Star Wars, The Old Republic - Deceived

Chapter 1

Day One

Fatman shivered, her metal groaning, as Zeerid pushed her through Ord Mantell s atmosphere. Friction turned the air to fire, and Zeerid watched the orange glow of the flames through the transparisteel of the freighter s cockpit.

He was gripping the stick too tightly, he realized, and relaxed.

He hated atmosphere entries, always had, the long forty-count when heat, speed, and ionized particles caused a temporary sensor blackout. He never knew what kind of sky he d encounter when he came out of the dark. Back when he d carted Havoc Squadron commandos in a Republic gully jumper, he and his fellow pilots had likened the blackout to diving blind off a seaside cliff.

You always hope to hit deep water, they d say. But sooner or later the tide goes out and you go hard into rock.

Or hard into a blistering crossfire. Didn t matter, really. The effect would be the same.

Coming out of the dark, he said as the flame diminished and the sky opened below.

No one acknowledged the words. He flew Fatman alone, worked alone. The only things he carted anymore were weapons for The Exchange. He had his reasons, but he tried hard not to think too hard about what he was doing.

He leveled the ship off, straightened, and ran a quick sweep of the surrounding sky. The sensors picked up nothing.

Deep water and it feels fine, he said, smiling.

On most planets, the moment he cleared the atmosphere he d have been busy dodging interdiction by the planetary government. But not on Ord Mantell. The planet was a hive of crime syndicates, mercenaries, bounty hunters, smugglers, weapons dealers, and spicerunners.

And those were just the people who ran the place.

Factional wars and assassinations occupied their attention, not governance, and certainly not law enforcement. The upper and lower latitudes of the planet in particular were sparsely settled and almost never patrolled, a literal no-being s-land. Zeerid would have been surprised if

Paul S. Kemp is the author of the New York Times bestselling novel Star Wars: Crosscurrent and Star Wars: Riptide, as well as nine Forgotten Realms fantasy novels and many short stories. When he s not writing, he practices corporate law in Michigan, which has inspired him to write some really believable villains. He digs cigars, single malt scotch, and ales, and tries to hum the theme song to Shaft at least once per day. Paul S. Kemp lives and works in Grosse Pointe, Michigan, with his wife, twin sons, and a couple of cats.