Into the Void: Star Wars (Dawn of the Jedi) (51 page)

Abruptly the bench lurched beneath him, and the drop ship was away.

Behind his own faceplate LaRone’s smile faded, his thoughts drifting back to that
fateful day ten standard years ago when the Imperial recruiters had come to Copperline
and set up shop. In his mind’s eye he saw
himself joining with the other teens as they flocked around the booth, dazzled by
the presentation, the crisp uniforms, and the unspoken but obvious implication that
this was the best and quickest way off their deadend little world.

Only this time, in his daydream, LaRone said no.

He’d believed in the Empire at first. He really had. He’d been ten when the Fleet
and infantry had come in force and spent five months clearing out the pirate nests
that had plagued Copperline for decades. Eight years later, when the recruiters had
come, he’d jumped at the chance to join such a noble group of people. Three years
after that, when he’d been offered a spot in the elite Imperial stormtrooper corps,
he’d jumped even harder, working and sweating and praying for the chance to be worthy
of this ultimate challenge.

For six years everything had gone well. He’d served with all his heart and strength,
fighting against the forces of evil and chaos that threatened to destroy Emperor Palpatine’s
New Order. And he’d served with distinction, or so at least his commanders had thought.

For LaRone himself, awards and citations meant nothing. He was wearing the white armor,
and he was making a difference. That was what mattered.

But then had come Elriss, where an entire town had had to stand out in the pouring
rain for six hours while their identities were double- and triple-checked. After that
had come Bompreil, and all those terrible civilian casualties as they’d fought to
root out a Rebel cell.

And then had come Alderaan.

LaRone shifted uncomfortably on the bench. The details still weren’t entirely clear,
but the official reports all agreed that the planet had been a center of Rebel strength,
and that it had been destroyed only when it defied an order to surrender the traitors.

LaRone certainly couldn’t fault the motivation. The
Rebels were growing ever stronger, ever bolder, ever more dangerous. They had to be
stopped before they destroyed everything the Emperor had created and dragged the galaxy
back into more of the chaos of the Clone Wars era.

But surely the entire
planet
couldn’t have been on the Rebels’ side. Could it?

And then the quiet rumors had started. Some said that Alderaan hadn’t been a Rebel
base at all, that its destruction had been nothing more than a field test of the Empire’s
new Death Star. Others whispered that Grand Moff Tarkin, the Death Star’s borderline-psychotic
commander, had destroyed all those billions of people over a personal grudge between
him and Bail Organa.

But it almost didn’t matter what the reason was. The bottom line was that the response
had been light-years beyond any provocation the Rebels could possibly have put together.

Something was happening to the Empire that LaRone had served so long and so well.
Something terrible.

And LaRone himself was stuck right in the middle of it.

“Ground in three minutes,” Major Drelfin called from the front of the drop ship. “Stormtroopers,
prepare to deploy.”

LaRone took a deep breath, forcing the doubts away. He was an Imperial stormtrooper,
and he would do his duty. Because that was all that mattered.

The first of the speeder bike drop ships came to a cautious hover a couple of meters
off the ground. As the ramps came down, Korlo Brightwater gunned his Aratech 74-Z
Speeder Bike and roared out into the afternoon sunlight.

“TBR Four-seven-nine, pull it back,” the tart voice of
his commander, Lieutenant Natrom, growled in his ear. “Re-form to Search Pattern Jenth.”

“Four-seven-nine: acknowledged,” Brightwater said, taking a quick look around as he
turned into a wide circle that would bring him back to the rest of the scout troopers
still maneuvering their way out of the transport. They’d come in on a ground-skimming
course just to the north of a set of low, tree-sprinkled hills, with the edge of their
target town a couple of hundred meters away on the far side. Activating his helmet’s
sensors, he gave the hills a quick but careful scan as he circled back toward the
transport. There didn’t seem to be activity anywhere, of any sort, which struck him
as highly suspicious. The hills included a picnic area, several walking paths, and
half a dozen trees that had been patiently nurtured and manipulated over the decades
into an elaborate children’s climbing structure.
Someone
from town ought to be taking his or her leisure out here on such a fine, quiet afternoon.

But there was no one. Something, apparently, was keeping the townspeople indoors today.

Such as the news of an imminent Imperial raid?

Brightwater shook his head in irritation. So the whole thing was a bust. The word
had leaked, and any Rebels who might have been hiding here were halfway to the Outer
Rim by now. “Command; TBR Four-seven-nine,” he called into his comm. “No activity
in staging area. The operation may be blown. Repeat, the operation—”

“Scout troopers, you are cleared to secure the perimeter,” an unfamiliar voice cut
in.

Brightwater frowned. “Command, did you copy?” he asked. “I said the lack of activity—”

“TBR Four-seven-nine, you will restrict your comments to tactical reports,” the new
voice again interrupted. “All transports: move in.”

Brightwater craned his neck. The stormtrooper drop
ships were visible now high above him, dropping toward the ground like hunting avians
moving for the kill.

Only there wasn’t anything down here worth killing anymore.

A movement to his right caught his eye, and he looked back as his partner, Tibren,
came alongside. Brightwater lifted his hand in mute question; the other scout shook
his head in equally silent warning.

Brightwater scowled. But Tibren was right. Whoever this idiot was running things,
he was either too single-minded or too stupid to see reason. Nothing now for the stormtroopers
to do but go along for the ride and treat the whole thing as just another training
exercise. He nodded Tibren an acknowledgment and gunned his speeder toward his designated
containment sector.

By the time they’d finished their encirclement the drop ships were down, their heavy
guns sweeping over the rows of mostly single-story buildings, their hatches disgorging
their complements of stormtroopers and uniformed command officers. Brightwater kept
his speeder moving, watching with professional interest as the troops formed themselves
into a double ring and converged on the town. For a change, everything seemed to be
going perfectly, without even the small glitches that normally accompanied an operation
this size. It really was a pity there weren’t any Rebels left in town to appreciate
it.

The stormtroopers and officers disappeared from view, heading between and into the
buildings, and Brightwater shifted his attention to the area outside the scout troopers’
perimeter. The Rebels had almost certainly fled the planet, but there were occasional
cells with more audacity than brains who elected to stay behind and try to put together
an ambush.

Brightwater rather hoped this bunch had gone that route. It would keep the afternoon
from being a complete
waste, and it would give the stormtroopers the chance to blast them out here in the
open instead of having to sort them out from the civilians.

He had curved to the crest of the nearest hill, his helmet sensors on full power,
when he heard the sound of blasterfire from behind him. He swung his speeder sharply
around, searching the perimeter on the far side of town. But all the scout troopers
over there were still on their speeders, with no indication that anyone was shooting
at them. There was another volley of blasterfire, and this time he realized that it
was coming from inside the town itself.

He brought his speeder to a halt, frowning. The volleys had been replaced by a less
organized stutter, but the shots all carried the distinctive pitch of the storm-troopers’
own BlasTech E-11 rifles. Where was the cacophonous mix of military, sporting, and
self-defense weaponry that was practically the trademark of the Rebel Alliance?

And then, with a sudden chill, he understood.

He revved his speeder back to full speed, twisting its nose down the hills and toward
town. What in the name of the Emperor did they think they were
doing
?

“TBR Four-seven-nine, return to your post,” Lieutenant Natrom’s voice said in his
earphone.

Brightwater flicked out his tongue to the comm’s selector control, switching to the
squad’s private frequency. “Sir, something’s happening in town,” he said urgently.
“Request permission to investigate.”

“Permission denied,” Natrom said. His voice was under rigid control, but Brightwater
could hear the anger beneath it. “Return to your post.”

“Sir—”

“That’s an order, TBR Four-seven-nine,” Natrom said. “It won’t be repeated.”

Brightwater took a deep breath. But he knew Natrom,
and he knew that tone. Whatever was happening, there was nothing either of them could
do about it. “Yes, sir,” he said. Taking another deep breath, trying to calm himself,
he turned his speeder back around.

The sun had set over the western horizon before the blasterfire finally came to an
end.

The destruction of the second Death Star and the death of Emperor Palpatine—the climactic
conclusion of
Return of the Jedi
—has shaken the Empire to its core. While the remnant of the loyal Imperials settles
in for a long, drawn-out last stand, the victorious Rebel Alliance and its supporters
found a galactic governing authority they name the New Republic. Troops and warships
are donated to the cause, as New Republic military leaders forge plans to seize Imperial
fortress worlds, invade the Core Worlds, and retake Coruscant itself. Eventually,
the Imperial Remnant is pushed back to a small part of the Outer Rim, and the New
Republic is finally able to focus on restoring just and democratic government to the
galaxy.

At last the heroes of the Rebellion are free to pursue their own lives. Han and Leia
marry … but before the birth of their twins, Jacen and Jaina, the galaxy is once again
torn asunder by war, as the Imperial forces—under the control of military mastermind
Grand Admiral Thrawn—step up their campaign of raids against the New Republic. Even
after Thrawn is defeated, the Imperial forces forge on, harrying the New Republic
and Luke’s nascent Jedi academy—the start of Luke’s dream to rebuild the Jedi Order
from the ground up. Plagues, insurrections, and rogue warlords add to the chaos and
push the New Republic back a step for every two steps it takes forward in its quest
for peace and prosperity for all. Meanwhile, Leia becomes Chief of State of the New
Republic, and the Solos’ third child, a boy they name Anakin, after his grandfather,
is born; Luke has met Mara Jade, a secret dark side apprentice to the Emperor whom
he helps bring into the
light, and the two subsequently fall in love and marry.

Finally, after a series of further setbacks and plots against the young galactic government
and Luke’s Jedi, a peace treaty formally ends the long conflict between the New Republic
and the remnants of the Empire. The events of these years are the answer to the question … “What
happened after the movies?”

If you’re a reader looking to dive into the New Republic era, here are three great
starting points:

Read on for an excerpt from a
Star Wars
novel set in the New Republic era.

Mander Zuma pursed his lips as he moved through the back alleys of Makem Te. He was
far from the Tract, far from the necropolis that dominated this world, far from the
site of Toro Irana’s death.