Zannah actually laughed at the suggestion. Helton's eyes narrowed momentarily, stung by her reaction.
"I have more resources at my disposal than you might imagine," he said, raising his hand and snapping his fingers.
Two of his red-cloaked guards appeared beside him, seeming to materialized out of thin air. Zannah let her hand drop to her lightsaber, wondering if she had been lured into a trap. She couldn't figure out where the guards had suddenly come from; even if they were somehow cloaked, she should have been able to sense their presence through the Force.
The guards made no move to attack her, however, and a second later she relaxed once more and looked questioningly at Hetton.
"As I told you before, I have recruited a number of individuals with unique and specialized talents to my side," he explained. "Included among them are eight former students of the Sith Academy on Umbara."
Through Bane, Zannah knew those students sent to Umbara were trained in stealth and assassination, learning to use the Force to mask their presence from all manner of detection. That was why she had been unable to sense them in the room.
"Should you accept me as your apprentice, my guards will swear fealty to you as well," Hetton told her. "You will have a squad of eight unstoppable, undetectable killers at your command."
Zannah was silent for several minutes, thinking about everything he had said.
"We cannot risk the Jedi learning of our existence," she warned at last. "If you become my apprentice, you must leave all this behind."
"I could not stay here much longer anyway," Hetton reminded her. "It won't be long before the Great Houses discover I am the founder of the Anti-Republic Liberation Front. They will seize my assets and condemn me for a traitor.
"I have already begun the process of transferring my library onto datacards in preparation for my flight."
In her mind Zannah weighed all she knew of Darth Bane's strength and power against Hetton and his eight Shadow Assassins, trying to determine which side had the upper hand. In the end she couldn't accurately predict who would survive such an encounter, but she decided she wanted to find out.
"How soon can you and your assassins be ready?"
"We can leave within the hour."
"And after Bane is dead we will go to Tython?"
"If that is your wish, Master," Hetton said with a bow.
Chapter 15
Night had fallen over Ambria, but Bane was not interested in sleep. Instead he was sitting cross-legged in what remained of their camp, waiting for Zannah to return with supplies so they could rebuild. As he waited, he meditated on his most recent failure with the Holocron.
The dilemma offered no easy solution. If he pushed himself too hard, his body would betray him, causing him to make mistakes during the precise adjustments of the Holocron's matrix. If he went slowly, conserving his strength, he would be unable to finish before the cognitive network began to degrade. The two factors worked at cross purposes, and Bane had racked his mind to find a way to balance the requirements of both time and effort.
His most recent attempt had pushed his power to its limits, bringing him to the edge of complete exhaustion. Yet even if he hadn't made the critical error that caused the matrix to collapse, he doubted he would have been able to complete the final adjustments in time.
The more he contemplated the process, the more frustrated he became. He had failed on both sides of the spectrum, unable to finish in the allotted time and lacking the necessary strength to complete his task without error.
Was it possible there was some other essential element in the process that he was missing? Was there one more secret waiting to be unlocked that would finally allow him to create a Holocron so he could pass his wisdom and knowledge on to his successors? Or was the failure in him? Did he simply lack power? Was his command of the dark side somehow less than that of the ancient Sith Lords like Freedon Nadd?
It was an uncomfortable line of speculation, but it was one Bane forced himself to consider. He had read the histories of the great Sith Lords; many were filled with feats almost too incredible to be believed. Yet even if these accounts were true, even if some of his predecessors had had the ability to use the dark side to destroy entire worlds or make a sun go nova, Bane still felt that his power measured up to the described abilities of many of those who had successfully created Holocrons of their own.
But how much of your power is wasted on the parasites infesting your body?
The question sprang unbidden to his mind, posed not in his own voice but that of his apprentice. Zannah had expressed her concerns about the effect the orbalisks might be having on him; it was possible she was right.
He had always believed the drawbacks of the orbalisks-the constant pain, the disfiguring appearance-to be offset by the benefits they provided. They healed him, made him physically stronger, and protected him against all manner of weapons. Now he began to question that belief. While it was true that he could channel his power through the creatures for a temporary increase in his abilities, over the long term they might actually be weakening him. They were constantly feeding on the dark side energies that flowed through his veins. Was it possible that, after a decade of infestation, his ability to draw upon the Force had been subtly diminished?
It was an idea he would have once dismissed out of hand. But his continued failure with the Holocrons had forced him to reevaluate his symbiotic relationship with the strange crustaceans. He could feel them even now, feeding, drawing on the Force that flowed through his veins.
The orbalisks suddenly became agitated. They twitched and trembled against his flesh; he felt their insatiable hunger growing as if in response to the nearby presence of a fresh source of dark side power. Bane glanced around, expecting to see Zannah approaching the camp beneath the brightness of the full moon. He saw nothing; he sensed nothing-not even the small creatures and insects that came out at night to hunt for food, flying overhead or crawling across the sand. The normal awareness he had of the ambient world around him seemed strangely muted or… masked!
He leapt to his feet and drew his lightsaber, the blade blazing to life with a crackling hiss. A burst of red light exploded around him, illuminating the darkness and burning away the illusions cloaking his unseen enemies.
Eight red-robed figures surrounded the camp, their identities hidden by the visors of their helmets. Each carried a long metal rod that Bane recognized as a force pike, the traditional weapon of the Umbaran Shadow Assassins.
Specially trained in the art of killing Force-sensitive adversaries, Shadow Assassins preferred to rely on stealth and surprise. Exposed by Bane's energy burst, they suddenly found their greatest advantage taken away. And even though there were eight of them, Bane never hesitated.
He leapt forward and cut the first red-robed figure down before he-or she-had a chance to react, a single slash of his lightsaber bisecting the unfortunate opponent horizontally, just above the waist.
The other seven swarmed him, thrusting their force pikes forward to deliver the deadly electrical charge stored in the tips. Bane never even bothered to parry the incoming blows, relying on his orbalisk armor to protect him as he adopted a strategy of pure offense.
His unexpected tactics caught two more of the assassins completely unprepared, and they walked right into a sweeping two-handed cut that disemboweled them both.
The remaining five struck Bane almost simultaneously, their force pikes sending a million volts of current through his body. The orbalisks absorbed most of the charge, but enough filtered through to jolt him from his teeth down to his toes.
The Dark Lord staggered and fell to his knees. But instead of rushing in to finish him off, the assassins simply stood their ground. The idea that anything smaller than a bantha could withstand a direct hit from a force pike set to maximum charge-let alone five pikes at the same time-was inconceivable. Their miscalculation gave Bane the second he needed to shake off the effects and rise to his feet, much to the amazement and horror of his enemies.