Star Wars_ Darth Bane 02_ Rule of Two - Drew Karpyshyn [12]
A handful of steps from freedom, one of the men made the fatal mistake of glancing back over his shoulder to see whether their adversary was following. On a whim, Bane sent his lightsaber hurtling toward him with a casual toss. The spinning blade sliced through the air in a tight loop, crossing the expanse of the camp in a fraction of a second before swooping back to be caught in the waiting hand of its Master.
Two of the mercenaries vanished into the forest, crashing through the underbrush. The third—the one who had paused to look back—stood still as stone. A second later his head toppled forward from his shoulders to bounce and roll across the ground, severed from the cauterized stump of his neck by the crimson blade of Bane’s thrown lightsaber. As if the fallen head were a signal, the rigid limbs of the decapitated corpse went suddenly limp, and it fell over sideways.
Bane extinguished his lightsaber, the blade vanishing with a sharp hiss. For a brief instant he reveled in his victory, drinking in the last lingering remnants of his victims’ emotions, drawing power from their fear and suffering. And then the moment was gone, fleeing like those who had escaped his wrath. He could have pursued them, but as much as he yearned to taste their panic, he understood the purpose of letting them live.
“You let them get away.”
He spun around in surprise to see Zannah standing just inside the perimeter of the camp. Engrossed in the slaughter, he hadn’t sensed her approach. Either that, or his young apprentice had taken pains to shield her presence from him.
Don’t underestimate her, Bane reminded himself. She has the power to one day surpass you.
“You let them get away,” Zannah repeated. She didn’t sound angry, or disappointed, or even pleased. She just seemed puzzled.
“I told you to wait for me,” Bane admonished her. “Why did you disobey?”
She didn’t answer right away, weighing her words carefully until she could find an answer that would appease her Master. “I wanted to see the true power of the dark side,” she admitted finally. “Can you teach me to …?” She trailed off, unable to find the words to describe what she had just witnessed. Instead she simply waved her hand, indicating the totality of the carnage he had unleashed.
“You will learn,” Bane assured her, attaching the hooked handle of his lightsaber back onto his belt.
She didn’t smile, but there was an eager expression in her gaze, a hunger her Master knew well. He’d seen the same raw ambition in the eyes of Githany, his former lover and one of Kaan’s doomed followers. He knew that if Zannah did not learn to temper and control her ambition, it would lead her down a path of destruction, just as it had with Githany.
“Prowess in combat is the simplest display of the dark side’s power,” her Master cautioned her. “Brutal and quick, it serves a purpose. Yet it is often less effective than subtlety and cunning. Ultimately letting those mercenaries live may prove more useful than killing them.”
“But they were weak,” his apprentice protested, throwing his own teachings back at him. “They deserved to die!”
“Few beings in the galaxy ever get what they truly deserve,” he noted, choosing his words with care. The dark side was not easily understood; even he was still learning to work his way through its complexities and contradictions. He had to be careful not to overwhelm his young apprentice, yet it was important that she grasp the essence of what he had done here. “Our mission is not to bring death to all those unfit to live. We answer to a greater calling. All I have done on Ruusan, and all that we will do from this day forward, must serve our true purpose: the preservation of our Order and the survival of the Sith.”
After a moment’s consideration, Zannah shook her head.