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In the cockpit Zannah braced herself as the sensors picked up a fierce sandstorm several hundred kilometers in the distance. Beside her Set was seated in his customary position: chair leaning back, feet up on the dash.

Making a slight change in her approach vector brought her on a collision course with the storm. She didn’t bother to give Set any warning as the Victory was engulfed by the whirling vortex.

The stabilizers kept the ship from suffering any real harm, but the cabin bucked violently as the vessel was buffeted by the howling winds. Set was sent tumbling from his chair, but he managed to roll with the momentum as he hit the ground and came up on his feet.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused, using the back of his chair to steady himself in the turbulence.

“You need to be alert and aware of your surroundings at all times,” she instructed him. “Always be on your guard.”

“I thought the information I gave you might have earned me a break from any more lessons today,” he grumbled as he sat back into his copilot’s chair and buckled the restraints.

“You were wrong.”

Despite her words, Set had proved himself to be quite valuable. In addition to telling her about Darth Andeddu and his Holocron, he had actually come up with the most likely place Bane was being held.

“They probably took your Master to the Stone Prison,” he had declared shortly after they had begun their journey.

“The Stone Prison?”

“A dungeon built centuries ago by the nobility on Doan to house political prisoners,” he’d explained. “I found all sorts of references to it in the historical archives.”

“What kind of defenses do they have?” she’d asked.

“Pretty standard. Anti-aircraft cannons. Armed guards inside. And they can set off a series of explosion to bring the whole place down as a last resort.”

Zannah had scowled. “We’ll have to avoid detection when we go in.”

“That might be easier than you think,” Set had answered with a smile. “The Stone Prison hasn’t been used for almost two generations.”

It all made sense to Zannah. A small team of elite guards or mercenaries could keep a single prisoner secured in the abandoned facility without attracting unwanted attention. All the infrastructure they needed—holding cells, interrogation rooms—would still be there. If they stayed deep inside the heart of the complex, nobody would even know they were there. Secrecy, as she well understood, was often the best protection from your enemies. But when your secrets were exposed, it could leave you vulnerable.

“They won’t be expecting anyone to assault the prison, so I doubt they’ll even activate the external defenses,” Set had continued, speaking aloud the very thoughts running through Zannah’s mind. “A small team couldn’t spare the bodies to operate the stations, and powering the systems up would be like sending off a flare to alert everyone they were there.”

It was at that point that Zannah realized Set, for all his seeming overconfidence and carefree attitude, actually liked to be prepared. He wasn’t afraid to improvise and adapt, but he had the sense to know what he was heading into … at least in the short term. The trick would be teaching him to apply the same kind of diligence to long-term plans, then have the patience to bear them out.

The Victory passed through the eye of the sandstorm and out the other side, continuing on toward the tall stone column looming far in the distance. Even though they were enjoying a smooth ride once more, Zannah was pleased to see that Set didn’t lean back and put his feet up again.

He was learning, and he’d shown several flashes of real potential during their time together. Maybe there was hope for him yet … or maybe, Zannah had to admit, she was just so desperate to find an apprentice she was willing to overlook his flaws.

“There. That column up ahead. That’s the one we want.”

Dusk had fallen and Zannah could just make out the silhouette of the massive stone pillar in the distance. From here it looked like an enormous candle: tall and straight, the