Star Wars: Red Harvest (28 page)

MAZLOT

“It means ‘air lock,’ ” Tulkh said, nodding. “Go ahead, do it.”

“Maybe—”

“Now.”
Tulkh lunged forward hard enough to make the chain snap tight, the bolts creaking in their studs. He thrust the spear at her, business-end-first this time, hurling it, and Zo dodged out of the way as it clattered off the far side of the chamber, then fell to the floor amid a pile of skulls.

Tulkh slumped backward, seemingly exhausted by the effort. When he raised his head at her again, light had shifted in his eyes, thin and slanting, a shade that she didn’t recognize. A burbling snarl escaped his lips.

Backing off, Zo went to pick up the broken spear, bent down and curled her fingers around it, and returned her attention to the air lock switch. There was precious little mercy shown here in the past day. If the Whiphid asked her for a quick death, she thought she’d seen enough to grant it. But—

The shriek came from behind her, a deafening blast.

Spinning around, she saw the thing in the doorway of the trophy
room lunge at her. A Sith student, one she’d never seen before, was flinging himself at her, its corpse-mouth gaping open in an oval rictus. The thing’s eyes were bright green and wild, like emeralds on fire, and long strings of orange-red hair dangled back over its shoulders, swinging and snapping wildly around its face as it tried to bite her. Its academy tunic was a stiff apron of gore.

Thwack!
Zo slammed the spear into its face, driving it backward, but not nearly far enough. The thing bolted at her a second time, and when it screamed Zo could hear Tulkh screaming behind her in exactly the same pitch and volume. The Sickness, she knew, was fully awake inside him; there wasn’t anything she could do about it now.

Use the Force
 … It was the orchid’s voice in her head, faint but distinct, guiding her.
Focus, Hestizo
.

She nodded to herself, her hands already moving up, reaching forward the way they sometimes did when she was deeply attuned to the great energy field surrounding her. The Sith-thing—she somehow knew that its name had once been Lussk, and that it had been promised this ultimate role by the Sickness that had overtaken him—rammed into her. Zo grabbed it by the front of its blood-stiffened uniform and thrust the body straight upward, into the air. She swung him up and over, face-first, into the meat hook dangling over her head, so that the underside of his jaw dropped straight down onto the hook’s rusty barb, impaling him up through the mouth.

The Sith-thing twitched and thrashed in the air, legs kicking furiously, arms jerking but unable to get itself free.

Now, Hestizo. Now!

She circled behind it, got her footing, and shoved. The hooks and their pulleys were on tracks running from one side of the hold to the other, and the Sith-thing went careening forward across the hold, still dangling by its jaw, and crashed directly into Tulkh. The Whiphid yanked one arm free, threw back his head, and screamed again.

Now—

Zo threw one arm up, found another cable dangling from above,
and wrapped it tight around her arm. With her free hand she reached backward, fingertips extended toward the plain rectangular switch plate.

MAZLOT
.

There was a sharp whooshing hiss, like a canister of compressed air being ripped open, and the entire back wall of the hold blew off, the sealed panel vanishing, just gone, sucked out in the void. The Whiphid and the Sith-thing went flying out with it in a frantic cyclone wash of skins, pelts, and bones spilling out into space. Zo held on. The cable bit into her forearm. Behind her a cauldron of liquefied fat sloshed over sideways, spraying along the floor, and her feet slipped, legs whipping forward toward the open air lock. She held on. Gripping tight, she pulled herself back until she touched the hatchway leading out of the
Mirocaw
’s hold and levered herself through it, then managed to hit the console outside, sealing it shut.

Her last glimpse of the hold was a bare metal chamber, its contents gutted in a matter of seconds by the vacuum of space. Every scrap of the Whiphid’s gruesome trophy collection was gone, along with the vegetative growth that had marked her brief stay here—all of it sucked clean into the relentless and insatiable void.

In the end, Zo wasn’t surprised.

The galaxy, she had learned, could be a very hungry place.

W
HEN SHE ARRIVED BACK ON
M
ARFA
, B
ENNIS WAS WAITING FOR HER ON
B
ETA
L
EVEL
Seven, standing behind a copse of Onderonian bamboo. “Hestizo, welcome back.” He smiled when he saw her approaching, stepped away from the pale pewter-colored stalks rising up from the growth lights overhead, and held out his hand.

Zo hugged him instead, probably too tightly, and released when she felt Bennis wince a little. “Sorry. It’s good to see you again.”

“You as well,” he said, patting his chest. “Remind me to show you my scar when the bandages come off. It’s quite impressive.”

“You’re all right now?”

“Soon will be. The Force is a strong healer.” His smile slipped, edging into darkness. “I heard about Rojo. We all did, of course. Hestizo, I’m … so very sorry.”

She nodded, and for a moment neither of them spoke. There were times when no amount of speech could convey the heart’s grief, and
silence was the most articulate response. After a time, she felt Bennis tentatively reaching for her hand.

“Come, I have something to show you.”

She followed him through the long greenhouse, past familiar plants and species, their stalks and branches leaning up over her, some whispering her name, along with the other Jedi who were at work here. Up ahead she saw the incubation chamber. Bennis opened the hatchway, and they stepped inside.

Hestizo?

She stopped and looked at the Murakami orchid rising up in front of her, its petals wide, practically quivering with expectation and excitement, and she smiled.

Hello there
.

Hestizo, I’ve heard much about you, let us talk, we shall—

“The second of its species,” Bennis said. “It arrived here just this morning. Suffice it to say, it’s been anticipating your return here with great enthusiasm.”

“I’m sure,” she said, reaching out to touch the flower’s petals.

You were with my seed-brother
, the orchid said, arching toward her.
Is that true?

Yes, I was
, she told it, and thought about the voice of the first orchid, the one that she still heard in her mind.
I still am, in a way. He saved my life
.

Really?

Bennis smiled again, the indulgent smile of a proud parent, and gave the orchid a small pat. “Easy,” he said. “There will be plenty of time for that once Hestizo has settled back in with us, I’m sure.”

“Actually …” Zo met his eyes. “I wanted to speak to you about that.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to go away for a while.”

Bennis waited.

“I’m considering returning to the Jedi Temple at Coruscant to continue
my studies. Not that I don’t love it here, of course, but I feel—there is more for me to learn.”

He paused for a moment, then nodded as if he’d expected no less. “I had a feeling you might say that.”

“When I was away, I saw things …” Zo drew in a breath and held it until she was fairly certain that her voice was steady again. “You have heard about what happened on Odacer-Faustin?”

“Some,” Bennis admitted, “yes.”

“I have nightmares about it now. I probably will for months. And I think …” She shook her head. “… what if it isn’t over? What if the Sickness that Darth Scabrous created … got out somehow?”

Bennis didn’t respond, just gazed back at her steadily, until Zo sighed and managed a thin smile. “I made a friend, an unlikely ally—a mechanic, actually. Named Pergus Frode. He’s a good pilot. He’ll take me to Coruscant. From there …” She shrugged. “Who knows?”

“I hope you’ll stay in touch.” And then, with absolute sincerity: “Hestizo?”

“Yes?”

“May the Force be with you.”

Zo smiled at that old refrain, words that she’d heard all her life, whose meaning she was still learning to understand on a personal level. “And with you.”

They stood together for a moment without speaking. Zo reached down and brushed her fingers gently over the orchid, then turned and walked out of the incubation chamber, through the research level where she’d spent so much of her adult life. She didn’t hurry. She knew that when she arrived at the hangar, Frode would be waiting for her with the ship, ready to take her back to Coruscant, and whatever might be waiting for her there. The mechanic would be good traveling company, she sensed—there was a low-key air about him that bespoke dozens of untold stories, events that had made up his life and taken him to the unlikely destination of Odacer-Faustin. She felt herself already beginning to trust him.

Making her way toward the turbolift that would take her up and away from all this, Zo thought about taking one last look back at the plants, the greenery that made her life here. This was the world she knew. Perhaps she should reconsider, give herself time to recover her bearings before moving on to something else.

The doors of the lift opened, and she stepped inside, finger hovering over the button just long enough to take in a last, fragrant breath of the vegetative life she was leaving behind.

That was enough.

The future was scary, but you couldn’t avoid it, anymore than you could outrun the past.

She pushed the button and didn’t look back.

When your debts run as deep as mine, there’s the tendency to say, “You know who you are,” but when you’re dealing with something of this magnitude, that doesn’t quite cover it.

For all their guidance, inspiration, and encouragement all along the way, I owe much appreciation to my agent, Phyllis Westberg at Harold Ober Associates, my editor, Shelly Shapiro, along with Erich Schoeneweiss, Keith Clayton, and the rest of my Del Rey/Random House family.

At Lucasfilm, major kudos to Sue Rostoni and Leland Chee for saving my bacon within the universe of continuity and the Holocron. And of course, to George Lucas, for knocking my socks off when I was seven years old and instilling a sense of awe from which I never recovered.

I want to extend a special thanks to the 501st Legion, whose generosity and commitment made the
Death Troopers
book tour unforgettable—especially the Southern California Garrison, the Golden
Gate Garrison, the Cloud City Garrison, the Midwest Garrison, the Bloodfin Garrison in Indianapolis, the Great Lakes Garrison, and Garrison Carida in my own backyard—you guys rock. And an extra loud shout-out to the Empire State Garrison, who came to Manhattan on a hot summer day to shoot Del Rey’s
Death Troopers
trailer and didn’t forget the blood … or the beer.

To everybody who came out to say hi on the tour, or plunked down your money to buy any of my books, thank you. Without you, this whole enterprise would start and end on my desktop.

As always, I have to reserve my greatest thanks for my family: my amazing kids, and my wife, Christina. Your love, encouragement, and profound sense of the ridiculous are constant reminders of the everyday magic, which is the most important kind of all. A guy couldn’t ask for more.

J
OE
S
CHREIBER
is the author of the
New York Times
bestselling novel
Star Wars: Death Troopers
, as well as
Chasing the Dead, Eat the Dark
, and
No Doors, No Windows
. He was born in Michigan but spent his formative years in Alaska, Wyoming, and Northern California. He lives in central Pennsylvania with his wife, two young children, and several original
Star Wars
action figures.
www.scaryparent.blogspot.com

By Joe Schreiber

Star Wars: Red Harvest
Star Wars: Death Troopers
No Doors, No Windows
Chasing the Dead
Eat the Dark

You saw the movies. You watched the cartoon series, or maybe played some of the video games. But did you know …

In
The Empire Strikes Back
, Princess Leia Organa said to Han Solo, “I love you.” Han said, “I know.” But did you know that they actually got married? And had three Jedi children: the twins, Jacen and Jaina, and a younger son, Anakin?

Luke Skywalker was trained as a Jedi by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. But did you know that, years later, he went on to revive the Jedi Order and its commitment to defending the galaxy from evil and injustice?

Obi-Wan said to Luke, “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.” Did you know that over those millennia, legendary Jedi and infamous Sith Lords were adding their names to the annals of Republic history?

Yoda explained that the dreaded Sith tend to come in twos: “Always two, there are. No more, no less. A Master, and an apprentice.” But did you know that the Sith didn’t always exist in pairs? That at one time in the ancient Republic there were as many Sith as Jedi, until a Sith Lord named Darth Bane was the lone survivor of a great Sith war and created the “Rule of Two”?

All this and much, much more is brought to life in the many novels and comics of the
Star Wars
expanded universe. You’ve seen the movies and watched the cartoon. Now venture out into the wider worlds of
Star Wars!

Turn the page or jump to the
timeline
of
Star Wars
novels to learn more