He had been invincible, untouchable, the top apprentice in every discipline. He'd heard the rumors and the whispers. They called him the Sith'ari, the perfect being. Only they wouldn't be calling him the Sith'ari now. Not after what Bane had done to him.
He turned to the door and found Githany standing there, watching him. "What do you want?" he asked warily.
He knew who she was, though he'd never actually spoken to her. On the day of her arrival he'd identified her as a potential threat. He'd watched her, and he'd seen her watching him, each measuring and gauging the other, trying to determine who had the upper hand. Sirak was wary of all potential challengers, or so he had thought, until the one student he'd feared the least had brought him down.
"I came to speak to you," she answered. "About Bane."
He twitched involuntarily at the name, then cursed himself for his reaction. If Githany had noticed, she gave no indication.
"What about him?" he asked curtly.
"I'm curious as to what your plans are now. How are you going to handle this situation?"
It was a struggle to summon up his old arrogance, yet somehow he managed a satisfactory sneer. "My plans are my own."
"Are you going to seek revenge?" she pressed.
"In time, perhaps," he finally admitted.
"I can help you."
She took a step farther into the room. Even in that single step Sirak could see that she moved with the sensual grace of a Zeltron veil dancer. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"
"I helped Bane defeat you," she said. "I recognized his potential from the moment I first saw him. When Qordis and the other Masters turned their backs on him, I secretly taught him their lessons in the Force. I knew the dark side was strong in him. Stronger than in me. Stronger than in you. Maybe even stronger than in the Masters themselves."
Sirak couldn't see the point of her story. "You still haven't answered my question. You got what you wanted out of Bane. Why help me now?"
She shook her head sadly. "I was wrong about Bane. I thought if helped him grow stronger, he would embrace the dark side. Then I could learn from him and gain power of my own. But he is incapable of embracing the dark side. Everyone else believes his triumph over you was a great victory. Only I recognized it as a failure."
She was toying with him. Mocking him. And he didn't like it. "No one ever beat me in the dueling ring before Bane!" he snapped. "How can you call him a failure?"
"You're still alive," she said simply. "When the moment came to strike you down and end your life, he hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He was weak."
Intrigued, Sirak didn't respond right away. Instead he waited for her to elaborate.
"He plotted and planned for months to take his revenge on you," she continued. "His hate gave him the strength to surpass you… and at the last instant he showed mercy and let you live."
"I left him alive at the end of our first duel," Sirak reminded her.
"That was no act of mercy, it was an act of contempt. You thought you had utterly destroyed him. If you knew he would rise up to one day challenge you again, you would have taken his life regardless of the rules of the Academy.
"You underestimated him. A mistake I know you won't make again. But Bane does not underestimate you. He knows you are powerful enough to represent a true threat. Yet still he left you alive, knowing you would one day seek revenge against him. He is either a weakling or a fool," she concluded, "and I want no part of either."
There was some truth in what she said, but Sirak still wasn't convinced. "You change allegiances too quickly, Githany. Even for a Sith." She was silent for a long time, trying to figure out how to answer him. Then suddenly she looked down at the floor, and when she looked up her eyes were filled with shame and humiliation.
"It was Bane who ended this alliance, not me," she admitted, nearly choking on the words. "He abandoned me," she continued, making no attempt to hide her bitterness. "He left the Academy. He never told me why. He never even said good-bye."
Suddenly everything fell into place. Sirak understood her sudden desire to join with him in a partnership against her former ally. Githany was used to being in control. She was used to being in charge. She was used to being the one who ended things. And she didn't like being on the other side.
It was like the old Corellian expression: Fear the wrath of a female scorned.
"Where did he go?" he asked.
"The students are saying Qordis sent him out into the Valley of the Dark Lords."
Sirak nearly blurted out, Then he's dead already! but at the last second he remembered her admonishment not to underestimate Bane again. Instead he said, "You expect he will return."
"I'm certain of it."
"Then we will be ready," Sirak promised. "When he comes back, we will destroy him."
As Bane marched across the scorched sand of Korriban's wastelands, he noticed the sun sinking quickly below the horizon. He'd been walking for hours beneath its heat; the small city of Dreshdae and the temple that towered over it were far behind him. They had been reduced to mere specks on the horizon; if he was to look back, he would have just been able to make them out in the fading light.
He didn't look back. He marched doggedly onward. The blazing heat hadn't slowed him; neither would temperatures that were about to drop to near freezing with the setting of the sun. Physical discomfort, cold, heat, thirst, hunger, fatigue, had no significant effect on him, sustained as he was by the power of the Force.
Still, he was troubled. He remembered the first time he'd set foot on Korriban. He'd sensed the power of the world: Korriban was alive with the dark side. Yet the feeling had been faint and distant. During his time at the Academy he'd grown so accustomed to the almost subconscious hum that he barely even noticed it anymore.
When he'd left the temple and the starport behind, he'd expected that feeling to grow stronger. With each step drawing him closer to the Valley of the Dark Lords he thought he'd feel the dark side growing in its intensity.
Instead he'd felt nothing. No noticeable change at all. He was only a few kilometers away from the valley's entrance; he could see the shaded outlines of the nearest tombs carved from the stone walls. And still the dark side was no stronger than a hollow echo, no more than the lingering memory of distant words spoken in the distant past.
Pushing his doubts and reservations aside, he redoubled his pace. He wanted to reach the valley before complete darkness. He had grabbed a handful of glow rods before leaving the Academy; he could use them to find his way if necessary. Unfortunately, their light would act like a beacon in the darkness, signaling his location to anyone, or anything. With his new lightsaber at his side he was confident he could survive almost any encounter, but there were things that lurked near the tombs whose attention he would rather not attract.
The last few rays of light still hung in the air when he finally reached his destination. The Valley of the Dark Lords lay sprawled out before him, hidden beneath the cover of twilight's gloom. He briefly considered stopping for the night and making camp until dawn, then rejected the idea. Day or night would make no difference once he was inside the tombs: he'd have to use the glow rods no matter what time it was. And now that he was finally here he was too eager to see what he could find to put it off any longer.