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In fact, nothing on Ruusan made any sense to him. Nothing! He’d arrived expecting to see the legendary Army of Light he’d heard about in stories and poems: heroic Jedi defending the galaxy against the dark side of the Force. Instead he’d witnessed men, women, and other beings who fought and died like common soldiers, ground into the mud and blood of the battlefield. He’d felt cheated. Betrayed. Everything he’d heard about the Jedi had been a lie. They weren’t shining heroes: their clothes were soiled with grime; their camp stank of sweat and fear. And they were losing! The Jedi whom Darovit
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These people had survived because they were ordinary, plain. They weren’t special like he was. Darovit’s survival was a mystery—just one more thing about all this he didn’t understand.
He was no longer a follower of the Sith; he no longer hungered to learn the secrets of the dark side. But how could this old man, a devoted follower of General Hoth, know that? If he remembered Darovit, he would remember him only as the enemy. For a second he thought about trying to escape. Just turn and run, and the tired old man still catching his breath wouldn’t be able to stop him. It was the kind of thing he’d once done all the time. But things were different now. Whether it was from guilt, maturity, or simply a desire to see it all end, Darovit didn’t run away. Whatever fate awaited him,
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Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. THE CODE OF THE S
He had been many kilometers away from the thought bomb when it detonated, but even at that range he had felt its power reverberating through the Force. The aftereffects lingered, sporadic bursts shooting through his brain like a million tiny knives stabbing at the dark recesses of his mind.
He could have called on the Force to keep the pain at bay, cloaking himself in an aura of healing energy. But that was the way of the Jedi, and Bane was a Dark Lord of the Sith. He walked a different path, one that embraced suffering, drawing strength from the ordeal. He transformed the pain into anger and hate, feeding the flames of the dark side until his physical aspect seemed almost to glow with the fury of a storm it could barely contain.
Zannah was only ten, a waif of a girl with short, curly blond hair. Her clothing was simple and plain to the point of being rustic: a loose-fitting white shirt and faded blue coveralls, both torn and stained from weeks of continuous wear. Anyone who saw her scampering along after Bane’s massive, black-clad form would have been hard-pressed to imagine she was the Sith Master’s chosen apprentice. But looks could be deceiving.
The girl had spirit. That had been clear from the moment of their first meeting. She had recognized Bane instantly for what he was: one of the Sith, sworn enemy of the Jedi, a servant of the dark side. Yet she had shown no fear. In Zannah, Bane had seen the potential for the successor he needed, but she had obviously seen something she wanted in him, too. And when he had offered her the chance to be his apprentice, to study and learn the ways of the dark side, she hadn’t hesitated.
If Zannah was to become the heir to the dark side’s legacy, she had to confront her past. She had to learn how to draw upon her most painful memories. She had to transform and channel them to allow her to wield the power of the dark side.
She had just learned her first lesson in the ways of the Sith. And she was wary of him now—wary, but not afraid. Just as he wanted. The only thing he needed her to be afraid of was failure.
“There are no other Sith. There never will be, except for us. One Master and one apprentice; one to embody the power, the other to crave it.”
Removing his hand from the young man’s brow, the new leader of the Army of Light took Johun by the arm and helped him to his feet. “Your Master made a great sacrifice to save us all,” he said. “If we give in to our emotions now, if we allow ourselves to come to needless harm, then we dishonor what he has done. Do you understand?”
She didn’t smile, but there was an eager expression in her gaze, a hunger her Master knew well. He’d seen the same raw ambition in the eyes of Githany, his former lover and one of Kaan’s doomed followers. He knew that if Zannah did not learn to temper and control her ambition, it would lead her down a path of destruction, just as it had with Githany.
He paused to let the implications of his last statement sink in before continuing. “We cannot live in isolation, cut off from the rest of the galaxy while cowering in fear. We must work to grow our power; we will need to interact with individuals of many species across many worlds. It is inevitable that some among them will recognize us for what we are, no matter our disguise. Eventually word of our existence will reach the ears of the Jedi.”
Why did Qordis bring this manuscript with him to Korriban? Bane wondered. Qordis had always been more concerned with hoarding wealth than studying the ancient texts. He wore only the finest silks and most expensive jewelry; each of the long, cruel fingers on both hands had been adorned with rings of incredible value. Even his tent on Korriban had been decorated with rare woven tapestries and ornate rugs. If he had carried this manuscript with him all the way from the Academy, Bane realized, it must contain knowledge of tremendous value
Her words were indifferent, but Bane recognized her callousness as a defense mechanism. Beneath the surface he could feel her passions burning: She was angry and resentful over their deaths; she blamed the Jedi for what happened, and she would never forgive them. Her rage would always be a part of her, simmering below the surface. It would serve her well in the years to come.
The chamber was close, so close he could make out the words the next time the voices spoke. “The Sith are only two now—one Master and one apprentice,” the deeper one said. “There will be no others.” “What happens if I fail?” the other replied. Sounds like a woman, Darovit thought, too focused on following the voices to pay much attention to the actual words. No, not a woman, he corrected himself a second later. A girl.
The Brotherhood of Darkness was nothing but a twisted reflection of the Jedi Order, a dark parody of the very thing we stood against. Under Kaan the Sith had become an abomination.”
Johun had come to Ruusan to hunt down any members of the Brotherhood who might have survived the thought bomb. He intended to continue the work of General Hoth—his Master and mentor—and eliminate the Lords of the Sith, ending the threat of the dark side forever. Now, however, he recognized a greater mission: He had to save Bordon and his sons from themselves.
It took a moment for his words to register with the girl. When they did, her expression became one of utter shock. “I…I can’t come with you?” The big man shook his head. Spurred on by Zannah’s discovery of the ancient tome in the Sith camp, he’d come up with a plan. He was heading to Dxun, Onderon’s oversized moon, to seek out the lost tomb of Freedon Nadd. But he had other ideas for his apprentice.
“But you said there were always two,” Zannah insisted. “One to embody the power, the other to crave it!” She learned quickly, and Bane was pleased to see she had already committed so many of his lessons to memory. But reciting the words meant nothing if she didn’t understand the truth behind them. “Why do you follow me?” he asked, posing a question to lead her down the path of wisdom. Zannah thought about her answer for several seconds, carefully considering everything he had already taught her. “To unleash my full potential,” she said at last. “To learn the ways of the dark side.”
There was nothing more to say. Bane turned his back on her and headed for his ship. Zannah merely watched him go, not speaking. As he walked away, he could feel her anger building, becoming a raging inferno of hate as he climbed into the cockpit. The heat of her fury brought a grim smile to Bane’s lips as he fired up the engines. The Valcyn took to the air, leaving Zannah behind—a tiny figure on the planet’s surface staring after the ship, standing motionless as if she had been carved from cold, hard stone.
Hope gave new life to her weary limbs, and she managed a clumsy, limping run toward the vessel. She could see people milling about the craft: a young woman, an older man, and two teenage boys. As she drew nearer the woman noticed her and called out to one of her companions.
She’d only accepted their offer of a meal out of politeness. Ever since she had arrived on Ruusan she’d been living on roots and berries, her body constantly on the edges of starvation. She’d been doing it for so long that she’d gotten used to the pangs of a perpetually empty stomach, adapting to the point that she was barely aware of her hunger. But the moment that first bite of real food hit her tongue, she remembered her appetite, and now her body was determined to make up for weeks of poor nutrition.
“Why do you want to go to Onderon?” Irtanna asked once the boys were gone. “It’s a very dangerous world. Not the kind of place for a little girl on her own.” “I won’t be on my own. I…I have family there,” Zannah lied. “I just need to find them.” Bordon rubbed his hand over his chin, tugging slightly at his beard. “It might be pretty hard finding them on a place like Onderon,” he said. “Is there someone else we could contact for you? A family friend on Ruusan, maybe?” “I have to go to Onderon,” Zannah insisted.
Zannah nodded again. There was something comforting about the way Bordon spoke to her. He made her feel safe and important at the same time. She watched him disappear through the door separating the supply hold from the cockpit.
She was tired of struggling. And Bane had abandoned her. Bordon, on the other hand, had offered her his home; he’d offered to let her be part of his family. What would be so wrong about simply accepting his offer?
The boy gave her a shy smile, then turned and left her alone again with her thoughts. Thanks to his words, however, she’d made her decision. Bordon had offered to take her in. He’d offered to make her part of his family. He was tempting her with a simple but happy life. But his words offered nothing except empty promises. Peace is a lie. What good were family or friends if you didn’t have the strength to protect them? Bordon had lost his wife, and Tallo and Wend had lost their mother. When the Sith came they’d been powerless to save the one they most loved.
Bordon and his family were victims—slaves bound by the chains of their own weakness. Zannah refused to be a victim any longer. Bane had promised to teach her the ways of the dark side. He would show her how to unleash the power within and free herself from the shackles of the world. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken!
“No,” the young woman replied calmly, taking a single step toward her. “You won’t shoot me. You’re not a killer.” The memory of the two dead Jedi back on Ruusan flashed through Zannah’s mind, followed quickly by the image of Bordon and his son lying lifeless in the cargo hold.
Zannah’s mind was filled with a great and sudden realization: fear and pain were an inevitable part of existence. And it was far better to inflict them on others than to suffer them herself. “Please don’t shoot,” Wend whimpered, making one last plea for his life. “I’m just a kid. Like you.” “I’m not a kid,” Zannah said as she pulled the trigger. “I’m a Sith.”
The Brotherhood had lost its way. They had fallen from the true path of the dark side. All the study and training Qordis put prospective students through at the Academy was worthless.
He punched at the controls, trying to restart the engine thrusters with one hand while the other still struggled to keep the yoke steady. Getting no response, he closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, digging deep into the burned-out circuits and melted wires of the ship. His mind raced through the labyrinth of electronics that controlled all the Valcyn‘s systems, reassembling and rerouting them to find a configuration that would restore power to the dead ignition switch. His first attempt resulted in a shower of sparks shooting up from the control panel, but his second effort was
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Strong as he was, Bane knew he wouldn’t be able to pull himself to freedom with only one good arm. A Jedi might have been able to use the Force to heal his wounds, but Bane was a student of the dark side. Even if his ability to call upon the Force hadn’t been temporarily exhausted in surviving the crash, healing was not a skill the Sith were familiar with. Before he became a Sith Master, however, Bane had served as a soldier, where he had received basic medical field training.
There was a single entrance to the structure, a door that had once been sealed but looked as if it had been smashed open many centuries earlier by someone seeking the secrets of Nadd’s final resting place. The ghostly figure of Kaan stood by the entrance, beckoning to Bane before disappearing inside.
“There are many good people who fear the Jedi and what they are capable of. They see the Jedi as instigators of war. You claim your actions are guided by the Force, but to those who cannot feel its presence it appears as if your order is not accountable to anyone or anything.”
will speak to the Jedi Council and see that our order complies with your demands, Your Excellency,” Farfalla said, his voice heavy. “And I will send the order to begin the dissolution of the Army of Light as soon as the Senate passes your proposal.” Johun’s draw dropped, but he was too stunned to say anything. “Your cooperation is greatly appreciated, Master Valenthyne,” Valorum replied, rising to his feet. “Now if you will excuse me, I must call the Senate to session.”
THANKS TO THE Holocron he had discovered in Nadd’s tomb, Bane now knew that the strange crustaceans that had attached themselves to him were called orbalisks. He had also discovered, through his own trial and error, that they could not be removed.
Freedon Nadd had been a Jedi who turned to the dark side as the apprentice of Naga Sadow, the former ruler of the ancient Sith Empire. Sadow’s power had been so great, it had allowed him to survive for six centuries, fueled by the energies of the dark side.
There had been very little blood; apart from the first glancing shot to Bordon’s gut, all the wounds had been cauterized by the heat of the blaster bolts. Yet the lack of gore had done nothing to make the bodies’ appearance any less unsettling.
The man took a step toward her, and Zannah instinctively took a step back. There was something very wrong about finding this man waiting for her at the heart of a clearing in the middle of the forest. But she wasn’t worried about the strangeness of the situation. Instead her mind was desperately trying to think of a way to keep him from discovering the bodies in the Star-Wake‘s cargo hold.
“It’s time for you to give up, girlie,” the redhead told her with a cruel grin. He was only a few steps away from her now, his blade held out before him. “You’re all alone.” Zannah smiled back at him. “No, I’m not.” As the words left her lips a dark shadow fell across the two of them. The man had just enough time to look up before he was plucked from the ground by the swooping talons of a drexl far larger than any of the four he had called down earlier. It let loose a scream that shook the ground beneath Zannah’s feet as it arced back up toward the sky. Astride the great beast’s neck sat the
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Bane released his hold on the drexl’s mind and concentrated his awareness on the terror of the other three riders. He drank in their fear, using it to fuel his own emotions. He focused his power and channeled it through the orbalisks, letting them gorge themselves on the dark side. In return they pumped a fresh dose of adrenaline and hormones into his blood, allowing him to generate even more power in a cycle he repeated over and over until the moment before impact.
Darth Bane was alive! And the power that had let him survive this incredible ordeal—the power of the dark side—would one day be hers to command! Overcome with emotion, she stepped forward to embrace her Master…only to recoil when she saw the alien growth protruding from his chest.
No longer was she afraid or uncertain about her future; she finally accepted who and what she truly was. She was the chosen apprentice of Darth Bane. She was the heir to the legacy of the dark side. And she was the future Dark Lord of the Sith.
Involuntarily Johun’s hand dropped to brush against the hilt of his lightsaber. He had constructed it on Ruusan at Hoth’s insistence only weeks before his first Master’s death. He realized the general must have been preparing him for this moment even then. However, building a lightsaber was only one step on the path to Jedi Knighthood. “What about the trials?” Johun asked, trying to contain himself. “I must still pass the final tests of the Council.”
Surrounded by the gentle bouncers and their calming presence, Darovit was finally able to understand what she had done. The Sith at his cousin’s side would have killed him without a second thought. By crippling him, Rain had spared his life; a final act of mercy before she fell under the sway of her new dark side Master. And with understanding came acceptance. Darovit’s hand was gone. Rain was gone. His dreams of joining the Jedi—or the Sith—were gone. All he had left were the bouncers.
“What kind of future is there for me?” he continued, giving voice to the problem he had been struggling with internally. “I failed as a Jedi. I failed as a Sith. What could I hope to become now?”
Zannah stood motionless in a secluded corner of the market square, trying to avoid notice. It wasn’t easy for her to blend in with a crowd; although she was of average height, she was a strikingly attractive young woman.
Over the past decade, the orbalisks that had attached themselves to Bane’s torso had spread until they covered virtually his entire body. Only his feet, hands, and face remained free of the infestation, and only because he took extreme precautions: He wore special gloves and boots at all times, and when he slept he donned a special helmet that resembled a cage, meant to keep the parasites from growing over his face.
