A New Dawn Read online

  Star Wars: A New Dawn is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  © 2014 Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM where indicated. All rights reserved.

  Excerpt from Star Wars: Tarkin by James Luceno copyright

  © 2014 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 Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

  DEL REY and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from Star Wars: Tarkin by James Luceno. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  ISBN 978-0-553-39286-9

  eBook ISBN 978-0-553-39287-6

  www.starwars.com

  www.delreybooks.com

  Facebook.com/starwarsbooks

  Jacket design: Scott Biel

  Jacket art: Doug Wheatley

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Phase One: Ignition

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Phase Two: Reaction

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Phase Three: Detonation

  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

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Final Phase: Damage Assessment

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Other Books by This Author

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Excerpt from Star Wars: Tarkin

  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.…

  FOREWORD

  Star Wars is an incredibly creative galaxy, where storytellers have sent Jedi on countless missions, explored numerous planets, and discovered hidden treasures since 1977. I grew up with the original trilogy, and as the years passed by I read the books and comics, I played the games, I saw the re-releases, and I could not believe it when one day I sat in a theater and the screen said EPISODE I. It was a day I had waited for, for a long, long time. I went to all the prequels on opening night, stood in lines like we all did, went to the “Midnight Madness” toy releases. I really enjoyed the community that had grown up around the Star Wars universe.

  Little did I know that before the final prequel film was released, I would move to Northern California and begin work on Star Wars: The Clone Wars, right alongside “the Maker” George Lucas. I felt like I had won some Star Wars lottery, but I also felt a tremendous responsibility to all the people I knew who loved Star Wars: to make sure that I “got it right.” As my own personal Jedi training began, I always had George there to answer the deeper questions, to make certain that we got it right, that we truly made Star Wars the way he wanted it. He used to joke with my crew and me, telling us that he had been teaching us the ways of the Force so that one day when he retired Star Wars could keep on going without him. I’m not sure we ever believed him, until it happened.

  So how do we move forward? And how do we make sure we get it right? Very simply, we trust in the Force, and we trust one another. We came together as a group and found the best talent: people who, like you and me, love Star Wars and want to make it great. Who want to capture the feeling that it gave all of us, that inspired all of us. More than at any other time in its existence, new Star Wars stories are being told every day. More important, the old concept of what is canon and what isn’t is gone, and from this point forward our stories and characters all exist in the same universe; the key creatives who work on the films, television, comic books, video games, and novels are all connected creatively for the first time in the history of the Star Wars universe.

  A New Dawn is a result of this method of story collaboration here at Lucasfilm. As executive producers of Star Wars Rebels, Greg Weisman, Simon Kinberg, and I had input on the story and characters, working with author John Jackson Miller. I even got to make comments on the look of Kanan and Hera for the cover—maybe a small detail to some, but it was exciting to be a part of that process, and to know the characters would remain true to their intended design. I really hope you enjoy this story, and that it enriches your experience and knowledge of the characters in Star Wars Rebels. There are still countless worlds to visit, countless aliens to meet, and with the incredible talent we have coming to work at Lucasfilm the way forward looks clear.

  Last I must thank you. Whether this is your first Star Wars adventure, or one of many over the years: Thank you. Thank you for your dedication to and passion for the Star Wars galaxy. Because of fans like you around the world, the Force will be with us, always.

  Dave Filoni

  Executive Producer and

  Supervising Director, Star Wars Rebels

  For a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights brought peace and order to the Galactic Republic, aided by their connection to the mystical energy field known as the Force. But they were betrayed—and the whole galaxy has paid the price. It is the Age of the Empire.

  Now Emperor Palpatine, once chancellor of the Republic and secretly a Sith follower of the dark side of the Force, has brought his own peace and order to the galaxy. Peace, through brutal repression—and order, through increasing control of his subjects’ lives.

  But even as the Emperor tightens his iron grip, others have begun to question his means and motives. And still others, whose lives were destroyed by Palpatine’s machinations, lay scattered about the galaxy like unexploded bombs, waiting to go off.…

  Years earlier …

  “It’s time for you to go home,” Obi-Wan Kenobi said.

  The Jedi Master looked at the blinking lights on the panel to his right—and then at the students watching him. The aisle between the towering computer banks in the central security station was designed for a few Jedi doing maintenance, not a crowd; but the younglings fit right in, afraid to jostle one another in the presence of their teacher for the m
orning.

  “That’s the meaning of this signal,” the bearded man said, turning again to the interface. Rows of blue lights twinkled in a sea of green indicators. He toggled a switch. “You can’t hear anything now, or see anything. Not here in the Jedi Temple. But away from Coruscant, on planets across the galaxy, those of our Order would get the message: Return home.”

  Sitting on the floor with his classmates in the central security station, young Caleb Dume listened—but not intently. His mind wandered, as it often did when he tried to imagine being out in the field.

  He was lean and wiry now—ruddy skin and blue eyes under a mop of black hair. He was just one of the crowd, not yet apprenticed to a mentor. But one day, he’d be out there, traveling to exotic worlds with his Master. They’d provide peace and order for the citizens of the Galactic Republic, defeating evil wherever he found it.

  Then he saw himself later as a Jedi Knight, fighting alongside the Republic’s clone warriors against the enemy Separatists. Sure, Republic Chancellor Palpatine had promised to resolve the war soon, but no one could be so rude as to end the war before Caleb got his chance.

  And then, finally, he dared hope he would become a Jedi Master like Obi-Wan—accepted while still young as one of the wise sages of the Order. Then he’d really do some great feats. He’d lead the valiant battle against the Sith, the legendary evil counterpart to the Jedi.

  Of course, the Sith hadn’t been seen in a thousand years, and he knew of no shadow of their return. But in his ambitions Caleb was no different from the younglings around him, whatever the gender, whatever the species. The adolescent imagination knew no bounds.

  The sandy-haired Jedi Master touched the panel again. “It’s just in test mode now,” Obi-Wan said. “No one will respond. But were there a true emergency, Jedi could receive the message in several ways.” He glanced down at his listeners. “There is the basic alert signal. And then there are other components, in which you might find more detailed text and holographic messages. No matter the format, the basic purpose should be clear—”

  “Go home!” the collected students shouted.

  Obi-Wan nodded. Then he saw a hand being raised. “The student in the back,” he said, fishing for a name. “Caleb Dume, right?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Obi-Wan smiled. “I’m learning, too.” The students giggled. “You have a question, Caleb?”

  “Yes.” The boy took a breath. “Where?”

  “Where what?”

  The other pupils laughed again, a little louder this time.

  “Where’s home? Where do we go?”

  Obi-Wan smiled. “To Coruscant, of course. Here, to the Jedi Temple. The recall is exactly what it sounds like.”

  The teacher started to turn back to the beacon when he spotted Caleb Dume jabbing his hand in the air again. Caleb wasn’t one to sit in front for every lesson—no one respected a teacher’s pet—but shyness had never been one of his afflictions.

  “Yes, Caleb?”

  “Why—” The boy’s voice cracked, to mild chuckles from his companions. He glared at the others and started again. “Why would you need all the Jedi here at once?”

  “A very good question. Looking at this place, one would think we had all the Jedi we need!” Obi-Wan grinned at the students’ Masters, all standing outside in the more spacious control room, looking in. Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb could see Depa Billaba among them. Tan-skinned and dark-haired, she had shown interest in taking him on as her apprentice—and she studied him now from afar with her usual mostly patient look: What are you on about now, Caleb?

  Caleb had wanted to shrink into the floor, then—when Obi-Wan addressed him directly. “Why don’t you tell me, Caleb: What reasons would you expect would cause us to recall every Jedi in the Order?”

  Caleb’s heart pounded as he realized everyone was watching him. In his daily life, the boy never worried about being hassled for sounding off; the kids he regularly trained with knew he never backed down. But there were students in the gathering he’d never seen before, including older ones—not to mention the Jedi Masters. And Caleb had just blundered into a chance to impress a member of the High Council in front of everyone.

  Or it was a chance to founder on the question, and take their abuse. There were so many possibilities—

  Including a trick question.

  “I know the reasons you’d call them back,” Caleb finally said. “Unexpected reasons!”

  Riotous laughter erupted from the others, all semblance of respectful order disappearing at Caleb’s words. But Obi-Wan raised his hands. “That’s as good an answer as I’ve ever heard,” he said.

  The group settled down, and Obi-Wan continued: “The truth, my young friends, is I simply don’t know. I could tell you of the many times over the course of the history of the Order when Jedi have been called back to Coruscant to deal with one threat or another. Some perilous times, which resulted in great heroics. There are truths, and there are legends touched with truth, and all can teach you something. I am sure Jocasta, our librarian, would help you explore more.” He clasped his hands together. “But no two events were alike—and when the signal is given again, that event will be unique, too. It’s my hope it will never be needed, but knowing about it is part of your training. So the important thing is, when you get the signal …”

  “… go home!” the children said, Caleb included.

  “Very good.” Obi-Wan deactivated the signal and walked through the crowd to the exit. The students stood and filed back out into the control room, appreciating the wider space and chatting about their return to their other lessons. The field trip to this level of the Jedi Temple was over.

  Caleb stood, too, but did not leave the aisle. The Jedi taught their students to look at all sides of things, and the thought occurred to him there was another side to what they’d just been shown. Brow furrowed, he started again to raise his hand. Then he realized he was the only one left. No one was looking, or listening.

  Except Obi-Wan, standing in the doorway. “What is it?” the Master called out over the din. Behind him, the others quieted, freezing in place. “What is it, Caleb?”

  Surprised to have been noticed, Caleb swallowed. He saw Master Billaba frowning a little, no doubt wondering what her impulsive prospect was on about now. It was a good time to shut up. But standing alone in the aisle between the banks of lights, he was committed. “This beacon. It can send any message, right?”

  “Ah,” Obi-Wan said. “No, we wouldn’t use it for regular administrative matters. As Jedi Knights—which I very much hope you will all become—you will receive such instructions individually, using less dramatic forms of—”

  “Can you send people away?”

  A gasp came from the group. Interrupted but not visibly irritated, Obi-Wan stared. “I’m sorry?”

  “Can you send people away?” Caleb asked, pointing at the beacon controls. “It can recall every Jedi at once. Could it warn all of them away?”

  The room behind Obi-Wan buzzed with whispered conversations. Master Billaba stepped into the computer room, apparently wanting to put an end to an awkward moment. “I think that’s enough, Caleb. Excuse us, Master Kenobi. We value your time.”

  Obi-Wan wasn’t looking at her. He was staring back at the beacon, too, now, contemplating. “No, no,” he finally said, gesturing to the crowd without turning. “Please wait.” He scratched the back of his head and turned back to the gathering. “Yes,” he said, quietly. “I suppose it could be used to warn Jedi away.”

  The students fairly rumbled with discussions in reaction.

  Warn Jedi away?

  Jedi didn’t run! Jedi rushed toward danger!

  Jedi stood, Jedi fought!

  The other Masters stepped in, beckoning to Obi-Wan. “Students,” said one elder, “there’s no reason to—”

  “No expected reason,” Obi-Wan said, pointing his index finger to the air. He sought Caleb’s gaze. “Only what our young friend said: unex
pected reasons.”

  A hush fell over the group. Caleb, reluctant to say anything else, let another student ask what he was thinking. “What then? If you send us all away, what then?”

  Obi-Wan thought for a moment before turning toward the students and giving a warm and reassuring smile. “The same as any other time. You will obey the directive—and await the next one.” Raising his arms, he dismissed the assembly. “Thank you for your time.”

  The students filed out of the control room quickly, still talking. Caleb remained, watching Obi-Wan disappear through another doorway. His eyes turned back to the beacon.

  He could sense Master Billaba watching him. He looked back to see her, alone, waiting in the doorway. The frown was gone; her eyes were warm and caring. She gestured for him to follow her. He did.

  “My young strategist has been thinking again,” she said as they stepped into the elevator. “Any other questions?”

  “Await orders.” Caleb gazed at the floor, and then up at her. “What if orders never come? I won’t know what to do.”

  “Maybe you will.”

  “Maybe I won’t.”

  She watched him, thoughtful. “All right, maybe you won’t. But anything is possible,” she said, putting her arm on his shoulder as the door opened. “Perhaps the answer will come to you in another form.”

  Caleb didn’t know what that meant. But then it was Master Billaba’s way to speak in riddles, and, as always, he forgot about them as soon as he stepped out onto the floor where the young Jedi trained. On any given day, room after room would see the mightiest warriors in the galaxy teaching the next generation in lightsaber combat, acrobatics, hand-to-hand fighting—even starship piloting, using simulators. Every discipline imaginable where a kinship with the mystical Force, the energy field all Jedi drew upon for strength, could come in handy.

  And those he saw were just a tiny fraction of the Jedi Order, which had outposts and operatives throughout the known galaxy. True, the Galactic Republic was at war now with the Separatists, but the Jedi had thwarted threats for a thousand generations. How could anyone or anything challenge them?

  Caleb arrived in front of a room where his classmates were already at work, sparring with wooden staffs. One of his regular dueling partners, a red-skinned humanoid boy, met him in the doorway, training weapon in hand. He had also attended the lecture. “Welcome, Young Master Serious,” he said, smirking. “What was all that back there with Master Kenobi?”