW YORK
Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith #3: Paragon
is a work of fiction.
Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imag-
ination or are used fictitiously.
2010 Del Rey eBook Edition
Copyright © 2010 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or ™ where indicated. All
Rights Reserved. Used Under Authorization.
Excerpt from
Star Wars®: Fate of the Jedi: Backlash
copyright ©
2010 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or ™ where indicated. All Rights
Reserved. Used Under Authorization.
Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random
House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New
York.
D
EL
R
EY
is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a
trademark of Random House, Inc.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book
Star
Wars®: Fate of the Jedi: Backlash
by Aaron Allston. This excerpt has
been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of
the forthcoming edition.
ISBN 978-0-345-51940-5
Printed in the United States of America
www.starwars.com
www.delreybooks.com
Chapter One
4985
BBY
The water was as warm as it was every day, streaming
from the marble slot high on the wall down onto Seelah’s
body. There had been no refresher, no modern conve-
niences for the Sith stranded on Kesh for fifteen standard
years. But they had learned to live with what they had.
The glistening droplets of meltwater clinging to her
brown skin had come from a glacier half a continent
away. Keshiri uvak-fliers, their beasts laden with mas-
sive kegs, had ferried the water from that faraway place
to the Sith’s mountain retreat. Rooftop attendants heat-
ed the water to her exact specifications, channeling it
through a system thoroughly cleansed daily for mildew
and other pollutants.
Below, Seelah meticulously raked at her wrist with
pumice brought from the foot of the Sessal Spire, kilome-
ters away. Keshiri artists had crafted the stones into pleas-
ing shapes for her. The natives were more interested in
appearance than function—but, in this, they had an ally.
Seelah looked with her usual disdain at the stall, con-
structed for her personal use by her Sith brethren imme-
diately after she’d moved into Commander Korsin’s
chambers. The place was more a temple than a home.
Plik z chomika:
Ranentil
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