Star Wars: The Force Unleashed

by Sean Williams

  “Neither can you,” she said. “You are wasting your strength too quickly.”

  “The dark side is inexhaustible.”

  “Your strength is prodigious,” she admitted, “but that is your doing. Light, dark—” She paused to aim a blow at his head that he barely deflected. “They are just directions. Do not be fooled that you stand on anything other than your own two feet.”

  He slashed at her own feet as they spun by overhead and sent one of her ribbons twirling down into the sarlacc’s gaping mouth. “Spare me the philosophy lesson, Jedi,” he snarled. “I’m only here for your blood.”

  “And you may yet have it, or I yours.”

  On her last three words, she struck three blows that each partially found their mark. The first burned a sizzling line down the apprentice’s left shoulder. The second scored diagonally across his chest. The third would have skewered his right eye had he not held her back at the last minute with a desperate telekinetic block that stopped her lightsaber barely a millimeter from his skin. He could feel his eyelashes and eyebrows burning. The right side of his sight was entirely blue.

  She gasped and staggered backward. Her lightsaber and her gaze dropped. A full half meter of red blade emerged from her stomach, then the rest came free with a hiss.

  He backed away, shocked by how close he had come to death and how lucky he had been to defeat her. He had raised his lightsaber by reflex. She had, in the desperation of her final assault, practically thrown herself on the blade. Perhaps she had meant for the two of them to defeat each other at the same time.

  Her weakening fingers let go of her lightsaber, which deactivated with a click as it spun away into the sarlacc’s mouth. She didn’t look angry, just weary and in pain. Her red skin was suddenly very pale.

  He feinted toward her, but she didn’t react in any way, except to look at him.

  “You are Vader’s slave,” she breathed, “but your power is wasted with him. You could be so much more.”

  “You’ll never convince me to betray my Master.” He was shocked that she would try such a weak gambit again. Were these the depths to which the Jedi had sunk?

  “Poor boy.” She winced. “The Sith always betray one another—but I’m sure you’ll learn that—soon enough—”

  There was pity in her eyes as they rolled up into her head. She went limp and fell back into the mouth of the sarlacc. The apprentice reached out halfheartedly to catch her body, but was too slow. A second later, he wished that he had tried harder.

  A huge explosion of Force energy threw him bodily off his feet. The sarlacc went berserk. Its tentacles lashed out at him and its surface quaked violently, trying to toss him into its waiting maw. He dodged the tentacles’ frenzied lunges as best he could and dived for safety onto the town street.

  Out of the sarlacc’s reach, he lay facedown for a moment on the heaving ground. He was dusty, bleeding, and sore all over, but he was alive. Slowly, gingerly, testing every limb for grazes and cuts that might become infected in Felucia’s febrile air, he rolled over onto his back.

  And found himself in the center of a ring of Felucians. There must have been fifty of them—warriors, shamans, and rancor riders standing alongside parents, children, and mushroom farmers. Their faces were hidden by their headdresses; he couldn’t read their intent. But the Force swirled around them in thick, turbulent currents. Shaak Ti’s death affected them deeply, so profoundly entangled had she become in the energy flows of the world.

  Well, good, he thought. She was responsible for the planet’s imbalance. With her gone, maybe the dark side could reassert itself and the natural rhythms of life resume.

  One of the shamans grunted something in the Felucians’ guttural tongue, and the rest answered. The apprentice had no idea what they were saying. Were they threatening him or thanking him? He kept his thumb poised on the activation stud of his lightsaber, just in case.

  Then, as one, they turned and walked away. Some went back into the jungle. Others went home. Within seconds, the street was as empty as it had been before, and he was alone.

  Standing, he loped down the street, favoring his right leg only slightly. It didn’t matter what the Felucians thought. His mission was complete. It was time to go home.

  CHAPTER 9

  STARKILLER SEEMED CAUTIOUSLY ECSTATIC ON his return to the Rogue Shadow, even though he looked as though he had been mauled by a rancor. His combat uniform was rent in a dozen new places, and blood leaked from as many small wounds. But his eyes were alive with a light she had never seen before. After Rahm Kota, he had been introspective and closed. Kazdan Paratus had left him moody. Now, he was … not exactly triumphant, but on the brink of triumph. He was about to do something important—and she could guess what it was.

  While he had been gone and PROXY had been outside on the pretext of checking her work on the faulty shield, she had found a way to slice into the ship’s small meditation chamber. When they were safely under way and he retreated there with his droid, she put her comm headset over her ears and carefully spied on him.

  Starkiller knelt on the floor with his head bowed and his hands folded in front of him. PROXY stood over him, his holographic generators flickering in the gloom. They flared to life as a HoloNet transmission reached the ship. Eerily, the droid grew taller and more substantial until he had assumed the caped form of Darth Vader.

  “Report,” came the hollow tones of the Emperor’s most trusted servant.

  “My mission is complete, Master.”

  The domed head nodded once. “Then you are ready to stand with me against the Emperor. Return to the Executor at once. We will at last control the galaxy.”

  “Yes, my Master.”

  Vader’s ominous form flickered and shrank, becoming PROXY once more. The droid seemed uneasy and out of sorts again, but at the same time jerky with pride.

  “Congratulations, master. It seems that you are about to achieve your primary programming.”

  “Yes.” Starkiller rose and put a hand on each of his droid’s shoulders, steadying him. “Finally.”

  PROXY’s photoreceptors glowed. “Well, don’t worry, master. I’ll still keep trying to kill you.”

  Starkiller smiled fondly. “I know, PROXY. I know.”

  The two of them turned to come back to the cockpit, and Juno hastily killed the bug. By the time they were standing behind her, she was leaning over the controls, feigning an adjustment to the hyperdrive.

  “Everything okay?” Starkiller asked her.

  She felt his gaze boring into her from where he stood right behind her. Could he tell what she was up to just by looking at her? Could he read her mind like a book?

  “I’m just wondering,” she said, “where we go from here. Shaak Ti was unique. Your job might seem routine from here on out.”

  “Killing Jedi is never routine,” he said. “But I doubt I’ll be doing this kind of thing much longer.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “And what about me? Will I return to standard bombing runs when you’re finished with me?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to give you the highest possible recommendation.”

  Well, thanks, she thought. “We form a strong team. It’s unfortunate we can’t keep on as we are.” The worry in her voice was real. It’s a shame you’re planning to defy the Emperor—forcing me to decide where my loyalties lie.

  He put a hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t tell if he meant to reassure her or simply silence her.

  The latter she could manage easily enough, although her jaw ached from keeping her concerns to herself.

  When he returned to the meditation suite to clean himself up, leaving PROXY to help her with the ship, it wasn’t relief she felt, but emptiness.

  THAT FEELING REMAINED WHEN THE Rogue Shadow emerged from hyperspace in Scarl system, where the Executor lurked in its state of partial completion. She had decided nothing during the long journey. Should she remain loyal to her immediate superiors or try to warn the Emperor o
f their treachery? The question made her guts roil, but the answer eluded her. She needed more information, either way.

  Starkiller and his droid disembarked, obviously heading to debrief their Dark Lord. Juno’s anxiety levels rose as soon as he was out of her sight. When he was with her, at least she could keep an eye on him. Who knew what could go down while he was gone—perhaps dragging her down with him?

  Remembering the strange feed she had managed to slice into while looking for her psychological profile, she shut the ship’s external hatches and feigned a hull integrity check. Patching the ship’s systems into the hangar’s gave her access to everything in the flagship’s data banks. Immediately she began searching.

  It wasn’t easy. There was no use trying to follow the same route she had used the other night, since that appeared to have naturally cauterized itself. There had to be numerous ways into Vader’s secret chamber; the trick lay in finding one that was open at the moment, a signal she could piggyback on as far as the security feed. And then, hopefully, she would be able to hear more of the pair’s plans.

  She found the route via telemetry. Vader appeared to be closely monitoring the area around the fat red sun, although for a moment she couldn’t tell why.

  Then a series of hyperspace signatures rippled through the vacuum, and she began to understand. Three Star Destroyers and a dozen smaller vessels were arriving from elsewhere, flashing into realspace with disconcerting swiftness.

  A cold feeling spread across her chest, enveloping her heart.

  With shaking fingers, she canceled the view and sliced as fast as she could into the security system.

  THE APPRENTICE STOOD IN FRONT of the massive bulkhead leading to his Master’s chamber for a long moment, gathering his self-control and centering himself within the Force. Ambition stirred in him: he pictured himself at his Master’s side, the two of them striking the Emperor down together, as he had imagined many times down the years. He saw himself in regal attire as Lord Vader became Emperor Vader and assumed the mantle of Coruscant and all the other jewel-like worlds in the galactic crown. What sights awaited them in the Imperial court! What new challenges and aspirations!

  But his training demanded a careful balance between the lust for power and self-denial. Control was paramount, as in all things. He wanted to present the best face possible to his Dark Lord, lest once again the attainment of his dreams be denied.

  “Is anything the matter, master?” asked PROXY from the droid’s familiar position at his shoulder.

  “Nothing at all,” he said.

  Straightening his shoulders, he waved a hand. The massive door slid open. Suppressing a smile, the apprentice strode confidently into Darth Vader’s inner sanctum.

  His boots rang out on the metal floor, echoing through the familiar chamber. The red sun glared through the broad viewport, but there was something new in that vista: a fleet of Star Destroyers and support ships clustering around his Master’s flagship like carrion.

  Darth Vader didn’t turn. “The Emperor’s fleet has arrived,” was all he said.

  The apprentice felt a quickening in his throat. Moving in front of his Master to get a look out the viewport, he pressed his palm against the thick transparisteel and smiled. Destiny.

  “You lured him here.” He could hear the excitement in his voice. “When do we strike?”

  “I did not summon him.” There was no warning in his Master’s deep voice, no hint at all of what was to come. With an unexpected snap-hiss, Darth Vader’s lightsaber was active, reflecting in the viewport beside the baleful orb of the sun. “His spies followed you here.”

  The apprentice opened his mouth to protest, but had barely begun to turn when his Master’s potent blade stabbed through his back. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of the lightsaber protruding from his stomach. The pain was unbearable, much worse than he had ever imagined it would be.

  The lightsaber’s fiery blade disappeared as Darth Vader deactivated the weapon.

  With a choked scream, the apprentice fell to his knees. Darkness threatened to spread across his vision, but he resisted it with all his strength. Despair likewise. This had to be a terrible mistake. It couldn’t be happening.

  His Master loomed over him, studying him impassively from behind his black mask. Without turning, he gestured at PROXY.

  “Begin the transmission.”

  “Yes, Lord Vader.”

  PROXY, standing slightly behind their dark Master, transformed by sinister stages into the Emperor, hooded and enshrouded in shadow. The two Sith Lords looked down at the apprentice, who gasped helplessly at their feet.

  “What is thy bidding, Master?” Darth Vader asked.

  “You have forgotten your place, Lord Vader. By taking this boy as your apprentice, you have betrayed me.” The Emperor’s tone was at the same time harsh and hypnotic. One claw-like hand reached out from the sleeve of his voluminous cloak. “Now you will kill him, or I will destroy you both.”

  The apprentice watched his Master, pain twisting his features into a rictus. There was nothing he could do to stop this terrible reversal. He could not lift a hand against his Master, who had raised him and taught him all his life. But he would not die silent.

  “Don’t, Master!” he gasped, struggling to stand but failing. The darkness encroached further. “Together we can defeat him!”

  “Do it now, Lord Vader!” insisted the Emperor. “Strike him down and prove your loyalty to me!”

  Darth Vader looked from the Emperor to the apprentice as though weighing up two very heavy alternatives. Then he lashed out with the Force, unleashing a mighty telekinetic surge that sent the apprentice crashing into one of the transparisteel viewports behind him. With a piercing sound, it cracked.

  “Yes, Vader!” the Emperor crowed. “Kill him! Kill him!”

  The apprentice was gripped tightly in his Master’s will and pulled away from the viewport. For a faint instant, he thought his Master had changed his mind and decided to defy the Emperor after all. But then he was hurled back at the transparisteel with all the force of a small meteor. The viewport shattered outward in a huge explosion, sucking him into the cold vacuum of space.

  His final cry went unheard. Darkness and despair closed in again, and he no longer tried to fight them. There was no point. It was over.

  JUNO WATCHED IN HORROR FROM the cockpit of the Rogue Shadow, her mouth hanging open and her fingers limp on the controls of the ship. Perhaps she should have been readying the ship for flight, or at least cutting the signal of her illicit data feed. Later she would wish she had, but at that moment all she could do was stare.

  Klaxons began to sound in the Dark Lord’s inner sanctum, sounding a strident vent alarm. Lights strobed painfully across the metal walls. Vader grabbed hold of the nearest stanchion to avoid being sucked out into space himself, but the maelstrom was short-lived. Within seconds—though it seemed like a small eternity—a large metal grate had slid down and sealed the shattered viewport shut.

  Air poured back into the room. The rasp of Vader’s respirator eased.

  With one black-gloved hand at his throat, he turned back to the Emperor’s hologram and straightened to his full height.

  “It is done,” he said in a cold, leaden tone.

  “You are the apprentice, Lord Vader,” the Emperor snarled. “You are my servant, my enforcer. Never forget your place again.”

  Vader’s domed head bowed. “Yes, my Master.”

  The Emperor’s hologram flickered and dissolved. PROXY returned to normal, looking stunned and shaken. Vader ignored the droid and walked to one of the intact viewports. He stood looking out into space, where the apprentice’s limp body tumbled lifelessly through vacuum, surrounded by a cloud of fragmented transparisteel.

  Juno’s hand had risen to her mouth without her knowing it. Starkiller had done nothing but obey orders, just as she had on Callos. He had been betrayed, literally stabbed in the back by the one he had trusted most. It wasn’t fair.

&nbs
p; The sound of a door clanging open in the hangar was followed by the sound of booted feet running toward the ship. Too late she closed the feed and focused on her own problems. A squad of troopers from the Emperor’s ships had broken the seal on the Rogue Shadow’s secret nest. They could only be coming for her.

  Her heart hammered in her chest. Standing, she smoothed down her black uniform and made sure her cap was straight. When she was sure her pistol was well out of reach, she opened the ramp. Taking a deep, calming breath, she went out to meet her fate.

  Part 2

  EMPIRICAL

  CHAPTER 10

  DEATH WASN’T AT ALL AS he expected. He was aware of it, for a start, even if that awareness was of a fragmentary, nebulous sort. His consciousness came and went in waves, drifting in and out on unfathomable tides. He sank and surfaced at the whim of forces he couldn’t comprehend. All he could do was ride with them and hope that death wouldn’t be like this forever.

  There was a surprising amount of pain, considering that his body no longer existed, lurking at the edge of his consciousness like a reminder of something important he had forgotten. Was this some kind of punishment for the actions he had performed during his life? Were the Jedi he had slain getting their revenge from a more privileged position in the afterlife?

  That was a ridiculous thought, he told himself. Irrespective of whether there was an afterlife or not, privilege could not possibly exist, for anyone. The light and the dark sides of the Force were identical in stature, if not in effect. He could no more be tormented by the Jedi than he could torment them.

  There were voices, too, and visions. They were harder to rationalize. Some were familiar, such as PROXY soothing him as he would a child—as he had for many years, until Darth Vader’s apprentice had grown too old for such coddling. There was Darth Vader himself, urging him to embrace his fear, not fight it, and thereby become as strong as a mountain.

  Some of the visions were memories, such as of the time he had asked PROXY to chain him immobile in the dark and refused food or water until he had assembled a lightsaber lying in pieces before him, using only the Force. He had failed at the attempt, but in his extremity he had found the strength to abandon his weakened body and embrace the dark side. He returned to that place many times after his death at Darth Vader’s hand.