Rule of Two (8 page)

“They’d cut our throats without a second thought if they had the upper hand,” Irtanna agreed.

“We’re not like them,” Johun said. “We don’t kill prisoners.”

“My wife died fighting munk-whelps like these!” Bordon shouted. “Now you want to show them mercy?”

“Hate leads to the dark side,” Johun replied, reciting the wisdom of the Jedi. But the words lacked power coming from the mouth of a nineteen-year-old Padawan, and even as he said them he knew how empty they sounded.

Bordon threw his hands up in frustration, then let himself fall back angrily into his seat. “Is that why you’re here?” he grumbled in disgust. “To keep us in line? To make sure we don’t stray from your precious light-side ways? Is that why Farfalla sent you along?”

He didn’t send me. I came on my own
, Johun thought. He turned in his seat to look back at Bordon, who stared intently at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. His two sons, however, glared at the young Jedi with venom in their eyes. He understood their anger. The Sith had brought war to Ruusan, a war that had taken everything
they knew and cared about: their homes, their livelihoods … and, of course, their mother.

What Bordon and his sons didn’t see was that these nameless soldiers couldn’t be held responsible for all the horrors and tragedies that had brought their world crashing down. Whatever their crimes, these two didn’t deserve to be made accountable for the actions of Kaan and his Brotherhood. It was the Sith Masters, the followers of the dark side, who were truly to blame. Yet as he looked into the boys’ hate-filled stares, he knew there was no hope of making them understand. Not while all that they had suffered was still fresh in their minds.

Johun had come to Ruusan to hunt down any members of the Brotherhood who might have survived the thought bomb. He intended to continue the work of General Hoth—his Master and mentor—and eliminate the Lords of the Sith, ending the threat of the dark side forever. Now, however, he recognized a greater mission: He had to save Bordon and his sons from themselves.

These were honest, decent people. But driven by hate and anger, they would butcher their helpless foes in cold blood if he didn’t stop them. Johun knew that once their anger faded, the memory of their bloody vengeance would haunt them. Guilt and self-loathing would eat away at Bordon and his boys until it eventually destroyed them. Johun wasn’t about to let that happen.

Turning his attention back to Irtanna, he saw hate in her eyes as well. However, hers was a cold, calculated emotion—a professional soldier regarding an enemy. He recognized she wouldn’t kill prisoners on her own, but she also wouldn’t do anything to stop the others. And he knew what he had to do.

“This isn’t why Farfalla sent you,” he reminded the pilot in a low voice. “You’re supposed to be helping the survivors.”

Irtanna eyed him suspiciously but didn’t say anything.
Johun was reluctant to use the Force to bend her will to his own again. Subconsciously she might be more aware of his interference a second time and more likely to resist. Besides, it was important that she truly believe in what he was telling her. Compelling her obedience was a temporary solution, and one that could ultimately cause her to resent or mistrust him and the rest of the Jedi.

“Let me out and I’ll take the mercenaries into custody,” Johun said, offering up a plan. “Contact the fleet, and they’ll send another ship to pick up the three of us.”

The words weren’t easy for him to say. He’d defied Farfalla—a Jedi Master—to come to this world. The last thing he wanted was to leave Ruusan now, so soon after arriving. Yet he was willing to make that sacrifice if it would prevent Bordon and his sons from giving in to their rash and reckless emotions. It was his duty as a Jedi to protect their lives, even if it meant abandoning his own personal crusade.

“You and the others should take the shuttle and head south to the battlefield,” he continued. “Go help the injured. That’s what you’re here for.”

Irtanna hesitated, then gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. Johun was barely more than a boy; the long thin braid in his hair clearly marked that he had not yet completed his Padawan training. But he was still a member of the Jedi Order. That counted for a lot among the Republic troops. He’d been relying on that to help her see the wisdom of his words.

Confident that Irtanna would keep Bordon and his sons out of trouble, Johun got up from his chair and made his way to the rear of the
Star-Wake
. He did his best to ignore the accusing eyes of the two angry young men as he waited for the shuttle’s exit hatch to open. When it finally did, he leapt out and landed nimbly on the ground, then made his way quickly toward the pair standing patiently nearby, their hands still raised high
above their heads. Once he was clear of the vessel, the engines roared to life and the ship lifted into the air and took off … much to the dismay of the two mercenaries.

“Where are they going?” the woman demanded, her voice a high-pitched squeak of panic. “No! They can’t leave us here!”

Her arms dropped back to her sides, as did her companion’s. For a second Johun worried that they might make a move for their weapons, but then he realized they were too distraught over the
Star-Wake
’s exit to even think about attacking him.

“Don’t let them go!” the man shouted, turning away from Johun to watch as the craft flew off and out of sight, then whirling back to implore the young Jedi once more. “Make them turn around! Tell them to come back!” There was a desperate urgency in his voice that mirrored the tone of his companion.

“Don’t worry,” the young Jedi assured them. “Another ship is on the way.”

“We can’t stay here,” the woman insisted. “There’s no time. He’ll find us.
He’ll find us!”

“It’s okay,” Johun explained, holding up a calming hand. “I can protect you. I’m a Jedi.”

The woman raised an eyebrow and gave him a skeptical glance. The slight young man widened his stance, placed his hands on his hips, and thrust out his chest, hoping it would make him appear noble and impressive. He tried to project the image of confident self-assurance he’d often admired in Hoth and the other Masters.

The man grabbed Johun by the arm, tugging it like a child clinging to his mother’s apron. “We have to get off this planet,” he said, the words coming out in a terrified whisper. “We have to go now!”

Johun shook free of the man’s grasp with only minor difficulty. There was something unsettling about this whole encounter. From the way these two were dressed,
it was clear they were experienced soldiers for hire. He suspected they were deserters from the recent battle—minions of the Sith who had fled the instant the Army of Light had broken their ranks. But their flight would have been an act of opportunistic preservation rather than fear or cowardice. Still, these combat veterans, accustomed to facing death and bloodshed, were acting like traumatized villagers after a slaver raid.

“Even if you are a Jedi, you can’t save us,” the woman muttered with a slow shake of her head. “You can’t protect us from
him
.”

“Who?” Johun wanted to know. “Who are you talking about?”

The man glanced around quickly, as if he was afraid someone might be listening. “A Dark Lord of the Sith,” he hissed.

“One of the Brotherhood?” Johun asked, barely able to contain his eagerness. “Are you saying a Sith Master survived the thought bomb?”

The man nodded. “He killed Lergan and Hansh. Fried them with lightning from his fingers.”

I knew it!
Johun thought triumphantly.
I knew it!

“He had a lightsaber, too,” the woman added. “Sliced Pad and Derrin wide open.” She hesitated for a moment, shuddering at the memory. “Rell got his head cut clean off.”

Johun was about to ask for more details, but the sound of a rapidly approaching ship momentarily distracted him. He glanced up to see a Bivouac troop transport swooping in for a landing. Seconds after it touched down, three Republic soldiers jumped out, weapons at the ready. He recognized the senior officer in the trio: Major Orten Ledes, one of the highest-ranking non-Jedi in the Army of Light’s Second Legion.

“These the prisoners?” the major asked gruffly, pointing his blaster rifle at the mercenaries.

Johun nodded. Ledes gave a tilt of his head, and his subordinates moved in quickly to slap restraints on the enemy soldiers. Neither made any attempt to resist. Once their wrists were secured they were frisked and stripped of their weapons, then marched off toward the vessel. The whole encounter was conducted with the efficiency and competence that were the hallmarks of all troops serving under Major Ledes’s command.

“You picked up Irtanna’s message?” Johun asked as he watched the Sith minions being led away.

“We were in the area,” the officer replied. “Farfalla sent me to come get you.”

Something in his tone caught the young Jedi’s attention. “Am I in trouble?”

The officer shrugged. “Hard to say. You Jedi tend to keep a tight rein on your emotions. But I bet the general wasn’t too happy when he found out you disobeyed a direct order and snuck down here.”

“Don’t worry,” Johun replied confidently. “He’ll change his tune when he hears what those prisoners have to tell him.”

Bane throttled back the swoop bike’s engine as they approached the small clearing that served as the
Valcyn
’s landing site. Originally presented as a gift to Lord Qordis, the vessel had been commandeered by Bane when he left the Academy on Korriban to seek out the knowledge of the ancient Sith. Qordis had never dared to try to take it back, and his cowardice had simply confirmed Bane’s decision to abandon his studies and turn his back on the Brotherhood.

He brought the swoop to a stop twenty meters from the ship. Zannah released her grip on his waist and jumped off, then stood staring at the vessel.

Bane wasn’t paying attention to her; the last ten minutes he’d had trouble focusing on anything but the pain
carving up his skull. He’d hoped delving into the depths of the shimmering orb left behind by the thought bomb might somehow relieve the headaches, but if anything they’d gotten worse since their visit to the cave.

At least he’d been able to confirm that Kaan was truly dead. That made it easier for him to dismiss the ghostly form that materialized just then on the far side of the clearing. Pale beneath the late-afternoon sun, it was undeniably the image of the man who had founded the Brotherhood of Darkness.

Bane knew it was nothing but a hallucination, yet there was something compelling about the figure as it crossed the clearing to stop a meter or so away from the ship. The spirit turned and fixed him with a steady gaze, then reached out a beckoning hand.

“She’s beautiful,” Zannah breathed. Darth Bane snapped his head around in surprise. But his apprentice was staring raptly at the
Valcyn
herself. When Bane turned his attention back to where Kaan had been standing, the specter had vanished once again.

“I never thought I’d be leaving Ruusan in a ship like this,” Zannah said.

“You aren’t,” Bane said as he stepped off the swoop. There was nothing he could do about the hallucinations other than act as if they didn’t exist.

The young girl turned to look back at him, confused. “We’re not taking your ship?”

“I am,” her Master replied. “But you must find your own way off this world.”

It took a moment for his words to register with the girl. When they did, her expression became one of utter shock. “I … I can’t come with you?”

The big man shook his head. Spurred on by Zannah’s discovery of the ancient tome in the Sith camp, he’d come up with a plan. He was heading to Dxun, Onderon’s oversized moon, to seek out the lost tomb of
Freedon Nadd. But he had other ideas for his apprentice.

“But … why not? What did I do?” the young girl choked out, clearly on the verge of tears. “Why are you leaving me?”

“This is part of your training,” Bane explained. “To understand the dark side you must suffer through hardship and struggle.”

“You don’t have to abandon me to make me suffer,” she countered. “Take me with you.”

“The strength of the dark side lies with the power of the individual,” he reminded her. “The Force comes from within. You must learn to draw on it yourself. I will not always be there to teach you.”

“But you said there were always two,” Zannah insisted. “One to embody the power, the other to crave it!”

She learned quickly, and Bane was pleased to see she had already committed so many of his lessons to memory. But reciting the words meant nothing if she didn’t understand the truth behind them.

“Why do you follow me?” he asked, posing a question to lead her down the path of wisdom.

Zannah thought about her answer for several seconds, carefully considering everything he had already taught her. “To unleash my full potential,” she said at last. “To learn the ways of the dark side.”

Bane nodded. “And when I no longer have anything to teach you? What will happen then?”

Her brow furrowed in concentration, but this time the answer wouldn’t come. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted.

“There will come a time when your training ends,” he told her. “There will come a day when you have learned all the lessons, when all my knowledge of the dark side will be yours. On that day you will challenge me for the
title of Master, and only one of us will survive the encounter.”

The girl’s eyes opened wide. Then they narrowed as she focused intently on what he was saying.

“You have the potential to surpass me,” he continued. “If you achieve your potential I will cease to be of use to you. You will need to find new sources of knowledge. You will have to seek out a new apprentice so that you may pass on the secrets of the Sith Order to another.

“When your power eclipses mine I will become expendable. This is the Rule of Two: one Master and one apprentice. When you are ready to claim the mantle of Dark Lord as your own, you must do so by eliminating me.

“The confrontation is inevitable,” he concluded. “It is the only way the Sith can survive. It is the way of the dark side.”