Star Wars: The Rise of the Empire is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Lucasfilm Ltd. ® & TM where indicated.
Excerpt from Star Wars: Battlefront: Twilight Company by Alexander Freed copyright © 2015 by Lucasfilm Ltd. ® & TM where indicated. All rights reserved.
Excerpt from Star Wars: Aftermath by Chuck Wendig copyright © 2015 by Lucasfilm Ltd. ® & TM where indicated. All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
DEL REY and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Star Wars: A New Dawn and Star Wars: Tarkin both originally published separately in hardcover in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, in 2014.
This book contains the following short stories originally created for this edition. Copyright © 2015 by Lucasfilm Ltd. ® & TM where indicated:
“Mercy Mission”
“Bottleneck”
“The Levers of Power”
This book contains excerpts from Star Wars: Battlefront: Twilight Company by Alexander Freed and Star Wars: Aftermath by Chuck Wendig. These excerpts have been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming editions.
ISBN 9781101965030
eBook ISBN 9781101965061
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Cover design: Scott Biel
Cover art: (top) Doug Wheatley; (bottom) Michael Kutsche
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chronology
Epigraph
Mercy Mission
Star Wars: Tarkin
Prologue
Chapter 1: The Measure of a Man
Chapter 2: Blows Against the Empire
Chapter 3: Cold Case
Chapter 4: A Boy’s Life
Chapter 5: Predacity
Chapter 6: Imperial Center
Chapter 7: Masters of War
Chapter 8: The Emperor’s New Spies
Chapter 9: As Above, So Below
Chapter 10: A Better Womp Rat Trap
Chapter 11: Fair Game
Chapter 12: Burying the Lead
Chapter 13: Soft Targets
Chapter 14: A Case of Do or Die
Chapter 15: Negative Capability
Chapter 16: Hazard Mitigation
Chapter 17: Zero Defects
Chapter 18: Hung Upside Down
Chapter 19: Footprints
Chapter 20: The Carrion Spike
Chapter 21: Dissolution
Chapter 22: Red, in Tooth and Claw
Bottleneck
Star Wars: A New Dawn
Foreword
Prologue
Phase One: Ignition
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Phase Two: Reaction
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Phase Three: Detonation
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Final Phase: Damage Assessment
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
The Levers of Power
About the Authors
Excerpt from Battlefront: Twilight Company
Excerpt from Aftermath
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….
For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times…before the Empire.
—Obi-Wan Kenobi
* * *
MERCY MISSION
* * *
Melissa Scott
“THIS JOB IS PREPOSTEROUS, and you know it!”
Hera Syndulla winced as the voices from the commons echoed through the freighter’s central corridor. Ever since they’d left Rishi with the load of gattis-root extract intended for Twi’lek civilians on Ryloth, Trae Baratha had been protesting the mission.
“Your Karthakk Group thought it was sensible enough to take our credits. And if you want the final payment for your people, Clinician, you have to deliver the medicine.” Goll, a former leader of the Free Ryloth Movement, sounded as though he’d reached the end of his patience.
For a second, Hera considered retreating, but Eclipse was a small freighter, and there were few places where you weren’t practically on top of everyone else.
“I’ll deliver the medicine if it can be done safely,” Baratha retorted. “Only then.”
“Your people won’t be happy if they don’t get paid,” Goll said.
Hera heard footsteps behind her and saw the Eclipse’s Nikto gunner, Ul’ligan, coming down the corridor. He cocked his multihorned head at her, but before she could say anything, Baratha’s voice rang out again.
“They’ll like it even less if we get caught and the Imperials seize the cargo.”
Hera squared her shoulders and stepped through the hatch into the commons.
“The Karthakk Group agreed to take the job,” Goll said, his voice hardening. He was sitting on the padded seat that ran along the forward bulkhead, his lekku, the heavy head tails that curled down to his shoulders, stiff with irritation. Hera hoped the human clinician couldn’t read the level of annoyance that would be clear to any Twi’lek. “You were outvoted.”
That was inarguable, but Baratha waved a hand in dismissal anyway. Eclipse’s engineer, a slim, lavender-skinned Sephi named Eira Tay, sat at the little table, hunched low over her plate, trying to pretend the others weren’t there. Ul’ligan made a sympathetic noise and patted her on the shoulder as he made his way to the caf dispenser.
“They didn’t know whom you’d hired,” Baratha snapped. She was tall, and very thin, her graying hair cut shor
t around her sharp face. When they had first met, Hera thought the hair looked like the downy feathers of a very young chick, but now Baratha reminded her of a carrion bird. “This thing—no offense, Engineer, but this ship isn’t going to stand up to anything bigger than a two-shot blaster.”
Tay’s pointed ears swiveled and flattened. “Mostly we try not to get caught…or shot.”
“We’ve been doing this a long time,” Ul’ligan said, his voice low and grating. He spoke so rarely that Hera was still unsure if he was annoyed or if that was his natural tone.
Tay nodded vigorously. “And look! We’re still here.”
“They’re the best available,” Goll said. If he was aware of the ambiguity of the statement, he gave no sign of it. “Plus, your people knew how serious our situation was when they agreed to help. The price for the gattis reflected it.”
“Bybbec fever is unpleasant,” Baratha said, “but only rarely fatal.”
“It’s fatal to Twi’leks.” Hera couldn’t stop herself. The cargo was intended for a settlement of Twi’lek elders, who had come together to preserve their culture in the face of the Imperial conquest. But when Goll asked her to join the mission, he had told her to keep the extract’s real destination a secret. He didn’t trust any of the others well enough. “And the symptoms are more severe—fever, bone ache, weakness.”
“True,” Goll said. “And that’s not the only problem. The Empire is rationing treatment—oh, they’re offering the gattis extract for free, but to receive it, you have to register with the distributing clinic. Then they use that registration to sniff out false identities. Even worse, they’re forcing many of the jungle settlements to reveal themselves to the Empire in exchange for treatment. They’re demanding that entire communities relocate, all under the guise of making it easier to get the drugs.”
“What we’re carrying is a drop in the bucket,” Baratha said.
“It’ll help thousands of people avoid Imperial control,” Hera said.
Baratha ignored her. “Come on,” she said to Goll, “you have to see the problems here.”
“We’re not going up against Star Destroyers,” Goll said. “The Imperials on Ryloth have V-wing fighters, and we can handle that. If we even have to.”
“We could handle it, but I like to think our plan is a little smarter than that.”
Hera turned to see Eclipse’s captain, Krysiant Rheden, standing in the hatchway. She was perhaps a few years younger than Baratha and a head shorter, broad-shouldered and unremarkable except for the blaster at her hip. Hera wondered if she carried it on all her jobs.
“Hera—” Rheden stopped, grimacing, and Baratha flung up her hands.
“So much for security!”
Baratha had urged them to use titles instead of names. Hera thought the idea was silly.
“Copilot,” Rheden corrected herself, with angry precision. “And Engineer,” she said, turning to Tay. “We’re about to exit hyperspace. I want you both in the cockpit.”
Hera followed the others forward and settled herself into the copilot’s seat. Outside the reinforced canopy, hyperspace flared electric blue; between the two pilots’ stations, the navigation computer was chattering to itself, lights flashing as it signaled the approaching transition. She belted herself in and gave Rheden a cautious look.
“I don’t mind if you call me Hera. I trust you.”
“You probably shouldn’t. Baratha may be right,” Rheden said.
“Except we already know each other’s names,” Tay said.
Rheden grunted in agreement, and Baratha’s voice crackled from the intercom.
“Captain. Are you planning to crew the turrets?”
Rheden’s mouth tightened. “I’m keeping weapons at standby unless we get into trouble.”
“We’ll take positions just in case.” Goll sounded calm enough, but Hera guessed his lekku were stiff with annoyance.
“Suit yourself,” Rheden said. “Ul’ligan, take the stern pod.”
“Will do,” Ul’ligan answered, and Rheden shook her head, covering the intercom pickup with one hand.
“What a pain in the neck that woman is.”
Before Hera could decide how to answer, the nav computer beeped insistently.
“Stand by, we’re coming up on the transition.” Rheden glanced at the nav computer’s screen. “Three, two, one—cut in sublight, Tay.”
The sound of the ship’s engine shifted subtly, the vivid blue of hyperspace fading to lines that suddenly blurred and shortened and became stars. Hera’s lekku tightened: She’d been on missions before, some easy, others complicated. But it seemed as though she’d never get used to making the first step. There was a ping, and a series of blue lights flared at the top of Hera’s board. “I’m picking up a small Imperial cruiser, but it’s just scanning us.”
Tay looked up sharply. “Since when does the Empire scan ships on approach? That’s unusual.”
“It’s fine. As long as that’s all they’re doing.” Rheden kept one hand on the control yoke as the ship fed false data to the Imperials.
The communications system pinged. “FT-2991 Tirion, you are cleared to enter Ryloth system. Follow Beacon Tivik, channel 81, to planetary orbit and hold there for further instructions.”
Rheden flicked a switch. “Roger that. Beacon Tivik to orbit, and hold for instructions.” She flipped the switch off again and gave Hera a crooked smile. “Here we go.”
The flight into the Ryloth system was uneventful. After the first hour, Rheden announced that the guns didn’t need to be crewed any longer. Ul’ligan and Goll returned to the commons, but Baratha said that she would stay in the starboard turret. “Suit yourself,” Rheden said, and looked at Hera. “Take a break, kid. And when you come back, bring us some caf?”
Hera nodded, glad of the chance to stretch her legs, and slipped out of the cockpit. As she reached the commons, the hatch slid open, revealing Ul’ligan, who scowled over his shoulder. “I really don’t care what happens as long as our ship comes through intact.”
Hera stepped back as he stomped away, then she entered, letting the hatch slide closed behind her. “Is everything all right?”
Goll sighed. “Fine. It’s all fine.”
From his tone, there was no point in pursuing the question. Hera poured herself a cup of caf and settled across from him at the narrow table. “Captain Rheden is annoyed with Baratha.”
“So are we all.” Goll showed sharply filed teeth. “But the Karthakk Group had the gattis extract, and so we’re stuck with her. We keep everyone moving along as happily as possible. Even if I’d like to—” He stopped, shaking his head. “We keep moving. It’s what leaders do.”
Hera finished her caf and made up cups for Rheden and Tay, waiting for Goll to elaborate, but he didn’t. She was glad she wasn’t in charge. She wasn’t sure she could have kept from snapping at Baratha. “Feels strange to be going back to Ryloth, doesn’t it?”
“Feels strange doing it without your father. Cham would have…” Goll shook his head again, and Hera knew there was no point in asking questions. Goll wouldn’t even tell her where he was. He’d be angry enough if he knew I let you volunteer for this, Goll had said the last time she asked. She nodded instead and turned to leave.
She returned to the cockpit with the mugs of caf and took her turn at the controls, while first Rheden, then Tay took breaks of their own. By then, Ryloth was swelling in the viewscreens, and Hera adjusted the sensors to magnify the image. She hadn’t seen Ryloth in so long that the rust-brown disk was as much a symbol as a remembered home. She sighed, and the engineer reached over to pat her shoulder.
“Must be weird, huh?”
“Better not be,” Rheden said. “She’s got to guide us in once we’re off the traffic-control net.”
Hera’s lekku twitched in embarrassment. “I can handle it.”
Rheden ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry.”
To Hera’s relief, the control panel beeped at her. “Tivik is sig
naling.” She reached for the comm system, while Rheden slowed the ship. A moment later, a bored voice sounded over the speakers.
“Tirion. You are cleared to enter atmosphere. Stand by for your descent heading and auto-control frequency.”
“Standing by,” Hera answered. The system chattered and flashed a series of numbers that flickered to green. “Received and confirmed.”
“Roger, Tirion. And a friendly reminder. Any deviation from the reentry corridor or from auto-control will result in the destruction of your ship.”
“Understood, Tivik,” Hera said. “Commencing reentry. Tirion out.”
“Charming welcome,” Rheden said.
“You’re sure your people can cut the auto-control system,” Tay said.
“That’s the plan,” Hera answered. She recited the procedure she had memorized. “Once we’re at the designated altitude, we slave the ship to the traffic network. It’s supposed to take us all the way into the port at Lessu. After we pass Marker 210, our contact will cut the network broadcast for twenty-five seconds. We drop beneath the net and proceed to the rendezvous.”
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