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

female, motioned for him to follow. Silently she led him down a flight of stone steps and into the temple itself. They crossed a landing and descended another set of stairs, then repeated the pattern, working their way level by level down from the temple’s apex to the ground below. There were doors and passages leading off from each landing, and Des could hear snippets of sound and conversation echoing from them, though he could never quite tell what was being said.
    She didn’t speak, and Des knew better than to break the silence himself. Technically, he was still a prisoner. For all he knew, she was leading him to his court-martial. He wasn’t about to make things worse by asking foolish questions.
    When they reached the bottom of the building, she led him to a stone archway with yet another flight of stairs. These were different, however: they were narrow and dark, and wound their way down until they vanished from sight deep in the bowels of the ground. Without a word his guide handed him a torch she had taken from a bracket on the wall and then stepped aside.
    Wondering what was going on, Des made his way carefully down the steep staircase. He couldn’t say how much deeper he went; it was difficult to maintain any perspective in the narrow confines of the stairwell. After several minutes he reached the bottom, only to find a long hallway stretching out before him. At the end of the hallway he encountered a single room.
    The room was dark and filled with shadow. Only a few torches sputtered on the stone wall, their dying flames barely able to pierce the gloom.
    Des paused at the threshold, letting his eyes adjust. He could just make out a dim figure inside. It beckoned to him.
    “Come forward.”
    He felt a chill, though the room was far from cold. The air itself was electric, filled with a power he could actually feel. He was surprised that he didn’t feel afraid. He recognized what he felt as the chill of anticipation.
    As Des moved deeper into the room the features of the shrouded figure became clear, revealing himself to be a Twi’lek. Even under the loose-fitting robe he wore, Des could see he was thick and heavyset. He stood nearly two meters tall, easily the largest Twi’lek Des had ever met ..
    . though not quite as large as Des himself.
    His lekku wound down his broad chest and wrapped back up around his muscular neck and shoulders; his eyes glowed orange beneath his brow, mirroring the flickering torches. He smiled, revealing the sharp, pointed teeth common to his species.
    “I am Lord Kopecz of the Sith,” he said. At that moment, Des knew without a doubt this was the cloaked one who had come to him in the pit, and he gave a slight bow of his head in acknowledgment.
    “I am to be your inquisitor,” Lord Kopecz explained, his voice showing no emotion. “I alone will determine your fate. Rest assured my judgment will be final.”
    Des nodded again.
    The Twi’lek fixed his burning orange eyes on Des. “You are no friend of the Jedi or their Republic.”
    It wasn’t a question, but Des felt compelled to answer anyway. “What have they ever done for me?”
    “Exactly,” Kopecz said with a cruel smile. “I understand you have fought many battles against the Republic forces. Your fellow troopers speak highly of you. The Sith have need of men like you if we are to win this war.” He paused. “You were a model soldier … until you disobeyed a direct order.”
    “The order was a mistake,” Des said. His throat had grown so dry and tight that he had trouble getting the words out.
    “Why did you refuse to attack the outpost during the day? Are you a coward?”
    “A coward wouldn’t have completed the mission,” Des replied sharply, stung by the accusation.
    Kopecz tilted his head to the side and waited.
    “Attacking in the daylight was a tactical mistake,” Des continued, trying to press his point. “Ulabore should have relayed that information back to command, but he was too scared. Ulabore