Read Star Wars - First Blood Online
Authors: Christie Golden
Star Wars - First Blood
First Blood
by
Christie Golden
Sith apprentice Vestara Khai stood beside her master, Lady Olaris Rhea, in the courtyard of the Sith Temple. Grand Lord Darish Vol was present, along with all the High Lords and Lords of the Sith Circle. There were too many Sith Sabers to include them all, so only a prestigious few had been chosen. Vestara’s father, Saber Gavar Khai, was among that number. She watched him as he stood next to his friend, Ruku Myal, a Saber as fair-haired as Khai was dark, as animated as Khai was solemn. Vestara was the sole apprentice. Oh, the rest of the Sith on Kesh would be watching, of course. Holocams were set up all over the courtyard, and the event would be broadcast live all over the planet.
And when he finally spoke, inside their minds, Vestara was stunned.
For long you have been isolated. Yet a well-established trade route closer than you know will open the galaxy to your conquest. We will find a vessel to take, and use it to repair the crashed warship Omen that stranded you here. And we will strike again and again, until we have a fleet to breed fear throughout galaxy. Five of you will accompany me on this initial voyage. Come.
Murmurs of excitement arose, and then the names were placed in their minds.
High Lord Sarasu Taalon.
No surprise there, Vestara thought. Dark purple head held high, the Keshiri High Lord seemed unable to keep from smirking as he strode up to stand beside the Sith training sphere.
Lord Ivaar Workan.
Again, not unexpected. Both men, the Keshiri and the older human male, were powerful in the Force and, Vestara had heard, ruthless as well. Of course, Ship would choose them.
Lady Olaris Rhea.
Lady Rhea exuded pleasure and confidence in the Force as she absently patted Vestara’s cheek and lithely strode forward to join the two High Lords.
Saber Ruku Myal.
Vestara felt a ripple of surprise in the Force. A Saber? When there were still Lords and High Lords from which to choose? Myal’s chiseled features betrayed little, as did his Force aura. Nonetheless, he had to have been surprised at the choice.
Vestara Khai.
Vestara blinked, confused, thinking that Ship was speaking solely to her for some reason.
What is it, Ship?
A brush of humor.
Come along, apprentice. Do not keep your betters waiting.
Vestara knew she did a poor job of concealing her astonishment and delight as she made her way to stand with a High Lord, two Lords, and a Saber. But in the end, the disapproval coming from the crowd members meant little to her. She was going with Ship, and they were not.
* * *
“Good thoughts, Apprentice Khai?” The voice was masculine and kind. Vestara smiled. If her father couldn’t be here, at least her father’s friend was.
“The best, Saber Myal,” she replied.”! am thinking of how fortunate I am to be here on this historic occasion.”
“Apprentice,” growled Taalon, “you waste your energy and that of others. You should be meditating.”
“No, Taalon. None of us should be,” said Workan. And he was right. Vestara felt the change in Ship, a tension, a readiness. Part of the curving sides that formed Ship’s interior wall became transparent. These five Sith, for the first time, beheld a spaceship other than the
Omen
.
They heard Ship in their minds: T
his vessel is a Damorian s18 light freighter. it has a crew of six. It is en route from Eriadu, a major shipyard. Its cargo will help our cause greatly.
“What do we do?” asked Taalon.
We must damage it so that it is forced to land for repairs,
Ship replied.
Command me.
Taalon, the leader of group, responded immediately. At once, Ship - designed to obey a powerful will - sprang into action. Vestara and the others found themselves making use of the Force to press their bodies flat against the floor of Ship’s interior as the vessel, eager for battle, dove toward his unwitting prey. Weapons appeared out of nowhere - laser cannons manifested from its belly and screamed fire at the freighter, a magnetic accelerator formed at its back to hurl devastating metallic orbs that punched holes in the freighter’s side.
Vestara watched, wide-eyed. She had never seen Ship attack before, and it was a beautiful dance of destruction.
Doesn’t it have any defenses!
She thought to him.
It can carry up to six BDY crew skiffs,
came Ship’s response. T
hey would have launched by now if they were going to.
And as Ship had said it would happen, so it did. The freighter was disabled and unable to make the jump into hyperspace. Instead, it headed for the planet. Elation rippled through the Force, as Taalon directed Ship to follow.
* * *
The planet was pleasant and temperate. Ship had done perhaps too good a job on the vessel; there were gaping holes in its side... and even at a distance, Vestara saw footprints in the soft mud.
“They have fled already,” said Taalon as he and the others stepped out of Ship’s interior. Vestara let the other four precede her, as was proper.
“Of course they have,” said Workan, in a tone of voice that was almost a sneer. “Did you think they would sit around and wait to be caught?”
“Look there,” said Myal, pointing. “Humanoid tracks going off in two separate directions.”
“They will have weapons,” warned Workan.
“So do we,” smiled Lady Rhea, patting the lightsaber clipped to her belt. They had more than that, of course. All of them carried small, handheld blasters and parangs. The parangs, sharp-edged glass tools that, when thrown, returned to the thrower, had originally been designed merely to clear fields. Now, they were useful and deadly weapons. And of course, they all had the ultimate weapon.
The dark side of the Force.
Vestara had been extending herself in the Force as the others had. The fear exuded by the fleeing crew was rich and satisfying, almost overshadowing something-
“Come, Vestara,” Lady Rhea said. “We will go with Lord Workan.”
Vestara opened her mouth to say she thought she had sensed something, but out of the corner of her eye she caught the movement of a small ground-dwelling mammal scurrying out of sight. She was grateful for her hesitation. She was already being scrutinized as the only apprentice on the mission; she didn’t want to make a single misstep. Vestara closed her mouth and nodded, moving to follow as instructed.
“
You
will come with me, Lady Rhea,” Lord Taalon commanded. “Lord Workan will take Saber Myal and
Apprentice
Khai.” The smooth voice brooked no disagreement. Lady Rhea inclined her fair head as if she didn’t care either way.
“Do me proud, Apprentice,” she said to Vestara.
“Yes, Lady Rhea. Of course” Vestara replied.
The hunt was on, and Vestara could feel the excitement building inside her. The terrain - open, grassy plains with patches of brown soil here and there - was far from ideal for concealment. There were clearly marked footprints here, flattened grasses there, and only one place that might offer any shelter - the gentle rise of forested hills.
“We’re fortunate they are not Force users,” said Myal.
“We are even more fortunate that they had no chance to hide their path,” commented Workan. Vestara remained silent - she only spoke when spoken to. Both the High Lord and the Saber were right. The frightened Force auras were like beacons, and the trail was obvious.
“Should we take them alive?” asked Myal. “They might be able to help us repair the freighter.”
“No,” Workan said. “You think too small, Myal. Ship will know how to repair it, if it is not too damaged. If he cannot, we will salvage what we can and return when we have more vessels. It is best to eliminate all witnesses.”
Vestara expected as much. She only hoped that she would be permitted a kill. She knew that Workan and Myal, who outranked her by a considerable amount, would be eager for this sort of kill themselves. It was new for the Sith, to openly attack an enemy. Normally, in her society, murder and assassination were almost... genteel. One’s opponent was eliminated either by oneself or a hired killer. Vendetta killings were honorable, and one bragged by snapping off the recognizable blade of the shikkar. But this - openly chasing a foe, dispatching them like beasts - was new. They were not Sith. They did not deserve any elegance or sophistication in their deaths.
There was movement in one of the trees, and it was not caused by the wind. Workan paused, unfastened his parang, took aim, and let it fly. Emitting its unique whirring sound, the weapon struck home. The leaves of the tree shook slightly, and a body fell. It was short and squat and appeared to be male, wearing what Vestara knew to be a pilot’s outfit, with an overly large head that was - unfortunately for the pilot - cloven in two. The huge black eyes were wide and staring, the folds that encircled his mouth flapping in his death throes. Vestara wrinkled her nose.
“Sullustan, I think,” said Workan. “So ugly.”
Vestara’s danger sense tingled. She opened her mouth to warn her companions, but they had sensed it as well. All three of them drew their lightsabers, batting back the blaster bolts that did nothing other than reveal the shooter’s location to his killers. “You flushed his friend,” said Myal.
“You take this one,” said Workan. Myal inclined his head, drew his blaster, and fired while Vestara and Workan almost effortlessly defended him. This shooter, a human, also dropped, dead before he hit the ground.
Myal sighed, disappointment furrowing his brow. “Too easy,” he murmured. Vestara agreed. Apparently there was more challenge in planning and carrying out the murder of a fellow Sith than there was in killing these beings.
Workan’s comlink chirped. It was Taalon. “We have found the rest, holed up in a cave. I thought you two would wish to see them before we dispatched them.”
You two?
Vestara fought to keep her expression motionless. Workan and Myal exchanged glances. “Indeed,” said Workan. “What do you wish Vestara to do?”
“She will return to the frigate and begin cataloguing its contents,” said Taalon. Vestara felt her cheeks start to burn with embarrassment and used the Force to hide it. Workan clicked the com and looked at Vestara expectantly. She bowed and turned around, breaking into a trot as she returned to the frigate. Ship sensed her unhappiness but she did not respond to his inquiries.
Vestara was used to unquestioning obedience, but this time, the dismissal stung. Taalon had deliberately denied her a chance for a kill and had added insult to injury by assigning her a menial task that had no urgency whatsoever. As she approached the grounded freighter, though, she sensed another presence in the Force - and this time, she was sure it was not an animal.
Vestara drew her lightsaber and activated it with a fierce snap-hiss just as someone stepped out of the hole blown in the freighter’s hull.
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