Star Wars by Greg Rucka

Author:Greg Rucka
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2017-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.

Through Passion I gain Strength.

Through Strength I gain Power.

Through Power I gain Victory.

Through Victory my chains are Broken.

The Force shall free me.

—The Code of the Sith, translated from Qotsisajak

From Collected Poems, Prayers, and Meditations on the Force,

Edited by Kozem Pel, Disciple of the Whills

CHIRRUT COULD FEEL the AT-ST stomping down the Blessing Way.

He counted the steps. Seventeen to reach the intersection with the Square of Stars.

Sixteen. Fifteen.

He moved his walking stick, settled it so it stood between his knees where he sat. He rested his forehead against the cap of the staff, the cold metal of the crystal containment lamp doing little to soothe his headache. He was tired, and he was frustrated, and he thought that either or both would bother him less if Baze’s reassuring presence were somewhere over his shoulder. But Baze was not there, and now that they had allied with Saw Gerrera, it was an absence that Chirrut had come to feel more and more frequently in the last two months.

Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.

Two months since allying with Saw Gerrera’s partisans. Two months since Saw Gerrera had agreed, without the slightest hesitation, to provide Killi and Kaya and the children with anything they needed, anything he could spare.

Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight.

Two months since the start of Saw Gerrera’s campaign against the Empire. Two months since Chirrut and Baze—and it had mostly been Baze thus far—had taught Gerrera’s partisans the back-alley paths of the Holy City. Two months since the Empire had learned that Jedha, while occupied, would not submit willingly, nor quietly, and had responded in kind.

The AT-DPs were gone. They had been lighter, quicker, used by the garrison for patrols and quick response. Now there were AT-STs, a purer manifestation of the Empire’s military might. The AT-ST was a battlefield weapon, and its presence in the Holy City meant that, at least in one thing, Saw Gerrera and the Empire agreed.

The fight for Jedha was on.

Seven. Six.

The first attack had been planned by Gerrera himself, passed along by Fortuna, and executed by a handful of his partisans, plus Baze and Chirrut. But since then it had been Baze more than Chirrut who had found himself in the fight, and whether it was due to a perceived liability in Chirrut’s blindness or something more, Chirrut did not know. He suspected it had less to do with his lack of eyesight than what it was he could perceive. He suspected that he made Saw Gerrera uncomfortable.

Five. Four.

Gerrera had many secrets. Even now, after two months of helping the partisans, neither Baze nor Chirrut had the first idea where outside of the city Gerrera was making his base. When they met with him in person—and that occurred less and less frequently now—it was invariably where they had encountered him the first time, in the shadow of the Three Faces. Whether this was because Gerrera still didn’t entirely trust them with the location of his hideout or for another reason entirely, Chirrut did not know.

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