The Force Unleashed (29 page)

still loyal to Vader. After all he did to us-branding me a traitor and trying to

kill you-you're still his . . . his ..." She seemed close to tears.

"His slave."

Juno stared at him with eyes full of hurt. She seemed taken aback for a moment.

"Yes." Her voice took on a hopeful note. "But if that's so . . . why? Why did you

defy your Master to rescue me?"

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His answer was harsh to his own ears. "You were at Callos. It's in your file. You

know what it's like to follow orders to the letter."

She winced. "And?"

"And I needed someone to fly the ship."

"We both know that's not true."

He turned away, and and this time it was she who pulled him back.

"My being here has never been about my piloting."

His throat was so tight he feared he couldn't talk at all. He couldn't meet her

eyes, either. The disappointment in them, the dashed hopes, was all too acute.

And too close to what he felt in his own heart.

She let go and went to leave, but on the threshold she turned back.

"I don't know who-or what-you really are," she said. "Maybe I'll never know. But

sometime soon, you will decide the fate of the rebellion, not your Master. That's

something he can't i.ike away from you. And when you're faced with that moment,

remember that I, too, was forced to leave everything I've ever known.

"Please," she said, "don't make me leave another life behind."

With that she left him full of frustration and self-doubt, staring at the clothes he

had laid out, with his fists clenched and shaking at his sides.

Once, he remembered, he had considered taking steps if Juno came too close to him.

Now it was entirely too late for that. They had feelings for each other that he

couldn't deny-and now she knew the truth about him and his ongoing plot with Darth

Vader. He should kill her immediately to safeguard the plan. There was no question

about that.

But he could not, and in a strange way he trusted her not to tell Kota. That would

mean his death, and he was certain she didn't want that, either.

He had hoped that she would be glad when she learned she might be able to rejoin the

Empire and work for the navy again. It had been naive of him, he now realized, to

assume that she could forget everything that had happened since her capture. She had

been traveling with Kota too long, nursing her own resentments. She had even tried

to talk to him about it once, and he'd brushed her off. If he'd listened, perhaps he

would've known better.

Whether it would have changed anything was another story. Really, he supposed, the

plan was irrelevant. It was his continued involvement with Vader that was the

problem. How could she possibly want someone so intimately entangled with the man

who had imprisoned her without reason for so long?

Still, it was out in the open now, at least between the two of them. He had no

choice but to continue with the plan in order to gain revenge on the Emperor.

Afterward, he would patch things up with her. If they could work together until

then, well and good. That was all they needed to do. But he would hate it if she

though of him the way he thought of Maris Brood: as a conflicted wounded creature

possessing little hope and few prospects.

He slipped into the robe and hood, adopting the garb of a Jed Knight with

resignation and a heavy heart.

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RAXUS PRIME-AGAIN. JUNO FELT as though she were traveling in circles, or perhaps a

spiral leading ever downward. She'd thought her situation complicated enough the

last time, but all she'd had to worry about then was Callos and her father. She'd

barely thought of either since breaking out of an Imperial lockup and beginning her

life on the run. And now Starkiller's betrayal. . .

She caught herself thinking about that and told herself angrily to stop. It wasn't a

betrayal. He hadn't even lied to her. He'd just let her believe that when he talked

about getting revenge on the Emperor, he had meant on Vader as well, and the Empire

as a whole. He had let her believe that all his talk of rebellion was genuine, not a

ruse to further his own ends. And she had believed it, like the good pilot she was

supposed to be. Just a lackey, as she had been under Vader and remained under

Vader's apprentice. She had no one to blame for her naivete but herself.

It wasn't as if she deserved anything else. She had trusted too freely and let him

do all the thinking. She hadn't pressed him hard enough to tell her how he had

survived Vader's betrayal-when it was obvious now that Vader himself had saved him,

solely for this purpose. How had she-an Imperial captain who had once commanded

whole squadrons of pilots, some of them the best in the Empire-been so easily sucked

into the spell of this stranger, this tortured soul? It seemed incredible to her.

She wanted to weep at the thought of how deeply she had betrayed herself. She wasn't

a vassal, a pawn in someone's vast game. She was an individual, a person of talent

and-once-ambition What was she now?

The list of her recent achievements was vanishingly small. Fly here; pick up there;

do this; repair that. She'd had nothing to offer on Felucia except her opinion of

Starkiller, and that had been proven completely unfounded. If blame was being passed

around when the rebellion ended up spitted on Vader's lightsaber, she supposed that

she deserved a chunk of it, too, for not thinking, not trying, not doing any of the

things advocated by the unknowingly lost cause.

If she wasn't spitted herself, alongside all the other traitors . . , Kota couldn't

fail to be aware of her mood. She had been silent ever since her confrontation with

Starkiller, and her concentration was off. She had checked the final jump three

times before seeing a mistake in her calculations that would likely have spelled all

their deaths. She had even snapped at PROXY when he'd offered to fix it for her.

Droid brains didn't have anything like the trouble! she was currently juggling. It

was all numbers and prioritizing task lists and obeying orders, no questions asked.

When she caught herself envying him, she knew she was in a bad way.

"PROXY," she said, "go tell your master we've almost arrived."

The droid shuffled off, and she steeled herself for the worst.

"Engaging the cloak," she said as the view of hyperspace through the forward

viewport unraveled, revealing the murky brown-green of their destination, its

magnetic field-lines as cluttered as ever. "Hello, Raxus Prime, garbage pit of the

galaxy. Nice to see you again."

"Again?" said Kota.

She mentally kicked herself. "I flew a couple of dumping runs here in my previous

incarnation," she improvised. "Before life got interesting."

PROXY returned. "My master says that he will attend you as soon as possible."

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"Good." She exhaled heavily, reminded of how it had felt on i he Empirical every

time her assumed execution was delayed. "Let's take a look around and see what we

can see."

* * *

THE SHIPYARD ROSE UP OVER the planet's filthy horizon like some strange, mechanical

moon. Disk shaped, with complex docks and cranes radiating from its outer edge, it

was by far the largest artificial structure she had ever seen. Over a dozen Star

Destroyers were currently in dry dock: one nearly complete, the others triangular

shells at various stages of manufacture. Giant balls of ore floated near the

station, awaiting refinement. Huge arcing sparks shot from the Star Destroyers as

massive, complicated machines welded panels in place.

There had been no sign of such a facility when she and Starkiller had been there

just months before. Her mind boggled at the speed with which it had been

constructed. She found it hard to believe, and wondered what other surprises they

might find on the planet's surface.

"I know I picked this target," Starkiller said from behind them, "but I have no idea

how I'm going to destroy that thing."

She turned to look at him in his Jedi garb, and anger flared anew. He hadn't chosen

the target; his evil Master had.

But one look at his worried expression reminded her that, for the moment, they were

all in the same boat.

She took a deep breath.

"PROXY and I have been scanning Imperial databases for information," she said. "We

think we have a plan. PROXY?"

Starkiller's gratitude was so obvious that she was glad Kota couldn't see it.

"The Empire is using scrap metal from Raxus Prime to build the Star Destroyers,"

PROXY said, his photoreceptors lighting up. Instead of his usual allover hologram,

he projected a flickering image into the open space amid the cockpit's three chairs.

The image was of a massive linear accelerator they had found during a sweep of the

planet. "Metal collected on the surface is melted down and then fired into space,

using this cannon."

One metal finger traced key features of the cannon through 11 revolving hologram:

power conduits, helium-cooled electron lag nets, induction coils.

"If you can commandeer the ore cannon," Juno said, "you should be able to fire it

directly at the facility itself."

"The impact of the compressed ore should be sufficient to destabilize the entire

shipyard," the droid concluded.

The image he projected changed to one of the massive construction. A rough animation

showed a glowing ball of ore streaking toward the structure, causing it to violently

explode.

PROXY shut off the hologram. "Of course, master, you'll need to reach the cannon

first."

Starkiller nodded. "You'll guide me there?" he asked Juno.

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"Naturally," she said with no expression in her voice at all.

"Okay." He ran his hands across the dark stubble on his scalp, "There are a lot of

holes in this plan, but at least we've got one. Thanks."

His hand very briefly touched Juno's shoulder. She turned and looked at it, and was

struck as she had been when they were first reunited by the lack of scars on his

fingers. Darth Vader had done that to him, she presumed, when he had saved his

apprentice from the wrath of the Emperor.

She shuddered, and the touch retreated.

"Take us down," he said, "if you can do it safely."

"We can run the cloaking device a little longer," she said. "Beyond that point, it

might get a little complicated."

"Don't take any chances. I want to know that you're safe."

"I don't think that's a guarantee anyone can make-now."

She put her hands on the controls and guided the ship through a hurried and bouncy

descent that left conversation impossible. The rattling was music to her ears

compared with Starkiller's confused attempts to appeal to her. Who did he think he

was to tie her in knots like this? One minute he was planning the betrayal of her

and everyone they'd made contact with in recent days; the next he was telling her he

cared for her safety. She wanted to scream.

Keeping her emotions carefully contained, she brought the |hip in low over a

poisonous sea not far from the ore cannon and began searching for space to put down.

"Master," said the droid, "I'm picking up Imperial transmissions from the planet

itself. They appear to originate in the sentient computer core."

"According to the records I've been able to access, the Empire has reprogrammed the

Core to move salvage toward the smelting pits. All the data banks I have accessed so

far suggest that, apart horn this new allegiance, it's harmless."

"Hah," said Kota. "There's no such thing as a harmless computer. That thing probably

knows everything that happens on the surface of the planet."

Starkiller grunted acknowledgment. "PROXY, make contact with it. Maybe you can

intercept some Imperial transmissions. Let me know if it works out who we are and

decides to attack, or to call for reinforcements."

"Of course, master."

"There's no mention of Kazdan Paratus, I suppose," said Kota in a tone of weary

resignation.

Shared guilt flooded Juno. "I'm afraid not," she said. "I'm sorry," said Starkiller

with all appearances of sincerity. The gloomy general waved away his sympathy. Juno

kept her eyes carefully forward.

THE APPRENTICE JUMPED FROM THE Rogue Shadow's ramp with less than his usual vigor.

Raxus Prime's all-pervasive stink hit him like a punch to the nose, and the view

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hadn't improved much, either. The endless layers and canyons of garbage looked much

the same as before, except for new holes and craters where larger metal fragments

had been removed and fed to the ore cannon. The way was treacherous, therefore, and

he kept a close eye on his footing as well as his surroundings.

But his mind inevitably wandered, full as it was with concerns for Juno and his

mission. Only now, with Juno angry at him, was he truly aware of the assumption he

had made without consciously noting it: that he and Juno would have a future