Jedi Master Mace Windu travels to a dangerous, remote planet on a mission that challenges even his deadly prowess—all to fulfill Qui-Gon’s last request. The Jedi are reeling from Qui-Gon Jinn’s sudden death at the hands of a Sith. Jedi Master Mace Windu’s feelings about Qui-Gon have always been complicated—and have not been made any simpler by death. While they often disagreed, Mace valued Qui-Gon’s unique perspective, and their shared dedication to the Force made them allies. Without Qui-Gon and his unorthodox views, Mace feels out of balance.  While considering his fallen friend’s legacy, Mace is surprised to receive a final message from Qui-Gon, marked to be delivered to Mace in the event of Qui-Gon’s death. The message contains a last request: a plea to help the Outer Rim planet Metagos. Many years ago, a violent solar flare transformed the surface of the desert planet into a landscape of irradiated glass—as beautiful as it is dangerous. Now most of the surviving inhabitants live underground, where rival clans fight to control the planet’s limited resources. As a young Jedi, Qui-Gon protected the Sa’ad farming clan from the planet’s less-scrupulous factions. The Sa’ad practice the art of dream-weaving, retaining their waking minds upon sleep in order to communicate and coexist with the wild creatures around them. Qui-Gon vowed to return if they ever required his aid, but now it falls to Mace to fulfill that promise. The Sa’ad’s leader, KinShan Nightbird, has begged for the Jedi’s help in freeing Metagos from the crime lords who threaten to eradicate her people’s way of life. Intent on carrying out Qui-Gon’s final wishes, Mace travels to Metagos and infiltrates the enemies of the Sa’ad. But as the Jedi Master investigates the intricate web of adversaries and allies, Mace finds himself pushed to the boundaries of the Jedi code, with his beliefs and his relationship to the Force itself challenged. Steven Barnes is the New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty novels of science fiction, horror, and suspense. The Image, Endeavour, and CableACE Award–winning author also writes for television, including The Twilight Zone, Stargate SG-1, Andromeda, and an Emmy Award–winning episode of The Outer Limits . He has also taught at the University of California, Los Angeles, and Seattle University, and lectured at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C. With his wife, British Fantasy Award–winning author Tananarive Due, he has created online courses in afrofuturism, Black horror, and screenwriting. He was born in Los Angeles, California, and has lived in that area all his life, except for a decade in the Northwest and three years in Atlanta, Georgia. Barnes and Due live with their son, Jason. Chapter One The Stranger Metagos Staff in hand, the stranger arrived in the slums of New Xaxxis, capital city of the planet Metagos. In days past, the underground caverns housing New Xaxxis had been derisively referred to as the Glass Abyss, thanks to the gigantic crystal obelisks towering proudly from the ground like stalagmites or hanging from the ceiling like jagged, broken fangs. The entire city was laid out like a wagon wheel, with roads and canals sectioning it off. The very poorest section, sometimes called the Children’s Maze, was situated at the hub. Swathed in black leather, the stranger was tall, lithe, and human. His face was almost as dark as his ankle-length bantha-hide coat. With his every step along the slum streets, moisture oozed around the edges of his boots, drawn from deep artisanal wells. Gaping volcanic vents in nearby vacant lots jetted steam that drifted upward toward the ceiling, forming into wispy clouds, which personal flight craft, birds, and leather-winged reptiles glided through. Three armed enforcers appeared: one human and two Zilka, much like four-legged, armored bugs. “Here’s an ugly one!” the human cried, laughing. He and one of the Zilka were armed with shock prods. The other bug carried a halberd with a smear of dried blood on the blade. “All you humans are ugly,” the halberd-wielding Zilka said to his human companion. “But this one could give lessons.” They cackled at the mild witticism. The stranger seemed to ignore them, but if they thought he hadn’t noticed, then they’d missed the angry glint in eyes as black as a blaster’s barrel. “Checkpoint, stranger,” the first enforcer—the Zilka carrying the shock prod—said. “Citizen or newcomer?” “Newcomer. Rim-runner. Just landed.” “Are you armed?” he asked. The newcomer nodded and carefully thumbed aside his black cloak, revealing the hilt of a holstered blaster. Under the triple threat of their weapons, they disarmed him of the pistol but ignored his two-meter brown staff, formed from some seamed and knotty wood. “Gotta have the right credentials,” the second said, the human—a big male with outsized hands. Strangler’s hands. “No weapons. You can enter,” the third said, and the second laughed. “H