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“He would have never helped you by choice,” Serra countered. There was no anger in her voice, though her words had the steely ring of truth.

“But he did help me,” Bane reminded her. “He was useful. I could have a use for you as well, if you share his talent.”

“My father taught me everything he knew,” she admitted. “But, like him, I will never help a monster like you.”

She turned to address the Iktotchi standing silently by Bane’s side.

“If you follow this man he will destroy you,” she warned. “I’ve seen the rewards given to those who walk the path of the dark side.”

“The dark side will give me power,” the Huntress replied confidently. “It will guide me to my destiny.”

“Only a fool believes that,” the princess replied. “Look at me. I gave in to my hate. I let it consume me. My desire for revenge cost me everything and everyone I care about.”

“The dark side will devour those who lack the power to control it,” Bane agreed. “It’s a fierce storm of emotion that annihilates anything in its path. It lays waste to the weak and unworthy.

“But those who are strong,” he added, “can ride the storm winds to unfathomable heights. They can unlock their true potential; they can sever the chains that bind them; they can dominate the world around them. Only those with the power to control the dark side can ever truly be free.”

“No,” Serra replied, gently shaking her head. “I don’t believe that. The dark side is evil. You are evil. And I will never serve you.”

There was a quiet defiance in her words, and Bane sensed nothing he could say or do would ever persuade her. For a brief moment he considered attempting the ritual of essence transfer, then quickly dismissed the idea. The ritual would consume his physical form, and if he failed to possess her body his spirit would be trapped forever in the void. Her will was as strong as her father’s, and he didn’t know if he was powerful enough to overcome it.

He didn’t need to do this now. He still had several years before his current body failed completely. It was better to wait and try to find a technician to create a clone body. That, or find someone younger and more innocent.

“She is of no use to us, Master,” the Iktotchi noted, an eager gleam in her eye. “May I kill her for you?”

He nodded, and the Huntress stepped forward, advancing slowly on the other woman. Bane sensed the assassin liked to savor the kill, reveling in the fear and pain of her victims. But Serra made no move to defend herself. She didn’t try to run, or beg for mercy. Instead, she stood perfectly still, willing to meet her fate with mute acceptance.

Recognizing she would get no satisfaction from Caleb’s daughter, the assassin ended Serra’s life.

25

Zannah’s fingers hesitated over the Victory’s nav panel as she pondered her next destination. Ever since escaping the Stone Prison, she had kept the shuttle in a low-level orbit around Doan.

She didn’t want to go back to Ciutric. Bane was still alive and she needed to find him, but she didn’t think he’d be returning to their home anytime soon.

For a time she had considered heading to Set’s estate on Nar Shaddaa. If he was dead, he certainly couldn’t object if she used his place as a temporary base while she set out to hunt down her Master. And if he happened to be there when she arrived—if he had somehow escaped the dungeon’s collapse—then Zannah had plenty of questions for him.

However, the more she thought about confronting the man she had chosen as her apprentice, the less the idea appealed to her. Looking back, it was clear to her that Set had been a mistake. Overeager to assume the role of Dark Lord, she had convinced herself that he was an acceptable choice. Desperate to find an apprentice of her own, she had ignored his obvious flaws.

Set was a dangerous man—one she suspected she might have to deal with later on if she discovered he was still alive—but he wasn’t fit to be a Sith. His affinity for the Force was strong, and he willingly embraced many of the dark side’s more