Bane’s dark eyes flashed angrily, and his hand dropped to the hilt of his lightsaber.
“Killing me won’t keep your secret,” Kaan warned him. “The others know you weren’t at the battle when Farfalla’s ships arrived. More than a few of them probably already suspect you of betraying them.”
Kaan pushed even harder with the Force, trying to twist and warp Bane’s very thoughts. “You may be the strongest among us, but you can’t defeat us all. Not by yourself, Bane.”
The big man staggered and clutched at his head. He stumbled over to the chair and collapsed in it, the wood groaning under his massive frame. He hunched forward, hands pressing hard on his temples.
“You’re right,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. “You’re right.”
“There’s still hope, though,” Kaan said, stepping over and placing a reassuring hand on Bane’s broad shoulder. “Follow me and I will keep the others from turning against you. Join us in the Brotherhood!”
Bane nodded slowly, then turned his head to stare up at Kaan with a desperate, hopeless expression in his eyes. “What about the Jedi? What about their gunships?”
Kaan stood, slowly releasing his mental hold over the other man. “We can nullify their air superiority by retreating into the caves,” he said. “I know General Hoth; he will follow us. And there we will unleash the thought bomb against them.”
Bane leapt to his feet eagerly. Kaan was pleased to see that his powers of Force persuasion were as strong as ever. Even Bane was not immune to his manipulations. “I will do as you say, Lord Kaan!” he exclaimed. “Together we will destroy the Jedi!”
“Peace, Bane,” Kaan urged, extending tendrils of soothing calm. He had nullified the threat to his position that Bane represented, but he knew the effect was only temporary. In time Bane’s hostility would return, as would his dreams of usurping the mantle of leadership. Kaan needed to find a more permanent solution.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “there are still … complications.”
“Complications?”
“I can convince the rest of the Brotherhood to forgive your treasonous acts, but only after the Jedi are destroyed. Until then, you will have to remain hidden from the others.”
The confused and hurt expression on Bane’s face was pitiful, but Kaan was used to eliciting such naked emotion in those he manipulated.
“I will lead the Brotherhood to the caves,” he explained.
“I am strong enough to join their minds and unleash the power of the thought bomb without your help. You stay here in the tent until nightfall, then sneak out of the camp. Stay safely out of view until the deed is done.”
“And once the Jedi are destroyed you will return for me?”
“Yes,” Kaan promised, his voice solemn. “Once the Jedi are gone, I will return for you with the full strength of the Brotherhood.” That much, at least, was truth. He would leave nothing to chance; he wouldn’t underestimate his opponent anymore. Bane had already survived one assassination attempt. This time he would unleash the full numbers of his followers against his foe.
“I will do as you command, Lord Kaan,” Bane replied, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. Kaan turned and marched out into the camp, heading for his own tent where the pages containing the ritual of the thought bomb were hidden away.
Bane stayed in the position of supplication until the Dark Lord was well out of sight, then stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees with a grim scowl. He had felt Kaan’s efforts to dominate his mind, but they had had no more effect than a rusted knife scraping against the hide plates of a Halurian ice-boar. Yet he had seized on the opportunity and delivered a performance worthy of the greatest dramatist on Alderaan.
Kaan was convinced the thought bomb was the key to Sith victory, and he was about to ensnare the rest of the Brotherhood in his web of madness. The second phase of Bane’s plan was set in motion. By nightfall the next day it would all be over.
On the perimeters of the Jedi camp, patrols circled endlessly throughout the night, ever vigilant and watchful. It wasn’t just attacks from the Sith they stood guard against, but also the invasions of the floating, fur-covered bouncers.
The previously peaceful and docile native creatures of Ruusan had been driven mad by the cataclysm that had swept through the forest. Before, they had been a familiar and welcome sight: gathering in groups over the sick and wounded to project images of comfort and healing. Now they emerged from the night’s gloom in terrible packs, inflicting twisted nightmares that brought suffering, terror, and panic to all in the vicinity.
There was nothing the patrols could do but shoot the tormented creatures on sight, before they spread their madness among the Jedi. A grim task, but necessary—as so many other things here on Ruusan had been.
Fortunately, the patrols had managed to keep the bouncers at bay, and the mood within the confines of the Jedi camp itself was one of cautious optimism. After the hopeless despair of the past months their subdued enthusiasm almost felt like jubilant revelry to General Hoth.
They were no longer the hunted, cowering in the depths of the forest, surviving only as long as they remained hidden. The Jedi had gained the upper hand: their new camp had been set up on the open plains along the edges of the very battlefield where the war had turned. And now it was the Sith who had gone into hiding.
The general, though still exhausted by the desperate escape from the flames and the fighting that followed, refused to sleep. There were too many details to see to, too many things that needed his attention.
In addition to organizing the patrols to protect against the bouncers, he also had to oversee the distribution of fresh supplies. Farfalla’s ships had delivered desperately needed food, medpacs, and fresh power cells for blasters and personal shields. With most of their other stores lost to the unnatural wildfire that had devastated the forests, the general wanted to make sure all his troops were properly reequipped and tended to before he granted himself the luxury of rest.
He wove his way through dozens of dying campfires and scores of snoring bodies. They were still short on tents for the troops, but those without were more than content to spend the warm nights splayed out on the ground sleeping beneath the open sky.
“General,” a voice called out, surprisingly loud in the otherwise still night. Hoth turned to see Farfalla running toward him, sure-footed despite the darkness as he leapt nimbly over the slumbering soldiers in his way.
Pausing to let him catch up, Hoth returned his now customary—yet still extravagant—bow with a courteous nod. “Do you have news, Master Farfalla?”
The younger man nodded excitedly. “Our scouts have spotted the Sith on the move. Kaan is leading them east, toward the foothills.”
“Probably heading into the caves and tunnel systems,” Hoth guessed. “Trying to take away our advantage in the air.”
Farfalla smiled. “Fortunately, we’ve already done some reconnaissance on the area. We know most of the major access points to and from the surface. Once they go into the tunnels we can surround the exits. They’ll be trapped!”
“Hmmm …” Hoth stroked his heavy beard. “It isn’t like Kaan to make such an obvious tactical mistake,” he muttered. “He’s up to something.”
“I could instruct some of the scouts to follow them into the tunnels and keep an eye on them,” Farfalla suggested.
“No,” Hoth said firmly after only a moment’s consideration. “Kaan will be watching for spies. I won’t deliver any of our people into his hands for interrogation.”
“Maybe we could starve them out,” Farfalla offered. “Force them to surrender without any more bloodshed.”
“That would be the best solution,” the general admitted. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we can afford that kind of time.” He gave a deep sigh and a weary shake of his head. “I don’t know why Kaan’s heading into the caves … I just know we have to do something to stop him.” Resolve hardened his face. “Sound the reveille and assemble the troops
. We’ll go in after him.”
“Not to question your orders, General,” Farfalla began, as tactfully as he could, “but is it possible Kaan is luring you into a trap?”
“I’m almost certain of it,” Hoth conceded. “But it’s a trap he’s going to spring sooner or later anyway. I’d rather not give him time to prepare. If we’re lucky we can catch him before he’s ready.”
“As you command, General,” Farfalla said with another of his grandiose bows. Then he added, “You, however, should get some sleep. You look as pale and drawn as one of the Sith yourself.”
“I can’t sleep now, my friend,” Hoth answered, placing a heavy hand on Farfalla’s delicate shoulder. “I was here at the start of this war. I was the one who led the Army of Light here to Ruusan to face Kaan’s Brotherhood of Darkness. I must see this out to the end.”
“But how much longer can you go without sleep, General?”
“Long enough. I get the feeling this will all be over by tomorrow’s end—one way or another.”
30
The caves were cool and damp, but they were far from dark. The rock walls and ceiling were laced with crystals that caught the dim light from the glow rods, reflecting and refracting their illumination throughout the cavern. Small pools shimmered on the floor, and enormous stalagmites jutted up toward the roof. An inverted forest of stalactites hung down, water dripping steadily from their tips to splash and ripple the pools far below. In some places the protrusions on the floor and ceiling had actually fused, joined by centuries of sediment deposits from the endless trickles of moisture. The enormous columns were magnificent: massive, yet at the same time delicate and fragile.
Kaan had no time to marvel at the natural beauty of their surroundings. He knew the Jedi scouts had marked their exodus to this underground refuge. And he knew General Hoth wouldn’t wait long before coming after him.
The cavern, though large, was crowded with the rest of the Brotherhood. Every surviving Sith Lord—with the notable exception of Darth Bane—was gathered with him here to make their final stand. The rest of his army was guarding the main entrances to the subterranean tunnels, with orders to hold off the inevitable Jedi attack for as long as possible.
Eventually those outside would be overwhelmed, but Kaan was confident their numbers would delay Hoth long enough for the ritual of the thought bomb to be completed.
“Gather ’round,” he called out to the others. “It is time.”
Githany knew there was something very wrong with Lord Kaan. She had suspected something was amiss when they had fled the arriving Jedi reinforcements. When they landed back at camp, Kaan had disappeared into the communications tent, then reappeared moments later and gone into his own tent without speaking a word. But when he emerged from his tent, the irresistible force of his charisma was back in place. He came to them then not as a defeated leader seeking to make amends but as a conquering hero, defiant and unbowed. He stood proud, the picture of might and glory.
He spoke to them, his voice strong and his words bold, radiating authority. He spoke of leading them in a joining of their minds, a ritual that would far surpass the one Bane had led them in only hours earlier. He told them of a terrible weapon they would unleash against their foes. He rekindled their faith and hope by revealing the existence of the thought bomb.
He had promised them victory, as he had done so many times before. And, as they had always done in the past, the Brotherhood had followed him once again. Followed him here to this cave, though Githany wasn’t sure if it was more accurate to say they had been led—or lured.
She had followed him along with everyone else, compelled by the passion of his words and the sheer magnitude of his personality and presence. All thoughts that he might be unstable or unfit to lead them had been forgotten in the heady pilgrimage through the night to the shelter of this cave. Once they reached their destination, though, the exhilarating rush had faded away, replaced by a stark and undeniable clarity. And she had finally seen the truth revealed in the illumination of the glow rods reflected in the crystals of the cavern walls.
Kaan’s appearance and garb weren’t unusual, apart from the dust, grime, and blood of the recent battle. But now Githany could see a crazed look in his eyes; they were wide and wild and shone with a fierce intensity, sparkling as brightly as the crystal shards all around them. Those eyes brought back memories of the night she had surprised Kaan in his tent. The night she had seen her vision of Bane’s return.
He had looked disheveled and frantic, lost and confused. For a brief moment she had glimpsed him as he truly was: a false prophet, unable to see past his own delusions. And then the flickering vision had disappeared, forgotten until this instant.
Now, however, the memory came flooding back, and Githany knew she was following a madman. The arrival of the Jedi reinforcements and the shocking defeat had caused something inside him to snap. Kaan was leading them to their doom, and none of the others could sense it.
She didn’t dare to speak out against him. Not here in this cave, surrounded by his once again fanatically loyal followers. She wanted to sneak away, slip quietly off into the darkness beyond the radiance of the glow rods, and escape this horrible fate. But she was caught up by the crush of bodies that surged forward at Kaan’s command.
“Gather in. Closer. Form a circle; a ring of power.”
She felt his hand grab her tightly by the wrist and pull her in so that her body pressed up against his. Even in the chill of the cave, his touch was freezing. “Stand beside me, Githany,” he whispered. “We will share in this moment of exaltation.”
Loudly he shouted, “Join your hands as we must join our minds.”
The fingers of his right hand wrapped around her left, seizing it in a grip cold as ice and unyielding as durasteel. One of the other Sith Lords took her other hand, and she knew all hope of escape was gone.
Beside her, Kaan began to chant.
Githany was not the only one who sensed something wrong with Lord Kaan. Like all the others, Lord Kopecz had been swept up in the excitement of the thought bomb. He had cheered with all the rest when Kaan described how it would obliterate the Jedi and imprison their spirits. And he had eagerly joined in the throng that had followed him to the cave.
Now, however, his zeal had faded. He was thinking rationally again, and he realized the plan was utter insanity. They were at ground zero of the thought bomb’s detonation. Any weapon powerful enough to destroy the Jedi would destroy them, too.
Kaan had promised them that the strength of their combined will would allow them to survive the blast, but now Kopecz had his doubts. The promise stank of wishful thinking birthed from a desperate mind that refused to admit defeat. If Kaan had had this thought bomb all along, why hadn’t he used it before?
The only logical answer was that he was afraid of the consequences. And though Kaan, in his madness, may have let go of that fear, Kopecz was still sane enough to cling to his.
The rest of the Sith pressed forward in response to Kaan’s command, but Kopecz fought against the momentum of the crowd and moved in the opposite direction. None of the others seemed to notice.
A wall of bodies surrounded Kaan, blocking much of the light from the glow rods. In the shadows the Twi’lek moved carefully toward the cavern’s main exit, surprisingly silent for such a large being. He didn’t turn or look back as he entered the tunnel to the surface, and picked up his pace only once he heard the Brotherhood begin a slow, rhythmic chant.
Escape was impossible, of course. By now the Jedi would already have the entire tunnel complex surrounded. Soon they would engage the Sith troops out on the surface, trying to break through their barricade to come after Kaan and end the last great battle of Ruusan. Kopecz didn’t know if they would make it in time. Part of him actually hoped they would.
In the end, though, he wanted to make sure it didn’t matter to him. He’d join the defenders on the surface in one last stand against the Jedi. Death was inevitable; he was willing to a
ccept that fact. But he also knew he’d rather die from a lightsaber or a blaster shot than be caught by the thought bomb’s detonation.
The chant was simple, and after repeating it only once Kaan was joined by the rest of the Brotherhood. They recited the unfamiliar catechism in a steady, constant rhythm. Their voices bounced off the cavern walls, the ancient words mixing and mingling in counterpoint as they echoed throughout the cave.
Githany could feel the power beginning to gather in the center of the ring, like a fierce whirlpool spinning faster and faster. She felt the pull on her conscious thoughts as they were dragged down, her awareness, her mind, and even her identity swallowed up in the vortex. The cool dampness of the cave faded, as did the reverberation of their voices. She could no longer smell the mildew and fungus growing in the hidden corners, or feel the pressure of the hands that gripped her own. Finally, the shimmering of the reflective crystals and the pale light from the glow rods melted away.
We are one. The voice was Kaan’s, yet it was hers, as well. We are the dark side. The dark side is us.
Though she could no longer hear the sound of their chanting she could sense it, even as her mind slipped deeper and deeper into the center. Realizing she would soon lose both the ability and the desire to free herself from Kaan’s ritual, she tried to fight against what was happening to her.
It was like swimming against the relentless undertow of an ocean’s heart. She felt the words of their recurring mantra taking physical shape. They wrapped around their collective will, trapping it, shaping it, and binding it into a rapidly coalescing form.
Feel the power of the dark side. Surrender to it. Surrender to the unified whole. Let us become one.
From deep within herself Githany summoned her last reserves of resistance. Somehow they were enough, and she was able to wrench her mind free from the unholy conclave.
Path of Destruction Page 33