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)
Starkiller never talked about what was going on in his head, but she could tell that
he, too, was troubled. His social skills were nonexistent. He wouldn't talk about
his feelings, his past, or anything other than the present. Only the fact that he
had saved her made it endurable.
He never talked, although she had prompted him to, about how he had managed to
survive the terrible wound his Master had inflicted. In the absence of hard facts,
she could only wonder. Prosthetics weren't the only answer she had come up with.
Could he be to strong in the Force that he could stave off death, the ultimate
enemy? Was that how he had survived against so many adversaries? Or had some
disloyal Imperial really scooped his body out ol the sky and shipped it to the
secret lab, where it had been repaired without his former Master finding out?
The alternatives were too strange and horrible to contemplate.
Sometimes his screams woke her from restless sleep, ringing Out from the meditation
room and echoing through the ship. Sometimes he called Vader's name; other times he
called hers, in fear, despair, or anger. More often, he just screamed as though his
heart were being cut out.
Her heart broke to hear it. And despite the fact that her life had fallen to pieces
ever since they'd met, she remained inclined to follow him. Still, if he expected
her to nursemaid this crusty old Jedi on the brink of utter decrepitude, he would
find out just how far her loyalty could be stretched . . .
PROXY suddenly stirred. She blinked out of her thoughts and guiltily tried to look
as though she was working. The droid paid her not the slightest attention, however,
unfolding from his seat and heading aft. The sound of his metal footsteps led to the
meditation chamber; the hatch slid open, and PROXY went inside.
She hesitated a moment, then opened the screen that enabled her to spy on the
activities within. In the deep gloom of the chamber, Starkiller knelt with his eyes
closed and his back to the door, which her viewpoint covered. The faint shape of
PROXY glowed all over for a second, morphing into a new shape. When the
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transformation was complete, he stood some centimeters taller and broader than
before, with a beard and long hair, and wearing the standard robes of a Jedi Knight.
The new expression he wore was one of determined solemnity.
Starkiller opened his eyes but didn't move until PROXY had activated a bright green
lightsaber and raised it vertically in a balanced, two-handed pose on the right side
of his body. Then Starkiller was up and defending himself so quickly that Juno had
hardly seen him move. PROXY rained blows upon him with .1 speed and athleticism
belying his construction. Spinning, tumbling, and cartwheeling all across the room,
he was constantly on the offensive, employing swings that were both fast and
powerful. Starkiller had his hands full deflecting them all. In the flickering,
light, she saw sweat standing out on his forehead.
The clash and crackle of lightsabers filled her earpiece. She turned the volume down
so as not to disturb Kota's sleep. This wasn't the first time she had witnessed a
duel between Starkiller and his training droid. They had fought like dervishes
during the first days after fleeing the Empirical, the droid obviously helping him
let off steam. But for those releases, she wondered if the pres sure cooker of his
mind would steadily build up stresses until he exploded.
She hadn't learned, however, to relax during them. Starkiller never lost-which was
lucky, because PROXY spoke with disarming openness of his intention to kill his
master should he ever find a chink in his armor. What life would be like after such
a fatal mishap, she didn't like to think, so for now she tolerated the occasional
practice sessions, even if she couldn't enjoy them.
PROXY didn't stay still for a second, attacking from the ground, the walls, the
ceiling, even from midair. It was like watching a dance, but one in which the
slightest slip could mean death. Starkiller danced with him long enough for her to
worry, then he changed his own style to match that of the droid's-and suddenly she
could see the difference between the human and the mechanical. Where PROXY had been
fast, Starkiller was graceful as well. Where PROXY had simply slashed and stabbed,
Starkiller applied flourishes to his offensive strikes. Where every move PROXY made
involved his entire body, Starkiller could launch an attack with one finger, or
block by shifting his foot a single centimeter.
The end came suddenly, with the green lightsaber stabbing deep into the belly of the
unknown Jedi. Starkiller withdrew the blade and stepped backward. The other
lightsaber deactivated and fell with a thunk to the metal floor. Starkiller's
virtual opponent crumpled forward and had returned to PROXY'S usual form before he
hit the ground.
"I've failed again," came the muffled voice of the droid. "I'm lorry, master."
"It's not your fault, PROXY." Starkiller extended a hand and 11.1uled the droid to
his feet. "Ataru doesn't work properly without the Force. You managed a credible
impersonation of it, though, especially in such a confined place."
"Thank you, master. Perhaps I will succeed next time."
Starkiller patted him with genuine affection. "You know, you did surprise me. I
thought you were Kota."
"Now, he would make a fine training module." The droid fairly quivered at the
praise. "Perhaps one day I will see him fight. That way I could observe how he moves
and re-create him for you."
"Perhaps, PROXY," Starkiller said, his expression taking on a darker shade. "Is he
awake yet?"
"I do not know, master, but our destination nears."
"Good." Together they left the chamber.
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Juno switched off the screen and turned to be ready for them when they emerged into
the cockpit.
She jumped when she saw Kota sitting up in his chair. For a moment she feared that
he had heard everything she'd been listening to through her earpiece, but then she
realized that what she had initially read as alertness, perhaps even suspicion, was
actually the aftereffects of alcohol poisoning.
"I was beginning to worry that you'd died in your sleep," she said.
The corners of his lips pulled down. "I wish I had."
Starkiller entered with PROXY in tow. "Are we close?" he asked, taking the copilot's
chair and turning toward her. The strange angularities of hyperspace reflected in
his eyes.
She checked the instruments. "We'll be arriving any second now."
Right on cue, the view blurred and shifted into the more familiar starscape of the
galactic backdrop. Kashyyyk was a patchwork sphere in green and blue hanging off the
starboard bow. It was .1 beautiful world, but she could tell that it had seen hard
times. The scars of orbital bombardment were still visible, years after they had
been inflicted. She imagined the smoke that must have risen from those burning
forests and was glad for the Wookiees that their home had been spared Callos's fate.
She employed the Rogue Shadow's advanced sensors to scan the space around the
planet. It was dense with signals, but not much traffic, both mostly Imperial in
origin. Several capital ships prowled the upper orbits, cannons and patrols at the
ready. Quite a few transports were gathering about a point just out of sight around
the planet's horizon. She urged the ship on in order to obtain a clearer view.
When the particular orbital location came into sight, it took her a moment to
realize what she was seeing. It was more than just an ordinary equatorial docking
station, but at first glance the difference defied her imagination. Her eyes saw it;
her mind rebelled.
A skyhook hung over Kashyyyk, floating on repulsors just outside the planet's upper
atmosphere. A sturdy, utilitarian structure tethered to a cleared area far below, it
obviously wasn't the local dictator's mansion or a resort for jaded Moffs. It wasn't
finished yet, either. Dozens of cargo ships and construction droids surrounded its
summit, glinting in the golden sunlight.
At the sight of the rare construction and the strong Imperial presence, she shook
her head.
"I definitely think this mission is too dangerous now."
Even Starkiller seemed to be having second thoughts. "Your contact had better be
reliable," he told Kota with a sour look.
"I trust him with my life." The hungover general didn't ask what they were seeing.
Perhaps he already knew. "He smuggled me to Cloud City, and he's an old ally of the
Jedi Order."
"It's all very well to hear that," Juno said, "but without knowing who he is, you're
putting us in a difficult spot."
"You're not the only ones reluctant to give names to strangers." The general huffed
out his cheeks. "If you want my help, this is how you're going to get it. There's
something very valuable to my friend down on Kashyyyk. You extract it for him and I
maybe he'll agree to help you fight the Empire."
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Juno watched Starkiller's face. He showed no sign of uncertainty.
"Have we been spotted, Juno?"
"No. The cloaking device is operating at peak efficiency." "Then take us down."
She mock-saluted to cover her unease. "It's going to be tricky keeping our heads low
out here," she said as she turned the ship on its new course. "The traffic's not
heavy enough to vanish into, but H is sufficient that someone will spot us if we go
to ground. And we can't use the cloak forever. If the stygium crystals overheat,
they'll be useless."
"Do what you can," Starkiller told her. "I'll try not to be too long."
"Is that what you told your last pilot?"
The words came out before she'd properly thought about them, and she regretted them
instantly. Kota was listening, she told herself angrily. The ex-Jedi could never
know who they were or what they had done, no matter what.
She glanced at Starkiller. His ears were burning. His expression looked furious.
Juno pushed the Rogue Shadow down into the atmosphere, hoping that the noise and
turbulence of entry would cover the fact that she was furious at herself, too.
* * *
SWOOPING OVER ROLLING, GREEN HILLS close to the coordinates Kota gave her, she
brought the ship down low enough and long enough for Starkiller to leap into the
forest canopy and shimmy down a wide-boled tree. She didn't stop to look behind her,
waiting only until his voice over the comlink assured her that he was safe. Then she
was flying the ship back up to space, where n<> messy contrails or lookouts could
betray their presence. PROXY wandered back to the meditation chamber, perhaps to
practice his Kota impersonation in private.
It took her half an hour to plot an orbit that would keep tin-ship well out of range
of Imperial sensors. When she was done, she glanced over her shoulder. The general
had slumped down into his seat with his arms folded and let his chin rest firmly on
his chest. His skin was pale and drawn. His eye sockets were sunken beneath their
bandages.
"Stay awake, General," she said.
"If there's really nothing to drink on this ship," Kota said with a surly drawl,
"I'd rather you let me go back to sleep."
"Our friend down there might need your help."
"Your friend, not mine." Kota's lips pursed. "I don't even know who he is-or how you
two came to own a ship like this."
She thought quickly. So the general had heard her comment about Starkiller's
previous pilots. He was surely bringing it up now to needle her. The obvious option
was to ignore him, but that would only rouse his suspicions even further. She had to
tell him something, just as long as it wasn't the truth. Or at least the whole
truth.
"We stole it," she said.
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"Who from?"
"You don't need to know."
"I can guess. I've flown a few ships with cloaking devices down the years, but I
can't pick out the sound of this one's hyperdrive. It's something new, probably
military." Through the grouchiness he wore like his own disguising cloak, she could
tell that he was testing her. "Our common enemy, perhaps."
She said nothing. He was a Jedi. If she gave away too much, he might match the Rogue
Shadow to the ship in which Darth Vader's assassin had arrived at the TIE fighter
factory-and that would be the end of everything. He chuckled low in his throat, then
coughed long and hard, " Don't worry, Juno," he said when his voice returned. "I'm
hardly going to turn you in."
"I didn't think..."
"You're fugitives, just like me. You have nothing to lose."
Only our futures, she thought. Our slates are clean. We could start all over again,
if we wanted to.
His face seemed to visibly age. She wondered if he was thinking, of all the friends
and loved ones he had lost over the years-not just to Order 66, but throughout his
subsequent insurgency as well. And his sight, too. He had yet to tell her how he had