{"product_id":"dark-disciple-star-wars-isbn-9781101884959","title":"Dark Disciple: Star Wars","description":"\u003cb\u003eBased on unproduced episodes of \u003ci\u003eStar Wars: The Clone Wars, \u003c\/i\u003ethis thrilling novel features Asajj Ventress, former Sith apprentice turned bounty hunter and one of the great antiheroes in the \u003ci\u003eStar Wars\u003c\/i\u003e galaxy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe only way to bring down the Sith’s most dangerous warrior may be to join forces with the dark side.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the war for control of the galaxy between the armies of the dark side and the Republic, former Jedi Master turned ruthless Sith Lord Count Dooku has grown ever more brutal in his tactics. Despite the powers of the Jedi and the military prowess of their clone army, the sheer number of fatalities is taking a terrible toll. And when Dooku orders the massacre of a flotilla of helpless refugees, the Jedi Council feels it has no choice but to take drastic action: targeting the man responsible for so many war atrocities, Count Dooku himself.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eBut the ever-elusive Dooku is dangerous prey for even the most skilled hunter. So the Council makes the bold decision to bring \u003ci\u003eboth\u003c\/i\u003e sides of the Force’s power to bear—pairing brash Jedi Knight Quinlan Vos with infamous one-time Sith acolyte Asajj Ventress. Though Jedi distrust for the cunning killer who once served at Dooku’s side still runs deep, Ventress’s hatred for her former master runs deeper. She’s more than willing to lend her copious talents as a bounty hunter—and assassin—to Vos’s quest.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eTogether, Ventress and Vos are the best hope for eliminating Dooku—as long as the emerging feelings between them don’t compromise their mission. But Ventress is determined to have her retribution and finally let go of her dark Sith past. Balancing the complicated emotions she feels for Vos with the fury of her warrior’s spirit, she resolves to claim victory on all fronts—a vow that will be mercilessly tested by her deadly enemy . . . and her own doubt.“Reading \u003ci\u003eDark Disciple\u003c\/i\u003e really feels like you’re watching some of the best episodes of \u003ci\u003eThe Clone Wars\u003c\/i\u003e.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEUCantina\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Emotionally charged . . . Christie Golden does a wonderful job of capturing the characters.”\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Roqoo Depot\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A cool inclusion into the \u003ci\u003eStar Wars\u003c\/i\u003e mythos . . . Ventress and Vos have a cool and compelling dynamic, and are used to explore more of what it means to flirt with the Dark Side of the Force.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eIGN\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “[The Clone Wars have been] a huge part of the \u003ci\u003eStar Wars\u003c\/i\u003e brand for years, and [Christie] Golden manages to craft a story worthy of the themes and characters that fans have come to relate to. . . . [She] uses this opportunity to craft \u003ci\u003eDark Disciple\u003c\/i\u003e into a spy\/espionage thriller.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eTech Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Golden especially excelled at bringing Ventress’s biting but appealing personality to life. . . . She’s very much a woman trying to find her way, and \u003ci\u003eDark Disciple\u003c\/i\u003e adds nuance.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNerdist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eS\u003c\/i\u003emart, captivating, and unforgettable . . . among the finest in \u003ci\u003eStar Wars \u003c\/i\u003estorytelling.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eCoffee with Kenobi\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eChristie Golden\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of more than thirty novels, including the \u003ci\u003eStar Wars: Fate of the Jedi\u003c\/i\u003e novels \u003ci\u003eOmen, Allies, \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e Ascension\u003c\/i\u003e. Her media tie-in works include launching the Ravenloft line in 1991 with \u003ci\u003eVampire of the Mists, Fable: Edge of the World,\u003c\/i\u003e more than a dozen \u003ci\u003eStar Trek\u003c\/i\u003e novels, and multiple World of Warcraft and StarCraft novels, including \u003ci\u003eWorld of Warcraft: War Crimes\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eStarCraft II: Devils’ Due\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cb\u003eChapter One\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAshu-­Nyamal, Firstborn of Ashu, child of the planet Mahranee, huddled with her family in the hold of a Republic frigate. Nya and the other refugees of Mahranee braced themselves against the repercussions from the battle raging outside. Sharp, tufted Mahran ears caught the sounds of orders, uttered and answered by clones, the same voice issuing from different throats; keen noses scented faint whiffs of fear from the speakers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe frigate rocked from yet another blast. Some of the pups whimpered, but the adults projected calm. Rakshu cradled Nya’s two younger siblings. Their little ears were flat against their skulls, and they shivered in terror against their mother’s warm, lithe body, but their blue muzzles were tightly closed. No whimpers for them; a proud line, was Ashu. It had given the Mahran many fine warriors and wise statesmen. Nya’s sister Teegu, Secondborn of Ashu, had a gift for soothing any squabble, and Kamu, the youngest, was on his way to becoming a great artist.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOr had been, until the Separatists had blasted Mah­ranee’s capital city to rubble.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Jedi had come, in answer to the distress call, as the Mahran knew they would. But they had come too late. Angry at the Mahranee government’s refusal to cooperate, the Separatists had decided that genocide, or as close a facsimile as possible, would solve the problem of obtaining a world so rich in resources.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNya clenched her fists. If only she had a blaster! She was an excellent shot. If any of the enemy attempted to board the ship, she could be of use to the brave clones now risking their lives to protect the refugees. Better yet, Nya wished she could stab one of the Separatist scum with her stinger, even though it would—­\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnother blast, this one worse. The lights flickered off, replaced almost instantly by the blood-­red hue of the backup lighting. The dark-­gray metal of the bulkheads seemed to close in ominously. Something snapped inside Nya. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had leapt to her feet and bounded across the hold to the rectangular door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nya!” Rakshu’s voice was strained. “We were told to stay here!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNya whirled, her eyes flashing. “I am walking the warrior path, Mother! I can’t just sit here doing nothing. I have to try to help!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You will only be in the . . .” Rakshu’s voice trailed off as Nya held her gaze. Tears slipped silently down Rakshu’s muzzle, glittering in the crimson light. The Mahran were no telepaths, but even so, Nya knew her mother could read her thoughts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can do no harm. We are lost already.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRakshu knew it, too. She nodded, then said, her voice swelling with pride in her eldest, “Stab well.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNya swallowed hard at the blunt blessing. The stinger was the birthright of the Mahran—­and, if used, their death warrant. The venom that would drop a foe in his tracks would also travel to his slayer’s heart. The two enemies always died together. The words were said to one who was not expected to return alive.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good-­bye, Mama,” Nya whispered, too softly for her mother to hear. She slammed a palm against the button and the door opened. Without pausing she raced down the corridor, her path outlined by a strip of emergency lighting; she skidded to a halt when the hallway branched into two separate directions, picked one, and ran headlong into one of the clones.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Whoa, there!” he said, not unkindly. “You’re not supposed to be here, little one.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I will not die huddled in fear!” Nya snapped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re not going to,” the clone said, attempting to be reassuring. “We’ve outrun puddle-­jumpers like these before. Just get back to the holding area and stay out of our way. We’ve got this in hand.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNya smelled the change in his sweat. He was lying. For a moment, she spared compassion for him. What had his life been like when he was a youngling? There had been no one to give him hugs or tell stories, no loving parental hands to soothe childhood’s nightmares. Only brothers, identical in every way, who had been raised as clinically as he.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBrothers, and duty, and death.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFeeling strangely older than the clone, and grateful for her own unique life that was about to end, Nya smiled, shook her head, and darted past him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe did not give chase.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe corridor ended in a door. Nya punched the button. The door slid open onto the cockpit. And she gasped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe had never been in space before, so she was unprepared for the sight the five-­section viewport presented. Bright flashes and streaks of laserfire dueled against an incongruously peaceful-­looking starfield. Nya wasn’t sufficiently knowledgeable to be able to distinguish one ship from another—­except for her own planet’s vessels, looking old and small and desperate as they tried to flee with their precious cargo of families just like her own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA clone and the Jedi general, the squat, reptilian Aleena who had led the mission to rescue Nya’s people, occupied the cockpit’s two chairs. With no warning, another blast rocked the ship. Nya went sprawling into the back of the clone’s chair, causing him to lurch forward. He turned to her, his eyes dark with anger, and snapped, “Get off this—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“General Chubor,” came a smooth voice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNya’s fur lifted. She whirled, snarling silently. Oh, she knew that voice. The Mahran had heard it uttering all sorts of pretty lies and promises that were never intended to be kept. She wondered if there was anyone left in the galaxy who didn’t recognize the silky tones of Count Dooku.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe appeared on a small screen near the top of the main viewport. A satisfied, cruel smirk twisted Dooku’s patrician features.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m surprised you contacted me,” his image continued. “As I recall, Jedi prefer to be regarded as the strong, silent type.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe clone lifted a finger to his lips, but the warning was unnecessary. Nya’s sharp teeth were clenched, her fur bristled, and her entire being was focused on the count’s loathed face, but she knew better than to speak.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGeneral Chubor, sitting beside the clone in the pilot’s chair, so short that his feet did not reach the floor, likewise was not baited. “You’ve got your victory, Dooku.” His slightly nasal, high-­pitched voice was heavy with sorrow. “The planet is yours . . . let us have the people. We have entire families aboard, many of whom are injured. They’re innocents!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDooku chuckled, as if Chubor had said something dreadfully amusing over a nice hot cup of tea. “My dear General Chubor. You should know by now that in a war, there is no such thing as an innocent.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Count, I repeat, our passengers are civilian families,” General Chubor continued with a calmness at which Nya could only marvel. “Half of the refugees are younglings. Permit them, at least, to—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Younglings whose parents, unwisely, chose to ally with the Republic.” Gone was Dooku’s civilized purr. His gaze settled on Nya. She didn’t flinch from his scrutiny, but she couldn’t stifle a soft growl. He looked her up and down, then dismissed her as of no further interest. “I’ve been monitoring your transmissions, General, and I know that this little chat is being sent to the Jedi Council. So let me make one thing perfectly clear.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDooku’s voice was now hard and flat, as cold and pitiless as the ice of Mahranee’s polar caps.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“As long as the Republic resists me, ‘innocents’ will continue to die. Every death in this war lies firmly at the feet of the Jedi. And now . .  . it is time for you and your passengers to join the ranks of the fallen.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne of the largest Mahranee ships bloomed silently into a flower of yellow and red that disintegrated into pieces of rubble.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNya didn’t know she had screamed until she realized her throat was raw. Chubor whirled in his chair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis large-­eyed gaze locked with hers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe last thing Ashu-­Nyamal, Firstborn of Ashu, would ever see was the shattered expression of despair in the Jedi’s eyes.","brand":"Random House Worlds","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302773706981,"sku":"NP9781101884959","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781101884959.jpg?v=1742928993","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/dark-disciple-star-wars-isbn-9781101884959","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}