Fett began to murmur into his helmet mike … then ducked as a colored flash came crackling out of the darkness and blasted a head-sized crater from the tunnel wall. Instantly he began to return fire, pouring blaster bolts toward his unseen attacker, and the loading platform grew bright with crisscrossing lines of color. In the strobing light, Jaina glimpsed half a dozen Mandalorian bodies ahead, lying below the loading platform at the bottom of the transportation tube. Their beskar’gam appeared to be more or less intact—but so badly discolored and deformed that it looked like they’d taken laser cannon blasts square to their chest plates.
Fett yelled something she couldn’t make out over the wail of so many blaster rifles, then crouched and charged into the transportation tube, sticking his weapon arm up over the loading platform to return fire. A blaster bolt caught his T-21 in the cooling module, blowing the weapon apart and sending it flying in three different directions. A second bolt ricocheted off the inside of Fett’s vambrace, flinging his arm straight up above the edge of the platform, where a third bolt burned through his palm and blew out the back of his gauntlet, spinning him around and dropping him flat to the dead repulsor rail.
These were not her mother’s stormtroopers, Jaina realized. These guys could shoot. She ignited her lightsaber and charged after Fett, simultaneously batting blaster bolts back toward her attackers and using the Force to push Fett along the rail so he wouldn’t become a stationary target.
Then the hair rose on the back of her neck, and she had the sense that someone very dangerous was focusing on her. She thought for a second it might be her brother—but realized she would have been dead by the time she sensed him watching. She dived for the repulsor rail, catching Fett square in the back as he came up holding a BlasTech S330 he had taken from one of his dead mercenaries.
They slammed down flat, Fett cursing inside his helmet and trying to throw her off, Jaina using the Force to keep them pinned until whatever she had sensed …
… crashed against the back wall, lighting up the transportation tube like a nova burst to life. The blast seared the left side of her face and filled her nose with the sulfurous smell of melted stone, scorched cloth, and singed hair. Jaina glanced over and saw a half-meter ball of crackling, boiling white still burrowing into the tunnel wall, stone pouring from the hole in a bright liquid stream.
Fett finally squirmed out from beneath her and spun around on his knee, still cursing and oblivious to the thumb-sized hole that had been burned through his hand. If he noticed that he was now kneeling on the warped chest plate of a helmetless mercenary, or that the man’s face was as red and puffy as that of someone who had been steamed alive, he showed no sign.
“Not what I had in mind, Jedi.” He nearly had to shout to make himself heard above the scream and crackle of the battle. “When I said cover me, I meant with a blaster.”
“My mistake,” Jaina replied wryly.
She was about to add that it wouldn’t happen again when a dozen Mandalorians came running up from the other end of the loading platform. The leader, a tall broad-shouldered fellow armored in red and black, was crouching low and keeping a careful watch on a chrono he carried in his hand. Everyone else was returning Imperial fire, only half crouching behind the platform’s cover and relying on their beskar’gam to deflect enemy fire while they picked off stormtroopers.
The leader dropped to a knee beside Fett. “Good to see you, boss.” He displayed the chrono, which was counting down by seconds. “We’ve got nine seconds till they hit us again.”
“Good to see you, too, Moburi.” Fett’s helmet swung in Jaina’s direction, shooting her a glance she was fairly sure would have been smug had she been able to see beneath his viewplate, then looked back to Moburi. “Plasma cannon?”
“Just a gun,” Moburi corrected. “That’s why—”
“Where?” Jaina poked her head up, but she was so blinded by the flurry of blaster bolts that she could not pinpoint anyone’s location—much less the plasma gun’s. “Just one?”
“One’s enough,” Moburi said.
Jaina glanced at the chrono in his hand and saw that it was down to six seconds. She didn’t have time to explain—not if she was going to take out that gun before it fired again.
“Where?”
Moburi glanced at Fett, who looked at Jaina and shook his head. “No way. I’m not going to—”
“You’re not.” Jaina knew what Fett was going to say, that he wasn’t going to risk the tool of his vengeance against her brother—and she understood why. Assassins didn’t make it to Fett’s age by taking chances they could avoid. But Jaina also knew that she was going to have to take a lot of chances to bring Jacen down—that from the moment she began her hunt, she would be assuming far greater risks than facing down a few dozen crackshot stormtroopers. “Cover!”
Jaina reignited her lightsaber, then Force-sprang out of the tube and into an evasive somersault.
Behind her Fett yelled, “Fierfek!” then, “Go, go, go!”
By the time she came down again she was halfway across the loading platform, a dozen Mandalorians charging out of the darkness behind her. She landed in a near trance, her pulse racing with battle exhilaration, her lightsaber whirling by instinct, her mind focused on discovering the location of the plasma gunner. It was impossible to see anything in the darkness behind the strobing crescent of color that marked the stormtroopers’ skirmish line. But Jaina knew that was where her target would be, defended by the rest of his squad, tucked behind hard cover with nothing visible but his muzzle and sniper sight.
And he would be up high. The plasma ball had been at face level while she was in the bottom of the transportation tube, which meant the sniper had been shooting down at them.
Behind her, a Mando grunted in anguish as a lucky blaster bolt found a seam in his armor; a concussion grenade detonated off to her right and sent chunks of white armor spraying everywhere. Jaina felt her lightsaber catch a trio of powerful bolts, then saw the fiery dashes return to send a stormtrooper and his G-8 power blaster flying in opposite directions. She spun through the resulting gap in the enemy line, dancing left, then right to slice through a white-armored shoulder and send a boxy helmet and its contents tumbling away.
And that was when she sensed the plasma gunner’s focus returning. It wasn’t as strong this time, probably because it was centered on someone else, and she wouldn’t have noticed it at all if she hadn’t been searching for it. But she could feel the sniper preparing to fire again, somewhere ahead, above … and right.
Jaina smiled, more in satisfaction than bloodlust, and rushed into the darkness. Extending her Force awareness high along the wall and ceiling of the loading vault, she sensed a human presence. Two presences—sniper and spotter, hiding on an observation balcony high above the battle. She did not reach for a blaster or a glow rod or try to leap up to their hiding place. She just grabbed and pulled, using the Force to jerk them both forward.
The sniper and his partner almost certainly yelled or cried out as they flew from their firing post, but the sound was inaudible beneath the booming crackle of a plasma discharge. An orb of silver brilliance came arcing down from the balcony, followed by two dark-armored figures and their gun. Then the energy ball crashed into an overturned service cart, creating a cannon-sized detonation that illuminated the entire vault for a full two seconds.
Jaina glimpsed stormtroopers staggering, running, and somersaulting away from the explosion. Then the Mandalorians were on the skirmish line, felling enemies with blaster, boot, and blade. She sensed danger on her left and turned to see, in the flickering gleam of her lightsaber, a trooper stumbling away backward, shaking but still pointing an E-18 in her direction. She gestured him forward with her free hand, using the Force to pull him onto her lightsaber before he could open fire.
The blade burned a three-centimeter hole in his chest plate and sank through. A pained gurgle escaped his helmet comm, and the blaster rifle slipped from his grasp to land on Jaina’s b
oots. She deactivated her lightsaber then heard footsteps behind her and spun around, reactivating and striking in the same instant.
The attack landed but did not slice, the blade sliding along a beskar neck guard to burn a dark furrow into Fett’s green armor. Jaina gasped in surprise, but managed to stifle the apology—regret is a weakness—that rose automatically to her lips.
“Take that as a lesson,” she said instead. “Never sneak up on a Jedi.”
“Didn’t know you could sneak up on a Jedi,” Fett retorted. “Thanks for the tip.”
Jaina deactivated her lightsaber, more aware than Fett realized that they weren’t really joking. There were a lot of things he didn’t seem to know about Jedi, one of them being that Jedi weren’t just good eavesdroppers, they were the best. So when Admiral Daala—no fan of Jedi herself—had boarded the Bloodfin at Fondor and asked to meet with Fett, Jaina had made it her business to be on the deck below, where she could use the Force to listen in on what passed between the two Jedi-haters. It had been no surprise to hear them dreaming of the day when the galaxy was rid of Sith and Jedi alike—and that included Jaina. She had no illusions about that.
But Jaina was content to let Fett think she didn’t know just how serious he was, that she actually bought the fatherly-affection act he sometimes put on for her. She expanded her Force awareness to include the entire loading area, noting the diminished blasterfire and retreating battle sounds, and decided it would be safe to activate her glow rod.
“Looks like everything’s under control,” she said, starting toward the fallen sniper team and their plasma gun. “Sometimes the Jedi way is better.”
“Faster, anyway.” Fett knelt to check the sniper team and, discovering that the spotter was still breathing, put a blaster bolt through the fellow’s head. “Not necessarily better.”
Jaina recoiled from the cold-blooded killing of the wounded trooper, but recalled the Mandalorian whom she had heard grunting earlier and knew that Fett would be thinking of his own losses, not those of his enemy. She wanted to ask how many men he had lost during the charge but knew better than to betray her interest.
Fett stood and started forward, motioning for Jaina to follow. When they came to a huge archway opening into the depths of Client Hangar Two, he pointed into the darkness.
“There should still be a couple of full-spec Bessies in there, fueled and ready to go,” he said. “Consider one of ’em yours. I’ll put it on your account.”
Jaina stopped at his side. “So this is it, then.”
“I guess so,” Fett said. “I’ve seen you fly. You shouldn’t have any trouble slipping out of here.”
Jaina paused. “What about you? You know you can’t stop the invasion.”
She felt Fett smile inside his helmet. “You worried about me, Jedi?”
“Not really,” Jaina said. “But I do want to keep track of you.”
Fett snorted. “We both know you’re going to be too busy for that,” he said. “I’ll be fine. There’s a Tra’kad in there, too. We just have to prepare some things for our return.”
Jaina cocked her brow. “You’re coming back?”
“Of course,” Fett said. “I gave my word.”
“In that case, may the Force be with you,” Jaina said. “You’re going to need it.”
“Not as much as you.” Fett cocked his head, listening to a report, then said, “Time for me to get moving. Good luck, kid.”
For a moment, Jaina was silent. That was exactly the kind of thing her father, Han Solo, would have said.
Finally, she asked, “How much do you think I’ll need? Luck, I mean?”
Fett shrugged and pretended to look over his shoulder; then his wounded hand shot forward—just as Jaina had known it would. She blocked down, then slipped inside his guard, shouldering him backward and sweeping his front foot from beneath him.
Fett landed in a crash of armor and curses, but chuckled from inside his helmet. “Well, I’ve taught you everything you need to know.”
“But not everything you know,” Jaina surmised.
Fett looked up at her for a moment, then said, “You don’t have that long.” He extended a hand for Jaina to help him up. “And there’s no need.”
Jaina ignored the hand and stepped back, then asked, “No need for you?”
“Right.” Fett sighed and lowered his hand. “Either way, I get my revenge.”
“Either way?” Jaina narrowed her eyes, then realized what he was saying. She wasn’t surprised, but she was hurt—maybe only a little, but she was hurt. “If I don’t kill my brother—”
“Your brother kills you.” Fett hopped to his feet as lightly as any unarmored Jedi apprentice, then added, “Some things are worse than death. I know that better than anyone, except for maybe Sintas—and Han Solo. Send your father my sympathies.”
Jaina studied Fett for a moment, trying to remind herself that she had gone to him, that he had given her exactly what she asked for—and she still found herself getting angry.
Finally, she said, “Dad’s right about you. The Kaminoans did use rancor drool to fill your veins.”
Fett laughed. “Smart barve, your dad.” He spun on his heel and started down the access corridor at a jog. “No wonder he’s so hard to kill.”
THE OLD REPUBLIC
(5,000–33 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A NEW HOPE)
Long—long—ago in a galaxy far, far away … some twenty-five thousand years before Luke Skywalker destroyed the first Death Star at the Battle of Yavin in Star Wars: A New Hope … a large number of star systems and species in the center of the galaxy came together to form the Galactic Republic, governed by a Chancellor and a Senate from the capital city-world of Coruscant. As the Republic expanded via the hyperspace lanes, it absorbed new member worlds from newly discovered star systems; it also expanded its military to deal with the hostile civilizations, slavers, pirates, and gangster-species such as the slug-like Hutts that were encountered in the outward exploration. But the most vital defenders of the Republic were the Jedi Knights. Originally a reclusive order dedicated to studying the mysteries of the life energy known as the Force, the Jedi became the Republic’s guardians, charged by the Senate with keeping the peace—with wise words if possible; with lightsabers if not.
But the Jedi weren’t the only Force-users in the galaxy. An ancient civil war had pitted those Jedi who used the Force selflessly against those who allowed themselves to be ruled by their ambitions—which the Jedi warned led to the dark side of the Force. Defeated in that long-ago war, the dark siders fled beyond the galactic frontier, where they built a civilization of their own: the Sith Empire.
The first great conflict between the Republic and the Sith Empire occurred when two hyperspace explorers stumbled on the Sith worlds, giving the Sith Lord Naga Sadow and his dark side warriors a direct invasion route into the Republic’s central worlds. This war resulted in the first destruction of the Sith Empire—but it was hardly the last. For the next four thousand years, skirmishes between the Republic and Sith grew into wars, with the scales always tilting toward one or the other, and peace never lasting. The galaxy was a place of almost constant strife: Sith armies against Republic armies; Force-using Sith Lords against Jedi Masters and Jedi Knights; and the dreaded nomadic mercenaries called Mandalorians bringing muscle and firepower wherever they stood to gain.
Then, a thousand years before A New Hope and the Battle of Yavin, the Jedi defeated the Sith at the Battle of Ruusan, decimating the so-called Brotherhood of Darkness that was the heart of the Sith Empire—and most of its power.
One Sith Lord survived—Darth Bane—and his vision for the Sith differed from that of his predecessors. He instituted a new doctrine: No longer would the followers of the dark side build empires or amass great armies of Force-users. There would be only two Sith at a time: a Master and an apprentice. From that time on, the Sith remained in hiding, biding their time and plotting their revenge, while the rest of the galaxy enjoyed an unprecedented era
of peace, so long and strong that the Republic eventually dismantled its standing armies.
But while the Republic seemed strong, its institutions had begun to rot. Greedy corporations sought profits above all else and a corrupt Senate did nothing to stop them, until the corporations reduced many planets to raw materials for factories and entire species became subjects for exploitation. Individual Jedi continued to defend the Republic’s citizens and obey the will of the Force, but the Jedi Order to which they answered grew increasingly out of touch. And a new Sith mastermind, Darth Sidious, at last saw a way to restore Sith domination over the galaxy and its inhabitants, and quietly worked to set in motion the revenge of the Sith …
If you’re a reader new to the Old Republic era, here are three great starting points:
• The Old Republic: Deceived, by Paul S. Kemp: Kemp tells the tale of the Republic’s betrayal by the Sith Empire, and features Darth Malgus, an intriguing, complicated villain.
• Knight Errant, by John Jackson Miller: Alone in Sith territory, the headstrong Jedi Kerra Holt seeks to thwart the designs of an eccentric clan of fearsome, powerful, and bizarre Sith Lords.
• Darth Bane: Path of Destruction, by Drew Karpyshyn: A portrait of one of the most famous Sith Lords, from his horrifying childhood to an adulthood spent in the implacable pursuit of vengeance.
Read on for an excerpt from a Star Wars Legends novel set in the Old Republic era.
1
Dessel was lost in the suffering of his job, barely even aware of his surroundings. His arms ached from the endless pounding of the hydraulic jack. Small bits of rock skipped off the cavern wall as he bored through, ricocheting off his protective goggles and stinging his exposed face and hands. Clouds of atomized dust filled the air, obscuring his vision, and the screeching whine of the jack filled the cavern, drowning out all other sounds as it burrowed centimeter by agonizing centimeter into the thick vein of cortosis woven into the rock before him.