Darth Bane_ Dynasty Of Evil Part 22

Time seemed to stand still as she stood by the console, waiting expectantly, Hours seemed to pa.s.s, though in truth it was only a matter of minutes. And then she felt a small tremor beneath her feet...the shock wave from the first detonation in the deepest level of the facility. A few seconds later it was followed by another tremor, and then another after that.

Satisfied, she turned and headed out to the escape shuttle. The destruction of the Stone Prison had begun.

The Huntress had never faced a more frustrating opponent. Despite the lightsaber in his hand, the man refused to stand and fight. He ducked and ran back and forth between the hulls of the s.h.i.+ps, moving from one hiding place to another, always a step ahead of her.

She could have sheathed her vibroblades and drawn the twin blasters tucked inside the folds of her cloak, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. Her adversary was too quick for her to ever get a clear shot, and even if she did he'd probably just slap the bolt away with his lightsaber.

She caught a glimpse of him darting across the aisle between her shuttle and the one parked beside it. She didn't chase him, though: she turned and ran behind her own shuttle, taking a path parallel to his in the hope of cutting him off.

Chewing the ground up with long, effortless strides she raced around the side of the s.h.i.+p, hoping to flank her unsuspecting opponent. Instead she came within a centimeter of being decapitated as his lightsaber came hurtling through the air toward her.

She let herself collapse to the ground, falling awkwardly back and to the side as her legs shot out from under her. The maneuver was ungainly, but it saved her life. The deadly energy blade whistled by her ear, slicing a thumb-sized chunk out of one of her horns before circling back on a tight arc and returning to her opponent's hand.

Ignoring the stinging pain from her horn she scrambled back to her feet, vibroblades ready. But her opponent didn't press his advantage; he disappeared again, vanis.h.i.+ng around the nose of the s.h.i.+p.

Her injury wasn't serious; Iktotchi horns contained no vital organs or major arteries. Even if completely severed the wound would not be life threatening, though it would be agonizingly painful. In time the missing chunk would even grow back, leaving no evidence of how close she had come to dying in the hangar.

But she had had nearly died. She realized her opponent was cunning; he had wanted her to see him, knowing she'd double around to try and cut him off. nearly died. She realized her opponent was cunning; he had wanted her to see him, knowing she'd double around to try and cut him off.

She had underestimated him and he had manipulated her, goading her into a careless mistake. He had set a trap and she had walked right into it. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Set crouched down behind one of the s.h.i.+ps, gasping for breath. To some extent he had been able to resist the Iktotchi's strange ability. He was able to fight through her ability to draw on the Force, but the effort had left him exhausted.

And it still messed you up enough so that she was able to dodge your lightsaber.

The Dark Jedi frowned at the memory of how close he had come to ending this battle, even as he forced himself to get up and get moving again. He couldn't stay in one place for more than a few seconds, not unless he wanted to end up dead. He knew she'd be more careful now; he'd missed his best chance.

The Iktotchi was too quick for him to beat in a straight-up fight...not with her disrupting his connection to the Force and slowing him down. So far he'd managed to avoid a direct confrontation, but he couldn't keep running for much longer. He had a st.i.tch in his side, and his lungs felt like they were going to burst. Unless something happened to change the situation, the outcome was inevitable.

As if in answer to his prayers, there was a sudden change in the sound of the alarms. It only took Set a moment to figure out what had happened, and a new escape plan began to form in his mind.

The Huntress heard the change in the sound of the alarms, and she knew that they had maybe five minutes before the detonations began, and maybe ten before the entire complex was reduced to rubble.

Her opponent noticed the change as well.

"Hear that?" he called out from somewhere on the other side of the hangar. "This whole place is going to come cras.h.i.+ng down around our ears. Why don't we each just hop on one of these shuttles and get out of here before that happens?"

"I still have enough time to find you," she shouted back, slowly heading in the direction of his voice. It sounded like he was near one of the shuttles on the far side of the room. "You're getting tired. Wearing down. You won't last much longer."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he answered as she stepped from behind one of the s.h.i.+ps, giving her a clear view of the man she had been chasing.

He was leaning casually against the side of one of the shuttles, near the thrusters at the rear. He glanced toward her but made no attempt to hide. Instead he just stood there, holding his lightsaber casually at his side.

Wary of walking into another trap, the Huntress began a cautious approach. As she took her first step, the silver-haired man pulled his arm back and brought his lightsaber down hard against the shuttle's hull. There was a shower of sparks, and the blade bit a full centimeter into the s.h.i.+p's reinforced exterior plating.

The man pulled his arm back and struck again, hitting precisely the same spot, the glowing blade carving even deeper this time. It was only on the third blow that the Huntress realized what he was doing.

The third chop brought the lightsaber deep enough to sever one of the shuttle's fuel lines. Her opponent flung himself backward and she threw herself to the floor as a stray spark ignited the flammable liquid. Hundreds of tiny metal shards that had once been a fuel cell were sent hurtling through the air. The shuttle bucked once, its tail leaping a full meter off the ground from the force of the blast. A thick cloud of greasy black smoke curled up from the gash the lightsaber had left in the hull.

"Amazing weapons, aren't they?" the man noted as she picked herself up from the ground. "Cut through almost anything."

His face was cut and sc.r.a.ped from flying debris, but somehow-probably through s.h.i.+elding himself with the Force-he had managed to avoid the worst of the explosion. Before she could reply, he had ducked around the corner of the shuttle, disappearing from sight once again.

A few seconds later she heard the unmistakable sound of the lightsaber shearing through metal yet again from the far side of the hangar.

She broke into a run, heading in the direction of the noise. She was only halfway there when another explosion knocked her to the ground. When she got back to her feet she saw that a second shuttle had been disabled.

Knowing his next target, she turned and ran toward the Stalker. She pulled up short when she came around a corner and saw her opponent standing beside her shuttle, his hand moving gently along the hull.

"What are you doing?" the Huntress shouted.

"All I want is to get out of here alive," he explained. "But for some reason you seem intent on killing me."

"You took the first swing at me," she reminded him. "When I caught you about to steal my s.h.i.+p."

"A simple misunderstanding," he said, waving his hand to dismiss her accusations. "There are two shuttles left. You take yours and leave the other one for me, and we never have to see each other again."

"What if I say no?"

"Then I destroy your shuttle and we see if you can stop me before I get to the last one. My guess is you can't, and then we're both stuck here when these walls come cras.h.i.+ng down."

"You're a coward," the a.s.sa.s.sin shot back. "You wouldn't even stand and fight me. Now you expect me to believe you'd sacrifice yourself to trap us both here?"

"I'm a realist," the man explained. "If we fight, I'm dead. If I trap us here, I'm dead. Either way the outcome is the same...but if I destroy the shuttles, then at least I take you with me."

She didn't answer right away. It was possible he was telling the truth: people did desperate things when cornered.

Her thoughts seized on the hooked handle in her belt; he wasn't the only one armed with a lightsaber. She briefly considered trying to use the weapon she'd taken from the Sith Lord's mansion to block the attack if he tried to damage her shuttle, then dismissed the idea. She had no training or experience; she'd never even held a lightsaber until a few days ago. Even if she did, by the time she crossed the distance between them the damage could have been done.

Next, she tried to calculate her odds of getting to the last remaining shuttle before her enemy could disable it. She might be able to beat him there, but as soon as she climbed inside the c.o.c.kpit he'd be able to run up and wreak havoc on the engines.

Finally, she weighed the possibility that he wouldn't actually go through with his threat. Even when faced with a hopeless situation, few people would have the strength of will to destroy their only chance of escape. There was a very good chance he was bluffing.

But even if he was, what did she gain by calling his bluff?

She didn't know anything about this man: who he was, how he got here, or why he had shown up in the first place. What did she really accomplish by killing him? And what did she lose by letting him go?

The only reason she hadn't left yet was the belief that this was where she would find her destiny.

Whether this man lived or died was of no consequence compared with that.

A deep thrumming boom rolled through the cavern. The silver-haired man swayed slightly on his feet.

"We're running out of time," he warned, c.o.c.king his arm back and taking aim.

"We have a deal!" she shouted.

"Stay where I can see you," the man warned, backing away from her carefully.

Keeping his eye on her, he scooted over to the other shuttle. He disappeared around the far side of the vessel. She heard him fumbling with the access panel as he sliced the security systems, followed by the unmistakable whoosh whoosh of the boarding ramp descending. A few seconds later he reappeared, visible in the c.o.c.kpit viewport. of the boarding ramp descending. A few seconds later he reappeared, visible in the c.o.c.kpit viewport.

The Huntress simply watched, knowing there was nothing she could do. Unlike a lightsaber, neither her vibroblades nor her blasters were capable of inflicting any serious damage on the hull of a shuttle. She momentarily considered drawing the lightsaber and mimicking the trick he had used against her, but even if she was able to damage his vessel, it just meant he would still be here, and she'd have to find some way to get to her own s.h.i.+p before he returned the favor.

The shuttle engines roared to life as it rose up and turned to face the exit, hovering for an instant just below the chamber's high ceiling. She could clearly see the Doan royal crest on the side, as well as the silver-haired man inside the c.o.c.kpit. He waved to her and flashed a self-satisfied smile, and then the thrusters kicked in and the s.h.i.+p swooped away, flying out of the hangar and disappearing into the night sky.

For the first time in the Huntress's life, someone she had wanted to kill had gotten away. Yet it would be a small price to pay if she managed to find what she was truly looking for.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Zannah wasn't used to being the aggressor. In all the times she and Bane had sparred he had been the one pressing the action. Her lightsaber style was built on a foundation of parries and counterstrikes, hiding behind her virtually impenetrable defense while waiting for her opponent to make a mistake.

This confrontation was completely different. Yet even though Bane had no lightsaber, that didn't mean he was helpless. Zannah knew she couldn't simply rush in: despite his bulk, Bane was incredibly quick and agile. He had also learned close-quarters pit-fighting tactics during his days as a miner and soldier. She had to be wary of letting him get close enough to grapple her; she couldn't let him get the opportunity to use his size and strength against her.

There was also his incredible command of the Force to contend with. Simple tactics like pus.h.i.+ng an opponent from across the room were impractical against any foe with proper training. Both she and Bane knew how to surround themselves with an invisible field of energy that absorbed or repelled the most basic tricks taught to any Jedi or Sith. But Bane could unleash devastating bolts of dark side lightning from his hands almost at will.

As long as she was careful, she was able to avoid them or intercept them with her lightsaber.

This caution, however, allowed her Master to keep her off balance just enough to stay alive.

The pair were entwined in an intricate dance. She swept in low, spinning and twirling her lightsaber. He leapt up high, planting his feet on the wall at his side and pus.h.i.+ng off hard, sending himself into a tumbling roll just beyond the reach of her blade's arc.

Back on his feet, he sprang backward as Zannah stabbed her blade straight forward, keeping just out of range. She pursued him down the length of the hall, jabbing and thrusting her weapon and sending the Dark Lord into a full retreat. Bane fought back with short, concentrated bursts of lightning, aiming at her boots to disrupt her footwork and keep her off balance.

Zannah took quick stuttering steps to avoid the attack and keep him from gaining a reprieve.

Bane feinted as if he was going to fall back to the right, then lunged forward, flipping over her head and reaching down with a huge hand to seize her wrist.

She ducked out of the way, las.h.i.+ng out with a kick as he landed behind her. Bane spun, grabbed her ankle, and wrenched the boot to the side, trying to snap the bone. Zannah rolled with the violent motion, her entire body spinning along a horizontal plane. At the same time she brought her lightsaber back up over her shoulder to slice Bane's arm off at the elbow, but caught only air as he released his hold and fell back once more.

She had him cornered against the wall with nowhere to go. As she moved in for the kill another burst of lightning came toward her. She caught it with her lightsaber, but the impact drove her backward a step, giving Bane just enough room to duck down beneath her coup de grace and scramble clear of the wall.

They had switched positions, each facing the opposite way as they began the dance yet again.

The ebb and flow of their battle fell into a rhythm of feints and counters, their dance keeping time to the clanging alarms as she forced him back up the hall she had chased him down only moments before.

Zannah suspected if their positions were reversed, Bane might have ended the confrontation already. Yet she knew her victory was inevitable. Her Master was in an impossible situation. He needed to do everything exactly right just to keep her at bay for another pa.s.s. He had no margin for error, and even the Dark Lord of the Sith couldn't sustain perfection forever. The only way she could lose would be to make a careless mistake.

The best Bane could hope for was to try to frustrate her with his elusiveness. But Zannah understood patience. She had waited twenty years for this moment, and she was content to play their battle out as long as necessary.

They reached the end of the hall, and Zannah thought she had Bane trapped. This time she used her lightsaber to slap aside the violet bolts of lightning rather than trying to absorb them and stumbling back. Bane still had one more trick up his sleeve, however.

She was less than a meter away, her blade already slas.h.i.+ng in for the killing blow, when she felt all the hair on the back of her neck rise. A s.h.i.+mmering purple coc.o.o.n of dark side energy enveloped Bane, a fragile sh.e.l.l holding back a storm of pure power.

She tried to pull back but it was too late. As her blade bit into the coc.o.o.n the energy was released in a sudden burst that sent both of them flying backward. Bane slammed hard into the wall against his back and crumpled to the ground. Zannah was tossed ten meters farther, landing hard on the stone floor.

They rose to their feet at the same time, neither seriously injured. But yet again Bane had managed to thwart her attack and work himself out of a corner.

Zannah merely shrugged and began another slow, relentless advance. She paused for a moment when the sound of the alarms changed.

She knew almost instantly what had happened. They had only a few minutes to escape before the explosions buried them alive.

There were two options: break off the battle and run for the s.h.i.+p, or throw caution to the wind and take one last reckless charge at her Master. She couldn't let Bane get away. She had to end this now!

As she gathered herself to charge, Bane fired off another bolt of lightning. She ducked to the side and it whizzed past her ear, striking the wall and sending up a shower of dust and stone flecks.

Despite missing her the first time, Bane followed it up with another blast on the exact same trajectory. Turning her head to follow the course of the misguided bolt, Zannah saw where the first had hit the wall. The stone had been disintegrated in a fist-sized hole, revealing something that looked like bright red plastic beneath it.

She recognized it as the casing of a demolition charge just in time to throw herself backward, using the Force to s.h.i.+eld herself from the worst of the explosion. She was thrown clear as the entire wall blew out, sending huge chunks of stone spewing into the pa.s.sage. The ceiling was shredded, tearing loose ma.s.sive blocks that tumbled to the ground.

Choking on the cloud of dust and smoke, Zannah picked herself up. The pa.s.sage in front of her was completely blocked by rubble and debris from the blast. She could feel Bane on the other side of the rocks; he had survived the blast, just as she had. But now they were separated by tons of impa.s.sable stone.

She walked slowly over to the collapsed section of the hallway and placed a hand on the edge of one of the ma.s.sive stones blocking her way. Even using the Force, it would take hours to clear a path. There was no way to deny the truth: she had him, and she had let him get away.

The vibrations of another explosion, this one far away in some deep chamber of the dungeon, rumbled up through the floor, reminding her she was out of time. Cursing her missed opportunity, she turned and ran back the way she had come, racing for her s.h.i.+p.

Overhead, the evacuation alarms continued to wail.

Bane had hoped his apprentice would be caught off guard by his unexpected tactic. There was a small chance she would actually be killed by the explosion, buried under the collapsing rock. But as he picked himself up in the aftermath, he could sense she was still alive. Despite the fact she had been trying to kill him, the knowledge brought him a small measure of satisfaction. He had trained her well.

The primary goal of the explosion hadn't been to kill her, anyway. The desperate ploy was actually Bane's last chance to escape a battle he knew he couldn't win. In that he had been successful...though if he wanted to survive he still had to find a way out of the prison before the whole place came cras.h.i.+ng down.

He had no real sense of where he was in the labyrinthine dungeon. Before Zannah found him, he had been following Caleb's daughter, letting the Force guide him with no real conscious thought as to the path he was taking.

Reaching out with his mind, he sensed that the princess was gone now. But Bane had slaughtered more than a dozen guards during his escape; they had to have shuttles somewhere in the facility.

And even if he didn't know where to find them, he knew he could trust in the Force.

He broke into a run, darting left and right down pa.s.sages as they opened up without any thought or hesitation, doing his best to ignore the incessant howls of the evacuation alarms.

Throughout his life, even before he had known who and what he was, he had been guided by the Force. During his military career he had led a charmed life, somehow leading the Gloom Walkers virtually unscathed through some of the war's bloodiest campaigns. He had simply considered himself lucky, or blessed with good instincts.

He skidded around a corner, his boots losing traction for a second. At the same time, he felt the shock wave of a ma.s.sive explosion rippling up from chambers somewhere far below. He fought for his balance and managed to keep his feet, accelerating down the next hall.

It was impossible to tell if he was going in the right direction; the unadorned stone walls looked the same in every pa.s.sage. He felt the reverberations of a second distant explosion, reminding him that he was running out of time. Yet the slope of the corridor was leading him upward, which encouraged him.