“I’m not a Jedi,” Zannah said in a cold whisper.
“That’s right,” he agreed. “You don’t know how to control your power, do you? It only comes out when you’re mad or afraid. Isn’t that right?”
Zannah clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything.
“Listen, little Jedi,” he said, pulling a small blade from his boot and beginning to walk slowly toward her. “There are twelve of us and only one of you. You really think you can take us all on?”
“Maybe,” Zannah said, thrusting out her chin.
“What about them?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the flying beasts as he continued his cautious advance. “One command from any of us and the drexls will rip your pretty little blond head clean off your body. Do you really think your powers will be enough to stop them?”
“No,” Zannah admitted. In the back of her mind she felt something twitch, almost as if someone was calling out to her.
“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 familiar figure of Darth Bane.
The drexl climbed to a height of thirty meters, then released its deadly grip on the redheaded man. His limp body plunged to the ground below, landing with a dull thud and the sharp crack of bones.
The sight of their leader’s mangled corpse dropping from the sky spurred the rest of the clan into action. With whooping cries and shrill whistles, they raced to their mounts to take the battle to the air, all thoughts of the little girl on the ground forgotten.
The first drexl off the ground had only two riders. The woman in front handled the reins, focusing all her attention and energy on the difficult task of steering and controlling the mount. The man seated behind her served as her eyes and strategist, shouting out instructions she followed without question—when to climb, when to dive, when to bank, and when to strike. The empty seat behind them was no doubt where the redheaded man would have sat had he not been killed.
The remaining drexls each carried a full complement of three riders—one to work the reins, one to give the orders, and one armed with a large blaster rifle. The bolts would have little effect against a drexl’s thick hide, but a well-placed shot could bring down an enemy rider from long range. However, the offensive advantage of the third rider was offset by the extra weight that made the mount slower and less maneuverable.
With only two passengers, the first drexl was able to quickly outdistance the others. It climbed into the clear blue sky where Bane and his new pet circled defiantly, issuing a challenge that could not be ignored.
As this first opponent drew near, the Dark Lord’s flier screamed its war cry and veered to intercept it. From the ground Zannah watched as the two reptavians clashed, the beasts seeming to throw themselves at each other in midair. Grappling together, they plunged planetward in a short but savage confrontation. The two great bodies twisted and writhed against each other, buffeted by wings and slashed by claws that glinted in the sun. Tails lashed out, attempting to blind the enemy flier or dislodge a rider. Jaws bit and snapped as the drexls’ oversized heads danced and weaved atop the serpentine necks.
The beast-riders had counted on their skill and experience in aerial combat to carry them to victory against a lone rider overwhelmed by the struggle to control a flier by himself. They didn’t realize that the Force gave Bane complete and total command of the creature. Without this advantage, their defeat was never in doubt. Bane’s mount was larger and stronger, it carried the weight of a single rider, and it had no reins, bridle, or saddle to encumber its movements.
Less than twenty meters above the ground, Bane’s drexl twisted, ducked, and tore out the throat of its enemy. Ten meters above the ground it disengaged from its foe, pulled out of the deadly free fall, and soared victoriously upward. The other drexl, mortally wounded, crashed to the dirt, a landing that killed the mount and both riders instantly.
The entire sequence had taken less than ten seconds, yet it had allowed the other Skelda clan flier teams to get high above their quarry, giving them a tactical advantage. With powerful flaps of its mighty wings, Bane’s mount rose up to meet them. They responded with a barrage of blasterfire aimed at the mysterious lone rider, only to see the Sith Master ignite his lightsaber and deflect the incoming bolts.
One of the enemy fliers swooped in toward him, a feint meant to draw Bane’s attention from the other two. The beast dived past him, a few meters too distant to actually engage in combat, then banked away sharply as the rider yanked hard on the reins. As they flew by, Bane reached out with the Force and ripped away the harness securing the saddle to the drexl’s back. There was a trio of startled and then terrified screams as the saddle broke free and the riders plummeted hundreds of meters to the ground below. The mount, oblivious to their plight, continued to circle upward in preparation for another dive.
Bane didn’t take the time to revel in the fear of his fallen enemies. Before they even hit the ground he’d turned his attention to the third opponent, unleashing a storm of Sith lightning that reduced the riders to ash and the drexl into a hunk of charred and smoking flesh that dropped from the sky.
With a single thought Bane directed his mount’s attention to the lone remaining flier team … a tactical error on his part. For even though its riders had been slain, the second drexl was still alive. Acting on primal instinct, it had veered back to attack the unfamiliar male invading its territory.
The riderless drexl slammed into Bane’s flier the exact instant he engaged the final team. The three beasts intertwined with one another, becoming a single, screaming mass of flesh, claws, and teeth hurtling toward the ground below. A spray of hot, foamy blood splashed across Bane’s face as the creatures ripped one another apart. For a brief instant he glimpsed one of the other riders through the flailing wings and limbs of their mounts, her features frozen as she realized they were all tumbling toward a gruesome and inescapable end.
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.
Zannah saw the last three flying creatures lock onto one another. As they dropped from the sky, spiraling down faster and faster, she watched them, waiting for one to break free and mount back up to the heavens. None ever did.
She screamed in horror as they all slammed into the ground together. The sound of the crash was like an explosion; the shock wave knocked Zannah off her feet and launched a great cloud of dust and debris into the air. The cloud rolled quickly over the ground to envelop her.
The would-be Sith apprentice struggled to rise, coughing and choking as small chunks of dirt and stone rained down on her. Through the haze she stared in wonder at the twenty-meter-wide, two-meter-deep crater left behind. In the center was a gore-covered mountain of pulverized flesh: the individual bodies of mounts and riders compacted into a single pulpy, quivering mass. And walking toward her from the carnage was the blood-soaked form of her Master.
He was limping and hunched over, with one arm clutched at his side. Yet even through the obscuring dust Zannah recognized him immediately. She could only stare in utter disbelief as he drew nearer, his gait becoming more
sure and steady with every stride. With each step he stood taller and straighter, and when he let his arm fall away from his side, her heart began to pound with excitement.
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.
“They are called orbalisks,” Bane said, offering an explanation rather than a greeting. “Creatures that feed on the power of the dark side. Without them I could never have survived what you just witnessed.” He gasped faintly as he spoke, though whether from pain or the recent exertion of using the Force—or possibly both—she couldn’t tell.
He stopped in front of her, and Zannah reached out slowly to touch the cold, hard shell. She pulled her hand back with a start when she felt it twitch beneath her fingers.
“They feel the power of the dark side within you,” Bane said, speaking like a proud father.
“How do you get them off?” Zannah asked, her question an equal measure of curiosity and revulsion.
“I don’t,” Bane replied. “This armor is permanent.”
“Will I have to wear them, too?” she asked softly.
Bane considered before replying. “The orbalisks give me great power, but there is a cost. The physical demands can be … taxing. It would be too much for you to bear as a child. Maybe too much for you to ever bear.”
Relieved, Zannah only nodded. Her Master seemed to be almost fully recovered now, though his face and armor were still drenched in blood.
She noticed him looking past her at the Star-Wake on the far edge of the clearing.
“I stole a ship,” she told him. “I … I had to kill the crew.”
“You did what was necessary to achieve your goal,” Bane said. “You showed the power and the strength of will to destroy those who stood in your way. You saw what you wanted and you took it, no matter what the cost.
“You acted like a Sith.”
The young girl felt a surge of pride well up within her. “What happens now, Master?”
“Now your real training will begin,” Bane said, marching off toward the Star-Wake.
She quickly fell into step behind him. The doubts and fears she had experienced during her time alone on the ship were gone, swept away by the words of her Master and the display of raw power she had witnessed. 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.
“You sent for me, Master Valenthyne?” Johun said as he entered Farfalla’s private quarters.
It was three days after the Senate had passed the Ruusan Reformations, and they were still on Coruscant. Johun was eager to leave the city-world behind them, but after his shameful outburst in Chancellor Valorum’s chambers, he was determined to show that he could control his emotions and that he trusted in the wisdom of his Master. As long as Farfalla felt they were needed here, he would serve without further complaint.
“Sit down, Johun,” the Jedi Master said softly, pointing to a nearby chair. From his tone it was clear he had bad news to deliver.
Johun did as he was instructed, dreading what was to come.
“We’ve located the Star-Wake.”
For a brief instant Johun’s heart leapt. Sometime after he had left Irtanna and her crew, their ship had gone missing. Search parties had been sent out but had come back with nothing. Now, nearly two weeks after she disappeared, she had been found!
Then Johun’s elation vanished when he realized that his Master had specifically said the ship had been located; he’d made no mention of those aboard.
“What happened?” Johun asked, almost too afraid to get the words out.
“We think it may have been mercenaries,” Farfalla explained. “The ship was discovered floating in the Japrael sector, abandoned. Everything of value had been taken. Everyone aboard was dead, shot with a blaster at close range.”
“Everyone? Irtanna? Bordon? Even his sons?”
Farfalla could only answer with a solemn nod.
There is no emotion, Johun thought, reciting the Jedi Code as he fought to control the sudden burst of anger that flared at their senseless deaths. There is only peace.
“I know this is difficult for you to accept,” Farfalla said, taking a seat across from Johun so he could face him. “But there is nothing we can do for them now. And whatever happens, you must not take it upon yourself to try to avenge their deaths.”
“I understand, Master,” Johun said, choking back tears. “Yet I cannot stop myself from grieving for their loss.”
“Nor should you, my young Padawan,” Farfalla said, giving him a reassuring pat on the knee before rising to stand. “It is only natural that you feel sorrow over what has happened. Grief alone holds no danger.”
Farfalla stepped away to the far side of the room and studied a painting on the wall, giving the young man some privacy and allowing him time to collect himself. When Johun stood a few minutes later, his Master turned to face him again.
“This news sits heavy upon my heart, Master Valenthyne,” the young man offered. “But I understand that it is not my place to seek out their killers. And I am grateful you brought me here to tell me.”
“That is not the only reason I sent for you,” Farfalla admitted. “I have a mission for you.”
“Tell me, Master. I am ready to serve.” Johun thought that truer words had never been spoken. He was desperate for something, anything, to take his mind off thoughts of Irtanna and her crew.
“The Senate has passed the Ruusan Reformations. You already know what this means to our order, but there are many other aspects to this legislation. As Chancellor Valorum has said, the Republic must be reborn.”
Johun nodded to show he understood.
“There will be many people across the galaxy who are opposed to this new legislation,” Farfalla continued. “Some see Valorum’s efforts to reunite the Republic as an attempt to reestablish Senate control over worlds that have declared their independence … or worlds that were just about to.”
“You fear for the Chancellor’s life,” Johun guessed.
“Precisely. And I also feel it is important for the Jedi to show our support for the Chancellor and the Ruusan Reformations. We must take a leading role in protecting him from those who would do him harm.”
Johun struggled to keep his emotions under control. Farfalla had said he had a special mission for him. Maybe he was sending him to the Outer Rim Territories to infiltrate a radical separatist movement, or deploying him to the front lines of a battle against some dangerous rebel faction!
“I have chosen you to serve as the Jedi representative among Chancellor Valorum’s personal guard,” Farfalla continued, and Johun felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
The last thing he wanted was to stay on Coruscant, and now he had been condemned to remain here until the end of the Chancellor’s term. Plus four more years, if the Chancellor won his bid for a second term.
“You seem upset, Johun.”
“Not upset, Master,” the young man answered carefully. “Disappointed. This was not what I was hoping for.”
“Our order is sworn to serve. Often we must sacrifice what we most value for the good of others. This is what it means to be a Jedi.”
Johun felt no desire to argue the point. As usual, his Master was right. If this was his duty, if this was the role he was asked to serve, then he would not only accept it but embrace it.
“Master Valenthyne, I humbly accept this great honor you have given me. I will serve Chancellor Valorum with all my heart and spirit, to the best of my abilities.”
“It gives me great pleasure to hear you accept your fate so willingly, Johun,” Farfalla answered with a mischievous smile. “But there is still one more
small matter.
“I will have to leave Coruscant in the next few days to attend to other business. As you can imagine, this is a difficult time for our order.”
“Of course, Master.”
“But you must understand that I cannot leave a Padawan here on Coruscant unsupervised.”
It was true. All Padawans were required to be under the constant care and watchful eye of a Jedi Master until they completed their training. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. If you are leaving, then what new Master will I serve?”
“I think your period of service is over, my young Jedi.”
For a moment Johun just stood there, unable to wrap his mind around what he had been told. Only when he realized Farfalla had used the honorific Jedi instead of Padawan did it become clear.
“You mean … I am to be knighted?”
“That is precisely what I mean,” Farfalla confirmed. “I have met with the Council and they agree that you are ready.”
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.”
“I have spoken with them about this, too, and they agree that you have already proven yourself many times over during your service on Ruusan. Assigning you to Valorum’s guard was your final test. In accepting the position as you did, you have demonstrated beyond all doubt that you are willing to sacrifice your own wants and desires for the greater good.”
“I … I don’t know what to say, Master,” the young man stammered.
“You earned this, Johun,” Farfalla assured him. “General Hoth would be proud.”
The Jedi Master’s lightsaber appeared in his hand, igniting with a clean, crisp hum. Johun bowed his head and turned it slightly to one side. Farfalla flicked his wrist, and the lightsaber sliced away the dangling apprentice’s braid. The young man felt the weight of it tumbling away as it fell to the floor, then raised his head with tears in his eyes.
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