Read The Force Unleashed Online
Authors: Sean Williams
Tags: #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction - Adventure, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #Space warfare, #Adventure, #Science Fiction - Space Opera, #Space Opera, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Star Wars fiction, #Imaginary wars and battles, #Science Fiction - Star Wars, #Darth Vader (Fictitious character)
City that I can't help you. Not since ..." Again, the gesture at his ruined eyes
that Juno had seen all too many times. It had become a catchall excuse for anything
the ex-Jedi found too confrontational. "He's your hero," Kota said, raising his chin
in Starkiller's direction, "and it's his rebellion. Join us because he's asking you
to, not me."
The Senator rubbed his bearded chin, weighing his options. His sharp eyes studied
both men in front of him, the young and the old, and what he made of their strange
alliance he kept to himself. "You're the first to openly take direct action against
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the Empire," he said. "But we're not prepared to go to war. We need weapons and
starships, and people with the courage to use them. I don't know how many others
will stand with us."
"Ships and weapons we can find," said Kota.
"There's no shortage of people," said Juno.
"And you're already thinking about who you'll approach first," said Starkiller,
studying the Senator with a shrewd expression.
Organa looked at him and nodded. "Well, yes. There are other Senators who have
spoken out against the Emperor. But they'll be hard to convince. Talk is cheap in
the Senate, sometimes. Action is a much more expensive commodity."
"We just need to show them that the Empire is vulnerable," said Kota gruffly.
"Yes," Organa said. "Show them in a way that can't be written off as an accident.
HoloNews doesn't cover everything, but word still spreads. And that word will be
like acid eating at the foundations of the Empire. When push comes to shove, it will
topple. The right push in the right place ..."
"Let me meditate on the details," said Starkiller. "I'm sure I'll find the right
target. In the meantime, Senator, make contact with your friends and allies. We're
going to need all the help we can get."
The Senator hesitated, then nodded. "All right. Alone, I could not prevent even my
own daughter being taken hostage. Together we might make a difference for everyone
in the galaxy." I l< reached out a hand and gripped Starkiller's tightly. "That is
the hope you've given me today. I will honor it."
Nodding farewell to Juno, he turned to Kota. "What about you, General Kota?" he
asked. "Where does your path lead? I have room in my ship for a passenger."
Again, Kota snorted. "Not on your life. The booze is better in the boy's ship."
Organa's face filled with sorrow, but Kota couldn't see it. The Senator gripped him
by both shoulders and said in a voice that was superficially cheerful, "Well, be
sure to keep your head down, old friend, and leave the fighting to someone else."
They parted. Organa walked across the spongy mushroom cap to his transport, which
PROXY still guarded. The droid saluted the Senator as he entered his ship, then all
four of them walked back into the Rogue Shadow.
"Give him an escort to orbit," Starkiller told Juno before heading aft. "It'd be a
disaster if he were caught by a lucky Imperial patrol now."
Kota said nothing as she warmed up the drives and lifted off. Glad to be leaving
Felucia behind-for the last time, she hoped-she trailed Organa's shuttle as it
broke atmosphere and prepared to engage its hyperdrive.
"Who are you contacting now?" Juno asked Kota as she noted a coded message leaving
the ship.
He didn't answer. When she turned to check on him she saw that he was sitting in the
jump seat with his hands folded across his lap, to all appearances asleep.
Shrugging, she lay down a course to an empty system and sent the ship on its way.
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THE APPRENTICE STOOD IN THE meditation chamber with his head bowed, and waited.
The plan was going well. Bail Organa had been rescued and convinced to contemplate
open aggression against the Emperor. His daughter, too, had failed to see through
the disguise he wore-one of loathing for Imperials and their hard lines against
aliens and women. Kota's continuing presence unnerved him slightly, but he was
certain he could keep the old man fooled. The disguise was becoming second nature
now.
But was it entirely a disguise? Certainly when he talked of betraying Palpatine, he
meant every word. The Emperor deserved no less for ordering his death. And he
remained under no illusions as to the ultimate outcome of his mission. Everyone he
gathered to the cause would be used by his Master to destroy the Emperor, but not to
destroy the Empire. Kota and Bail and their allies would all be killed, no doubt,
before putting someone they wanted in charge.
He told himself not to lose any sleep over the would-be rebels. Theirs was a cause
lost before it was even begun. And if he took a certain pride in being looked up to
and relied upon, he knew it couldn't last. Best not to think about it anymore.
But what about Juno's fate? Could he save her from that awaiting the others? He
longed to talk openly with her about his ultimate goal, to abandon the lies and the
deception with her, if no one else. But the thought provoked a storm of emotion. For
every argument in favor of it, there were three against. She had been branded a
traitor by the Empire so had no choice except to follow him-but he couldn't bear the
thought of what she might say, so he stayed silent in the hope that all would become
clear on both sides, in time.
While he waited, he considered a change of clothes. The uniform his Master had given
him on the Empirical now stank of rancor blood, and always would, no matter how he
scrubbed at it. The Rogue Shadow had been stocked with several outfits in his size,
in preparation for his mission, but the range was limited to either black or brown.
The colors of the Sith or Jedi, he realized, de pending on whom he was representing.
He had pulled out a rack of dark browns, thinking it might be time to more clearly
display his supposed allegiance to the forces of so-called good, but he balked at
putting them on. Stripped to the waist, clad only in his blood-tainted leather pants
and boots, he looked inside himself for the courage required simply to dress.
It matters, he thought, if not to me then to those around me, I'm not used to having
allies . . .
Someone moved in the shadows. Gooseflesh tightened the skin between his naked
shoulder blades. He raised his head.
"I know you're there," he said. "Show yourself."
A brown-robed human figure stepped out of the shadow, with one gloved or artificial
hand and thick, dark blond hair. His eyes were in shadow, but there was no mistaking
his intent. A bright blue lightsaber flashed into life as the figure approached, his
steps quickening, intent on attack.
"A new one, PROXY? Excellent."
The apprentice swept his lightsaber into his hand and blocked the first of a series
of rapid-fire blows. The droid had been working on this module for some time, it
seemed, judging by the skill he displayed. His combat style ranged from the
aggressive Jedi style Shien to the more advanced form of Djem So with occasional
flashes of rage that pushed the combat beyond offensive barrage to outright,
fury-fueled Juyo. The apprentice danced with feet and blade, admiring the techniques
and tricks of his newest opponent-whom he naturally recognized as the long-dead
Clone Wars hero Anakin Skywalker-and prolonging the duel to see where it might lead.
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But despite his intellectual interest in PROXY'S handiwork, his heart wasn't in it.
He had fought real Jedi Knights now, and fallen Jedi Padawans. In his visions he had
fought as his Master, Darth Vader, and even fought himself. Such duels were very
real, whereas this felt, suddenly, empty, and no longer served even as a
distraction. Were it not for PROXY'S feelings, he would end it quickly and conserve
his energy for other purposes.
Even as he thought that, PROXY surprised him. Ducking under a particularly rash
stroke, the droid rolled as expected but came up empty-handed. The apprentice looked
for the lightsaber and saw it barely in time to avoid dismemberment. PROXY had used
his repulsors to imitate a telekinetic push that sent the hilt of the lightsaber
spinning across the room and back again-a move the apprentice had never seen him use
before. The apprentice's block stopped the blade from slashing his throat, but in
ricocheting it scored a gash down his arm. The light wound sent a neural shock
through his system. He laughed, not just at the sudden rush of adrenaline and
endorphins.
"Well done, PROXY," he said. "You almost had me there." The droid didn't break his
disguise as he fell back under a flurry of retaliatory blows. Revitalized by the
reminder that even play-fighting with PROXY could be deadly, the apprentice drove
the droid into a corner and rammed the tip of his blade through PROXY'S metal chest.
The hologram sparked and flickered. PROXY'S familiar features appeared through those
of the legendary Jedi Knight, and the apprentice reached out to steady him.
But something was wrong. The static didn't dissipate as 1101 mal. It seemed, if
anything, to be growing stronger, as though tin-semblance of the dead Anakin
Skywalker was reluctant to dissipate.
"Master!" the droid gasped in some agitation. "Master, he's here!"
PROXY stiffened, straightened, and seemed to swell in size. It wasn't the brown of
the Jedi's robes and hair forming out of the chaos of the static, however, but the
black protective suit of Darth Vader.
Surprised, the apprentice took two steps backward and re gained his composure.
Going down on one knee, he bowed his head before his Master.
"Lord Vader, you received my message."
The domed head didn't move. The apprentice didn't know whether to be relieved or
worried. Behind that black mask, invisible eyes seemed to dissect him like a failed
experiment. "Tell me of your progress."
"I have recruited several dissidents to my cause. They trust me, and I believe they
have the capacity to do as we require."
"If your mission goes so well, why do you seek my counsel?"
The apprentice took a deep breath. "My allies seek a major strike against the
Empire, something that will galvanize all the Emperor's enemies into one potent
force. I told them that I would supply a suitable target."
Lord Vader contemplated the question a moment before responding. "The Emperor rules
the galaxy through fear. You must destroy a symbol of that fear."
"Yes, Lord Vader."
"The Empire has been building Star Destroyers above Raxus Prime. That shipyard is
your next target."
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The apprentice nodded, thinking the proposal through. Star Destroyers were very
visible symbols of Imperial control, monstrous oppressors dreaded in the skies of
those yearning for freedom. Destroying even one would be quite an achievement;
destroying the source of many would be a rallying cry for outright rebellion-if he
could only do it. . .
Then he remembered. He wasn't talking to rebels now, and this wasn't a proposal. It
was an order.
"Thank you, Lord Vader," he said. "I will leave at once."
He waited for the hologram to disperse, as it usually did when he was dismissed, but
his Master hadn't finished with him. He raised his head and found himself still the
subject of that darkly penetrating regard.
"There is much conflict in you," his Master said.
Taken off guard, the apprentice was momentarily lost for words. A rush of images
overwhelmed him: of blinded, dispirited Kota, of Maris Brood begging for her life,
of his dead father and himself-Galen-lying slain at his feet, and of the fiery pain
of his Master's blade burning through his back.
He straightened, then, knowing what he should say. "My injuries trouble me, Master.
I can't help wondering how much of me is still human."
"No." The plausible lie wasn't accepted by his Master. "Your feelings for your new
allies are growing stronger. Do not forget that you still serve me."
With that, the hologram did dissolve and PROXY returned to his normal appearance and
size. , "Ugh," the droid said with a shudder. "I hate being him."
The apprentice stood, deep in thought, and nodded. "I think he does, too."
PROXY'S photoreceptors blinked and looked over his shoulder. "Master ..."
He knew Juno was there before he turned. He could feel it in the sinking of his
stomach and the sudden surge in his heartbeat. But how long exactly had she been
there? What had she seen?
When he saw the expression on her face, he knew she had seen everything.
"Juno ..."
"I-I wanted to find out where we're heading next. You were training and didn't hear
me come in, so I decided to wait." Confusion and concern threatened to overwhelm
her; then her expression hardened. She swallowed and said, "But it looks like you've
already been told where to go."
She turned to leave, and the apprentice crossed the room in a panic and took her
shoulder.
"Juno, wait, this isn't what..."
"Of course it is," she snapped, pulling away from him and folding her arms. "You're