Марта Уэллс: From a Certain Point of View

Star Wars: From a Certain Point of View: The Empire Strikes Back is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or ™ where indicated. All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

DEL REY is a registered trademark and the CIRCLE colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

Illustrations on the following pages by Chris Trevas: this page-this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, this page, and this page

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Names: Angleberger, Tom, author. | Chadda, Sarwat, author. | Chakraborty, S. A., author.

Title: Star Wars: from a certain point of view / Tom Angleberger, Sarwat Chadda, S .A. Chakraborty [and others].

Description: New York: Del Rey, [2020]

Identifiers: LCCN 2020029555 (print) | LCCN 2020029556 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593157749 (hardcover; alk. paper) | ISBN 9780593157756 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593159712 (international edition)

Subjects: LCSH: Science fiction, American—21st century. | Star Wars fiction.

Classification: LCC PS648.S3 S626 2020 (print) | LCC PS648.S3 (ebook) | DDC 813/.0876208—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2020029555

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2020029556

Ebook ISBN 9780593157756

randomhousebooks.com

Book design by Elizabeth A. D. Eno, adapted for ebook

Cover art and design: Will Staehle

ep_prh_5.6.0_c0_r0

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Epigraph

Eyes of the Empire by Kiersten White

Hunger by Mark Oshiro

Ion Control by Emily Skrutskie

A Good Kiss by C. B. Lee

She Will Keep Them Warm by Delilah S. Dawson

Heroes of the Rebellion by Amy Ratcliffe

Rogue Two by Gary Whitta

Kendal by Charles Yu

Against All Odds by R. F. Kuang

Beyond Hope by Michael Moreci

The Truest Duty by Christie Golden

A Naturalist on Hoth by Hank Green

The Dragonsnake Saves R2 by Katie Cook

For the Last Time by Beth Revis

Rendezvous Point by Jason Fry

The Final Order by Seth Dickinson

Amara Kel’s Rules for TIE Pilot Survival (Probably) by Django Wexler

The First Lesson by Jim Zub

Disturbance by Mike Chen

This Is No Cave by Catherynne M. Valente

Lord Vader Will See You Now by John Jackson Miller

Vergence by Tracy Deonn

Tooth and Claw by Michael Kogge

STET! by Daniel José Older

Wait for It by Zoraida Córdova

Standard Imperial Procedure by Sarwat Chadda

There Is Always Another by Mackenzi Lee

Fake It Till You Make It by Cavan Scott

But What Does He Eat? by S. A. Chakraborty

Beyond the Clouds by Lilliam Rivera

No Time for Poetry by Austin Walker

Bespin Escape by Martha Wells

Faith in an Old Friend by Brittany N. Williams

Due on Batuu by Rob Hart

Into the Clouds by Karen Strong

The Witness by Adam Christopher

The Man Who Built Cloud City by Alexander Freed

The Backup Backup Plan by Anne Toole

Right-Hand Man by Lydia Kang

The Whills Strike Back by Tom Angleberger

About the Authors

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

EYES OF THE EMPIREKiersten White

“Pick any of the last ten transmissions you’ve looked at. You have to live there for the rest of your life. Where are you?” Lorem said, her voice ringing through the small processing room where they all worked.

Maela admired how Lorem could multitask, sorting through data while keeping up a steady stream of chatter.

Dirjo Harch did not admire it. “Just do your job.” He deleted whatever he was looking at on his screen and pulled up the next data packet. Maela wished they could work individually. Or better yet, in small groups. She’d pick Lorem for her group. And Azier. So really, she’d make a group that was everyone except Dirjo, with his sour expressions and his pinched personality.

“I am doing my job,” Lorem said, chipper as always. Sometimes she wore her cap at a jaunty angle over her dark curls. Just enough to be off dress code, but not enough to give Dirjo an excuse to report her. Maela liked the uniform, liked what it meant. That she was here. That she did it.

A light flashed near Maela’s face and she flipped the switch, accepting an incoming transmission and adding it to the ever-growing queue. She had spent so long with the Vipers, infinite rows of them, round domes and legs like jointed tentacles. She used to stare into their blank black eyes and wonder where they would go. What they would see.

Now she saw everything.

“But while I’m doing my job,” Lorem continued, and Dirjo’s shoulders tensed, “I don’t see why we can’t have some fun. We’re going to be looking through a hundred thousand of these transmissions.”

Azier leaned back, stretching. He rubbed his hands down his pale face, clean-shaven, wrinkled. Maela suspected working on the Swarm transmission recovery and processing unit was a demotion for him, though she didn’t know why. Dirjo and Lorem were just starting their Imperial service, like her.

“Lorem, my young friend,” Azier said in the clipped, polished tones of the Empire, the ones Maela was still trying to master to hide that she came from somewhere else, “the man we report to is serving on the Executor as part of Lord Vader’s Death Squadron. Do you really think fun is a priority for any of them?”

Lorem giggled, and even Maela had to smile. Dirjo, however, scowled, turning his head sharply. “Are you criticizing Lord Vader?”

Azier waved a hand dismissively. “They’re bringing death to those who would threaten the Empire. I lived through a war none of you remember or understand. I have no desire to do it again. And Lorem, to answer your question, I’d rather stay in this floating tin can forever than visit any of the forsaken rocks our probe droids are reporting from.”

“Not a hundred thousand,” Maela said softly.

“What?” Lorem asked, turning around in her chair to give her full attention to Maela.

“Project Swarm sent out a hundred thousand. But some won’t make it to their destinations. Some will crash and be incapable of functioning after. Some might land in environments that make transmission impossible. If I had to guess, I’d say we’ll receive anywhere from sixty-five thousand to eighty thousand transmissions.” Vipers were tough little wonders, and their pods protected them, but still. Space was vast, and there were so many variables.

“In that case,” Lorem said, grinning, “we’ll be done by the end of the day. And then we can decide which planet we’ll live on forever! Though none of my prospects are good. You’re from the Deep Core, aren’t you? Any footage from your planet so we can add it to our potential relocation list?”

Maela turned back to her own work. Her accent attempts hadn’t been as good as she thought, after all. “No footage. We didn’t send droids to Vulpter.”

Azier snorted a laugh.

“Why?” Lorem asked. “Why is that funny?”

Dirjo hit a button harder than necessary. “Half the probe droids we have are made on Vulpter. Back to work.” His tone was brusque, but he looked appraisingly at Maela. “You came from the manufacturing side. I would like to speak about it, sometime.”