mingling with the sweat of fear and anticipation. Here Kas'im could be satisfied only once he stood face-to-face with an enemy. Soon his frustration would boil over into rebellion, and Kaan could ill afford to lose the loyalty of the greatest swordsman of his camp. Fortunately, he had a way to deal with both his problems, Bane and Kas'im, in one fell swoop.
'I have a mission for you. A mission of great importance.'
'I live to serve, Lord Kaan.' Kas'im's answer was calm, but his head-tails twitched with anticipation.
'I must send you far from Ruusan. To the ends of the galaxy. You have to go to Lehon.'
'The Unknown World?' the Blademaster asked, puzzled. 'There is nothing there but the graveyard of our order's greatest defeat.'
'Bane is there,' Kaan explained. 'You must go to him as my envoy. Explain that he must join the rest of the Sith here on Ruusan. Tell him that those who do not stand with the Brotherhood stand against it.'
Kas'im shook his head. 'I doubt it will make a difference. Once his mind is set he can be… stubborn.'
'The dark side cannot be united in the Brotherhood if he stands alone,' Kaan explained. As he spoke, he reached out with the Force, pushing ever so gently at the Twi'lek's wounded sense of pride. 'I know he rejected you and the other Masters on Korriban. But you must make this offer once more.'
'And when he refuses?' Kas'im's words were quick and sharp. Inwardly, Kaan smiled at the Blademaster's growing anger even as he pushed just a little more.
'Then you must kill him.'
Chapter 23
'Those who use the dark side are also bound to serve it. To understand this is to understand the underlying philosophy of the Sith.'
Bane sat motionless, eyes riveted on the avatar of a Dark Lord three thousand years dead and gone. Revan's projected image winked out of existence, then slowly flickered back into view. The Holocron was failing. Dying. The material used to construct it, the crystal that channeled the energy of the Force to give the artifact life, was flawed. The more Bane used it, the less stable it became. Yet he couldn't set it aside, even for a single day. He had become obsessed with tapping all the knowledge trapped within, and he spent hours on end drinking in Revan's words with the same single-minded determination he had used when mining cortosis back on Apatros.
'The dark side offers power for power's sake. You must crave it. Covet it. You must seek power above all else, with no reservation or hesitation.'
These words rang especially true for Bane, as if the preprogrammed personality of his virtual Master sensed it was nearing its end and had tailored its last lessons especially for him.
'The Force will change you. It will transform you. Some fear this change. The teachings of the Jedi are focused on fighting and controlling this transformation. That is why those who serve the light are limited in what they can accomplish.
'True power can come only to those who embrace the transformation. There can be no compromise. Mercy, compassion, loyalty: all these things will prevent you from claiming what is rightfully yours. Those who follow the dark side must cast aside these conceits. Those who do not, those who try to walk the path of moderation, will fail, dragged down by their own weakness.'
The words almost perfectly described Bane as he had been during his time at the Academy. Despite this, he felt no shame or regret. That Bane no longer existed. Just as he had cast aside the miner from Apatros when he had taken his Sith name, so had he cast aside the stumbling, uncertain apprentice when he had claimed the Darth title for himself. When he'd rejected Qordis and the Brotherhood, he had begun the transformation Revan spoke of, and with the Holocron's help he was at last on the verge of completing it.
'Those who accept the power of the dark side must also accept the challenge of holding on to it,' Revan continued. 'By its very nature, the dark side invites rivalry and strife. This is the greatest strength of the Sith: it culls the weak from our order. Yet this rivalry can also be our greatest weakness. The strong must be careful lest they be overwhelmed by the ambitions of those beneath them working in concert. Any Master who instructs more than one apprentice in the ways of the dark side is a fool. In time the apprentices will unite their strength and overthrow the Master. It is inevitable. Axiomatic. That is why each Master must have only one student.'
Bane didn't respond, but his lip instinctively curled up in disgust as he remembered his instruction at the Academy. Qordis and the others had passed the apprentices around from class to class, as if they were children in school instead of heirs to the legacy of the Sith. Was it any wonder he had struggled to reach his full potential in such a flawed system?
'This is also the reason there can be only one Dark Lord. The Sith must be ruled by a single leader: the very embodiment of the strength and power of the dark side. If the leader grows weak, another must rise to seize the mantle. The strong rule; the weak are meant to serve. This is the way it must be.'
The image flickered and jumped, and then the tiny replica of Darth Revan bowed its head, drawing its hood up to hide its features once more. 'My time here is ended. Take what I have taught you and use it well.'
And then Revan was gone. The glow emanating from the Holocron faded away to nothing. Bane retrieved the small crystal pyramid from the floor, but it was cold and lifeless in his hands. He felt no trace of the Force inside it.
The artifact was of no more use to him. As Revan had taught him, it must therefore be discarded. He let it drop to the floor. Then, very slowly and deliberately, he crushed it with the power of the Force until only dust remained.
The Sith Buzzard broke into Lehon's atmosphere and plummeted down through the clear blue sky. At the controls Kas'im made slight alterations to keep his vessel on its course, a direct line for the homing beacon of the Valcyn.
He'd half expected Bane to have disabled the beacon, or at least changed its frequency. But despite being aware of it, the beacon was standard on virtually all craft, he had left it alone. Almost as if he wasn't afraid of anyone coming after him. As if he welcomed it.
