The Old Republic Series
Page 1
Fatal Alliance, Deceived, Revan, and Annihilation are works of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual evants, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Del Rey Ebook Omnibus Edition
Fatal Alliance copyright © 2010 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM where indicated.
Deceived copyright © 2011 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM where indicated.
Revan copyright © 2011 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM where indicated.
Annihilation copyright © 2012 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM where indicated.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
DEL REY and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Fatal Alliance, Deceived, Revan, and Annihilation were each published separately by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York, in 2010, 2011, 2011, and 2012.
ebook ISBN 9781101968765
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v3.1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Fatal Alliance
Deceived
Revan
Annihilation
Other Books by These Authors
About the Authors
Excerpt from Star Wars: Scoundrels
Introduction to the Star Wars Expanded Universe
Introduction to the Old Republic Era
Introduction to the Rise of the Empire Era
Excerpt from Star Wars: Death Star
Introduction to the Rebellion Era
Excerpt from Star Wars: Shadow Games
Introduction to the New Republic Era
Excerpt from Star Wars: Scourge
Introduction to the New Jedi Order Era
Excerpt from Star Wars: New Jedi Order: Vector Prime
Introduction to the Legacy Era
Excerpt from Star Wars: Legacy of the Force: Betrayal
Excerpt from Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Outcast
Star Wars Legends Novels Timeline
Star Wars: The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2010 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM where indicated. All Rights Reserved. Used Under Authorization.
Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
DEL REY is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-307-79604-2
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v3.1_r2
Contents
Master - Table of Contents
Fatal Alliance
Title Page
Copyright
Dramatis Personae
Prologue: Wild Space
Part One: Vested Interests
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part Two: Hutta
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Part Three: The Chase
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Part Four: Sebaddon
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Part Five: Fatal Alliance
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Part Six: Preparations for War
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Epilogue: Tatooine
Dedication
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Dao Stryver; warrior (Mandalorian male)
Darth Chratis; Sith Lord (human male)
Eldon Ax; Sith apprentice (human female)
Jet Nebula; captain, Auriga Fire (human male)
Larin Moxla; former Republic trooper (Kiffar female)
Satele Shan; Jedi Grand Master (human female)
Shigar Konshi; Jedi Padawan (Kiffar male)
Ula Vii; Imperial agent (Epicanthix male)
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.…
THE LIGHT STAR cruiser looked deceptively insignificant against the backdrop of the galaxy. To the keen eye of a pirate, however, it displayed several desirable qualities: no Imperial or Republic markings; only moderate weaponry and shielding; a crew compartment barely large enough to hold a dozen people; no escort or accompanying vessels.
“It’s your choice, Captain,” hissed a guttural voice into Jet Nebula’s ear. “But don’t take too long about it. Our friend here isn’t going to sit still forever.”
The smuggler calling himself “Jet Nebula” enjoyed keeping his first mate on tenterhooks. He harbored no ill feelings about the mutiny in and of itself. The moment the Auriga Fire stumbled across something really valuable, a takeover attempt had been inevitable. He had hired Shinqo knowing exactly that and lost barely a minute’s sleep since. Dealing with scum was part of the job.
He didn’t like needless violence, though. The snub nose of a blaster digging into Jet’s side was pure overkill.
“Well?” Shinqo prompted him in Rodese as he pretended to dither.
“Keep your shirt on,” Jet said in mock-protest. “We only interdicted them a minute ago. It’s way too soon to plot another jump.”
“Just don’t take any chances,” Shinqo said, emphasizing his point with another jab of the blaster. “And be glad we don’t want your ship, as well.”
Something heavy creaked to Jet’s right. The boxy shape of Clunker swayed into view, dented and dusty, photoreceptors glowing bright. Jet shook his head minutely, and the droid backed out of sight again.
“Don’t make me ask twice,” Shinqo said.
“All right, then.” Jet took the captain’s seat and punched the comm active. “Since you put it so nicely, let’s see who these guys are before we steal the hide off their backs.”
The star cruiser’s running lights blinked and flickered against the black. Its systems were still settling after their sudden wrench from hyperspace, but Jet felt sure the comm was working by now. All ears aboard would be straining to hear what the rugged ship hanging off their bows had to say.
He resorted to short, simple phrases that had served him well enough in
the past: “You’re nicked, my beauty. Stand by for boarding.”
“Negative” came the immediate reply. Male, brusque, and human, most likely. “We do not recognize your authority.”
That was a new one. “Who in their right mind would invest any authority in the likes of us?”
“You’re a privateer. You work for the Republic.”
“Now, that simply isn’t true.” Not anymore, anyway, Jet thought. “We’re humble grifters of an independent set, and you happen to have stumbled across our patch. Submit easily, and I’ll see that my bloodthirsty first mate doesn’t blast you all on sight.”
“That won’t happen. We’re on a diplomatic mission.”
“To whom? From where? If I had a credit for every time someone tried that line, you wouldn’t be talking to me now.”
There was a long pause. “All right, then. What will it cost for you to let us go?”
Jet looked at Shinqo, who was calling the shots. Shinqo’s true employers were the Hutts, and sometimes a bribe was worth as much as booty, after the cartels took their cut.
The Rodian shook his head.
“You’re clear out of luck, mate,” Jet told the person on the other end of the comm. “Best vent those air locks, smartish. We’re coming in and don’t want to scuff the merchandise any more than we have to.”
The star cruiser had nothing to say to that.
Shinqo barked into a communicator as Jet brought the sublights into play. “Fekk, Gelss, get ready for action.”
The two Sullustans were part of Shinqo’s treacherous lot, and Jet wouldn’t mind if they paid the price for the mutineers’ haste. Jet had a strong feeling the cruiser wasn’t going to give up lightly. Its lines were too lean, its hull too polished. The name on its starboard side—the only ID it was sporting—said CINZIA in bold black letters, recently affixed. That showed pride.
No, the owners of this ship might not be above offering a bribe to continue on their way, but they wouldn’t roll over easily. Few did, these days. With the Empire and the Republic still at each other’s throats, lacking but a declaration to call their squabbling an honest war, people were taking the law into their own hands. There was so much to lose and so little to gain on every front.
So much for the Treaty of Coruscant. And so much for avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, he thought, reminded of Fekk and Gelss. Be it red or green, blood was all the same. The less spilled around him, the smaller the chance it would be his, one day.
“What are we going to tell our former bosses when we haul in empty?”
“That’s not my problem,” gloated Shinqo. “On flimsi, you’re still captain of the Auriga Fire. It’s your job to come up with an excuse the Republic will believe. I’ll be long gone before then, with the credits.”
True to form, then, the Rodian was planning to stiff Jet at both ends of the deal. That changed everything. Jet glanced at Clunker, who was standing innocently in front of the entrance to the cockpit. No one would get in past him, if push came to shove. More important, no one would get out …
Barely had the Auriga Fire closed half the distance between the two ships when Jet’s misgivings about the cruiser were violently justified. A scattering of red lights danced across the instrument panels; a buzzer harshly sounded. Jet studied the display for a split second, making absolutely certain of what he was seeing, before raising every shield to full and punching the sublights to maximum.
The Auriga Fire rolled edge-on to the cruiser and Shinqo staggered backward. Clunker caught him, deftly twisting the blaster out of the Rodian’s grasp as he did so. At that moment the star cruiser that should have been their prize exploded, sending a blast of pure white light through every viewport, screen, and shield.
Jet had done more than just back the ship away. He had covered his eyes, and now he peered warily through his fingers at instruments gone completely haywire. There was barely anything left where the Cinzia had been. Thuds and clangs registered on the hull as bits of the star cruiser rocketed by.
Shinqo was barking into his communicator again, quick on the uptake, but not quick enough by half. “Who fired? Who ordered you to fire?”
“No one did,” Jet said. “The ship blew itself up—and if I hadn’t caught the neutrino spike from the drives before they went, we’d have been toasted, too.”
Shinqo rounded on him as though he’d planned this all along. “I should shoot you right here.”
“With what, mate?” Jet nodded at Clunker, who pointed the Rodian’s own blaster into his chest. Jet enjoyed the confusion nakedly displayed on his mate’s green, leathery face. “Let’s start this again, shall we? We work for the Hutts now. I get that. One master’s as good as any other, provided the cut’s the same. But we all get equal shares in that cut, right? Or I tell the crew, who will be spoiling for the fight they just missed. They won’t be happy that you were about to rob some of them. And I tell Clunker here, who badly needs another oil bath, to tighten his grip on that trigger and send you after the crew of that ship, whatever dim part of creation they inhabit now. Get it?”
Acceptance replaced anxiety on Shinqo’s face. His hands came up.
“Here, now, Captain, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.”
“Perhaps you’d like to clarify, then.”
“Sure, sure. You’ll get your share. We all will. I never intended it otherwise.”
“And the Republic?”
“We’ll sort them out—together, like. It wouldn’t be fair to leave it all up to you.”
“I’m relieved to hear that, lad.” Jet nodded at Clunker, who flipped the blaster over and handed it back to its owner. “While I’m captain of this ship, as written on flimsiplast, Barabel hide, or whatever, I expect a certain degree of civility and common purpose. So long as I have that, we’re all going to get along fine.”
He swiveled around to face the instruments, confident that Clunker would stop anything untoward happening behind him. And confident also that the Rodian was smart enough to recognize a compromise when he saw one. Jet didn’t mind who paid him, just like the Hutts didn’t care who handed them their treasure, so long as it was theirs. It all came out in the wash, for those left standing.
“Let’s see what remains of our sorry friend out there …”
The debris field was expanding fast. Sensors tracked the largest chunks, many of which were human-sized or even bigger. That surprised him. A drive blowout usually left only slag and dust.
“That looks like part of the forward section,” said Shinqo, leaning over Jet to point at a screen.
“No life signs.”
“No witnesses,” said the Rodian with satisfaction.
“That’s normally our job,” said Jet, although he had never killed a single person he’d robbed in all his years of pirating—not after he’d robbed them, anyway. Broken a few hearts, sure, and busted a few heads, but nothing worse. “Don’t think they were doing it for us.”
“Why did they do it, then?”
Jet shrugged. “That’s the billion-credit question.”
Shinqo rubbed his chin, making a dry rasping sound with his fingertips. Now that the situation between them was resolved, he had returned to being a proper mate. He had the makings of a good one, when greed didn’t get in the way, otherwise Jet would never have taken him on in the first place. “They had something aboard, something they didn’t want us to get ahold of.”
“Something worth more than their own lives?” Jet turned to meet Shinqo’s slitted eyes. “That sounds pretty valuable to me.”
“Even in pieces, maybe.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Jet indicated the copilot’s seat. “Strap yourself in and take control of the tractor beam. Let’s see what we can find.”
The Auriga Fire came about and began scouring the remains of the ship whose journey they had intercepted. A niggling feeling troubled Jet Nebula as he did so. It felt like guilt, and he told himself not to give in to it. He hadn’t killed the crew of the Cinzia. Th
ey had pulled that trigger all by themselves. It was just hard luck that their path had crossed his, and his good fortune to be breathing afterward. If his fortune continued to hold, he might yet make a profit from this deep-space run, and then, finally, he could hire a slightly more reputable brand of scum and get back into smuggling again.
Some days were better than others. Maybe this was one of them. He told himself that with all the conviction he could muster, which was plenty for a man in his trade.
What could possibly go wrong?
SHIGAR KONSHI FOLLOWED the sound of blasterfire through Coruscant’s old districts. He never stumbled, never slipped, never lost his way, even through lanes that were narrow and crowded with years of detritus that had settled slowly from the levels above. Cables and signs swayed overhead, hanging so low in places that Shigar was forced to duck beneath them. Tall and slender, with one blue chevron on each cheek, the Jedi apprentice moved with grace and surety surprising for his eighteen years.
At the core of his being, however, he seethed. Master Nikil Nobil’s decision had cut no less deeply for being delivered by hologram from the other side of the galaxy.
“The High Council finds Shigar Konshi unready for Jedi trials.”
The decision had shocked him, but Shigar knew better than to speak. The last thing he wanted to do was convey the shame and resentment he felt in front of the Council.
“Tell him why,” said Grand Master Satele Shan, standing at his side with hands folded firmly before her. She was a full head shorter than Shigar but radiated an indomitable sense of self. Even via holoprojector, she made Master Nobil, an immense Thisspiasian with full ceremonial beard, shift uncomfortably on his tail.
“We—that is, the Council—regard your Padawan’s training as incomplete.”
Shigar flushed. “In what way, Master Nobil?”
His Master silenced him with a gentle but irresistible telepathic nudge. “He is close to attaining full mastery,” she assured the Council. “I am certain that it is only a matter of time.”
“A Jedi Knight is a Jedi Knight in all respects,” said the distant Master. “There are no exceptions, even for you.”
Master Satele nodded her acceptance of the decision. Shigar bit his tongue. She said she believed in him, so why did she not overrule the decision? She didn’t have to submit to the Council. If he weren’t her Padawan, would she have spoken up for him then?