Star Wars_ Darth Bane 01_ Path of Destruction - Drew Karpyshyn [121]
“Pernicar’s death is not your fault,” Farfalla said, coming forward to place a comforting hand on Hoth’s shoulder. “Let go of your guilt. There is no emotion. There is peace.”
Hoth wheeled around and slapped his hand away. “Get away from me! Take your blasted reinforcements and run back to Coruscant like the mincing cowards you are! We don’t need your kind here!”
Now it was Farfalla who turned away, stomping angrily back to his swoopbike while the rest of the group watched in silent shock and horror. He threw one long leg over the seat and fired up the engines.
“Maybe the other Jedi were right about you!” he said, shouting to be heard over the roar of his swoop. “This war has consumed you. Driven you to madness. Madness that will lead you to the dark side!”
Hoth didn’t bother to watch as Farfalla and the other swoops sped off into the distance. Instead he crouched down beside the body of his oldest friend and wept at his brutal, senseless end.
When Githany finally arrived, Kaan had to keep himself from snapping at her. She had already seen him with his guard down: uncertain, unsure. He had to be careful when dealing with her now, lest he lose her allegiance. And he needed her more than ever.
Instead he spoke in a casual tone that held only a hint of icy disapproval beneath its surface. “I sent for you nearly three hours ago.”
She flashed him a fierce, savage smile. “There was a sortie going out against one of the Jedi supply caravans. I decided to go with them.”
“I haven’t heard the reports yet. What was the result?”
“It was glorious, Lord Kaan!” She laughed. “Three more Masters, six Jedi Knights, a handful of Padawans … all dead!”
Kaan nodded his approval. The tide of battle was ever changing on Ruusan, and with the end of the rainy season the pendulum had swung back in favor of the Sith. Of course he knew it was more than a change of weather that had restored the morale of his troops and brought them a string of resounding victories.
The Army of Light was fractured. Their numbers on Ruusan were dwindling. Valenthyne Farfalla was orbiting the world with reinforcements, but Kaan’s spies reported a rift between Hoth and Lord Farfalla that kept the newcomers from joining the fray. Without Master Pernicar to blunt their sharp animosity, the two Jedi Masters’ mutual antipathy was crippling the Jedi war effort.
The irony of the situation was not lost on Kaan. For a change it was the Jedi who were split by infighting and rivalries, while the Brotherhood of Darkness remained united and strong. Part of him found the strange reversal troubling. In the long nights when he couldn’t sleep, he’d often walk the floor of his tent wrestling with the seeming paradox.
Had the armies on Ruusan crossed a line where light and darkness meet? Had the endless conflict between the Army of Light and the Brotherhood of Darkness drawn them both into a void where the ideologies became hopelessly intertwined? Were they all now Force-users of the Twilight, caught between the two sides and belonging to neither?
However, the arrival of the morning sun would inevitably banish such thoughts with news of yet another Sith victory in the field. And only a fool questioned his methods when he was winning. Which was why he wasn’t sure what to make of the message he had recently received from Darth Bane.
“Kas’im is dead,” he told Githany, getting directly to the matter at hand.
“Dead?” Her shocked reaction affirmed Kaan’s decision not to share this news with the rest of the Brotherhood. He had been careful to keep the purpose of the Blademaster’s departure secret until he knew the outcome of the confrontation. “Was it the Jedi?” she asked.
“No,