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“You have information for us?” he asked abruptly.

She tilted her head to one side and gave him a curious glance, trying to find the reason for his cold reception. After a moment’s pause she answered, “I can tell you exactly where to strike at their lines, and when. Lord Hoth put a Jedi named Kiel Charny in charge of coordinating their defenses. I got the information directly from him.”

“Why would this Charny share that kind of information with you?” Kopecz asked suspiciously.

She gave him a sly grin. “Kiel and I were … close. We shared many things. He had no idea I would come to you with the information.”

Kopecz narrowed his eyes. “I thought the Jedi disapproved of that sort of thing.”

Her smile became a sneer. “The Jedi disapprove of a lot of things. That’s why I’ve come to you.”

Kaan stepped forward before he could ask any more questions, placing a familiar hand on her hip and turning her away from Kopecz.

“We don’t have time for this, Githany,” he said. “You must give us your report and return to the Jedi camp before anyone notices you’re missing.”

She flashed a dazzling smile at Kaan and nodded. “Of course. We have to hurry.”

He gently ushered her over to the holomap, and a knot of strategists closed in, shielding her from view as she gave them the details of the Jedi guard. A few seconds later Kaan emerged from the crowd and walked back over to stand beside Kopecz.

“Ambition, betrayal—the dark side is strong in her,” the Twi’lek whispered. “I’m surprised the Jedi ever took her in.”

“They probably believed they could turn her to the light,” Kaan replied, speaking just as softly. “But Githany was born to the dark side. Like me. Like you. It was inevitable she would join the Sith someday.”

“The timing is fortunate,” Kopecz noted. “Maybe a little too fortunate. It may be a trap. Are you sure we can trust her? I think she’s dangerous.”

Kaan dismissed the warning with a soft laugh. “So are you, Lord Kopecz. That’s what makes you so useful to the Brotherhood.”

Bane was floating, weightless, surrounded by darkness and silence. It seemed he was adrift in the black void of death itself.

Then consciousness began to return. His body, jerked from blissful unawareness, thrashed in the dark green fluid of the bacta tank, creating a stream of bubbles that rose silently to the surface. His heart began to pound; he could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

His eyes popped open in time to see a med droid come over to adjust some of the settings on his tank. Within seconds his heart rate slowed and the involuntary thrashing of his bruised and broken limbs settled. But though his body was calmed by the tranquilizer, Bane’s mind was now fully alert and aware.

Memories of motion and pain flickered across his mind. The sights, sounds, and smells of combat. He remembered the approach of bloodstained boots: his blood. Kas’im must have stepped in after he’d blacked out and kept Sirak from killing him. They must have brought him here to heal.

At first he was surprised that they would bother to help him recover. Then he realized that he, like all the students at the Academy, was too valuable to the Brotherhood to simply throw away. So he would survive … but his life was essentially over.

Since coming to the Academy he had worked toward one clear goal. All his studying, all his training had been for one single purpose: to understand and command the power of the dark side of the Force. The dark side would bring him power. Glory. Strength. Freedom.

Now he would be a pariah at the Academy. He would be allowed to listen in on the group lessons, to practice his skills in Kas’im’s training sessions, but that would be all. Any hope he might have had of getting one-on-one training with any of the Masters had been crushed in his humiliating defeat. And without that specializing guidance, his potential would wither and die.

In theory all in the Brotherhood were equal, but Bane was smart enough to see the real truth. In practice the Sith needed leaders, Masters like Kaan, or Lord Qordis here at the Academy. The strong always stepped