The Rise of the Empire: Star Wars by James Luceno & John Jackson Miller

Author:James Luceno & John Jackson Miller [Luceno, James]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781101965030
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2015-10-06T00:00:00+00:00

THE HORN-HEADED Devaronian miner charged from the disabled personnel transport across the pressurized cavern’s floor.

“You punk kid!” he yelled as Kanan exited Expedient. “What were you trying to prove back there?”

Kanan was still in his early twenties, but he hadn’t answered to “kid” ever. And certainly not when the name came from a dunderhead like Yelkin, whose job it was to drill holes for explosives. Kanan turned and walked alongside his ship, opening up cargo hatches as he went.

The muscular miner stomped after him and grabbed at his shoulder. “I’m talking to you!”

With quick reflexes, Kanan grabbed Yelkin’s hand and spun around, twisting the other man’s arm. Yelkin winced in pain and fell to his knees. Kanan didn’t let go. He spoke in low, calm tones into his captive’s pointed ear. “Your ship was in the way, pal. I have a deadline.”

“We all do,” Yelkin said, struggling. “You saw them shoot that freighter. The Empire’s come to check up—”

“Then go faster. But don’t go stupid.” Kanan released his hold, and Yelkin fell to the ground, gasping. Kanan brushed off his long-sleeved green tunic and turned back to Expedient.

Several miners arrived at Yelkin’s side. “Blasted suicide flier!” one said. “They’re all cracked!”

“Someone needs to show you some manners,” another said to Kanan.

“So I’ve heard.” Unworried, Kanan looked around the landing bay. The loader droids that normally helped hadn’t arrived, evidently unable to make sense out of the impromptu parking situation on the loading floor. It looked like it was going to be another one of those days when he had to do everything.

Kanan unloaded a hovercart and parked it in front of the ship. Then he began the laborious process of hefting down metal crates. Cynda’s lesser gravity made the cases somewhat lighter than they had been on Gorse but no less bulky—or hazardous—to carry. Heaving the first crate, he carried it toward the milling miners.

“You’re in the way,” he said. “For the moment.”

Okadiah appeared on the far side of the spacecraft. “Gentlemen, I think a maxim is in order: Do not aggravate the man who carries high explosives.”

The miners parted, glowering at Kanan as he passed. Rubbing his arm, Yelkin snarled at Okadiah. “You take in some real pieces of work, boss.”

“Like I did all of you, one time or another,” the old man said. He pointed toward the south, and a bank of elevators. “Let’s get the shift started. If the Empire’s inspecting today, Boss Lal will be here, too. At least pretend to work.” He smiled toothily. “And let me add—in honor of that poor sap outside who got himself blown to smithereens—it’ll be happy hour all night tonight at The Asteroid Belt. We’ll even pick you up and drive you home.”

Momentarily assuaged, the miners turned and made for the elevators. Okadiah watched Kanan set a case down on the hovercart. “Still winning friends and influence?”

“Don’t know why I’d do that,” Kanan said.

“Ah, yes. You’re not staying. Like you told me: You never stay.”

“Clothes on my back,” Kanan said as he turned to grab another crate.

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