what she was looking for: a nondescript bottle of a pale yellow liquid that she tucked into the folds of her clothes before making her way back up the ladder.
'Do you know what senflax is?' she asked once she was back aboveground.
The assassin only shrugged in response.
'It's a neurotoxin extracted from a rare plant found only in the jungles of Cadannia.'
'What use could a healer have for poisons?' she wanted to know.
'It's not really a poison. Senflax is more like a sedative. One that allows the patient to stay conscious while numbing all pain and sensation. It disrupts the nerves of the primary muscles, paralyzing them, but it won't cause the heart, lungs, or other vital organs to shut down no matter how large the dose.'
'Even a paralyzed Sith Lord can kill with his mind,' the Huntress warned.
'Senflax also clouds the mind. It makes it impossible for the patient to focus or collect his thoughts; it takes away any semblance of free will. He can give simple answers to direct questions, but otherwise he is completely helpless.
'I saw my father give it to a pilot who had been badly burned in a chemical explosion,' she continued, her eyes growing distant as she slipped back into the memories of her youth. 'His friends brought him here, but by the time they arrived he had been driven mad with pain. The senflax took the pain away while leaving the pilot still able to answer questions about what chemicals he had been transporting so that my father would best know how to treat him.'
'You're certain the neurotoxin will still work after all this time?'
The Huntress was aware that most people would have inquired about the fate of the injured pilot, but she wasn't most people. The only thing she cared about was the job she still wasn't sure she was going to accept.
'It should be fine as long as the bottle was sealed,' Serra confirmed. 'Once we get back to my ship I can test it for potency.'
'Do you know how to prepare it properly?' the assassin demanded. 'How to administer it? How quickly it takes effect and how long it will last?'
'I am my father's daughter,' the princess proudly declared. 'He taught me everything he knew about healing and medicine.'
What would he say if he knew you were using his knowledge to seek revenge for his death? the Huntress silently wondered.
'I can show you how to use the senflax to keep the prisoner under your control,' Serra continued. 'So, will you take the job?'
The Iktotchi took her time before answering. It wasn't the money that intrigued her. It was the challenge; the knowledge that she would be pitting herself against a foe more powerful than any she had faced before. She couldn't see the outcome of the mission; too many conflicting forces were at work for the future to be clear. Yet she sensed that this was the moment she had been training for her entire life.
'I'd need at least ten well-trained warriors under my command,' she said, speaking slowly.
'I'll give you twenty.'
'Then we have a deal,' the Iktotchi replied, her faint smile making the dark lines tattooed on her lower lip curl up like an animal baring its fangs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The return trip from Prakith to Ciutric IV was taking even longer than the original journey. It should have been quicker, of course; Bane had already plotted the hyperspace routes that would lead him back out of the Deep Core. But in the hours he had spent on the volcanic world acquiring the Holocron from Andeddu's followers, several of the lanes he had used for the inbound flight had shifted and become unstable.
Two had already collapsed, forcing him to recalculate his journey. Statistically, the chances of this happening in such a short time span were astronomically small. However, statistics often fell by the wayside when events were influenced by the Force. There were too many accounts of those who had come into possession of powerful Sith artifacts falling victim to grim misfortune to dismiss the tales as mere coincidence.
Many believed the talismans of the dark side carried a curse; others claimed they were somehow alive, as if the inanimate materials used to make a ring, amulet, or Holocron could somehow achieve sentience. Those ignorant enough to believe in such superstition might have claimed that Andeddu's Holocron was fighting Bane. They would have declared the collapsing hyperspace routes were evidence of Andeddu's vengeful spirit trapped within the crystal pyramid seeking to destroy the thief who had defiled his sacred temple.
Bane knew there was no inherent malevolence in the Holocron; it was merely a tool, a repository of knowledge. Yet he also understood how far reaching the effects of the Force could be. A storm of violence swirled around items imbued with the magic of the ancient Sith; the strong could ride the storm to even greater heights, the weak would be swept up in its wake and destroyed.
Andeddu's Holocron was a talisman of undeniable power; Bane could feel the waves of dark side energy radiating from it. It was possible the fragile matrix of the Deep Core's space-time continuum had been subtly altered by these waves during his outbound journey, destabilizing the hyperlanes. He plotted a course of nearly one hundred brief jumps, minimizing the danger by spending as much of the journey in realspace as possible. It would take him nearly twice as long to get home, but it was better to be cautious than risk having his ship instantaneously crushed into a pinpoint singularity by the sudden collapse of a weakened hyperspace corridor.
Fortunately, he had a way to help him pass the time.
'Essence transfer is the secret of eternal life,' the hologram told him.
Bane was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his ship, the Holocron resting on the ground in front of him. A three-dimensional image of Darth Andeddu, twenty centimeters tall, was projected just above the apex of the four-sided pyramid.
'The physical body will always weaken and fail, yet it is nothing but a shell or vessel,' the hologram continued. 'When it is time, it is possible to transfer your consciousness-your spirit-into a new vessel:as I have done with this Holocron.'
Bane understood that the projection speaking to him was not the dead spirit of the ancient Sith Lord; it was only a simulated personality known as a gatekeeper. Every Holocron had one. A virtual guide programmed with the personality traits of the original creator, the gatekeeper served as a guardian of the information stored within the artifact.
The appearance of the gatekeeper often mirrored that of the Holocron's creator:or at least, the image the creator wanted others to see. Bane remembered how the gatekeeper of Belia Darzu's Holocron would often change appearance, reflecting her changeling heritage.
His own Holocron projected an image of Bane still clad in his orbalisk armor. Although the parasites had proven impractical in real life, the horrific appearance of his body covered by the infestation was more visually impressive and intimidating. It also hinted at the sacrifices one must make to embrace the true power of the dark side-a valuable lesson for any who would follow his teachings.
More importantly, the orbalisks masked his appearance and concealed his true identity. Should the Holocron ever fall into the hands of the Jedi while he was still alive, they would be unable to recognize him from the gatekeeper's image:an even greater consideration now that he was on the cusp of learning the secrets of eternal life. But first, he had to overcome the small but imposing figure who now stood before him.
Andeddu had chosen to represent himself as a heavily armored man bathed in a fiery glow of red and orange. Atop his head rested a tall, flat headdress reminiscent of a high priest, encircled by a thin gold crown inset with gems. His face was sunken and drawn, almost skeletal.
For the past four days Bane had played the gatekeeper's games in an attempt to unlock the secrets of eternal life. He had delved deep into Andeddu's Holocron, accomplishing in less than a week what would have taken others months or even years. He had suffered through the tedious lessons; he had listened to the tiresome philosophical rants of the holographic image. He had learned nothing new about the Force, though the gatekeeper's words had revealed much about Darth Andeddu's personality and beliefs.
Like many of the ancient Sith, he was cruel, arrogant, self-centered, and shortsighted. His lessons mirrored
