No doubt Darth Bane had foreseen this outcome. For the next several years the eyes of the Republic would be focused intently on Serenno and its campaign to snuff out the separatist elements that had infiltrated its culture.
"Don't move" a familiar female voice hissed in her ear, and Zannah felt the muzzle of a blaster press itself hard into the flesh of her lower back.
"I'm surprised you'd dare to show your face in public," Zannah whispered without turning around to face the Chiss standing close behind her. "There's a lot of credits being offered for your head."
"Thanks to you," Cyndra snapped back, jabbing her painfully with the weapon. "Now start walking. Slowly."
There were a dozen ways Zannah could turn the tables on Cyndra, but each of them involved a display of dark side power she wasn't willing to make in the crowded market square. So she did as ordered, making her way past the vendor stalls as she waited for the right moment to make her move. Cyndra followed close, pressing tight up against her to shield the blaster at Zannah's back with her own body.
"Where are you taking me?" Zannah asked her.
"We're going to see Hetton," Cyndra snarled. "He's got some questions for you."
How convenient, Zannah thought. Vve got some questions for him, too.
Cyndra took her down a narrow alley leading away from the market square to a deserted side street.
"Stand still or I shoot" she warned Zannah, then pulled a comlink from her belt. "I've got her," she said. "Come pick us up."
In less than a minute an airspeeder swooped down to land on the far side of the street. Zannah wasn't surprised to see Paak sitting in the pilot's seat. He jumped out as the Chiss marched her prisoner over to the vehicle.
"Told you she'd come back," he said to his companion.
"Just search her for weapons," she answered-
Paak leered at Zannah as he roughly patted her down. "What have we here?" he exclaimed, discovering her only weapon and holding it up for inspection.
The handle of Zannah's lightsaber was slightly longer than normal to accommodate the twin crystals required to power the blades that extended from either end. However, while most traditional double-bladed weapons had blades each measuring a meter and a half or more, those of Zannah's lightsaber were slightly under a meter in length. This small but significant difference was critical to the way in which she used her weapon…
"The smaller blades give you greater speed and maneuverability," her Master explained as the fourteen-year-old Zannah twirled her newly constructed lightsaber in her left hand, focusing on mastering the feel of its unique balance and weight.
"Crip the handle lightly in your fingers. Control the weapon with your wrist and hand rather than the muscles of your arm. You will sacrifice reach and leverage, but you will be able to create a shield of impenetrable defense."
"Defense will not slay my enemy," Zannah remarked, smoothly transferring the spinning crimson blades from her left hand to her right and back again.
"You lack the physical strength required for the powerful attacking strikes ofDjem So or the other aggressive forms" her Master explained. "You must rely on quickness, cunning and, most of all, patience to best your enemies."
He ignited his own lightsaber and took a long, looping swing in her direction. Zannah intercepted the blow with her own weapon, easily deflecting it to the side.
"Form three allows you to parry incoming attacks with minimal effort," he told her. "Your opponent must expend precious energy with each blow, slowly tiring while you remain fresh and strong."
Bane seized the hook-handled grip of his own lightsaber with both hands and raised it high over his head, then brought it straight down in a fierce chop. Using the techniques he had made her practice for two hours each day over the past year, Zannah meet her Master's blade with one of her own. Had she tried to meet it head-on, the strength of his attack would have driven her own weapon back into her, or knocked the lightsaber from her hand. Instead she clipped his blade with a glancing contact, rerouting it so that it continued its downward arc at an angle, passing harmlessly a few centimeters from her shoulder.
"Good" Bane said approvingly, winding up for another heavy-handed swipe. "Do not block. Redirect. Wait for opponents to become weary or frustrated. Let them make a mistake, then seize the opening and make them pay."
To illustrate his point Bane took a wild swipe that she easily picked off. The momentum of his swing caused him to lean too far forward, exposing his shoulder and back to her counterattack. With a flick of her wrist Zannah directed her own weapon toward the opening. She scored a direct hit, one of her twin blades tracing a ten-centimeter~long slash across his shoulder that would have severed the arm of any other opponent.
In Bane's case, however, the blade only cut through the cloth of his shirt and left a small scorch mark on the impregnable shell of the or-balisk beneath.
"You're dead!" she exclaimed triumphantly, still twirling her blade so that it never lost momentum.
Bane nodded in approval But it was early, and the day's lesson had only just begun.
"Again," he commanded in the stern taskmaster's voice he always used during their drills and practice sessions…
"What is this? A lightsaber?" Paak muttered, turning the handle over in his hands. "Where'd you get this? You steal it off a Jedi or something?"
Zannah didn't bother to answer. There was nobody else in view; the three of them were alone in the deserted street. She could easily have ended their lives right there and escaped. But they had said they were taking her to Hetton, and she was most eager to meet the founder of the Anti-Republic Liberation Front.
"Helton's going to be very interested in this," he remarked. "Very, very interested."
"Come on. Let's get moving" Cyndra told him. "I don't want to keep Hetton waiting. He's mad enough at us already."
Paak tossed the lightsaber onto the passenger seat in the front, then climbed into the pilot's chair.
"Get in the back," Cyndra ordered Zannah, waving the blaster's nose threateningly.
She did as she was told, and a second later Cyndra climbed in beside her, still keeping her weapon trained on Zannah. The airspeeder lifted off the ground, whisking them through the city and out to the countryside beyond.
"How long until we get there?" Zannah asked.
"Shut your kriffing mouth," Cyndra answered. "They'll be plenty of time to talk when you explain to Hetton why you betrayed us."
"Kel always was a sucker for a pretty face" Paak said, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "Always knew it would be the death of him. If he was smart he would have just stuck with you, Cyndra"
Cyndra's red eyes narrowed angrily. "Shut up and drive, Paak."
"You and Kel?" Zannah said, legitimately surprised. "I'm sorry. I didn't know"
"Neither did Cyndra," Paak said with a laugh. "At least not until you showed up at our meeting. She wanted to kill you right there. Lucky for you she's a professional."
The rest of the ride passed in silence as they made their way farther and farther from the city. Soon they passed into the country estates of the noble families, confirming Zannah's suspicion that Hetton was a member of a powerful Serenno house. She wondered what would happen to him now that the political climate of Caran-nia had turned so strongly against the separatists.
The speeder continued on, passing over lavish rose gardens that stretched for acres, the irrigation provided by exquisite fountains while armies of staff clipped and pruned to keep each individual flower in a perfect, pristine state.
An enormous mansion loomed in the distance; in truth it looked more like a castle than a home. The flag flying from one of the many turrets was a bright red, emblazoned with a single eight-pointed star of gold. Zannah suspected it was derived from the five-pointed star of the Demici Great House. Apparently Helton's family were distant relations of the Demicis that had earned the right to create their own variation on the family crest.