Star Wars_ Darth Bane 02_ Rule of Two - Drew Karpyshyn [131]
A tattered blanket hung down across the building’s open doorway, obscuring their view. The Twi’lek reached out with the Force to try to sense whoever was hiding inside, but something—likely the strange, underlying power of the campsite itself—blurred his awareness.
“I am Master Tho’natu of the Jedi,” he called out, flicking off his lightsaber’s blade. “We’re here to help you.”
A scream of incoherent rage erupted from the shack. A young man burst from the doorway, brandishing a golden lightsaber above his head in his left hand. His right hand was nothing but a stump, and there was a crazed gleam in his eye.
“No!” he shrieked as he charged at them, flailing wildly with his weapon. “You’ll never get me! No! No! No!”
Master Tho’natu ignited his blade as the man fell on him with the fury of madness, his cries turning to mindless, beastly howls. The rest of his team reacted on instinct, leaping to their commander’s defense. The battle lasted less than three seconds, the raving young man cut down by a swarm of Jedi lightsabers.
When it was over, the Jedi took up defensive positions facing the shack, weapons poised as they braced themselves for another potential attack. For several seconds nothing happened, and there were no further sounds of life from inside. Motioning for the others to stay back, Tho’natu crept forward and pulled aside the blanket covering the doorway.
The room beyond was empty except for five lightsaber handles lying beside the door. The Jedi Master stepped inside the small building, his keen mind quickly piecing together what must have happened.
He recalled that Farfalla had used a golden blade, just like the one the man had attacked them with. The lightsabers here were trophies, taken from those who had died on Tython by their killer. The man outside was young, but the Jedi were taught that the dark side led to quick and easy power—power enough to kill Farfalla and the others, especially if they’d been led into some type of trap. The Sith had slain the Jedi and claimed their weapons, though he must have suffered grievous injuries in the battle, including the loss of his hand.
He had probably tried to call on the power of the dark side to heal himself. But the Jedi Master knew the dark side couldn’t heal; it only caused harm. The misguided attempt was likely what damaged the young man’s mind. Wounded and half mad, he had come to Ambria to seek aid from the healer. By the time he arrived at this place he would have been near death, and completely helpless.
That’s when Caleb must have dispatched the message drone to warn the Jedi.
A Sith Lord still lives. He killed five Jedi on Tython. He is now on Ambria, under the care of a healer named Caleb. He is badly injured and helpless.
He must have sensed who and what the young man was as he healed his horrific injuries. But Caleb had underestimated the Sith Lord’s power—and the degenerating state of his madness. Before the Jedi could arrive, the Sith had recovered enough to torture and kill Caleb for exposing him. The healer’s prolonged and visceral death must have further fueled the young man’s psychosis, reducing him to the raving creature that had lunged at them from the hut.
All the pieces fit. It all made sense.
“Master,” one of the other Jedi said, peeking in through the door. “The rest of the camp is deserted.”
“What about the ship? The Loranda?”
“Nobody on board,” he reported. “It looks like somebody sabotaged her before we got here.”
Probably Caleb, Tho’natu realized. He wanted to make sure the Sith couldn’t escape. If the young man had found out, that could explain the brutality of Caleb’s death.
“It would probably only take two or three days to make the repairs,” the Jedi informed him.
“Leave it for the junkers,” the Twi’lek said with a shake of his head. There were only two things he wanted to bring back from this accursed place. “Collect the healer’s remains. We’ll give him a proper burial on Coruscant.”
The man nodded and scurried off