Star Wars_ Darth Bane 01_ Path of Destruction - Drew Karpyshyn [158]
He took a sudden step toward her, his right fist clenched before him to punctuate his words. Zannah flinched at the unexpected movement, but didn’t retreat.
“Their deaths were not an accident!” he shouted as he took another step forward. “What happened was not some mistake!”
A third step brought him so close that the shadow of his massive frame enveloped the girl like an eclipse. She cowered slightly but held her ground. Bane froze, blocking out the pain in the back of his skull and reining in his fury. He crouched down beside her and relaxed his clenched fist. Then he reached out slowly with his hand and placed it gently on her shoulder.
“Think back to what you felt when you unleashed your power against them,” he said, his voice now a soft, seductive whisper. “Think back to what you felt when the Jedi murdered your friend.”
Zannah dropped her head, her eyes closed. For several seconds she was still and silent, forcing her mind to relive the moment. Bane saw the emotions crossing her face: grief, sorrow, loss. Beneath his massive hand on her frail shoulder, she trembled slightly. Then, slowly, he felt her anger begin to rise. And with it, the power of the dark side.
When the girl looked up again her eyes were open wide; they burned with a fierce intensity. “They killed Laa,” she spat. “They deserved to die!”
“Good.” Bane let his hand fall from her shoulder and took a step back, the hint of a satisfied smile playing across his lips. “Feel the anger. Welcome it. Embrace it.
“Through passion, I gain strength,” he continued, reciting from the Code of the Sith. “Through strength, I gain power.”
“Through passion, I gain strength,” she said, repeating his words, responding to them. “Through strength, I gain power.” He could sense the dark side building within her, growing in intensity until he could almost feel its heat.
“The Jedi died because they were weak,” he said, taking a step back. “Only the strong survive, and the Force will make you strong.” As he turned away, he added, “Use it to keep up. If you fall behind again, I will leave you here on this world.”
“But you still haven’t told me what to do!” she shouted after him as he marched away.
Bane didn’t reply. He’d given her the answer, though she didn’t know it yet. If she was worthy of being his apprentice, she’d figure it out.
He felt a sudden surge of power rushing toward him, concentrated on the heel of his left foot as she tried to trip him up to slow him down. Bane had braced himself for some kind of reaction the moment he’d turned his back on her. He’d pushed her to the edge; he’d have been disappointed if she had done nothing. But he’d been expecting a broader, more basic assault—a wave of dark side energy meant to hurl him to the ground. A focused strike against a single heel was much more subtle. It showed intelligence and cunning, and though he was ready for it, the strength of her attack still surprised him.
Yet even with as much power and potential as Zannah had, she was no match for a Dark Lord of the Sith. Bane drew upon his own abilities in the Force to absorb the impact of her attack, catching it and amplifying its strength before firing it back at his apprentice. The redirected blow struck Zannah in the chest, hard enough to knock her to the ground. A grunt of surprise escaped her lips as she landed hard on her backside.
She wasn’t injured; Bane had no intention of harming her. The constant beatings inflicted on him by his father throughout his childhood had helped transform Bane into what he was today, but they had also caused him to hate and despise Hurst. If this girl was to be his apprentice, she had to respect and admire him. He could not teach her the ways of the dark side if she was not willing—even eager—to learn from him. The only thing Hurst’s beatings had ever taught