The Force Unleashed (3 page)

sitting in a jump seat at the rear of the cockpit, strapped carefully in place.

Familiar distortions played across his metal skin and features as he activated the

holoprojectors that made him unique. The appearance of a hardened human warrior took

form in the droid's seat. Dressed in the familiar browns of the hated Jedi, he

possessed high cheekbones and a strong, broken nose. His eyes were deeply recessed

and revealed none of his thoughts.

"According to official Imperial records," PROXY said in a deep, commanding voice

that was nothing like his own, "Jedi Master Rahm Kota was a respected general in the

Clone Wars."

"The Clone Wars?" Juno half turned at the controls as she prepared the ship for its

jump through hyperspace. Her expression was as grave as that of the man sitting

where PROXY had been. "You're hunting Jedi."

The apprentice hadn't realized she was paying attention. "I bring Darth Vader's

enemies to justice," he told her. "And now so do you." Before she could initiate a

full-on discussion about it, the apprentice said, "Go on, PROXY."

"Of course. Master Kota was a military genius, but did not believe that the clone

soldiers were fit for battle. Instead he relied on a small squad of his own

personally trained troops. It's the only thing that kept him from being executed

when the Emperor discovered the Jedi's plot against the Republic."

Juno nodded. "There were no clones in his squad to bring him to justice."

"Exactly, Captain Eclipse. After Order 66, he vanished. Imperial records actually

claim he's dead."

The hologram of Kota faded, and PROXY returned to normal.

Juno still appeared more interested in the mission than plotting the hyperspace

jump. "So why come out of hiding and attack the Empire now?"

The apprentice had been considering that very question himself. "Kota wants to be

found."

"Then we are walking into a trap." She looked from the apprentice to PROXY and back

again. "How many pilots have you lost before me?"

"Seven."

"Oh, excellent." She flipped a switch on the Rogue Shadow's complicated console.

"Coordinates for Nar Shaddaa are locked. Prepare for lightspeed."

The apprentice braced himself as the stars ahead turned into streaks and the

familiar unreal tunnel opened up around the ship. With a well-tuned whine, the Rogue

Shadow and its passengers rocketed into hyperspace.

* * *

Nar Shaddaa, aka The Smuggler's Moon, the Vertical City, or even Little Coruscant:

the apprentice had never been there before, but he had learned as much as he could

from history and other educational holos. Its criminal classes and extensive

underground networks were famous across the galaxy, with lowlifes by the tens of

thousands flocking there in search of ill-gotten fortunes. Although dwarfed by

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noisome Nal Hutta, the large planet it orbited, it outshone every other world in the

Y'Toub system in every conceivable spectrum. Dozens of different species called it

home.

The apprentice couldn't hide a contemptuous sneer as the Rogue Shadow approached.

Notorious for changing allegiances, the criminal capital was currently courting

Imperial favor by inviting-or at least tolerating-the presence of a new TIE fighter

manufacturing facility in its upper atmosphere. He could imagine the reasoning

behind it: more money and resources flowing into the system; a new source of

"legitimate" jobs for those few who required them; an influx of potentially corrupt

officials to bribe. Sad for the locals, then, that the facility was staffed entirely

by humans, with security maintained by a full legion of Imperial storm-troopers.

The sneer became a frown as the apprentice remembered Lord Vader's words: Leave no

witnesses. He was more uncertain about that than he was about facing his first

fugitive Jedi. Although his Master spoke of confronting the Emperor and taking over

in his stead, the apprentice felt no disloyalty to the many troopers and officers

working steadfastly in Imperial service. If they broke no laws or hatched no plots

against his Master, he had no gripe with them. But now, for the first time, he would

have to act against those whose only error would be to cross his path. Was this a

test, he wondered, to see how far he would go in pursuit of his destiny? If so, he

swore not to disappoint his Master. He would obey orders and follow his instincts.

He would not fail.

Sometimes he despaired of ever attaining full mastery of the Force and thereby

earning his Master's respect-but he knew well how to turn despair to his service, by

using it to fuel his anger and thereby stoke the desire for power. In time, he would

succeed. There was nothing he could not do, in this matter or any other, if he tried

hard enough.

Yet his frown deepened as he watched Juno pilot the ship closer to the facility.

What did he know about her? Nothing, really. In almost every respect, she seemed the

perfect Imperial officer: neat, efficient, and human. That she wasn't afraid to

speak her mind couldn't have bothered his Master overmuch, so he shouldn't let it

bother him. He would trust her with the Rogue Shadow while he went about his duties,

and the Emperor help her if she failed him.

The starfighter facility was much larger than it had seemed from a distance, looking

like a stack of round plates hanging high above the Vertical City. What he had

assumed were lights flashing across its irregular surface resolved into explosions

when viewed from a nearer perspective. Vast balls of yellow-hot gas erupted at

irregular intervals from shattered viewports, weakened bulkheads, and burst access

tubes...

"The shipyard's sustained heavy damage," Juno said matter-of-factly as she looked

for a place to dock.

"I can see that." The apprentice peered with her. Former general Rahm Kota had

obviously been busy. "Get us closer."

The Rogue Shadow wove gracefully between gouts of flame. The apprentice was forced

to admire Juno's deft hand at the controls. The only tension she showed as the ship

rocked and slewed was in her jaw. It was clenched tight.

He rode out the turbulence with a calm, confident center, enjoying the sharp eddies

and currents of the Force. Some craved peace and quiet in order to detach from the

cares of the galaxy. He, however, had learned to find himself in any environment-the

noisier, in fact, the better. In conflict it was easier to become one with the dark

side. Violence was the ultimate meditation.

"Over there," he said, pointing. "That looks like an open hangar."

She nodded tightly. "It is defended."

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"We don't have the time to talk to security." Or to explain that he was forbidden to

let anyone know who they were. "Come in hot. Let me handle the defenses."

With well-practiced moves of his own, he activated the ship's weapons systems and

took a bead on the cannon emplacements protecting the open hangar. He waited until

automated targeting hail registered their presence and they swiveled to take aim at

the Rogue Shadow. Then, with two precise shots, he destroyed the emplacements and

thus cleared the way for a landing.

Juno didn't waste any time. The starfighter streaked into the hangar and settled

onto a flat space clear of debris. As thrusters brought the Rogue Shadow to a halt,

the apprentice was already out of his seat.

"I will slice into the mainframe and guide you through the infrastructure," Juno

said, slipping a commset over her right ear. "Your friend here can help me."

The apprentice didn't dissuade her, although he knew her efforts would be mostly

unnecessary. He could already feel the presence of the Jedi radiating through the

facility like a bright light after a snowstorm. Kota wanted to be found, all right.

"Just keep the ship safe," he told her, "and be ready to leave when I get back. We

might need to move quickly."

"That is my specialty," she said through the comlink on his wrist as he glided

through the ship to the exit ramp, which was fully extended before he arrived. He

smelled smoke and spilled blood on the air. That and the faint stench of Jedi made

his heart quicken. His eyes narrowed. He took a running jump out of the ship.

His lightsaber was lit before he hit the deck, ready to deflect the shots fired his

way by the contingent of troopers sent to investigate their landing. The Force

guided his arm-no, the Force was his arm. That was how it felt to him. During

moments such as these, he was purely a vessel for the dark side. It rushed through

him like wine down the neck of a bottle, joyous with release and the promise of more

to come. His blade drew glowing lines through the air, casting energy bolts back at

the troopers who'd fired them, sending them sprawling in a shower of sparks.

A dozen open-helmeted men and women in brown combat uniforms-Kota's insurgents, the

apprentice presumed-came down the hangar's primary access corridor, sealing the

blast door behind them. Baring his teeth, he ran to meet them, eager to take the

offensive. Their rifles were no match for the power of the Force. A single, powerful

push scattered them like dolls. One he blasted with lightning. A second he choked

until all consciousness fled. A third he swept up and pounded against the nearest

bulk-head. The rest he dismembered with graceful aggression, ignoring their cries of

fear and pain.

The blast door opened, and both insurgents and Imperials retreated through it.

"All Imperial squads maintain offensive stance," blared a voice over the intercom.

"All squads maintain offensive stance!"

The apprentice grinned and followed his welcoming committee up the corridor.

"Can you hear me?" Juno said through the comlink.

"Yes."

"Reports are showing that Kota's forces have stormed the command bridge."

"Then that's where I'm headed." He stepped over the bodies and followed her

directions to the letter.

Her calm voice guided him level by level up a huge chasm leading to the top of the

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facility. Once he was out of her sight, he didn't have to worry about her asking

questions about his harsh treatment of their supposed comrades. Lord Vader could

fill her in on that point later, if he thought it necessary. For now Kota was the

most important thing.

"The intruders may try using TIE fighter assembly lines as cover," she said. "And I

am picking up explosives on my scanners. Be careful."

He assured her he would, even as he dodged a trap laid by Kota's insurgents at the

top of a turbolift shaft. The voice over the station's intercom became progressively

more alarmed.

"Threat status upgraded. Eliminate all unauthorized personnel."

"Unnecessary force is authorized."

"All K-Level squads report in!"

"Reinforce local security stations immediately!"

The walls shook from an explosion so close, it must have buckled every bulkhead on

that level. Always he kept in mind Juno's echoing of his own observation: We are

walking into a trap. Except he was doing the walking while she sat in the ship, safe

from BlasTech E-11 rifles and the insurgents' ragtag weapons.

"Another stormtrooper squadron has reached Hangar Twelve," Juno informed him. "It

looks like we will have some help in retaking the facility."

"The station is not our concern."

"But Imperial High Command will be quite upset if the TIE assembly lines are

damaged..."

"I don't answer to High Command. Now cut the chatter. I'm trying to concentrate."

On the floor of a massive starfighter assembly rig, he stopped with his head raised

and his lightsaber cocked. A prickling in the back of his neck warned him of a new

threat just as a railgun charge exploded to his right, sending bits of TIE fighter

in all directions. He deflected the main force of the explosion, but was still stung

by tiny pieces of shrapnel down the back of his right hand.

"Give up!" the insurgents shouted. "We have the factory!"

"What is he?" called another to one of his fellows. "Some kind of shadow trooper?"

"Doesn't matter. Blast him!"

Anger rose up in him, pure and clean, sweeping all other concerns aside. He vaulted

a stack of detached solar gather panels and sent a stream of machine parts raining

down on the source of the weapons fire.

Screams sounded over the crashing of metal. Kota's insurgents scattered from behind

the TIE cockpits they had been using as shelter. Some fired shots at him, employing

a range of weaponry that displayed either a lack of organization or restricted

resources, or both. He deflected every shot with controlled fury and poured his rage

into retaliation. He felt no need to hold back. Those disloyal to the Empire

deserved everything they got.

Only when the last was buried under a small mountain of titanium alloy hull plates

and reactor shielding did he examine in more detail the equipment they had been

carrying. As well as their motley weapons and mismatched armor, the fighters had

brought explosive timer packs and had clearly been setting such charges elsewhere on