He recalled that Farfalla had used a golden blade, just like the one the man had attacked them with. The lightsabers here were trophies, taken from those who had died on Tython by their killer. The man outside was young, but the Jedi were taught that the dark side led to quick and easy power-power enough to kill Farfalla and the others, especially if they'd been led into some type of trap. The Sith had slain the Jedi and claimed their weapons, though he must have suffered grievous injuries in the battle, including the loss of his hand.
He had probably tried to call on the power of the dark side to heal himself. But the Jedi Master knew the dark side couldn't heal; it only caused harm. The misguided attempt was likely what damaged the young man's mind. Wounded and half mad, he had come to Ambria to seek aid from the healer. By the time he arrived at this place he would have been near death, and completely helpless.
That's when Caleb must have dispatched the message drone to warn the Jedi.
A Sith Lord still lives. He killed five Jedi on Tython. He is now on Ambria, under the care of a healer named Caleb. He is badly injured and helpless.
He must have sensed who and what the young man was as he healed his horrific injuries. But Caleb had underestimated the Sith Lord's power-and the degenerating state of his madness. Before the Jedi could arrive, the Sith had recovered enough to torture and kill Caleb for exposing him. The healer's prolonged and visceral death must have further fueled the young man's psychosis, reducing him to the raving creature that had lunged at them from the hut.
All the pieces fit. It all made sense.
"Master," one of the other Jedi said, peeking in through the door. "The rest of the camp is deserted."
"What about the ship? The Lorandar
"Nobody on board," he reported. "It looks like somebody sabotaged her before we got here."
Probably Caleb, Tho'natu realized. He wanted to make sure the Sith couldn't escape. If the young man had found out, that could explain the brutality of Caleb's death.
"It would probably only take two or three days to make the repairs," the Jedi informed him.
"Leave it for the junkers," the Twi'lek said with a shake of his head. There were only two things he wanted to bring back from this accursed place. "Collect the healer's remains. We'll give him a proper burial on Coruscant."
The man nodded and scurried off to relay his orders.
Master Tho'natu bent over and gathered up the lightsabers of his fallen comrades from Tython, so they could be given a place of honor in the Temple. The loss of Farfalla and his companions was a terrible tragedy, as was what had happened here. But at least he could go back to the Jedi Council and tell them with absolute certainty that the last of the Sith Lords had died on Ambria.
He exited the small shack and headed back to his ship, knowing that the memories of the gruesome massacre on Ambria would haunt him for the rest of his life. He never thought to examine the small sleeping mat in the corner. He never noticed the trapdoor built into the floor beneath it. And he never sensed the apprentice and her unconscious Master, masked by Sith sorcery, hiding silently in the cellar just below his feet.
EPILOGUE
It took Zannah three days to make the repairs to the Loranda. She'd loaded Bane into the ship and hooked him up to the bacta pump so he could continue to recuperate while she worked, sedating him to accelerate the healing process. Now that their vessel was ready to leave Ambria, she went in to check on her Master one last time.
He was still unconscious, lying on his back on the gurney as she had left him. She stepped forward to check his vitals and his eyes flew open, burning with rage. His hand snapped out and seized her wrist, clenching it with the strength of an iron claw.
"Where are the Jedi?" he asked in a fierce whisper, fixing her with a look of pure hatred as he lifted himself up onto one elbow. His grip on her wrist tightened, making her wince.
"They're gone " she said, trying to stay calm. "They've gone back to Coruscant."
She could feel Bane's power-whole once more-coursing through his veins. She could feel the heat of his anger, and she knew one wrong word and he'd snap her neck in two with the Force.
"Why?" he growled.
"They think they killed the Dark Lord on Ambria," she replied. "They think the Sith are extinct."
Bane tilted his head to the side, curious. "Caleb?"
"I killed him."
"Your cousin?
"Dead. Killed by the Jedi."
An unwanted vision of the pitiful creature she had turned Darovit into flashed through her mind. She remembered him huddled in the corner, quivering in terror. He clutched the handle of a lightsaber against his chest, his only defense against the horrors and nightmares he saw crawling toward him from every corner. She swept the memory away with a quick shake of her head.
Bane released his hold and lay back in his bed, his anger fading.
"You have done well, Zannah" he said, his ever-cunning mind filling in the blanks enough for him to surmise what she had done. She smiled at the compliment.
"I underestimated you," he continued. "Had I known your plans, I would never have asked you to kill me."
"You still have much to teach me " Zannah reminded him. "I will continue to study at your feet, Master. I will learn from your wisdom. I will discover your secrets, unlocking them one by one until everything you know-all your knowledge and all your power-is mine. And once you are no longer of use to me, I will destroy you."
Bane raised an eyebrow at her words, and she could tell he approved. Her ambition was good; it would give her power. Her talents and abilities would continue to grow. In time, she would challenge her Master for the right to rule, and only the stronger would survive. It was inevitable. It was the way of the Sith.
"One day I will surpass you," Zannah warned him. "And on that day I will kill you, Lord Bane. But that day is not today."
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