Ren walked slowly through the tunnels, considering the plight of the triplets. Their deaths bothered him in a way none had in years. An emptiness crept through his soul. They were simply too much like himself. Had they remained in the Jedi order, or been left alone altogether by both sides, they could have been happy and might have lived brilliant lives exploring and developing their connection. Destiny though, and the hideously myopic ways of the Sith had doomed them to die by his hands.

Several minutes into his walk, Ren heard Dalvin's voice say: "That was generous, I suppose – what you did for that girl. I admit, I have trouble with... the logic of the Sith religion."

"So do I," said Ren.

"If it's any consolation to you though, I would ultimately have done the same thing were I in your place."

"Really?" Ren said, surprised. "Why?"

"I have brushed very hard against death myself. I know what it is to have nothing in the universe but your own philosophy – your own self – to cling to when you're facing the end. You gave that girl her dignity as she died."

The words were not uplifting, but they did to quell Ren's guilt a touch, and put his action into perspective. "Thank you," he said. He strode on for several minutes in silence, and then said: "Have the madalorians attacked?"

"Oh no. I've been sending them... confusing signals from under the caves. From what they can tell, their men are several kilometers to the north of Neeka and Cathock's position. Their communications officer is rather stupid. I've been in his systems for hours and he still has no idea."

"Good," said Ren. "I don't think we should kill them off."

"I have been considering that matter myself. Are you thinking that, with the correct manipulation, we can use them against the Sith?"

"Yes," said Ren, elated to find that Dalvin was thinking along the same lines as he. "If nothing else, they are an excellent diversion to use."

"Our enemies could be thinking the same thing about them," said Dalvin.

"Against us? I doubt they respect us that much."

"Hah!" Dalvin laughed. "Difficult to ascertain whether their attitude is appropriate, isn't it?"

"I don't suppose it will take all that much longer to find out," said Ren.

"Actually, on that note," Dalvin said, sounding fairly excited, "I think I've located a very large collection of jewels, minerals and other potentially extremely valuable materials that don't belong on this planet for any logical reason."

"Where are they?"

"Incredibly deep under the surface... close enough to the planet's core that I should be picking up far more intense thermoscopic readings than I'm getting. Near as I can tell they are all inside semi-triangular metal shape. Based on its size, shape, and composition, I would guess it to be a fairly large spaceship. I might as well also mention that based on probe scans all over this damned planet, there is no where near the diversity of organic life necessary to produce intelligent beings. In other words, this planet is barely past its algae and protozoa stage. Beings who can think and talk shouldn't evolve for at least another three or four billion standard years."

"So they were brought here," Ren said.

"That would be the most logical assumption."

"Kalethian brought them here."

"Most likely, and he erased their entire cultural memory – maybe over a generation or two – and then created a religion for them with himself as God and all of them as subservient slaves. It's actually quite an impressive accomplishment," he paused, then added: "Don't tell Neeka I said that."

Ren chuckled, then said: "Are there energy readings from this ship?"

"I can't tell from here," said Dalvin. "I can't even scan the theoretical vessel at all. I'm really only extrapolating it's existence as I've described it from thousands of tiny pieces of data that don't add up together into anything else."

"Well, I suppose that's no more absurd than anything else here," said Ren.

"If you can get down to that ship and scan its databanks..." Davlin paused, and Ren could hear him breathing excitedly, "that would be worth almost as much to me as my share of the treasure."

"If the situation presents itself, I'll see what I can do," said Ren.

"Thank you. The additional ring I snapped to your wrist computer has its own memory drive of my design. It should have enough capacity to copy every last piece of data on a two-thousand year old ship computer, if the situation presents itself."

"Understood," said Ren. He thought for a moment, then said: "Dalvin, if you can invent such things, why do you need Sith treasure? I don't know much about how business works in the galaxy, but it seems you could start your own tech company, or even just create a couple of patents, and become extremely rich without putting yourself in danger like this."

"Ah, but no matter what I invent, I am more valuable, financially speaking. Almost any military force in the galaxy would probably give up a quarter of their annual budget to get their hands on me, and that includes the Sith."

"What are you?" said Ren, almost without thinking. He had preferred to respect the privacy of his companions, but the conversation had seemed to lead in this direction – not that Ren had much experience with conversation to go by.

"Haven't you guessed yet? I'm sure you have, but I'll tell you plainly: I am the most successful attempt anyone has ever made to infuse a biological brain with droid intelligence. Can you guess at the significance of that?"

Ren thought. This was indeed what he had suspected, from what he had felt from Dalvin's strangely working mind. "I suppose you have all the massive processing power of a droid combined with the creativity of a human."

"More or less. My mind can string together millions of variables in a single line of thought, and I can process them nearly a trillion times faster than your brain could. The trick was to integrate such power directly into the freethinking areas of the brain. Many droids can think as fast or even faster than I, but no matter how complicated their programming, they can never actually go very far beyond certain limitations. They cannot invent."

"And a military could use you to invent weapons for them," said Ren.

"Yes-s-s-s," said Dalvin. "Can you imagine the kind of advantage that would provide? What if I invented a beam weapon, mounted on a massive space-station, that could destroy an entire plant in a single blast?"

"You could really design something like that?"

"I already have. The plans are locked in my private files under the name Death Star."

Ren let out the smallest of chuckles. "Quite a name."

"I don't subscribe to understatement," said Dalvin.

"I would delete those plans if I were you. If they ever get out, you could be at least partially responsible for even more deaths than I am."

"That's a troubling thought. Then again I actually wish to be responsible for some death just now. A fourth ship has just passed through the portal. It's our friends, the Brotherhood. They're in communication with the mandalorian ship as we speak."

Ren considered this information. The new variable could work for or against his group, depending on how the equation played out. He did not wish to be distracted by them at the moment though. Thaleska had given him very good advice. Getting to the space-craft-core of the planet, which was perhaps the fabled tomb of Kalethian, was his best move.

"Do you have a plan?" Ren said.

"Oh, yes," said Dalvin, "I have very special plans for these scum." His voice took on a deranged sort of anger as he spoke on: "they hurt my darling little Neeka. They must all die screaming."

"Do you need help?"

"Not at all. They'll be taken care of within a few hours. I'll send you whatever I find in their data files on this world. Perhaps it will shed some light on the endless string of scientifically impossible facts we seem to keep unraveling."

"Good," said Ren. He paused, hesitating on a more subtle concern, then said: "Dalvin, I have very little experience in these maters, but... do you-"

"Am I in love with Neeka?" said Dalvin.

"Yes," said Ren, feeling oddly anxious.

"I anticipated you would ask that question. No. Neeka is like my little sister. She's probably the person who loves me most in all the universe. She is quite special. Unlike with Cathock and I, Neeka was able to break through all the programming the military gave her with ease. She's the reason we found our free will. I'd spent seventeen years of my life as an experimental machine, doing as I was told, when a little girl, barely taller than my knee, tore through the metal grates to the air-vents in my cell, dropped down from the wall, smiled at me, and asked me if I wanted to play. I loved her instantly – I didn't even know I had that capacity to love – but I did. If we had time I would tell you about the fascination of a child, so full of innocence, that could somehow, by her very nature, exceed all of the chemical and psycho-intensive programming placed upon her. Something in her, whether it was a genetic anomaly in her mutant brain or simply an aspect of her spirit, had the capacity to be something greater than the obedient, cold-blooded killer she was designed as. I've gone over her dossier hundreds of thousands of times and I've never been able to make sense of how she was able to do it, but she did, and it is the only reason I am not still in that damned room."

"I see," said Ren, picturing Neeka as a smiling little girl.

"As long as we are on the subject though, I would like to mention that if you cause that wonderful girl pain or harm, you and I shall be friends no longer, and I do my very best, which is quite considerable even in your terms, to take the proper vengeance upon you."

"Understood," said Ren, the words oddly making him smile. "I don't think it will be a concern."

"Good. I rather enjoy working with you."

"I with you as well," said Ren.

He walked on in silence for perhaps half an hour until he came back to the vast opening of the Krell tribe. Almost as soon as he came out of the tunnel he heard Neeka's voice cry: "Ren!" and she leaped from a hiding place behind a large stone and whipped across the stone floor at preternatural speed to him, throwing her arms around him as soon as she was on him and knocking him several feet back.

"Hello," he said gently.

She continued to hold his chest in her arms, but drew back enough to show an extremely happy and relieved smile. "Hi," she whispered. "I'm glad you're alright."

"I'm fine; no injuries."

She let go of him and drew back a little. "What happened to the Sith girls?"

Ren reached down and ran his fingers along the three new light sabers strapped to his belt. Neeka nodded in approval and said: "Good! They nearly made you and Cathock fight to the death. I'm glad they're dead." Ren looked down, remembering Thaleska's final moments. Neeka fidgeted and said: "What?"

"Nothing," Ren said. "Ask me some other time if you really wish to know."

"Alright," said said with a pause. Then her grin renewed itself and she said: "I knew you'd come back somehow."

Ren smiled gently at her. "I'm very glad I met you, Neeka. The words seemed to take Neeka by surprise. She said nothing, but let out a small giggle. "Let's go talk to Satral," Ren said, offering his hand to her. She took it eagerly, curling her fingers around his.

They walked back to the encampment of Krell. It was an encampment because Neeka and Cathock had organized the gray-skinned aliens at strategic spots throughout the city, some hidden behind large stones, some at open windows of structures build of stone and wood. The strange beings had many rifles – more than had been gathered from the dead mandalorians – and they looked to be holding them competently. Ren found he perceived all of them, and yet did not perceive them. They had a strange aura in the Force, as though they were all individuals and yet not individuals, like single cells in a large organism. He could not quite make sense of the impression.

Neeka led him to a small, wooden structure with a draped cloth for a door, which she drew back. The room was fairly empty and simple, and inside of it Satral sat on top of what looked like a finely woven circular mat. Outside of the mat beneath him, the stone floor glowed in a circle light emitting crystals, illuminating the room.

"Hello," said Satral, smiling at him. "I observed your fight through the great one's eyes. You passed his test beautifully, and he has a reward for you. Would you like it?"

"Not yet," said Ren. His mind flashed to Thaleska's tears, and he said: "I want to know where all of this is going. Why is your master granting me his knowledge?"

"Because he deems you worthy?" said Satral plainly.

"But what is his purpose? Why share knowledge with me?"

"I do not know the great one's mind; I only serve his will."

"Is he trying to shape me into a Sith lord?"

A gentle laugh passed from Satral. "You speak of the old religion of the great one's world. I wish I had a better historical knowledge of such things, but that is not his will. I suppose I will be bold enough with you, Ren Blakthar, to tell you those things I have come to understand through a lifetime of dedication to the great one. The master, you must understand, left his world – at least in part – out of a strong... distaste for the Sith people. Their philosophy did not fulfill his mind and soul. He was powerful beyond compare and he had lived for centuries, contemplating what you call the Force with all the faculties of his brilliant, and very nearly omnipotent mind. I must say again that I do not know the master's thoughts, but I will dare to suggest that after keeping away from the Sith for two millennia, his purpose is not to make you into one of them."

"What was the nature of his distaste for the Sith ways?" said Ren.

"I do not know," said Satral.

"Can you tell me anything about what his philosophy became?"

"The master does not divulge such things to me."

Ren rolled his eyes. "Your people here believe that they were created by Kalethian. Did he at least provide you with a system of ethics?"

"We have laws, if that is your question. Kalethian has instructed us on issues such as marriage and economy."

"What about morality? Do you have a system of good and evil, or right or wrong?"

Satral seemed slightly confused by this question. "We are created to serve," he said, as if this were a complete answer.

"Well, you seem to have some purpose here, but what do the rest of this planet's millions of inhabitants do for your great one?"

"Many things. They believe in him, worship him, nourish him with their life-forces, provide exploration for his mind. The great one is in every Krell. He relishes in our emotions – in our flesh. He lives through us."

Ren sighed. All the answers this old man was giving seemed only to lead to more questions. Ren gazed down into the ancient, silver eyes of the Krell and wondered what inspired such a being. He probed into the old man's psyche deeper than he had before, looking into what felt like the old man's soul. Ren sensed that both the light and dark sides of the Force existed in Satral, the way they did in Ren, and yet unlike with himself there seemed to be a sort of barrier holding either side back from taking predominance over the other. When he saw this, he realized why he had instinctively thought of the Krell as incomplete, and unreal people: they did not have true free will.

Might the ancient Sith be eroding away his own freewill along with the infusion of knowledge? Ren searched his own consciousness for evidence, detected no impairment of access to all of his emotions and thoughts. Still, the fact that he could not detect tampering with his mind was not complete proof that tampering had not taken place.

As he gazed down at the Satral, he wondered if he had any sort of choice. From everything he knew, he had very little chance against Darth Sarak with without Kalethian's knowledge, especially if Sakar came upon that same knowledge himself. He was in a competition where the loser had to die.

Ren swallowed and slowly reached out for the old man's bald head. There was no point in turning back now that he had begun. The ancient master might give him something more useful this time. As soon as their skin touched a vast expanse of knowledge entered Ren's mind, far greater than before. What filled his consciousness was not a simple technique, but a flood of unconscious understanding about how the Force worked. He suddenly understood what Darth Kalethian had understood thousands of years before: the Force was connected to every event in the universe, and thus any event in the universe could be manipulated.

Suddenly Ren saw an opulent throne room of remarkable architecture, covered in ancient Sith runes that he fully understood. Ren was in this room and he possessed powers beyond anything he had ever imagined. He was Kalethian. As the great Sith Lord, he moved to the edge of a balcony where he gazed out into a cool night sky. He reached out with his hands and let his mind expand to the clouds, sensing all the electricity and moisture within them. He stretched the tendrils of his mind over kilometers of these clouds and then focused his will. A calm evening shifted to a raging thunderstorm in seconds, rain falling on the distant structures below. He did this simply to exercise his power. It had been too easy.

An instant later Ren was standing in a different room, though one still covered in Sith runes. He was facing a Sith lord of terrible power – one who was nearly as big as Cathock. Ren was almost bored as the fight began. The massive brute charged him and Ren's right hand moved his lightsaber automatically - even without effort. Ren was faster than he had ever imagined even a Sith could be. Blow after blow came, and he deflected them all with such ease that the fight was not a fight at all. He was only toying with his prey.