Lucasfilm and Del Rey are capping off 2021 with the conclusion to another major Star Wars trilogy. Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Book III - Lesser Evil is the final chapter in author Timothy Zahn's latest sci-fi epic. This book completes Zahn's examination of Thrawn's career in the Chiss Ascendancy before "defecting" to the Empire and becoming one of the galaxy's most feared military leaders.
As with the previous two books in the series, IGN can debut an exclusive excerpt of Lesser Evil ahead of its release. But first, a little background info is in order.
At this point in the series, the Chiss Ascendancy is hurtling toward all-out civil war, and Thrawn himself will have to dig deep into a conspiracy surrounding the Chiss' First Ruling Family. The fallout of his actions here may just give fans new insight into why Thrawn ultimately leaves the Chiss for the Galactic Empire.
This excerpt is taken from one of the recurring "memory" sections in the book, featuring a flashback to a young Thrawn and his friend Thrass before the main events of the novel.
“I’d like to say you’re in trouble,” Thrass commented. “But in all honesty, I can’t.”
Thrawn shrugged as he moved one of his firewolves across the Tactica playing board laid out on the game café table between them. “I appreciate the vote of confidence in my game,” he said. “I’d like to say in turn that you’re playing far better than you did at our last session. Unlike you, however, I can honestly do so.”
“And I appreciate that, as well,” Thrass said, looking pointedly at the two holding zones along the sides of the board. “Though all the compliments in the universe can’t hide the fact I’m still down a firewolf and a whisperbird.”
“But you’re up three stingflies,” Thrawn reminded him. “Not a bad showing for someone who only learned the game eight weeks ago.”
“And I’ll never know how I ever let you talk me into this,” Thrass said, mock-crossly. “A game that plays to all of your strengths and against all of mine? Foolish syndic that I am.”
“Really,” Thrawn said, mock-chiding. “I thought tactics and strategy were basic tools of the trade in the Syndicure.”
“Oh, they’re important enough,” Thrass agreed. He moved his groundlion, tapped one of Thrawn’s stingflies, and took it off the board. “But not as important as verbal skills and basic theatrics.”
“Yes, I’ve seen the Syndicure in action,” Thrawn said drily. “Perhaps in full voice would be a more accurate description.” He moved his nightdragon, tapped the groundlion, and handed it to Thrass. “You’ll want to put this beside the whisperbird,” he added, pointing to Thrass’s holding zone. “They’ll be better able to support each other if you decide on a sortie.”
“Right. Thanks.” Thrass set the groundlion where Thrawn had suggested. He was getting better at the main game, but still had a bad tendency to lose track of the sortie option. “I always forget about that.”
“It’s easy to do,” Thrawn agreed. “But you need to keep it in the back of your mind as a fallback option if and when your main strategy fails.”
“I know the theory,” Thrass said ruefully. “I just usually don’t have it in my head where I can get at it.” He cocked an eyebrow at Thrawn. “By the way, joking aside, I really do enjoy the game, and I appreciate you teaching it to me.”
“Oh, I know,” Thrawn assured him.
“Good,” Thrass said. “I’m never quite sure if you’re picking up the subtexts and nuances beneath what I’m actually saying.”
“Sadly, I do sometimes have problems in that area,” Thrawn admitted. He picked up a cheese triangle from their snack platter and popped it into his mouth, then moved his nightdragon to an attack position against Thrass’s remaining whisperbird. “I suppose that’s why you’re in the Syndicure and I’m in the Expansionary Defense Fleet. We don’t have much need of subtext and theatrics in my profession.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Thrass said, pondering how he could get his whisperbird out of harm’s way. Invoking the onetime transference rule would do nicely, but if he did that he would lose the use of one of his firewolves if and when he tried for a sortie down the line. “Theatrics have their uses in any profession. In moderation, of course.”
“Jaraki?” an anxious voice came from the left, rising above the background murmur of conversation. “Jaraki?”
Thrass turned to look. At one of the tables across the café, a man was slumped over in his chair, his hands clutching at his throat and chest. His two companions had shoved back their own chairs and scrambled to their feet, the man hovering uncertainly over his companion as he punched at the emergency key on his comm, the woman clutching the sick man’s shoulder. “He’s having an attack,” she gasped, her voice rising in volume and pitch, her face contorting with anguish and fear. “He’s having an attack! Someone help! Someone, please!”
“Hang on,” the cashier at the charge register called back. She was already on her way toward them, the café’s emergency kit in hand, dodging through the array of tables and past the other patrons staring at the stricken man.
“I wonder where the other man is,” Thrawn murmured.
Thrass shot him a look. “What?”
“There were four people at that table,” Thrawn said, his forehead creased in thought. “One of the men is missing.”
“Really,” Thrass said, frowning as he looked around the room. There were a few people who were away from their tables, but all of them looked like they’d been on their way for food or bathroom breaks before the sudden drama froze them to their sections of floor. “What did he look—?”
He broke off. There, crouching behind the counter with the top of his head just barely visible, someone was tapping into the charge register.
“It’s a robbery,” Thrass said quietly. “Remember what I just said about theatrics being useful in any profession?”
“A diversion,” Thrawn said, nodding grimly. “And the patrollers aren’t likely to get here in time. I suppose it’s up to us to stop it.” He started to get up.
“No, no,” Thrass said, waving him back down. “I’ve got this. Watch and learn.”
He stood up and headed quietly toward the charge register, angling across the open space as he walked to put himself between the thief and the main exit. He had no idea how long it would take to crack the safety locks on the café’s register and download the payments, but the plan was probably timed to get the group safely out before the emergency medical personnel arrived.
Assuming, of course, that the accomplice who’d looked like he was summoning help had actually done so. If he’d just gone through the motions for show, and to prevent any of the onlookers from doing likewise, the thief would have a lot more time to work with.
The cashier had reached the table now, and she and the other woman were pawing through the contents of the emergency kit. The accomplice, Thrass noted, was deftly refusing all the cashier’s suggestions of inhalants and broad-spectrum med-relief jectors, probably spinning a story of some rare disease and warning against counterproductive medicines. Thrass reached his chosen starting position and took a deep breath.
Then, abandoning his inconspicuous walk, he broke into an all-out run toward the counter. “Pontriss!” he shouted. “Come on, buddy—Jaraki’s in trouble!”
Like magic, every eye in the café turned toward him. “Come on, buddy,” he repeated. “You’ve got the spare jector, right?”
Behind the counter, the thief raised his head a few centimeters, his eyes wide with confusion and growing alarm as he saw Thrass rushing toward him. He opened his mouth as if about to protest, maybe to claim he wasn’t Pontriss and didn’t have any jector.
But it was too late. Everyone was looking at him now, crouched behind the counter where he wasn’t supposed to be. From Thrass’s new vantage point as he ran toward the man, he could see the data siphon plugged into the register. There was a sudden scrambling sound from Thrass’s left.
And as if that was a signal, the thief leapt to his feet and charged toward Thrass, clearly intent on getting past or through him and escaping out the door. Thrass braked to a stop, shifting to a poised stance that would let him move in any direction if the thief tried to dodge around him.
The thief snarled something and snatched out a knife. Thrass took a reflexive step backward, then grabbed a nearby chair and held it in front of him like a shield. Too late, he realized he should have signaled for the patrollers as soon as he and Thrawn realized a robbery was in progress. Too late now.
From behind him came a pair of dull thumps followed by a much louder one. Thrass kept his eyes focused on the man still running toward him—
And then, abruptly, the man faltered and came to a stumbling halt. His eyes flicked over Thrass’s shoulder, then came back to Thrass, a frustrated weariness settling onto his face. With a sigh, he tossed the knife onto a nearby table where another group of wide-eyed gamers was sitting.
“Are you all right?” Thrawn’s voice came.
Thrass risked a look over his shoulder. Thrawn was standing near the exit, his hands raised in combat stance, the man who’d been faking the illness stretched out unconscious on the floor at his feet. The woman and the other man were standing like stunned statues a couple of meters farther back, Thrawn’s quick and efficient neutralization of their friend having apparently convinced them to abandon their own bids for freedom. “I’m fine,” Thrass said, turning back and motioning the fourth member of the gang to move away from his discarded knife. Even with a weapon in hand, he’d apparently decided not to risk it.
But then, like his friends, he’d had a full view of the brief fight. Thrass was starting to regret having missed the show.
He shifted his gaze to the other patrons, most of them just starting to recover from their bewilderment. “Everyone relax—it’s all over,” he called. “Oh, and if one of you fine people would like to call the patrollers?”
Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Book III - Lesser Evil will be released in print, eBook and audiobook formats on Tuesday, November 16. If you want to check out our previous Thrawn Ascendancy excerpts, here's Book I: Chaos Rising and Book II: Greater Good.
For more on Zahn's contributions to the Star Wars mythos, find out how the Expanded Universe kept the franchise alive in a time without new movies.
Jesse is a mild-mannered staff writer for IGN. Allow him to lend a machete to your intellectual thicket by following @jschedeen on Twitter.
Continue reading...
As with the previous two books in the series, IGN can debut an exclusive excerpt of Lesser Evil ahead of its release. But first, a little background info is in order.
At this point in the series, the Chiss Ascendancy is hurtling toward all-out civil war, and Thrawn himself will have to dig deep into a conspiracy surrounding the Chiss' First Ruling Family. The fallout of his actions here may just give fans new insight into why Thrawn ultimately leaves the Chiss for the Galactic Empire.
This excerpt is taken from one of the recurring "memory" sections in the book, featuring a flashback to a young Thrawn and his friend Thrass before the main events of the novel.
Memory IV
“I’d like to say you’re in trouble,” Thrass commented. “But in all honesty, I can’t.”
Thrawn shrugged as he moved one of his firewolves across the Tactica playing board laid out on the game café table between them. “I appreciate the vote of confidence in my game,” he said. “I’d like to say in turn that you’re playing far better than you did at our last session. Unlike you, however, I can honestly do so.”
“And I appreciate that, as well,” Thrass said, looking pointedly at the two holding zones along the sides of the board. “Though all the compliments in the universe can’t hide the fact I’m still down a firewolf and a whisperbird.”
“But you’re up three stingflies,” Thrawn reminded him. “Not a bad showing for someone who only learned the game eight weeks ago.”
“And I’ll never know how I ever let you talk me into this,” Thrass said, mock-crossly. “A game that plays to all of your strengths and against all of mine? Foolish syndic that I am.”
“Really,” Thrawn said, mock-chiding. “I thought tactics and strategy were basic tools of the trade in the Syndicure.”
“Oh, they’re important enough,” Thrass agreed. He moved his groundlion, tapped one of Thrawn’s stingflies, and took it off the board. “But not as important as verbal skills and basic theatrics.”
“Yes, I’ve seen the Syndicure in action,” Thrawn said drily. “Perhaps in full voice would be a more accurate description.” He moved his nightdragon, tapped the groundlion, and handed it to Thrass. “You’ll want to put this beside the whisperbird,” he added, pointing to Thrass’s holding zone. “They’ll be better able to support each other if you decide on a sortie.”
“Right. Thanks.” Thrass set the groundlion where Thrawn had suggested. He was getting better at the main game, but still had a bad tendency to lose track of the sortie option. “I always forget about that.”
“It’s easy to do,” Thrawn agreed. “But you need to keep it in the back of your mind as a fallback option if and when your main strategy fails.”
“I know the theory,” Thrass said ruefully. “I just usually don’t have it in my head where I can get at it.” He cocked an eyebrow at Thrawn. “By the way, joking aside, I really do enjoy the game, and I appreciate you teaching it to me.”
“Oh, I know,” Thrawn assured him.
“Good,” Thrass said. “I’m never quite sure if you’re picking up the subtexts and nuances beneath what I’m actually saying.”
“Sadly, I do sometimes have problems in that area,” Thrawn admitted. He picked up a cheese triangle from their snack platter and popped it into his mouth, then moved his nightdragon to an attack position against Thrass’s remaining whisperbird. “I suppose that’s why you’re in the Syndicure and I’m in the Expansionary Defense Fleet. We don’t have much need of subtext and theatrics in my profession.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Thrass said, pondering how he could get his whisperbird out of harm’s way. Invoking the onetime transference rule would do nicely, but if he did that he would lose the use of one of his firewolves if and when he tried for a sortie down the line. “Theatrics have their uses in any profession. In moderation, of course.”
“Jaraki?” an anxious voice came from the left, rising above the background murmur of conversation. “Jaraki?”
Thrass turned to look. At one of the tables across the café, a man was slumped over in his chair, his hands clutching at his throat and chest. His two companions had shoved back their own chairs and scrambled to their feet, the man hovering uncertainly over his companion as he punched at the emergency key on his comm, the woman clutching the sick man’s shoulder. “He’s having an attack,” she gasped, her voice rising in volume and pitch, her face contorting with anguish and fear. “He’s having an attack! Someone help! Someone, please!”
“Hang on,” the cashier at the charge register called back. She was already on her way toward them, the café’s emergency kit in hand, dodging through the array of tables and past the other patrons staring at the stricken man.
“I wonder where the other man is,” Thrawn murmured.
Thrass shot him a look. “What?”
“There were four people at that table,” Thrawn said, his forehead creased in thought. “One of the men is missing.”
“Really,” Thrass said, frowning as he looked around the room. There were a few people who were away from their tables, but all of them looked like they’d been on their way for food or bathroom breaks before the sudden drama froze them to their sections of floor. “What did he look—?”
He broke off. There, crouching behind the counter with the top of his head just barely visible, someone was tapping into the charge register.
“It’s a robbery,” Thrass said quietly. “Remember what I just said about theatrics being useful in any profession?”
“A diversion,” Thrawn said, nodding grimly. “And the patrollers aren’t likely to get here in time. I suppose it’s up to us to stop it.” He started to get up.
“No, no,” Thrass said, waving him back down. “I’ve got this. Watch and learn.”
He stood up and headed quietly toward the charge register, angling across the open space as he walked to put himself between the thief and the main exit. He had no idea how long it would take to crack the safety locks on the café’s register and download the payments, but the plan was probably timed to get the group safely out before the emergency medical personnel arrived.
Assuming, of course, that the accomplice who’d looked like he was summoning help had actually done so. If he’d just gone through the motions for show, and to prevent any of the onlookers from doing likewise, the thief would have a lot more time to work with.
The cashier had reached the table now, and she and the other woman were pawing through the contents of the emergency kit. The accomplice, Thrass noted, was deftly refusing all the cashier’s suggestions of inhalants and broad-spectrum med-relief jectors, probably spinning a story of some rare disease and warning against counterproductive medicines. Thrass reached his chosen starting position and took a deep breath.
Then, abandoning his inconspicuous walk, he broke into an all-out run toward the counter. “Pontriss!” he shouted. “Come on, buddy—Jaraki’s in trouble!”
Like magic, every eye in the café turned toward him. “Come on, buddy,” he repeated. “You’ve got the spare jector, right?”
Behind the counter, the thief raised his head a few centimeters, his eyes wide with confusion and growing alarm as he saw Thrass rushing toward him. He opened his mouth as if about to protest, maybe to claim he wasn’t Pontriss and didn’t have any jector.
But it was too late. Everyone was looking at him now, crouched behind the counter where he wasn’t supposed to be. From Thrass’s new vantage point as he ran toward the man, he could see the data siphon plugged into the register. There was a sudden scrambling sound from Thrass’s left.
And as if that was a signal, the thief leapt to his feet and charged toward Thrass, clearly intent on getting past or through him and escaping out the door. Thrass braked to a stop, shifting to a poised stance that would let him move in any direction if the thief tried to dodge around him.
The thief snarled something and snatched out a knife. Thrass took a reflexive step backward, then grabbed a nearby chair and held it in front of him like a shield. Too late, he realized he should have signaled for the patrollers as soon as he and Thrawn realized a robbery was in progress. Too late now.
From behind him came a pair of dull thumps followed by a much louder one. Thrass kept his eyes focused on the man still running toward him—
And then, abruptly, the man faltered and came to a stumbling halt. His eyes flicked over Thrass’s shoulder, then came back to Thrass, a frustrated weariness settling onto his face. With a sigh, he tossed the knife onto a nearby table where another group of wide-eyed gamers was sitting.
“Are you all right?” Thrawn’s voice came.
Thrass risked a look over his shoulder. Thrawn was standing near the exit, his hands raised in combat stance, the man who’d been faking the illness stretched out unconscious on the floor at his feet. The woman and the other man were standing like stunned statues a couple of meters farther back, Thrawn’s quick and efficient neutralization of their friend having apparently convinced them to abandon their own bids for freedom. “I’m fine,” Thrass said, turning back and motioning the fourth member of the gang to move away from his discarded knife. Even with a weapon in hand, he’d apparently decided not to risk it.
But then, like his friends, he’d had a full view of the brief fight. Thrass was starting to regret having missed the show.
He shifted his gaze to the other patrons, most of them just starting to recover from their bewilderment. “Everyone relax—it’s all over,” he called. “Oh, and if one of you fine people would like to call the patrollers?”
Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Book III - Lesser Evil will be released in print, eBook and audiobook formats on Tuesday, November 16. If you want to check out our previous Thrawn Ascendancy excerpts, here's Book I: Chaos Rising and Book II: Greater Good.
For more on Zahn's contributions to the Star Wars mythos, find out how the Expanded Universe kept the franchise alive in a time without new movies.
Jesse is a mild-mannered staff writer for IGN. Allow him to lend a machete to your intellectual thicket by following @jschedeen on Twitter.
Continue reading...