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With one final push of the Force, he reached out with his mind and seized what he had been searching for. With the aid of the gatekeeper the information would have taken weeks to absorb and learn. Bane, however, had gone right to the source. The knowledge streamed directly from the Holocron into his mind, raw and unfiltered. Thousands of images flooded his consciousness, an explosion of sights, sounds, and thoughts that caused him to drop the Holocron to the floor, breaking the connection.

The gatekeeper’s image vanished, leaving Bane alone in the ship, still sitting cross-legged on the floor. He was slumped forward, his breath coming in heavy gasps. His clothes were soaked in sweat; his body shivered with exhaustion.

Slowly, he got to his feet and made his way over to the pilot’s seat. He walked with the stumbling gait of a man drunk on Mandalorian wine, resting his hand on the wall for support. His head was swimming, lost in the secrets he had wrenched from the Holocron’s depths.

As he collapsed into the seat the control console began to beep softly. It took him several seconds to realize the latest hyperspace jump on his return journey was reaching an end … though there were still many more jumps to go.

He needed to plot a course for the next leg of the trip, but he was in no state to contemplate that right now. Not while his addled mind was still wrestling with what he had learned. He needed time to process the information from the Holocron, to wrap his head around it. To analyze and compartmentalize all the facts, arranging them into some semblance of rational thought.

Bane reached out and activated the autopilot, content to let the ship drift slowly through space while he recovered. Then he closed his eyes and let the darkness of sleep envelop him.

13

Consciousness returned slowly to Set Harth. It was as if his mind were swimming through a swamp, struggling to escape the murky depths of his own subconscious. Pushing up through the sludge he finally broke the surface, though the lingering memories of strange dreams and nightmares still prowled the dark corners of his mind.

On some level he was aware the nightmares had nearly driven him mad. They had been on the verge of destroying him, but Set had refused to succumb. Bit by bit he had managed to shove them back down into the hidden recesses of his mind where they belonged, separating fantasy from reality one small piece at a time.

How long was I out? he wondered, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing steady so as not to reveal he had woken up. Feels like days.

He was in his own room, that much he was sure of. He recognized the smell of his perfumed pillow, the soft feel of silk sheets against his skin, the luxurious comfort of his down-filled mattress. Everything else was still a blur.

Come on, Set. Let’s figure this out.

Careful to avoid the horrors of his recent nightmares, Set stretched his memory back, trying to piece together exactly what had happened to him.

The blond woman.

She had been waiting in his mansion when he returned home from the party. It wasn’t the first time that had happened … though this was the first time his uninvited guest had tried to kill him.

Probably wasn’t really trying to kill you, he reminded himself. Seeing as how you’re still alive.

They had fought. That much he remembered clearly. They had fought and she had beaten him.

Though his eyes were still closed, Set was beginning to assemble a detailed image of his surroundings by reaching out with the Force. He was in his own bed, in his own room. But he wasn’t alone. Someone else was there. The woman.

Claimed she was a Sith.

He still had no idea why she had broken into his home. He couldn’t even guess why she had left him alive. But he was determined to make her regret it.

Pushing out gently with his mind, he scanned the room for his lightsaber. It was resting on his dressing table on the far side of the room. The woman was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, patiently waiting for