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 pa.s.sed 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 j.a.prael 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 rea.s.suring 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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. a.s.signing 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 a.s.sured 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.

He was unable to speak, his mind still swirling with all that had happened: his ascension to the rank of Jedi Knight; his posting to Valorum's guard; the tragic news of Irtanna and her crew.

"You will forever look back on this day as one of great joy, but also one of great sorrow," Farfalla told him, offering one final piece of advice.

"It will help you to remember that, in life, the two are often closely linked."

"I will remember, Master," Johun vowed, realizing that for the first time he was offering his word not as a Padawan, but as a true Jedi Knight.

Darovit moved with a slow but steady pace across the cracked soil of the sunbaked field. His left hand clutched a walking stick while the stump where his right had been was wrapped in heavy bandages. A hovering bouncer matched his pace on either side; their round bodies bobbed along like a pair of furry green balloons tethered to his shoulders. They had wide, soulful eyes but no visible nose or mouth. Their long, flat tails streamed out behind them like ribbons fluttering on the breeze.

The bouncers had first come to him in the cave, where he had lain for days in a near-catatonic state. Huddled and clutching at his maimed limb, he had given up all hope. When they found him, he had wanted nothing more than to die.

The compa.s.sionate, telepathic creatures had circled above him, speaking directly to his mind, offering words of comfort and a.s.surance. They had soothed his troubled spirit, and though they could not heal his wounds they were able to ease his physical pain.

They had guided him safely out of the underground tunnels and back up to the bright sun and fresh air of the surface. They had led him to a grove where he found cool water to slake his thirst and sweet berries to sate his ravenous hunger. They'd even shown him where to find an abandoned cache of medical supplies, so he could properly clean and dress his amputated stump to stave off infection.

For several days the young man had stayed hidden at the bouncers' grove, gathering his strength and recovering from his terrible wound. He was too afraid of being recognized as one of the Sith to seek out others of his own species, too ashamed by his actions and his mutilated limb to face others of his own kind. But more powerful than either his fear or his shame was his rage-Rain had taken his hand! His own cousin had betrayed and maimed him! Thoughts of vengeance and retribution consumed him; images of hunting her down and destroying her filled his restless dreams.

Yet as his body began to heal, his anger began to fade. Desperate to cling to his hatred, he had replayed the encounter with Rain over and over in his mind . . . only to have the truth suddenly dawn on him. Rain had been trying to save him!

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.

Darovit was grateful for their kindness, but he couldn't understand why they had helped him. Perhaps it was because everyone else was gone: The Sith were destroyed, their minions had fled the world or been taken away as prisoners of war. The Jedi and Republic soldiers serving in the Army of Light were all gone. Two nights earlier he'd seen the telltale flicker of ships making the jump to hypers.p.a.ce in the starry sky as their fleet had left orbit. Even those who lived on Ruusan had gone back to their farms and villages, abandoning the site of the great battle between the darkness and the light. For several days now he had seen no living creature other than the bouncers who had saved him.

He understood that they had given him a second chance at life. He could put his past behind him and start again. But to what purpose? To what end? The bouncers spoke often of the future, as if they had some ability to see glimpses of what was to come. Like most oracles, however, they used words that were couched in vague riddles and generalities, words that offered him no clue to his own fate.

Darovit sad, one of the creatures projected into his mind, a statement more than a question.

"I just don't know what I should do now," he answered out loud. While the bouncers could project their thoughts and empathically sense broad emotion in others, they weren't able to read minds. It was necessary to actually speak to carry on a conversation with them.

"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?"

Man?

The answer actually made him stop short. "A man?" he repeated.

Not a Sith, not a Jedi. Not a mercenary, not a soldier. Not anything but a simple, ordinary man. He nodded and resumed his march across the empty, open field, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from him.

"Just a man. Why not?"

Chapter 10.

Ten Years Later The Outer Rim world of Serenno was one of the wealthiest planets in the Republic. It was also a breeding ground for anti-Republic sentiment and radical separatist movements, often secretly funded by the vast wealth of various Serenno n.o.ble families eager to free themselves from the political yoke of the Galactic Senate.

Yet despite the dangerous revolutionary undercurrents of its culture, or perhaps because of them, the great outdoor market of the planetary capital of Carannia had become renowned as a hub of interstellar mercantilism. Shoppers of two dozen different species mingled freely beneath the tents and awnings of a thousand vendor stalls. From dawn to dusk the cries of merchants hawking goods imported from every corner of the galaxy mingled with the shouted bids of haggling customers. Even the affluent and privileged braved the ma.s.ses of the crowded plaza, willingly reducing themselves to part of the unruly mob pushing and shoving its way through the stalls in search of rare or valuable treasures that could be found nowhere else. 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. It was necessary for her to take precautions when she didn't wish to draw the appreciative stares of males, or the envious glances of other females. In this particular instance she had donned a loose black cloak that covered her from head to toe, obscuring her lean, athletic figure. The hood was pulled up to conceal her flowing mane of long, curly blond hair, and the shadows it cast across her features hid her bright, fierce eyes.

She had also wrapped herself in a faint aura of insignificance, an illusion of the dark side that allowed her to hide in plain sight when she ventured out in public. It wouldn't shield her from the eyes of anyone looking for her, but as long as she didn't draw attention to herself she would remain unnoticed and unremembered by the vast majority of weak-minded common folk.

Even with these precautions, she would occasionally notice someone giving her a second glance. There was something about her, a hard edge to the way she moved and even the way she stood, that set her apart from others.

Yet it was far easier for her to remain inconspicuous than it was for her Master. Over the past decade, the or-balisks 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.

Cloaks and thick layers of clothing couldn't fully hide what he had become. Anyone who happened to catch a glimpse of the shiny carapaces beneath his garments would definitely remember. As a result, Bane rarely left their camp on Ambria. He relied on his apprentice to be his eyes and ears to the outside world. He counted on her to act as an agent of his will, to coordinate and oversee the intricate plans he orchestrated from behind the scenes.

That was why she was here now, waiting for a young Twi'lek she knew as Kelad'den. It was unlikely that was his actual name, however. After all, he didn't know her real name ... despite the fact that they were lovers.

Kel was a political revolutionary-a self-styled freedom fighter battling tyranny as a high-ranking member of a small extremist group determined to bring down the Republic. It had taken Zannah several months to win his trust, but he had finally succ.u.mbed. Last night, as they had lain intertwined in the rough sheets of the small bed in Zannah's rented apartment, the Twi'lek had promised to meet her at midday in the plaza to bring her to one of his organization's clandestine meetings.

From the height of the sun in the afternoon sky it was obvious Kelad'dan was late. Still, Zannah continued to wait. She had learned the value of patience early on in her studies...

"Secrecy. Cunning. Patience. These are the weapons of the Sith" her Master told her.

They had left Onderon eight days before, abandoning the Star-Wake and acquiring another vessel from a Neimoidian merchant to bring them to Ambria. It was here on this remote world that Bane would begin her training.

"Act in haste and you give the advantage to your enemy" Bane explained.

"Sometimes the proper, and more difficult, course is not to act. Even the greatest warrior often fails to wait until the moment is right before striking out. That is a mistake we cannot afford to make."

She nodded, absorbing his words and committing them to memory. But words were only part of her training. Her Master also gave her a task-a test that would prove she had truly learned her lesson.

In one of the caves near the sh.o.r.e of Lake Natth, a few kilometers from their camp, lived a small family of neeks: small, reptilian herbivores native to Ambria. Only a meter in height, they stood upright on their hind legs, using their tails for balance and support. Their forelimbs were short and underdeveloped, good only for digging up shallow roots or carrying small nuts back to their nests. They had long necks and tiny heads with small, toothless jaws that resembled beaks.

The first day she and Darth Bane had arrived on the world, Zannah had noticed them scurrying and darting about on the hot sands of the beach.

As the first part of her training, Bane had tasked her with bringing one of the neeks to him, alive and unfettered.

The mission proved to be much harder than she first imagined. A common food source for the large carnivores that often prowled the sh.o.r.es of Lake Natth, neeks were skittish by nature. They would flee at the sight of her, scampering off to disappear into the small cracks and crevices in the rocks surrounding the caves where they made their home.

She couldn't simply set a trap for one; Bane's instructions required her to bring him one that came of its own free will. At first Zannah had tried luring them back to the camp by leaving a trail of food, but the creatures were mistrustful and spurned her offerings. Next, she tried dominating one's mind as she had seen Bane do with the drexl. But at Lake Natth an ancient Jedi had once bound the dark side power of his enemies.