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A New Dawn: Star Wars

Part of Star Wars

Foreword by Dave Filoni
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Ebook
On sale Sep 02, 2014 | 464 Pages | 9780553392876
Discover how Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus, two of the lead characters from Star Wars Rebels, originally met in this thrilling novel set between Episodes III and IV.

“The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning.”—Emperor Palpatine

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 entire 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. . . .
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 morning.
“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?”
© Meredith Miller
John Jackson Miller is the New York Times bestselling author of the Scribe Award–winning Star Wars: Kenobi as well as Star Wars: The Living Force, Star Wars: A New Dawn, Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith, Star Wars: Knight Errant, and the Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic graphic novel collections from Marvel. He has written novels and comics for other franchises, including Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Halo, Iron Man, Mass Effect, Planet of the Apes, and The Simpsons. A comics industry historian, he lives in Wisconsin with his family, assorted wildlife, and far too many comic books. View titles by John Jackson Miller

About

Discover how Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus, two of the lead characters from Star Wars Rebels, originally met in this thrilling novel set between Episodes III and IV.

“The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning.”—Emperor Palpatine

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 entire 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. . . .

Excerpt

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 morning.
“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?”

Author

© Meredith Miller
John Jackson Miller is the New York Times bestselling author of the Scribe Award–winning Star Wars: Kenobi as well as Star Wars: The Living Force, Star Wars: A New Dawn, Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith, Star Wars: Knight Errant, and the Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic graphic novel collections from Marvel. He has written novels and comics for other franchises, including Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Halo, Iron Man, Mass Effect, Planet of the Apes, and The Simpsons. A comics industry historian, he lives in Wisconsin with his family, assorted wildlife, and far too many comic books. View titles by John Jackson Miller