Rule of Two by Drew Karpyshyn
However, Nadd’s research also warned of several dangerous side effects of infestation that went beyond the constant physical pain. Should one of the organisms somehow be killed, it would release rapidly increasing levels of toxins, killing its host in a matter of days. The orbalisks would also grow over time, slowly spreading until they covered his entire body from head to toe. Fortunately, along with this disturbing revelation, Bane discovered blueprints for a special helmet and face guard designed to keep the parasites from growing over his eyes, nose, and mouth while he slept.
But the orbalisk research was only the beginning. Freedon Nadd had been a Jedi who turned to the dark side as the apprentice of Naga Sadow, the former ruler of the ancient Sith Empire. Sadow’s power had been so great, it had allowed him to survive for six centuries, fueled by the energies of the dark side. As his apprentice, Nadd had absorbed all his knowledge and teachings, transferring them into the Holocron before murdering Sadow and taking his place.
Not surprisingly, most of the information inside the Holocron was hidden, locked away in the depths of its crystalline structure where it could be accessed only through time, meditation, and careful study. It would take many months, maybe even years, before Bane could lay claim to its greatest secrets. And right now there were more immediate concerns he needed to deal with.
Storing the Holocron safely away, he ventured forth from the crypt to find a way to escape the surface of Dxun. The specters of Kaan and Qordis were waiting for him outside.
“You are trapped here,” Qordis said, falling immediately into his litany of failure and despair. “What good is the Holocron if you can never leave this moon?”
Bane reached inward to call upon the dark side, drawing it not only from himself but also from the orbalisks fastened to his chest and back. Feeling an incredible surge of power beyond any he had known before, he released it in a burst of energy. The hallucinations that had plagued his wounded mind ever since the detonation of the thought bomb vanished, instantly and utterly annihilated by his newfound power. He was stronger now than he ever had been, and he knew the visions of the dead Sith would haunt him no more.
Liberated from his tormentors, he still had to find a way off of Dxun. When he stared up into the sky he could see Onderon looming large above him, the planet so close to its moon that their atmospheres had occasionally passed through each other in centuries past. For a brief window of time, this had allowed the great flying beasts of Dxun to migrate to the other world, where some had been tamed and trained to become the fearsome mounts of Onderon’s fabled beast-rider clans.
Staring up at the world that was almost near enough to touch, Bane could sense Zannah’s imminent arrival there. Soon she would touch down on the dangerous and often deadly planet, and if her Master wasn’t there with her, it was unlikely she would survive.
As he continued to gaze up he noticed an enormous winged creature circling high above, hunting for food. At the same time, the hunter noticed him. Folding its wide leathery wings tight against its body, it dropped into a dive headed straight for Bane.
He regarded the creature with a cool, analytical precision as it plummeted toward him. From the Holocron he knew it was called a drexl, one of the reptilian predators that ruled the skies of Dxun. Their appearance resembled that of a winged lizard: scaled, violet skin; a long, thick tail; and heavily muscled body and legs. A blunt, oversized head sat atop an extended, sinewy neck. It had tiny avian eyes; a flat, pushed-in snout; and a wide jaw full of jagged yellow teeth. Bane estimated this particular specimen to be ten meters in length from nose to tail with a wingspan of nearly twenty meters—a full-grown male easily large enough to suit his needs.
An instant before the beast swooped in to snatch him up with its razor-sharp talons, he reached out with the Force and touched the drexl’s mind, attempting to dominate the brute’s will with his own. He had done this once before, to a rancor on the dying world of Lehon. But the drexl’s mind was stronger than he anticipated, and the beast shrugged off his efforts as it let loose a bloodcurdling shriek and slammed into him.
One of the drexl’s feet lunged forward to impale him with its enormous claws, only to be deflected by the impenetrable orbalisk carapace on his chest. Instead of being skewered and carried away, Bane was sent flying backward by the momentum of the creature’s dive. He hit the ground and rolled several times before springing back to his feet, uninjured thanks to his newfound physical prowess.
He saw the drexl swooping back up toward the sky, readying itself for a second attempt to dive down and seize its prey. Bane reached out to touch its mind again, bringing his will down with the crushing force of the sledgehammers he’d used in the mining tunnels of Apatros.
The drexl’s body shuddered under the impact of his mental assault, and it screamed a piercing cry of protest that split the sky and reverberated over the treetops. This time, however, Bane succeeded in his efforts to subjugate the beast’s thoughts to his own.
It circled twice more before coming in to land beside him. At an unspoken command from its new Master, it crouched and allowed Bane to climb atop its back. An instant later it spread its wings and took to the air, climbing higher and higher.
Bane pushed his mount, urging it into the uppermost reaches of the breathable atmosphere. Above them the nearby world of Onderon grew in size until it completely filled the horizon. Only a few hundred kilometers separated Dxun from its neighbor, an insignificant sliver of distance on the scale of worlds and solar systems.
Already he could feel the faint gravitational pull of Onderon trying to draw them in, the larger planet’s mass battling for dominance with that of its slightly smaller satellite. Driven by Bane’s relentless will, the drexl pumped its wings furiously, gaining speed and elevation with every beat.
Bane began to summon the Force, letting it build until the last possible instant. Then, gathering the dark side around him and his mount like a protective cloak, he spurred the drexl forward, and a second later they broke free of Dxun’s atmosphere and plunged into the frozen vacuum of space that separated him from Onderon and freedom.
9
The sound of the Star-Wake’s autonav update jarred Zannah awake from a restless slumber. She had curled herself awkwardly into the pilot’s chair, and now her neck was stiff from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. There were plenty of places to lie down and stretch out properly in the cargo hold at the back, but Zannah couldn’t sleep in there. Not with all the bodies.
She had removed Wend and Irtanna from the cockpit in the first few minutes after their deaths. It had been a struggle getting Wend out of his chair, but her adrenaline levels had still been high from the confrontation with Irtanna and she had managed to drag him down the hall to the cargo hold where his father and brother lay.
Relocating Irtanna had been more difficult. She had a soldier’s physique, lean and muscular, and easily weighed twice what Zannah did. At first the girl hadn’t even been able to budge the corpse. By the time she realized she would have to call upon the Force to aid her, the excitement of the moment was gone. In the aftermath she’d found it much more difficult to summon the dark side; each time she tried to draw upon her inner anger, her conscience had fought against her. Instead of the familiar heat of power, she’d felt only guilt and doubt. Images of Bordon and his sons lying side by side on the cargo room’s floor had clouded her thoughts, making it difficult for her to concentrate.
Zannah had tried to block the images and allow the dark side to flow through her, but she’d been only partly successful. In the end she had relied more on determination and sweat than the power of the Force. Grunting and straining, she had eventually managed to drag Irtanna for half a meter before having to stop and catch her breath. She had repeated the process again and again, slowly pulling the body down the ship’s corridor until Irtanna lay beside the others.
There had been very little blood; apart from the first glancing shot to Bordon’s gut, all the wounds had been cauterized by the heat of
In the ensuing seven days she had been both praying for and dreading an end to her journey, when she would be reunited with her Master and begin her training in the ways of the Sith. She never left the cockpit except to use the ship’s refresher. Whenever she tried to sleep, she could never manage more than a fitful doze plagued with nightmares in which she relived her killing spree over and over.
Each time she woke she would tear open a ration kit and pick at the food, her body slowly replenishing what it had lost during her weeks on Ruusan. But the rations were meant for a full-grown adult, and she could never finish them. When she was done, she would toss the uneaten portion along with the container down the hall toward the cargo hold. After a few days the smells of a dozen half-finished meals began to mingle into a sickly sweet aroma that hung like a thin curtain in the air. Zannah actually welcomed the cloying scent of rotting food; it covered up the mounting stench of the decaying bodies in the back.
To fight the boredom, she’d tried to imagine what her future would be like as Bane’s apprentice. She would focus on everything he’d promised her: the ability to call upon and command the Force at will; the mysterious secrets of the dark side; the power to reach her true potential and fulfill her destiny. Her mind, however, kept returning to the Star-Wake’s dead crew. And each time it happened she wondered what her Master would think about such weakness.
The autonav chimed again. Zannah glanced at the readout: The ship would be entering atmosphere in five minutes. She was being prompted to select landing coordinates.
Zannah sat up straight in the pilot’s chair, furrowing her brow as she studied the onscreen display. She’d been hoping that the automated systems that had carried the vessel from Ruusan to Onderon would also be programmed to land. Unfortunately, it seemed that task now fell to her … and she had no idea how to bring the ship down safely.
She punched a button on the screen labeled LANDING ZONES. A long list of unfamiliar locations and coordinates began to scroll across the display. She had no clue what any of the numbers meant, and no idea how to select one anyway.
As she stared at the readout—they were entering atmosphere now—Zannah felt the familiar bump of turbulence. Caught between frustration and panic, she reached out and began randomly poking buttons. She stopped only when the autonav beeped twice: Destination accepted.
Heaving a sigh of relief, she collapsed back into her seat and buckled up for touchdown. She tried to peer over the console to get a view through the cockpit window of where she was headed, but she was too short to see clearly. All she could make out was kilometers of thick, green canopy stretching out in every direction. Evidently she had selected a landing zone in a less civilized part of the world.
A sobering question crossed her mind. Does the autopilot know how to land in the middle of a forest? Or will it smash me to bits against the treetops?
As if reading her thoughts, the autonav chimed angrily. Zannah read the update: “Suboptimal conditions detected at selected landing zone. Seeking nearest available alternative site.”
She felt the ship bank slightly, veering and leveling off to skim the forest in search of a large-enough clearing to land in.
“Alternative landing zone located,” the screen assured her a few moments later, and she felt the nose dip as the vessel began her final descent.
She heard a loud bang and the heavy, staccato pounding of branches striking the exterior of the hull as the Star-Wake plowed through a thin layer of branches en route to her chosen destination on the surface. A second later the ship rocked hard to one side, deflecting off a tree trunk too thick to smash through. Next came a series of heavy, jarring thumps as the ship skipped and skidded across the ground before finally coming to a stop.
Shaken but uninjured, Zannah undid her safety harness and opened the exit hatch. As she descended the vessel’s loading ramp, she noticed she was on one end of a large clearing that had been carved from the forest to create a circle nearly two hundred meters in diameter. Much to her surprise, someone was in the middle of the clearing waving her over.
“Whoever’s flying that ship of yours must be the worst pilot in the galaxy,” the man said, eyeing her up and down as she approached him and stopped a few meters away.
He looked to be in his late twenties, though it was hard to tell because of his scrawny and somewhat scraggly appearance. His long copper-colored hair was full of mats and tangles, and his red beard was patchy and uneven across his grimy face. He wore loose pants and a torn shirt that might have been white beneath the mud and other unidentifiable stains. Over the shirt he wore a short leather vest that was fraying at the edges, and a pair of heavily scuffed boots. He gave off a sour odor.
“What’s the matter, girlie?” he asked. “You don’t speak Basic? I said whoever’s flying your ship is the worst pilot I ever saw.”
“Nobody’s flying it,” Zannah answered carefully, glancing back at the ship that was now a good thirty meters behind her. “She was set on auto.”
“That explains it,” he said with a nod. “Auto’s only good at landing on a permacrete runway. Not worth bantha poodoo out here.”
The man took a step toward her, and Zannah instinctively took a step back. There was something very wrong about finding this man waiting for her at the heart of a clearing in the middle of the forest. But she wasn’t worried about the strangeness of the situation. Instead her mind was desperately trying to think of a way to keep him from discovering the bodies in the Star-Wake’s cargo hold.
“Why you using the autopilot out here, girlie? You don’t got a pilot on that ship with you?”
Zannah shook her head. “No. There’s nobody else on board. Just me.”
“Just you?” he said with an arched eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“I stole it,” she said defiantly. Maybe if she could convince him she had been alone on the vessel, he wouldn’t go in and find the bodies.
The man let out a low chuckle. “Stole it, you say?” Then, in a louder voice he called out, “Looks like we got ourselves a thief!”
A dozen men and women stepped out from the thick trees on the edges of the wide clearing the Star-Wake had landed in. They were all human, and most of them seemed to be about the same age as the redhead Zannah had first spoken with. Like him, they were clad in a motley assortment of soiled, ragged clothing. Several of the new arrivals had appeared from behind the redhead, but more than a few had emerged from the trees on the other side of the clearing behind Zannah, effectively cutting her off from her ship. And, unlike the man who had first greeted her, the newcomers were all armed with vibroblades or blaster rifles.
“How … how did you find me?” she demanded, glancing from side to side as she began to realize she was surrounded.
“Scouts saw your ship flying over our territory,” the redhead answered. “Figured if you were looking for a place to touch down, you’d end up here on our landing pad.”
“Landing pad?” Zannah repeated in surprise, momentarily distracted from her dangerous situation. “You made this place so ships could land here?”
“Who said anything about ships?” the man answered with a sly grin. He put two fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle so loud and shrill it made Zannah wince.
The air above was filled with the sound of a great roaring wind, and a dark shadow blotted out the sun
“You’re beast-riders,” she gasped, remembering Tallo’s warning when she’d first mentioned Onderon.
“Skelda clan,” the man said. “And like I already told you, you’re in our territory.”
“I’m … I’m sorry,” Zannah said. “I didn’t know.”
The man shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if you knew or not. You want to use a Skelda clan landing pad, you got to pay us for the privilege.”
From the corner of her eye Zannah noticed his companions slowly drawing in tighter around her.
“I don’t have any money,” she said, taking a half step backward.
“That’s okay,” the man replied nonchalantly. “We’ll just take your ship.”
Zannah spun on her heel and tried to run for the forest as the man lunged for her. He’d been expecting her to make a break for it, and he was quick. He was on her after only a few steps, tackling her from behind. He knocked her to the ground, his weight slamming her to the hard dirt. And the next instant he was flying backward through the air.
He hit the ground with a hard grunt, the wind knocked out of him as he landed on his side five meters away. Zannah scrambled back to her feet. The other members of his clan had rushed forward when she started to run; now they all took a quick step back, weapons raised high above their heads. They were staring at her with wide-eyed expressions of fear and disbelief.
She turned back to the leader when she heard him laughing. He picked himself up off the ground and winked at her.
“Looks like we got ourselves a little Jedi in training,” he said, loud enough for his companions to hear. “What brought you to Onderon, little Jedi? Decided to run away from your Master?”