Drew Karpyshyn - Rule of Two (Star Wars: Darth Bane, Book 2)

To my parents, Ron and Viv, and my youngersister, Dawn

This book came together in the space of onlysix months-an unbelievably short time to transform an idea into a finished workon the shelves. I'd like to thank everyone at Lucas Licensing Ltd. and Del ReyBooks who was part of this incredible accomplishment, along with a specialthanks to my wife, Jennifer. Without her help and understanding I don't thinkthis would have been possible given the deadlines I was working under. But mostof all, I'd like to thank all the fans who bought Darth Bane: Path ofDestruction. Without your support, this sequel never would have happened. Youhave my sincere and humble gratitude.

Darovit made his stumbling way through thebodies that littered the battlefield, his mind numb with grief and horror. Herecognized many of the dead: some were servants of the light side, allies ofthe Jedi; others were followers of the dark side, minions of the Sith. And evenin his dazed stupor, Darovit couldn't help but wonder which side he belongedwith.

A few months earlier he'd still gone by hischildhood name, Tomcat. Back then he'd been nothing more than a thin,dark-haired boy of thirteen living with his cousins Rain and Bug back on thesmall world of Somov Rit. They had heard rumblings of the never-ending warbetween the Jedi and the Sith, but they never thought it would touch theirquiet, ordinary lives... until the Jedi scout had come to see Root, theirappointed guardian.

General Hoth, leader of the Jedi Army ofLight, was desperate for more Jedi, the scout had explained. The fate of theentire galaxy hung in the balance. And the children under Root's care had shownan affinity for the Force.

At first Root had refused. He claimed hischarges were too young to go off to war. But the scout had persisted. Finally,realizing that if the children did not go to the Jedi, the Sith might come andtake them forcibly, Root had relented. Darovit and his cousins had left SomovRit with the Jedi scout and headed for Ruusan. At the time, the children hadthought it was the beginning of a grand adventure. Now Darovit knew better.

Too much had happened since they'd all arrivedon Ruusan. Everything had changed. And the youth-for he had lived through toomuch in the past weeks to be called a boy anymore-didn't understand any of it.

He'd come to Ruusan full of hope and ambition,dreaming of the glory that would be his when he helped General Hoth and theJedi Army of Light defeat the Sith serving in Lord Kaan's Brotherhood ofDarkness. But there was no glory to be found on Ruusan; not for him. And notfor his cousins.

Rain had died even before their ship toucheddown on Ruusan. They'd been ambushed by a squadron of Sith Buzzards onlyseconds after they broke atmosphere, the tail of their vessel shorn off in theattack. Darovit had watched in horror as Rain was swept away by the blast,literally ripped from his arms before plunging to an unseen death hundreds ofmeters below.

His other cousin, Bug, had died only a few minutesago, a victim of the thought bomb, his spirit consumed by the terrible power ofLord Kaan's final, suicidal weapon. Now he was gone. Like all the Jedi and allthe Sith. The thought bomb had destroyed every living being strong enough towield the power of the Force. Everyone except Darovit. And this he couldn'tunderstand.

In fact, nothing on Ruusan made any sense tohim. Nothing! He'd arrived expecting to see the legendary Army of Light he'dheard about in stories and poems: heroic Jedi defending the galaxy against thedark side of the Force. Instead he'd witnessed men, women, and other beings whofought and died like common soldiers, ground into the mud and blood of thebattlefield.

He'd felt cheated. Betrayed. Everything he'dheard about the Jedi had been a lie. They weren't shining heroes: their clotheswere soiled with grime; their camp stank of sweat and fear. And they werelosing! The Jedi whom Darovit had encountered on Ruusan were defeated anddowntrodden, weary from the seemingly endless series of battles against LordKaan's Sith, stubbornly refusing to surrender even when it was clear theycouldn't win. And all the power of the Force couldn't restore them to theshining icons of his naive imagination.

There was movement on the far edge of thebattlefield. Squinting against the sun, Darovit saw half a dozen figures slowlymaking their way through the carnage, gathering up the fallen bodies of friendand foe alike. He wasn't alone-others had survived the thought bomb too!

He ran forward, but his excitement cooled ashe drew close enough to make out the features of those tasked with cleaning thebattlefield. He recognized them as volunteers from the Army of Light. Not Jedi,but ordinary men and women who'd sworn allegiance to Lord Hoth. The thoughtbomb had only taken those with sufficient power to touch the Force:Non-Force-using folk like these were immune to its devastating effects. ButDarovit wasn't like them. He had a gift. Some of his earliest memories were ofusing the Force to levitate toys for the amusement of his younger cousin Rain,when they were both children. These people had survived because they wereordinary, plain. They weren't special like he was. Darovit's survival was amystery-just one more thing about all this he didn't understand.

As he approached, one of the figures sat downon a rock, weary from the task of gathering the dead. He was an older man,nearly fifty. His face looked drawn and haggard, as if the grim task had sappedhis mental reserves along with the physical. Darovit recognized his featuresfrom those first few weeks he'd spent in the Jedi camp, though he'd neverbothered to learn the old man's name.

A sudden realization froze Darovit in histracks. If he recognized the man, then the man might also recognize him. Hemight remember Darovit. He might know the young man was a traitor.

The truth about the Jedi had disgustedDarovit. Repulsed him. His illusions and daydreams crushed by the weight ofharsh reality, he'd acted like a spoiled child and turned against the Jedi.Seduced by easy promises of the dark side's power, he'd switched sides in thewar and thrown himself in with the Brotherhood of Darkness. It was only nowthat he understood how wrong he'd been.

The realization had come upon him as he'dwitnessed Bug's death-a death for which he was partly responsible. Too late hehad learned the true cost of the dark side. Too late he understood that,through the thought bomb, Lord Kaan's madness had brought devastation upon themall.

He was no longer a follower of the Sith; he nolonger hungered to learn the secrets of the dark side. But how could this oldman, a devoted follower of General Hoth, know that? If he remembered Darovit,he would remember him only as the enemy.

For a second he thought about trying toescape. Just turn and run, and the tired old man still catching his breathwouldn't be able to stop him. It was the kind of thing he'd once done all thetime. But things were different now. Whether it was from guilt, maturity, orsimply a desire to see it all end, Darovit didn't run away. Whatever fateawaited him, he chose to stay and face it.

Moving with slow but determined steps, heapproached the rock where the man was sitting, seemingly lost in thought.Darovit was only a few meters away when the man finally glanced up toacknowledge him.

There was no glint of recognition in his eyes.There was only an empty, haunted look.

"All of them," the man mumbled,though whether he was talking to Darovit or himself wasn't clear. "All theJedi and all of the Sith ... all gone."

The man turned his head, fixing his vacantstare on the dark entrance to a small cave nearby. A chill went through Darovitas he realized what the man was talking about. The entrance led underground,through twisting tunnels to the cavern deep beneath the ground where Kaan andhis Sith had gathered to unleash the thought bomb.