Caleb had understood this. He had tried to teach her. But she had failed him, and it had cost her everything.
"I'm sorry, Father," she whispered, reaching up to wipe a tear from her eye. "Now I understand."
What was done could not be undone. She would have to live with the burden of her crimes. But going forward she would not allow herself to be seduced by the dark side again. Whatever fate awaited her, whatever consequence or punishment befell her, she would accept it with stoic calm and quiet strength.
I am still my father's daughter.
Bane was well aware how close he had come to dying at Zannah's hand in the Stone Prison. Yet he was still alive, proof of his enduring strength and power. He had gone in a prisoner, but he had emerged more powerful than when he had entered. Andeddu's Holocron may have been lost, most likely buried forever in the dungeon's collapse, but he had already claimed its most precious knowledge: the secret of essence transfer. And though his apprentice was still alive, he might just have found her replacement.
He studied the Iktotchi carefully as she worked the shuttle's controls, making subtle adjustments to keep them on course as they left the calm vacuum of space and descended into the turbulence of Ambria's atmosphere.
She had told him her name was the Huntress, and that she had spent the past five years as a freelance assassin, honing her ability to identify and exploit weakness in her targets. It was hard to argue with the results; in her brief encounters with Bane she had already demonstrated both notable ambition and incredible potential. Her achievements were even more impressive when one considered that she had never been given any formal training in the ways of the Force. Everything she did came from natural ability. Pure instinct. Raw power.
Her ability to disrupt the Force in others only gave further testament to her strength. She had never been trained in this rare and difficult technique; she simply unleashed it against her enemies through sheer force of wilclass="underline" crude but effective.
However, it was her other talent that truly intrigued the Dark Lord.
"How did you track me to Ciutric?" he asked as the shuttle dropped down toward the planet's desert surface.
"My visions," the Huntress explained. "If I concentrate, they allow me to see images: people, places. Sometimes I catch glimpses of the future, though they do not always come true."
"The future is never static," Bane told her. "It is constantly shaped by the Force:and those with the power to control the Force."
"Sometimes I also see visions of the past. Memories of what was. I saw you here on Ambria. With a young blond woman."
"My apprentice."
"She still lives?"
"For now."
On the horizon they could see the first light of Ambria's sun stretching out toward them. As the bright yellow beams fell across the nose of the shuttle, Bane couldn't help but wonder how far the Iktotchi's abilities could extend if she was given proper instruction and guidance.
He had the wisdom to interpret events and foresee their most likely outcome, but he rarely experienced true visions of the future. He was able to manipulate the galaxy around him, driving it inexorably toward a time in which all bowed down to the Sith, but it was a struggle to keep everything on course. His long-term plans to wipe out the Jedi and rule the galaxy were in a constant state of flux, reacting to unexpected and completely unforeseeable events that altered the social and political landscape.
Each time this happened, Bane had to retreat and regroup until he was able to evaluate and properly react to the changes¬. But if the Huntress could learn to properly harness her power, the Sith would no longer be limited only to reacting. They could anticipate and predict these random changes, preparing for them long before they happened.
And there was an even greater possibility. Bane knew fate was not preordained. There were many possible futures, and the Force allowed her to see only examples of what might be. If she could learn to sort through her visions, separating out the various divergent time lines, was it possible she could actually control them, too? Could she one day have the power to alter the future simply by thinking about it? Could she use the power of the Force to shape the very fabric of existence and make her chosen visions become reality?
"In the hangar you said you were waiting for me," Bane noted, anxious to get a better understanding of her talent. "Your visions told you I was coming?"
"Not exactly. I had a sense of:something. I could feel the significance of the moment, though I didn't know what would happen. My instincts told me it would be to my benefit to wait."
Bane nodded. "Are your instincts ever wrong?"
"Rarely."
"Is that why we're here on Ambria? Your visions-your instincts-told you Caleb's daughter would come here?"
"The princess met me here when she hired me to find you," the assassin replied. "This place haunts her. I didn't need a vision to know this was where she would run."
The Dark Lord smiled. She was smart as well as powerful.
A few minutes later the ship touched down on the edge of Caleb's camp, landing beside a small escape shuttle.
Disembarking from the craft, Bane was reminded of the power trapped within Ambria's surface. The Force had once devastated this world before its power was trapped by an ancient Jedi Master in the depths of Lake Natth. Now the planet was a nexus of both dark and light side power.
He noticed a freshly dug grave a few meters off to one side, but he didn't give it a second glance. The dead were of no consequence to him.
With long, purposeful steps he made his way across the camp toward the dilapidated shack. The Huntress followed at his side, matching him stride for stride.
Before he reached his destination, however, the princess emerged from the hut to confront him. She was unarmed and alone, but unlike their last meeting in the prison cell, he didn't sense any fear in her this time. There was a sense of serenity about her, a tranquility that reminded Bane of his first meeting with her father.
Bane's own mood had changed as well. He was no longer driven by an unquenchable desire for bloody vengeance. In the Stone Prison he had needed to draw strength from his anger to survive and defeat his enemies. Here, however, he was in no danger. Afforded the luxury of careful consideration, he had realized that there was no need to kill her:not if he could make use of her skills.
They stood face-to-face, staring at each other, neither speaking. In the end, it was Serra who broke the silence.
"Did you see the grave when you landed? I buried Lucia there last night."
When Bane didn't respond, she slowly reached up and wiped a single tear away from her eye before continuing.
"She saved your life. Don't you even care that she's dead?"
"The dead have no value to the living," he told her.
"She was your friend."
"Whatever she was is gone. Now she is nothing but decaying flesh and bone."
"She didn't deserve this. Her death was:pointless."
"Your father's death was pointless," Bane said. "He had a valuable skill; twice he saved my life when no other could have healed me. Had it been my choice I would have left him alive in case I ever needed his services a third time."
"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.