Free Star Wars: Path of Destruction: A Novel of the Old Republic by Drew Karpyshyn

valley and over the jungle camp where Des and his fellow Sith troopers waited. Beneath the shelter of a cydera tree, Des ran a quick system check on his TC-22 blaster rifle to pass the time. The power pack was fully charged, good for fifty shots. His backup power pack checked out, too. The aim was off just slightly, a common problem with all TC models. They had good range and power, but over time their scopes could lose precise calibration. A quick adjustment brought it back into line.
    His hands moved with a quick confidence born of a thousand repetitions. Over the past twelve months he’d gone through the routine so many times he barely even had to think about it anymore. A pre-battle weapons check wasn’t standard practice in the Sith militia, but it was a habit he’d gotten into-one that had saved his life on several occasions. The Sith army was growing so fast that supply couldn’t keep up with demand. The best equipment was reserved for veterans and officers, while new recruits were forced to make do with whatever was available.
    Now that he was a sergeant he could have requested a better model, but the TC-22 was the first weapon he’d learned to fire and he’d become pretty good with it. Des figured a little routine maintenance was a better option than learning to master the subtle nuances of another weapon.
    His blaster pistol, however, was top of the line. Not all Sith troopers were given pistols: for most soldiers a medium-range, semi-repeating rifle was weapon enough. They’d probably be dead long before they ever got close enough to their enemy to use a pistol. But in the past year Des had proven a dozen times over that he was more than just turret fodder. Soldiers good enough to survive the initial rush and get in tight to the enemy ranks needed a weapon more suited to close-quarters fighting.
    For Des that weapon was the GSI-21D: the finest disruptor pistol manufactured by Galactic Solutions Industries. Optimum range was only twenty meters, but within that distance it was capable of disintegrating armor, flesh, and droid plating with equal efficiency. The 21D was illegal in most Republic-controlled sectors of the galaxy, a testament to its awesome destructive potential. The disruptor’s power pack carried only enough charge for a dozen shots, but when he was eye-to-eye with an opponent it rarely took more than one.
    He slid the pistol into the holster clipped to his belt; checked the vibroblade in his boot, and turned his attention to his troops. All around him the men and women of his unit were following his lead, making similar inspections of their own equipment as they waited for the orders. He couldn’t help but smile; he’d trained them well.
    He’d joined the Sith armies as a way to escape both prison and Apatros itself. But it hadn’t taken him long to actually grow fond of the soldier’s life. There was a camaraderie among the men and women who fought at his side, a bond that quickly extended to include Des himself. He’d never felt any connection to the miners on Apatros and indeed had always considered himself something of a loner. But in the military he’d found his true place. He belonged here with the troops. His troops.
    Senior Trooper Adanar noticed his gaze and responded by thumping a closed fist lightly against his chest twice, just over his heart. It was a gesture known only to members of the unit: a private sign for loyalty and fidelity, a symbol of the bond they all shared.
    Des returned the gesture. He and Adanar had been in the same unit since day one of their military careers. The recruiter had signed them up together and assigned them both to the Gloom Walkers, Lieutenant Ulabore’s unit.
    Adanar picked up his rifle and sauntered over to where his friend was sitting. “You figure we’re going to need that disruptor pistol of yours anytime soon, Sarge?”
    “No harm in being prepared,” Des replied, whipping out the disruptor and giving it a spinning flourish before