Dynasty of Evil

  She was searching for him; he could feel her reaching out, drawing ever closer. Still, there were ways to counter her efforts: subtle manipulations of the Force could confuse and misdirect her.

  Fooling Zannah while tracking Caleb’s daughter at the same time was possible in theory, though few individuals had the discipline to maintain the balance between two such mentally intensive tasks. But Bane’s will was as strong as his body.

  If he was quick, cunning, and careful he had a chance to find his quarry while still getting out of the prison alive.

  Tears of anger, shame, and frustration were streaming down the princess’s face. She had held them in check as she had passed the guards, but with nobody around to see her she had finally let them go.

  Her plan to avenge her father’s death and free herself from the traumatic memories of her childhood had so far failed miserably. She had wanted the Sith Lord to admit he was wrong. She had wanted him to apologize and ask forgiveness for Caleb’s death. She had wanted him to beg her for mercy.

  She had convinced herself that if this happened it would help her deal with the senseless death of not just her father, but also her husband. She had thought it would help restore some type of meaning to a cruel and random universe. She had hoped it would bring her peace.

  But nothing had gone the way she had planned. The prisoner was completely unrepentant. He had twisted everything she had done and said into some perverse justification for what he believed in. He almost made it seem that Caleb’s death was right.

  And he turned your best friend against you.

  As much as the words of the Sith disturbed her, the actions of Lucia had upset her even more. The bodyguard had been the one who hired the Huntress to avenge Gerran’s death. But now she seemed determined to oppose Serra’s quest to avenge Caleb.

  It made no sense to the princess. She had expected Lucia to stand by her during the confrontation, to support her as she faced the demon of her past. To shore up her strength so she could conquer her fears and triumph over his evil. Instead she had defended him.

  How could you turn your back on me like that? When I needed you the most?

  Serra had fled the interrogation cell to escape the madness, not even paying attention to where she was going. Moving with long, quick strides, she had rushed heedlessly down the maze of halls without any purpose or direction.

  She didn’t know where she was going or what she was trying to do. She just needed to think. To try to make sense of it all. To be alone.

  Only she wasn’t alone.

  The physical exertion had helped bring her swirling emotions back under control, and after several minutes she began to regain some semblance of composure. The tears stopped and her pace slowed. It was only then she heard the footsteps of someone following a few meters behind her.

  She stopped short, bringing up a hand to wipe at her eyes before turning around. She was hoping to see Lucia. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with the Iktotchi assassin.

  “Why are you sneaking along behind me?” she demanded.

  “If I was sneaking, you wouldn’t have heard me,” the Huntress replied with her implacable calm. “I was following you, but I made no effort to mask my presence.”

  “Then why were you following me?”

  “I wanted to see what you would do. I’m curious to learn how you will react to your failure.”

  Serra’s lip twitched, but she managed to keep the rest of her face expressionless, mirroring the other woman’s emotionless demeanor.

  There was no point in denying what had happened; the Iktotchi had witnessed the entire exchange. But the princess wasn’t willing to admit defeat.

  “I will pick myself up from failure and try again,” she declared. “Next time I speak with him I’ll be ready for his tricks.”

  “There won’t be a next time,” the Huntress replied. “You had him in your power. His very life was in your hands. But you chose to let him live, and now it is too late. His fate and his future have slipped through your grasp. You are powerless once again.”

  The words were spoken without spite or malice, which made them sting all the more. Serra realized there was something evil about this woman. She wasn’t just a hired assassin. She used her ability to sense the future so she could spread suffering and death.

  “I don’t want you here anymore,” Serra told her, her voice firm. “Your job is done and you’ve already been paid. So go.”

  “The future is muddied right now,” the Iktotchi admitted. “Events teeter on a knife-edge, and I cannot foresee which way they will fall. I want to stay and see what happens when the prisoner breaks free.”

  “He will never break free!” Serra snapped. “I won’t let that happen!”

  “You can’t stop it. It’s already too late,” the Huntress replied. “Lucia has betrayed you. I saw it in her eyes when you left. She wants to save the man you want to destroy.”

  Serra shook her head, but though she wanted to deny it she couldn’t speak the words.

  She was defending him during the interrogation. Trying to protect him.

  “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” she asked, perplexed. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “As you said, I have already been paid. My job was to deliver him to you. Nothing more.”

  “So why are you telling me now?”

  The Iktotchi didn’t answer, but the first hint of emotion played across her face as the corners of her lips curled up into the hint of a cruel smile.

  She feeds on the misery of others.

  Serra started to say, Lucia would never betray me, but her words were cut off by the sudden clanging of the Stone Prison’s alarms.

  In that instant she knew everything the Huntress had told her was true. The prisoner had broken free, and Lucia had helped him.

  “No!” Serra shouted, clasping her head in her hands as for the second time today her world came crashing down around her. “No!”

  The Iktotchi was grinning now, transforming the tattoos on her lower lip into fangs.

  “No!” the princess shouted again, her voice rising up over the alarms.

  He can’t escape. Not now. Not after everything that’s happened.

  “No!”

  Serra turned and fled down one of the nearby corridors, a last, desperate plan forming in her mind.

  20

  As soon as Lucia was out of sight of the guards watching Des, she broke into a brisk jog. She knew she didn’t have much time before he escaped, and she needed to find the princess before that happened. But figuring out where Serra had gone was no easy matter.

  Dozens of passages branched off from the main corridor on either side, leading to other cell blocks in the wing, or to completely new areas of the dungeon complex. Fortunately only a small section of the Stone Prison had been reopened. Most of the halls Lucia passed were still dark and deserted: she didn’t think the princess would have gone down any of these.

  Even so, there was a lot of area to cover. She had started with the administrative office for the maximum-security wing, only to find it empty. After that she had backtracked, moving quickly up and down the halls that were illuminated, occasionally calling out Serra’s name in what she hoped came across as a calm, normal voice.

  She needed to find her, but she also didn’t want to make her suspicious. Lucia had no intention of revealing what she had done. She had helped Des because she felt it was right, but she doubted Serra would understand.

  Her hope was that she would be at the princess’s side under the guise of a supportive friend when the alarms went off. As her bodyguard, it would make perfect sense for her to whisk Serra away to safety at that time, and her friend would never have to know the truth about how Des escaped.

  Unfortunately, the first part of her plan fell apart when she heard the alarms ring out a few minutes later.

  She cursed under her breath and broke into a full run. Her plan could still work: if she found Serra she could still convince her to leave
without exposing her betrayal. But now she was in a race against Des to see which one of them could find the princess first.

  Where could she be?

  The clanging alarms made it hard to think. Lucia skidded to a stop, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

  From the corridor off to her right she heard the princess scream out “No!”—her voice carrying even over the cacophony of the alarms.

  She had to be close! Turning, Lucia ran down the hall in the direction of the sound. She came to another intersection: the corridor branched right, left, and continued straight ahead. Pausing, she listened for another clue, but heard nothing.

  Thinking back to the blueprints she had memorized when she had first joined the Royal Guard, she remembered that the corridor on the left led deeper into the dungeon, toward an area that was still closed. That left only two options.

  She continued on straight ahead, knowing the hall carried on for about twenty meters before turning sharply and ending in an old guard barracks. The room was on the same power grid as the maximum-security wing, so it would be illuminated. But it wasn’t being used: the hired mercenaries had been given lodging in the barracks on the other side of the wing.

  Lucia was guessing the princess had gone there to find some privacy as she struggled to deal with her emotions. She guessed wrong. Finding the barracks empty, she was forced to double back and take the other branch, knowing precious seconds had been lost.

  Running at a full sprint, she dashed down the hall and around the corner, nearly barreling into the Huntress. The Iktotchi stepped quickly to the side to avoid the collision. At the same time Lucia pulled up short, throwing herself off balance so that she stumbled and fell. Her knee smacked hard into the floor and skidded across the rough stone, tearing a hole in her trousers and scraping away a layer of skin.

  “Have you seen the princess?” she asked as she got back to her feet, ignoring the warm blood already welling up from the deep scrapes on her injured knee.

  “She knows what you did,” the assassin said. “She knows you betrayed her.”

  The unexpected accusation caught Lucia off guard; she didn’t even try to deny it.

  “How?”

  “I told her.”

  Lucia was stunned, unable to fathom how her secret had been exposed. And then she remembered the rumors that claimed the Iktotchi could see the future and read minds. She was on the verge of asking why the Huntress would let this happen only to tell Serra of her betrayal after the fact, but then she remembered whom she was dealing with.

  She did it to hurt her. She’s as much a monster as any Sith.

  For a moment she thought about going for her blaster. She wanted to kill the Huntress. She’d be doing the galaxy a favor. But despite her outrage, she knew she had no chance of killing the assassin. Attacking her would result only in Lucia’s own death, and it would do nothing to help the princess.

  You can still find Serra. Even if she knows what you did, maybe you can still convince her to get away before Des finds her. You can still save her.

  “Which way did she go?” she asked, wondering if the Iktotchi would even bother to tell her.

  “She ran off that way,” the assassin replied, tilting her horned head to indicate the direction.

  Lucia’s mind flashed back to the blueprints of the complex, and she knew where Serra was heading. The princess was still determined to kill Bane. She was going to the control room to detonate the Stone Prison’s self-destruct sequence.

  Not bothering to waste another second on the Huntress she turned and ran off down the corridor in pursuit, her gait clumsy and uneven because of her bloody and rapidly swelling knee.

  The Huntress watched the princess’s bodyguard rush off down the hall. She knew what lay at the end; in her visions she had seen the walls of this prison come crashing down in a series of explosions.

  For an instant she had thought the bodyguard was going to try to kill her. She was somewhat disappointed when it didn’t happen. Yet she knew Lucia’s end was inevitable: she had seen it.

  She turned and made her way with purposeful strides in the other direction, heading for the main hangar bay: a large cavern where she and the mercenaries had landed their shuttles. There was no point in sticking around, not when she knew the self-destruct sequence was going to be activated in a few minutes. Yet when she reached the hangar, she hesitated.

  The prisoner’s escape hadn’t surprised her. She knew he was not destined to die chained like an animal. She had seen him too many times in her dreams, locked in battle with the blond woman from her visions on Ambria. Her subconscious mind was obsessed with them, and the Huntress suspected she finally knew why.

  Her life had become stagnant, hollow. She moved from job to job, but she had no real purpose, no greater goal. Despite her ability to see visions of the future, she had never sought to shape it. She had always felt a greater destiny awaited her, yet she had made no effort to pursue it.

  From her pocket, she drew out the lightsaber hilt and the small pyramid she had taken on Ciutric. These were instruments of power; she could feel the importance of them. They had significance and meaning. They had purpose.

  She knew the Jedi claimed the light side had triumphed over the dark. They claimed the Sith were extinct. Yet the Huntress also knew this was a lie. The Sith still lived; she had tasted their power. And she had found it intoxicating.

  Securing the lightsaber and the pyramid back under her robe, she made her way over to lean against the guardrail of the large metal balcony overlooking the landing pads. From her vantage point she could look out across the tops of the four vessels parked below, giving her a clear view of Doan’s night sky through the wide entrance on the cavern’s far side.

  Two of the ships were unremarkable: shuttles owned by the mercenaries the princess had hired to staff the station. The third was the princess’s personal vessel: newer than the others, it bore the blue and yellow symbol of House Doan on either side. And then there was her own vessel, the Stalker. Smaller than any of the other ships, its shining black hull and blood-red trim still made it stand out.

  After a moment she made her way slowly down the stairs, but when she reached the ground below she didn’t board her ship. Instead, she began to wander slowly up and down the aisles between the vessels, idly running her hand across their hulls.

  She felt compelled to wait a little while longer. Something important was about to happen, something more than the spectacular implosion of the Stone Prison. She could feel it coming on the currents of the Force. She couldn’t quite grasp what the event was—sometimes the future could be as slippery as a fleek eel. But she knew it had something to do with her visions, and she intended to wait around long enough to see this through.

  Her destiny depended on it.

  Zannah knew she was getting close. The part of her journey through the Stone Prison’s maze of rooms and halls had been conducted in near total darkness. Only the pale green light of her glow stick had guided her—that, and the Force.

  She could feel her Master’s presence deep inside the complex, drawing her forward. Even so, she made several wrong turns and came across a number of dead ends as she moved silently through the darkness. The layout of the dungeon was intentionally confusing to thwart any efforts to rescue those held captive within its walls.

  Yet Zannah had persevered, never giving in to frustration or anger even when she was forced to turn around and go back the way she had come. Eventually, she knew, she would reach her destination.

  Up ahead she saw a faint glimmer of light spilling from around a corner, and she knew her patience had been rewarded. Moving forward, she found herself traveling through an illuminated corridor. She had reached the section of the facility that had been reopened; Bane had to be nearby.

  Tossing her glow lamp aside, she proceeded forward cautiously, keeping her awareness open to warn her before she ran across any guards even as she continued to home in on the cell where they were holding her Master.
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  She had gone less than a hundred meters when she felt a sudden and powerful disturbance in the Force. An instant later alarm bells rang out, and Zannah knew what had happened—Bane had escaped!

  Her lightsaber ignited with a buzzing hum, and she picked up her pace. She was no longer trying to sense any guards who might be ahead: with Bane on the loose she needed to focus on him. Her Master would be on the move, and she had come too far to lose him now.

  The alarms continued to ring out. Zannah ignored them, focusing instead on the flashes of power she felt through the Force, each one a beacon bringing her ever closer to Bane.

  She darted down a hall and around a corner. Up ahead she saw a door swinging freely on its hinges.

  He’s there. In that room or one just beyond it. She could sense his presence, his unmistakable power.

  Creeping along the wall she approached the edge of the door, then ducked into a roll and somersaulted through into the room beyond.

  The scene inside gave testament to the fact that Bane had been here. The mangled bodies of guards littered the room. A durasteel door hung askew on its hinges, revealing a steep staircase leading down to another room below.

  The dark side had been unleashed here only a few minutes ago. She could still feel its lingering power.

  She approached the staircase carefully, probing with her mind into the room below. Again, she felt the unmistakable power of her Master.

  He’s trapped.

  She broke off her efforts to track Bane and instead concentrated on using Sith sorcery to mask her own presence as she raced down the stairs. There was no need for her to be silent; with the alarms echoing throughout the prison, there was little chance he would hear her footsteps.

  She burst into the lower chamber only to be disappointed yet again. Another pile of dead guards were gathered around the remains of a table, but Bane was nowhere to be found. She had been tracking an echo of his power, and somehow she had missed the real thing.

  That’s impossible. Unless …