Zannah had said her Master had gone to Prakith to find it. Whoever had captured Bane must have taken the Holocron for themselves.
Set opened his eyes and shook his head, collapsing his awareness back to his immediate surroundings. His looming headache was gone, replaced by an aching desire to claim the Holocron for himself
He had only a vague idea of where to find it. Once he was inside the Stone Prison, though, he was confident he'd be able to zero in on it quickly. For him, tracking a Holocron was much easier than locating a person.
Zannah had commanded him to guard the ship, but he wasn't worried about anyone accidentally discovering it. He hadn't sensed anyone even remotely close to the landing bay.
The question is, can you get the Holocron and get back here before Zannah finishes with Bane?
It was risky. If she returned to discover he was gone, she might decide to end his apprenticeship:and his life. Even if she didn't, she might just take the Holocron for herself, and Set knew he wouldn't be strong enough to stop her.
But if you find the Holocron, who says you have to bring it back here?
Whoever had brought Bane to the Stone Prison had to be using one of the other landing bays for their own vessels. How hard could it be to steal one of those instead?
The secret of eternal life versus the undying hatred of a Sith Lord. Is it worth it?
That was one question Set had no trouble answering. Taking a glow lamp, he entered the Stone Prison through the same passage Zannah had gone down less than fifteen minutes earlier.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bane could feel the hard iron of his shackles cutting into his wrists, and a grim smile played across his lips. The pain indicated that the sedative was wearing off. The dull gray fog that had clouded his thoughts was clearing, leaving his mind sharp and focused.
Once again he could feel the power of the dark side. It was strong in this place; the misery and suffering of centuries hung in the air here. Bane could almost hear the screams of all the countless victims still echoing off the walls.
The memories of the last hour were hazy and confused, but he knew enough. His capture had been orchestrated by Caleb's daughter and the mysterious Iktotchi who had stood at her side during the interrogation. And he owed his release to their other companion.
He didn't know why the dark-skinned woman had injected him after the others had left. Despite his drugged state at the time, he was certain it wasn't an accident or mistake. She had known what she was doing. Who she was and why she had done it, however, were beyond him.
Not that her identity or her reasons mattered in the immediate future. She had given Bane all the help he needed, and soon he would be ready to make his move.
The pain had spread beyond his wrists. His shoulders felt like they were being ripped from his sockets from bearing the brunt of his weight. The deep gashes on his cheek burned, and he could feel the small rivulets of blood creeping along his face and down along the line of his jaw before dripping to the floor.
It's time.
He lifted his head to make sure the door to his cell was still closed; he wanted to catch his captors by surprise. Then he began to gather the power of the Force. An instant later the cuffs on his wrists and ankles shattered, exploding into a million pieces at a mere thought from Bane.
He fell to the floor, his weary muscles unprepared to support his weight. It took him a moment to gather himself, and then a rush of adrenaline surged through his body and he was back on his feet.
Bane felt naked without his lightsaber, but he wasn't exactly helpless without it. There were plenty of other ways to dispatch his enemies.
Three quick strides brought him to the durasteel door of his cell. He reached out and placed his left palm flat against the surface, then used the Force to blow it outward. It flew across the room, striking and killing one of the guards sitting at a table playing cards.
The remaining five guards scrambled to their feet, grabbing for their weapons. Bane lashed out with the Force. The fury of his attack was muted by the last lingering effects of the drugs in his system, but it was still strong enough to knock them all to the floor and send the table flying into the wall, where it cracked in half.
Bane fell on the guards like an enraged animal, moving so quickly he was nothing but a blur. He brought his boot down on the throat of his nearest opponent, crushing his windpipe. He wrapped his muscular forearm around the next man's neck from behind in a choke hold, braced his other palm against his chin, and wrenched his head to the side, breaking his neck.
The last three opponents were back on their feet, blasters drawn. Bane yanked a short vibroblade from the belt of the man with the broken neck and plunged it into the belly of a woman before she could bring her pistol to bear. She doubled over from the fatal blow, releasing her grip on her weapon.
Bane dropped to the floor and caught it before it hit the ground, ducking under the bolts fired from the remaining two enemies as he rolled onto his back and fired a pair of perfectly placed shots. The guards both toppled over backward, their faces erased by the impact of a blaster bolt at point-blank range.
Another locked durasteel door blocked the only exit. Bane tossed the blaster aside and tore the door off its hinges. Up above, someone triggered the alarm, and a deafening klaxon began to blare.
Beyond the door was a narrow staircase, similarly barricaded at the top. The Dark Lord charged up the steps and threw himself shoulder-first into the door at the top. It burst open from the impact, sending him tumbling into the room beyond.
The four guards up here had been alerted by the blaster shots being fired down below; unlike the first wave they weren't caught off guard by his violent entrance. Weapons already drawn, they opened fire.
But Bane's visceral, primal assault on the squad in the room below had fueled the cycle of rising emotion and mounting dark side power. He met their assault with an explosion of crackling energy that rippled out in a violet wave from his body at the center.
The incoming bolts were absorbed harmlessly into the ionic storm, the blasters themselves melted in the hands of their owners. The stench of burned flesh mingled with their screams of agony and the relentless, hammering song of the alarms, further feeding Bane's power.
Crouched on one knee, he clenched both fists then threw his arms out to either side, fingers splayed wide. The resulting Force wave pummeled the guards, sending them hurtling backward so they bounced off the walls hard enough to leave cracks in the stone.
Bane rose to his feet in the center of the carnage. Half a dozen bodies lay strewn about him, bones shattered, internal organs crushed into pulp. One choked out a pink, frothing spray with his final breath; all the others were still.
To his dismay, he saw neither Caleb's daughter nor the Iktotchi among the dead. He had sensed a few guards fleeing the room as he had charged up the staircase, but he hadn't felt either of those two women among them. He also didn't recognize any of the corpses as the dark-skinned woman who had saved him, though he was-for the moment-less interested in her.
He had found Serra once before. During his first meeting with Caleb, the healer had tried to trick him with a simple illusion to hide his daughter. But Bane had sensed the little girl cowering behind the facade: he had tasted her fear. Yet it was more than that. Like her father, the girl had power that could be sensed through the Force.
You can't hide from me. I will find you.
Calling up the long-buried memory, he reached out with his mind, concentrating on picking out her unmistakable presence.
She's here. Still in the facility. But she's not alone.
His awareness had spread through the halls of the dungeon, whispering over the minds of all who walked the halls. He had sensed Serra, along with several other powerful individuals. Yet there was one in particular that had drawn his attention.
Zannah. What is she doing here?
Was his apprentice somehow involved in his capture? Had she come here to rescue him? Or maybe to stop him
