Product Description

“THAT’S NO MOON.”
–Obi-Wan Kenobi

The Death Star’s name says it all, with bone-chilling accuracy. It is a virtual world unto itself–equipped with uncanny power for a singularly brutal purpose: to obliterate entire planets in the blink of an eye. Its annihilation of the planet Alderaan, at the merciless command of Grand Moff Tarkin, lives in infamy. And its own ultimate destruction, at the hands of Luke Skywalker, is the stuff of legend. But what is the whole story, and who are the players, behind the creation of this world-killing satellite of doom?

The near extermination of the Jedi order cleared the way for Palpatine–power-hungry Senator and Sith Lord–to seize control of the Republic, declare himself Emperor, and usher in a fearsome, totalitarian regime. But even with the dreaded Darth Vader enforcing Palpatine’s sinister will, the threat of rebellion still looms. And the Emperor knows that only abject fear–and the ability to punish dissent with devastating consequences–can ensure his unchallenged control of the galaxy. Enter ambitious and ruthless government official Wilhuff Tarkin, architect of the Emperor’s terrifying dream come true.

From inception to completion, construction of the unprecedented Death Star is awash in the intrigues, hidden agendas, unexpected revelations, and daring gambits of those involved on every level. The brightest minds and boldest egos, the most ambitious and corrupt, the desperate and the devious, all have a stake in the Death Star–and its potential to control the fate of the galaxy.

Soldiers and slaves, loyalists and Rebels, spies and avengers, the innocent and the evil–all their paths and fates will cross and intertwine as the Death Star moves from its maiden voyage to its final showdown. And a shadowy chapter of Star Wars history is stunningly illuminated in a thrilling, unforgettable adventure.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #476973 in Books
• Published on: 2007-10-16
• Released on: 2007-10-16
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 384 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9780345477422
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

From Booklist
Action sf (and Star Wars) veterans join forces to tell the story of the first Death Star from the point of view of its imperial builders. We see Grand Moff Tarkin, when he's not making love to Admiral Dalaa, sweating blood to assemble the materials and manpower necessary for the empire's superweapon. We see a seasoned gunnery officer slightly daunted by the power of the weapon he controls and eventually horrified by the results of its first full-power test on Alderaan. We see a firm friendship emerging between a civilian cantina bouncer and a martial-arts adept who probably is Force sensitive. We see a young architect imprisoned for her political dissidence arguing about the exhaust port that provided the fatal weakness of the Death Star against the Alliance attack. A fighter pilot defends the imperial construction site and ends up piloting a getaway ship for likeminded fellows for whom the empire has finally gone over the line. And Darth Vader kibitzes, believing his study of the Force outweighs any number of Death Stars in potential value. Dedicated SW readers, on the other hand, won't kibitz much, if at all, but revel in this splendid job of jacking up the tip of George Lucas' universe and shoving a well-wrought iceberg under it. Green, Roland

About the Author
Michael Reaves received an Emmy Award for his work on the Batman animated television series. He has worked for DreamWorks, among other studios, and has written fantasy novels and supernatural thrillers. Reaves is The New York Times bestselling author of Star Wars: Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter, as well as the co-writer (with Steve Perry) of the two Star Wars: MedStar novels, Battle Surgeons and Jedi Healer. He lives in the Los Angeles area.

Steve Perry wrote for Batman: The Animated Series during its first Emmy Award—winning season, authored the New York Times bestseller Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire, and wrote the bestselling novelization of the summer blockbuster movie Men in Black. Perry has sold dozens of stories to magazines and anthologies, and has published a considerable number of novels, animated teleplays, nonfiction articles, reviews, and essays. He is currently the science fiction, fantasy, and horror book reviewer for The Oregonian.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
FLIGHT DECK, IMPERIAL-CLASS STAR DESTROYER STEEL TALON, POLAR ORBIT, PLANET DESPAYRE, HORUZ SYSTEM, ATRIVIS SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The alert siren screamed, a piercing wail that couldn't be ignored by any being on board with ears and a pulse. It had one thing to say, and it said it loud and clear:

Scramble!

Lieutenant Commander Villian "Vil" Dance came out of a deep sleep at the blaring alarm, sat up, and leapt from his rack to the expanded metal deck of the Ready Room quarters. Save for the helmet, he already wore his space suit, one of the first things an on-call TIE pilot learned to do was sleep in full battle gear. He ran for the door, half a step ahead of the next pilot to awaken. He grabbed his headgear, darted into the hall and turned to the right, then sprinted for the launching bay.

It could be a drill; there had been plenty of those lately to keep the pilots on their toes. But maybe this time it wasn't. One could always hope.

Vil ran into the assembly area. A-grav on the flight deck was kept at slightly below one g, so that the pilots, all of whom were human or humanoid, could move a little faster and get to their stations a little sooner. The smell of launch lube was acrid in the cold air, and the pulsing lights painted the area in bright, primary flashes. Techs scrambled, getting the TIE fighters to final-set for takeoff, while pilots ran toward the craft. Vil noticed that it was just his squad being scrambled. Must not be a big problem, whatever it was.

Command always said it didn't matter which unit you got. TIE fighters were all the same, down to the last nut and bolt, but even so, every pilot had his or her favorite ship. You weren't supposed to personalize them, of course, but there were ways to tell--a scratch here, a scuff mark there . . . after a while, you got to where you knew which fighter was which. And no matter what Command said, some were better than others--a little faster, a little tighter in the turns, the laser cannons a hair quicker to fire when you touched the stud. Vil happened to know that his assigned ship this rotation was Black-11, one of his favorites. Maybe it was pure superstition, but he breathed just a little easier, knowing that particular craft had his name on it this time around.

The command officer on deck, Captain Rax Exeter, waved Vil over.

"Cap, what's up? Another drill?"

"Negative, Lieutenant. A group of prisoners somehow managed to take over one of the new Lambda-class shuttles. They're trying to get far enough away to make the jump to hyperspace. That isn't going to happen on my watch. The ID codes and tracking will be in your fighter's computer. Don't let 'em get away, son."

"No, sir. What about the crew?" Vil knew the new shuttles carried only a pilot and copilot.

"Assumed dead. These are bad guys doing this, Dance--traitors and murderers. That's reason enough to cook them, but we do not want them getting away to tell anybody what the Empire is doing out here, do we?"

"No, sir!"

"Go, Lieutenant, go!"

Vil nodded, not bothering to salute, then turned and ran. As he did, he put his helmet on and locked it into place. The hiss of air into his face was metallic and cool as the suit's system went online. It felt very comforting. The vac suit's extreme-temp-resistant weave of durasteel and plastoid, along with the polarizing densecris helmet, were the only things that would protect him from hard vacuum. Suit failure could make a strong man lose consciousness in under ten seconds, and die in under a minute. He'd seen it happen.

TIE fighters, in order to save mass, had no defensive shield generators, no hyperdrive capability, and no emergency life-support systems. They were thus fragile, but fast, and that was fine with Vil. He'd rather dodge enemy fire than hope it would bounce off. There was no skill in piloting some lumbering chunk of durasteel; might as well be sitting with your feet up at a turbolaser console back on the ship. Where was the fun in that?

The TIE tech had the hatch up on Black-11 as Vil arrived at the gantry above the ship. It was the work of an instant to clamber down and into the fighter's snug cockpit.

The hatch came down and hissed shut. Vil touched the power-up stud, and the inside of the TIE--named for the twin ion engines that drove it--lit up. He scanned the controls with a quick and experienced eye. All systems were green.

The tech raised his hand in question. Vil waved back. "Go!"

"Copy that, ST-One-One. Prepare for insertion."

Vil felt his lips twitch in annoyance. The Empire was determined to erase all signs of individuality in its pilots, on the absurd theory that nameless, faceless operators were somehow more effective. Thus the classification numbers, the anonymous flight suits and helmets, and the random rotation of spacecraft. The standardizing approach had worked reasonably well in the Clone Wars, but there was one important difference here: neither Vil nor any other TIE pilot that he knew of was a clone. None of the members of Alpha Squad had any intention of being reduced to automata. If that was what the Empire really wanted, let them use droid pilots and see how well that worked.

His musing was interrupted by the small jolt of the cycling rack below the gantry kicking on. Vil's ship began to move toward the launching bay door. He saw the tech slip his own helmet on and lock it down.

Already the bay pumps were working full blast, depressurizing the area. By the time the launch doors were open, the air would be cycled. Vil took a deep breath, readying himself for the heavy hand of g-force that would push him back into the seat when the engines hurled him forward.

Launch Control's voice crackled in his headphones. "Alpha Squad Leader, stand by for launch."

"Copy," Vil said. The launch doors pulled back with tantalizing slowness, the hydraulic thrum of their movement made audible by conduction through the floor and Black-11's frame.

"You are go for launch in five, four, three, two . . . go!"

Outside the confines of the Star Destroyer, the vastness of space enveloped Lieutenant Vil Dance as the ion engines pushed the TIE past the last stray wisps of frozen air and into the infinite dark. He grinned. He always did. He couldn't help it.

Back where I belong . . .

The flat blackness of space surrounded him. Behind him, he knew, the Steel Talon was seemingly shrinking as they pulled away from it. "Down" and to port was the curvature of the prison planet. Though they were in polar orbit, Despayre's axial tilt showed more of the night side than day. The dark hemisphere was mostly unrelieved blackness, with a few lonely lights here and there.

Vil flicked his comm--though it came on automatically at launch, a good pilot always toggled it, just to be sure. "Alpha Squad, pyramid formation on me as soon as you are clear," he said. "Go to tactical channel five, that's tac-fiver, and log in."

Vil switched his own comm channel to five. It was a lower-powered band with a shorter range, but that was the point--you didn't want the enemy overhearing you. And in some cases, it wasn't a good idea for the comm officer monitoring you back on the base ship to be privy to conversations, either. They tended to be a bit more informal than the Empire liked.

There came a chorus of "Copy, Alpha Leader!" from the other eleven pilots in his squad as they switched over to the new channel.

It took only a few seconds for the last fighter to launch, and only a few more for the squad to form behind Vil.

"What's the drill, Vil?" That from Benjo, aka ST-1-2, his second in command and right panelman.

"Alpha Squadron, we have a Lambda-class shuttle captured by prisoners. They are running for hyper. Either they give up and come back, or we dust 'em."

"Lambda-class? That's one of the new ones, right? They have any guns?"

Vil sighed. That was Raar Anyell, a Corellian like Vil himself, but not somebody you'd want to hold up as a prime example of the human species. "Don't you bother to read the boards at all, Anyell?"

"I was just about to do that, sir, when the alarm went off. Was looking right at 'em. Had the latest notices right in my hand. Sir."

The other pilots laughed, and even Vil had to grin. Anyell was a foul-up everywhere except in the cockpit, but he was a good enough pilot that Vil was willing to give him some slice.

His sensor screen pinged, giving him an image of their quarry. He altered course to intercept.

"Anybody else behind on his homework, listen up," he said. "The Lambda-class shuttle is twenty meters long, has a top speed of fourteen hundred g, a Class-One hyperdrive, and can carry twenty troops in full battle gear--probably a couple more convicts in civvies.

"The ship carries three double-blaster cannons and two double-laser cannons. It can't accelerate worth a wheep and it turns slower than a comet, but if you get in its sights, it can blow you to itty-bitty pieces. It would be embarrassing to have to inform your family you got shot apart by a shuttle, so stay alert."

There came another chorus of acknowledgments:

"Copy, sir."

"Yes, sir!"

"No sweat."

"Anyell, I didn't hear your response."

"Oh, sorry, sir, I was taking a little nap. What was the question?"

Before the squad commander could reply, the shuttle suddenly loomed ahead. It was running as silently as possible, with no lights, but as its orbit brought it across the terminator and out of Despayre's night side, the sunlight struck rays from its hull.

"There is our target, four kilometers dead ahead. I want a fast flyby so they can see us, and then I want a fountain pattern dispersal and loop, two klicks ...

Customer Reviews

Somewhat narrowly-focused story of the Death Star
For the thirty years of Star Wars so far, the Death Star has stood as one of the single most iconic elements of the entire story. It burst upon screens in 1977 early in Star Wars, as an rapid camera cut leapt away from Tatooine to this gigantic menacing space station. We knew it was recently completed but little more. What was the conception of such a monstrous project? Who built it and how long did it take? Was the increasingly-insignificant Senate aware of the Emperor's plans for it? Why did someone with the evident powers of Darth Vader appear to bow to the commands of Grand Moff Tarkin? These questions and more have been bandied about in fans' minds for decades, some being touched upon in the Expanded Universe but most never directly addressed.

Adding to the general interest in the Death Star were its two appearances in the prequel trilogy. Attack of the Clones gives us a glimpse of the initial Death Star plans as Count Dooku takes them from Geonosian Archduke Poggle the Lesser for "safekeeping." In Revenge of the Sith, we see the skeletal frame of what appears to be the real Death Star in progress as the newly-armored Darth Vader and his master Darth Sidious gaze upon it contemplatively. This shot raised new questions for me, chief among them being how did it take an apparent eighteen years to get from this skeletal frame to the finished station?

Based on the level of interest and the many questions surrounding the Death Star, the opportunity was ripe for a comprehensive look at the whole project from start to finish, whether in book, cartoon, videogame, or some other form. I had high hopes for Michael Reaves and Steve Perry's novel Death Star to take that opportunity and run with it. However, after having read it, I'll say the opportunity is still there. Death Star is a mixture of high and low points with some clear strengths and weaknesses, but inarguably it does not answer the many outstanding questions out there.

For starters, the book is set in a surprisingly narrow window of time. It only covers the months right before completion of the station and does not attempt to fill in the intervening time. Perhaps Lucasfilm instructed the authors to stick to this timeframe due to a potential conflict-of-interest with the forthcoming Star Wars live-action television series which will cover events in the years between Episodes III and IV. More likely is that Reaves and Perry wanted time in the book to introduce sub-plots and new characters of their own, which didn't leave much room for a story that jumps through decades of Death Star development.

There are a great many new characters and stories to keep up with in this book. Making this rather challenging is the rapid-fire shifting from scene to scene, sometimes more often than once a page. The movies sometimes move at this pace but it's disorienting in a novel. Midway through the novel, I felt unsettled as I kept wanting it to slow down and let me get to know the characters and settings a little better.

A very strong and memorable storyline from this book is that of Tenn Graneet, the Imperial Navy Master Chief Gunnery Officer who ends up being the one to pull the trigger on Alderaan. I'd never given much thought to how that would feel, since the films focus on the leaders giving the orders, but it's well done here. I love how they even work in the odd double "Standing By" at Yavin IV from the film - a nice touch for those of us who have seen the movies MANY times.

It was interesting to see Doctor Divini return from the authors' Clone Wars-era Medstar Duology and follow his continuing storyline. The inclusion of Admiral Daala seemed a bit superfluous - perhaps this was because her scenes with Grand Moff Tarkin were a little on the grotesque side. The authors do a solid job with Tarkin himself and Darth Vader, and I found myself frequently wishing there were more scenes with them. Most of the other characters were adequate but I'm not likely to remember them very long.

Reaves and Perry did a great job of altering my concept of the station itself. I had never pictured recreational areas, shopping and cantinas as being part of the Imperial facility, but now that they've brought that in it makes perfect sense. Military personnel should always have some place to blow off steam and the requisite civilians to help with those services. There were some scenes in the cantina that felt more Love Boat than Star Wars, but I'm glad they didn't set the whole novel in the hangars, conference rooms, and detention areas we see in the films, as that wouldn't have made much sense.

The climax of the novel aligns with the events of Episode IV. Scenes feature dialogue taken verbatim from the movie, although many new events with the new characters are woven around them. This did not bother me at all - the movies are so familiar that I would find it jarring at this point to attempt a restating of their dialogue. There's plenty of excitement despite knowing the fate of the station beforehand and the authors do a great job with presenting the Imperial perspective on the attack by the small groups of Rebel snubfighters.

Death Star is a reasonably entertaining read but I am still hopeful to someday learn more about the history of this icon of the saga.

"That's No Moon, Its a Space Station!"
This exciting book describes the development of the Empire's super weapon, from the initial construction phases to its untimely demise at the hands of the Rebel Alliance.

Grand Moff Tarkin has been placed in charge of overseeing the construction of this new weapon of terror by the Emperor himself. Construction has proceeded fairly well, but there have been several incidents of sabotage which has curtailed the progress. So, in an effort to get things back on track, the Emperor has dispatched Darth Vader to get construction back on schedule. Vader and Tarkin have a somewhat icy relationship; Tarkin has ultimate faith in his new super weapon, while Vader believes that the power of the Force is superior to any weapon.

The Death Star is an awesome weapon. Possessing a super laser the size no one has ever seen before, this menacing metal moon can destroy an entire planet with a single shot.

On board the battle station are several unique and skillful beings, including Atour Riten, chief librarian; Celot Ratua Dil, convicted smuggler, Uli Divini, Imperial surgeon; Memah Roothes, cantina owner; Nova Stihl, Imperial Marines sergeant; Rodo, cantina bouncer; and Teela Kaarz, architect and convict. Officers aboard the Death Star include Conan Antonio Motti, Imperial Navy Admiral; Dalla, Imperial Navy Admiral; Tenn Graneet, Imperial Navy master chief gunnery officer; and Villian Dance, TIE fighter pilot.

Throughout the course of the book, these lives will intersect in a way that will determine the ultimate fate of the battle station. After the prison planet Despayre and the peaceful Alderaan have been destroyed by the Death Star, several aboard her, including Dance, Stihl, Riten, Uli, Memah, Rodo, and Teela have become disenchanted with the Empire. They decide to try to escape and defect to the Rebel side. However, they still have Darth Vader and the other Imperials to deal with. Will these freedom seekers survive, or will Vader stop them first?

I found this to be an exciting book. Everyone who has seen the Star Wars movies knows the final fate of the Death Star, but I really enjoyed reading about the construction phases and the acts of sabotage. I thought the character development was very good, and I felt like I got to really know the characters. It was fun reading the actual lines from the movie, too.

I recommend this book very highly. The story is good and the action is fast-paced. I've read several other Star Wars novels, and I rate this one as one of my favorites. May the Force be with you.

A big bang flashback
As most people who are into Star Wars I was excited at the idea of learning how the Death Star was constructed and the people who built it, but there were too many characters to follow at times. I was constantly trying to remember who ran the bar, who was the architect, the pilot, the martial arts guy, and the libararian, oh and don't forget the bouncer and the escaped prisoner. I gave up on who was dating who.

What I did find interesting and would really like to read more about is Grand Moff Tarkin and his career. This book just wetted my appetite on this character. I agree with some reviewers that the portrayal of Admiral Daala was pretty weak. They tried repeatedily to stress the idea that she didn't sleep her way to Admiral. Personally I kept thinking "thou protest too much."

The last few chapters were intersting with direct quotes from the movie. I like the tie-ins. One thing I feel that they left hanging was the storyline about Darth Vader being interested in the Doctor wanting to know about Midi-Cholirians.

In general a good idea, not one of the best books, but not one of the worst.