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)
she'd fully changed sides until Starkiller had been revealed to be a traitor, before
they'd been back to Raxus Prime.
When he raised his head and turned to her, he was resolved. Grief had evolved into
anger, and that was evolving in turn into determination. It was like watching carbon
turn to diamond in a high-pressure industrial oven. Starkiller was becoming a
different person as she watched, as Kota had during his short time on Corellia.
Not "Starkiller," she reminded herself. Galen. "We're going after Vader," he said in
a fierce but level voice. "And the Rebels."
She nodded tightly, thinking that it sounded simple but was likely to be anything
but.
They had cleared the atmosphere and were accelerating away from the planet's busy
skylanes. The Star Destroyer that had carried off Vader and his prisoners was long
gone.
"Where?" she asked, voicing the first of many questions that plagued her.
"I don't know," he admitted. "Not yet."
He closed his eyes and leaned back into the copilot's chair.
"Don't nod off without giving me some idea," she said, unable to keep the worry from
her voice.
"I'm not sleeping," he said without opening his eyes. "I'm meditating-or trying to.
Jedi can sometimes see visions of the future."
He looked tense and awkward. She had never seen the hands folded across his lap so
still. Surely, she thought, this wasn't the kind of training Darth Vader had given
him. Meditating had nothing to do with hunting and killing, or the persecution of
the innocent.
"Have you done this before?" she asked, wondering if it was training he had set
himself down the years.
He shook his head once. "I've never been a Jedi before."
An intense stillness flowed through him, as visible as though he had changed color.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Better that he concentrate and she got on with
the business of prepping the ship for hyperspace.
Corellia shrank to a blue-green ball behind them, and the traffic thinned out. She
took navigation readings from the planet's orbital factories and double-checked them
against the system's four other habitable worlds. Everything was in accord with the
nav computer's settings. Next she ran a thorough check of the hyper-drive to make
sure it hadn't been tampered with by the Imperials. The ship had been out of her
sight for less than an hour, but .1 lot could be done in that time. Inertial
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dampeners could be rigged to fail at a critical moment, crushing everyone aboard in
the tremendous accelerations achieved during a jump. Shields could flutter, leaving
the ship vulnerable to impacts with interstellar dust. Null quantum field generators
could be timed to dump them in the middle of nowhere. She could think of a dozen
ways that Vader might have covered his bets against their escape. She checked all of
them herself, one by one.
No one had followed them from Corellia. As far as she could tell no one was
monitoring their departure.
Beside her, Galen breathed slowly and steadily with his eyes closed. An hour passed
and nothing changed. Whatever he was doing, it obviously didn't come easily. Her
understanding of the Force was limited to stories mocking the superstitious beliefs
of an old and outdated religion-plus the rumors that continued to circulate through
Imperial ranks. The Jedi Purge might have been years ago, but people had long
memories. Serving officers of a certain generation still remembered Order 66 and the
Clone Wars. The telling and retelling of such stories had created a strange backdrop
of distorted facts, mistaken beliefs, and pure misinformation that emerged whenever
the word Jedi was mentioned.
A faint vibration made the ship's decks rattle. Concerned, she checked the
sublights. Finding everything in order, she assumed that they had just passed
through a dense region of interplanetary dust.
When the vibration returned, stronger and longer than before, and the cause still
remained unknown, she began to worry about what form of sabotage she could have
missed-to the generator, the stabilizers, even life support. . .
A faint sound to her left interrupted her train of thought. She turned to look at
Galen and her eyes widened in surprise.
His lightsaber was floating in the air in front of him, turning slowly as though in
free fall.
Juno stared at it for a moment, and then reached out to check the gravity
generators. She stopped herself, knowing that they hadn't been tampered with. She
could feel the field around her, operating normally. Yet still the lightsaber
floated, and as she watched more items in the cockpit joined its aerial display: her
blaster and holster, a cup, a datapad. The ship shuddered again, as though something
powerful and mysterious was subtly interfering with its function.
Galen's eyes rolled under his closed eyelids. A line had formed between his
eyebrows. His lips twitched.
She raised a hand to shake him, but found her fingers effortlessly deflected. The
Force filling the ship was emanating from him.
His frown deepened. His head turned to the right, then to the left.
"Galen? Are you all right?"
His hands clenched and unclenched, then his whole body twitched, making her jump.
"Galen, can you hear me?"
He moaned softly, as though caught in a nightmare. His skin was slick with sweat.
She crouched in the pilot's seat, unable to do anything but watch.
He moaned again, louder this time. His legs kicked out, making the whole cockpit
shake. The objects floating in the air began to spin around them. The lights
flickered.
"No," he said distinctly. His head jerked from side to side, his face locked in a
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rictus of pain. "No, Kota-!"
His eyes shot open. She gasped. The objects around them crashed to the floor. He
stared at nothing for a second, wildly, frightened. His chest rose and fell as
though he had just run a marathon. His breathing was the only sound in the suddenly
still cockpit.
"What?" she asked when she could bear the silence no longer. "What did you see?"
He turned to her and stared as though he didn't recognize her.
Then he shook his head and the visions clouding his sight fell away.
"A terrible thing," he said in a shaky voice. "A massive space station-still under
construction..." He lunged suddenly and took her hand. His fingers gripped hers with
surprising strength.
"Yes," he said. "Plot a course for the Outer Rim. The Horuz system."
A chill colder than the snow of Corellia's mountains swept through her. "What's
waiting for us there, Galen?"
"I'll tell you on the way," he said, pulling back slightly. "What
I know of it, anyway."
She saw a new grief in his eyes, and that frightened her. "Do you know how this is
going to end?" For Kota? For us?
He hesitated, and then shook his head. "No."
She wasn't sure that she believed him, but she let the matter drop and turned to
prep the starship for lightspeed.
HORUZ SYSTEM.
The apprentice excused himself when they were under way and retired to the
meditation chamber-not to meditate but to check his lightsaber for damage and to
sort out the thoughts running through his mind. He supposed the latter was a kind of
meditation, but it wasn't one Juno could help him with. The calming, reassuring
presence she had provided in the cockpit wasn't what he needed now.
The planet Despayre.
He knelt in the center of the room and took the weapon to pieces, carefully cleaning
and reinstalling them, one by one. The lightsaber would never burn red, but it had
been wielded by a Sith all the same. Its crystals would never be clean again. He
replaced all of them, activated the blade, and found the resonance much improved. As
a weapon its function was identical, but in his hand it would perform better than
ever. The Death Star.
It all came down to weapons, as far as the Empire was concerned.
Sighing, he shut off the blade and confronted the visions he had received while
meditating. He had glimpsed the future before-several times now, while on the brink
of death-but this was different. This time it had been his conscious choice to
pierce the boundary of the present, and he had made that choice with a clear act of
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will. That didn't make interpreting what he had seen any easier. In fact, it made it
more difficult, because instead of remembering isolated fragments, now he remembered
everything, and not all of it could be true. At least, not all of it at once.
The future was a mess of possibilities-some likely, some incredibly unlikely-shot
through with hard certainties that were unchanged in every outcome. The Death Star
was one such certainty: an enormous battle station that, when completed, would rain
still more terror on the Emperor's subjects and ensure his domination of the galaxy.
Its location was another certainty, and that this was where Vader had taken his
prisoners.
The apprentice knew exactly that much with confidence. The rest was a morass of
contradictions. In some futures, he survived; in others he fell. Juno lived; Juno
died. They were together; they were apart. The Rebels prevailed; the Rebels were
annihilated. In one future, even PROXY was still alive, something that had patently
not occurred in the time line he occupied.
The glimpse of a wider universe of what might and might not have been made his head
ache, and made preparing for what might yet be even more difficult.
The thought of PROXY made his heart ache. The droid had been freed by the Core from
his primary programming on Raxus Prime, and that had allowed him to sacrifice
himself for his master rather than try to kill him. The apprentice struggled with
that fact. What was freedom worth if it led to death? Would he have sacrificed his
life for PROXY, had the roles been reversed? Would he do it for Juno?
Every time Juno called him Galen, he felt a very different kind of emotional spike.
On Raxus Prime, when he had tried to call on the naive audacity of the boy he had
once been to bring down the Star Destroyer, nothing had stirred in him. No memories,
no buried personalities, no hidden strength. He had worried at that fact ever since,
wondering if his vision on Kashyyyk had been mistaken after all, or if Galen had
been so thoroughly erased that no vestige of him remained.
But now he understood. When he had turned to Juno at the base of the cliff and told
her his name, it had been him telling her, not the ghost of his former self. Galen
had ignored his summons on Raxus Prime because he was already there. He had
possessed the strength to do what he needed to do. He always had. It was Galen as
much as Darth Vader's apprentice who had invoked the thought of Juno to make him
strong. They were one and the same person.
He still couldn't think of himself that way. He had been nothing but an apprentice
for all his conscious life. It might be years before he was completely free of his
Master's taint, if he survived that long . . .
He closed his eyes in weariness and was immediately overwhelmed by images:
...the Emperor dead and Darth Vader in charge of the Empire, with him at his side...Darth Vader dead and the apprentice knighted by the Emperor as his successor...Kota stabbing him in the back and both of them dying in a fatal exhalation of the
Force...Kota fighting the Emperor and falling, blasted by Sith lightning until he was
barely recognizable"Coming up on Horuz," Juno called from the cockpit.
He forced his eyes open, unsure how long he had been caught up in his future
memories. Standing on legs that still felt unsteady after all that had happened in
recent times, he put the lightsaber back at his hip and joined her as the ship came
out of hyperspace.
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* * *
THE DEATH STAR WAS EXACTLY as he had seen it through the Force. The size of a small
moon, it hung balefully over the prison planet, still very much under construction
but recognizably a sphere designed to be solid from pole to pole, with a concave
dish dimpling one side like a large crater, possibly belonging to an oversized
communications or sensor system. The lines of the station were blurred by thousands
of droids, ranging from tiny construction units to massive cranes and welders that
dwarfed even those on the Raxus Prime shipyard. Gaps in the exterior armor plating
revealed an extensive skeleton strong enough to hold up under significant
acceleration. Gravity generators the size of office blocks provided a steady "down"
for everyone and everything within its operating radius. He didn't know the
specifications of the various drives, reactors, and life-support systems on which
the diabolical station would depend when it was fully operational, but he could
imagine.
Sometimes imagination wasn't a good thing.
Telemetry showed thousands of ships in the sensors' range. The station's immediate
vicinity was full of support vessels carrying raw materials in and waste out. Some