Valia Renn twisted out of the way as Shyrack's lightsaber zipped past her, and the glowing blade barely missed her chest as she continued to fall. She dare not lose focus on his windpipe as she Force choked him. If she stopped, she would die.

Sure enough, Darth Shyrack made another pass for her, his lightsaber prepared for a swipe to her head.

When he got close enough, Valia twisted out of the way of his swipe, grabbing onto his jetpack's straps as he frantically tried to shake her off by doing loops in the air. But Valia held on doggedly and began punching him.

Shyrack hit a device on his belt. It emitted a high pitched whine. The sound irritated Valia, who was unsure whether it was meant to signal for help or to stun her. Either way, he was going to be dead in a minute or so. Valia slammed her fist into his mask, wrapping her fingers around the air hose to suffocate him. Shyrack yelled in frustration.

Valia slammed her elbow into him, hard enough for Shyrack to become dizzy and send them both plummeting to the ground at lethal speeds. Shyrack soon became conscious and pulled back up, making her stomach lurch.

"You're dead now!" he yelled, again doing a loop to try and toss her. "My brothers are on their way as I speak."

"Fine! I'll kill them too!" she roared back at him as she tried to strangle him. She managed to get a good grip on his throat and pulled out her knife, trying to stick it into his mask as the pair flew through the night sky.

It was a complete surprise when a pair of muscular hands ripped her from her prey, and Valia felt a flutter of panic as she felt gravity began to pull at her

Shyrack's minions had arrived. They were equipped in almost the same way he was, save, that their armor was dark blue and their jet packs seemed slightly smaller.

Before the minion could drop her to her death, however, Valia twisted herself from his grasp and managed to get her hands around his neck. He began a spiral try and shake her but she held on, righting each other in mid air on a straight flight pattern. She brutally headbutted her new transportation, knocking him out cold. She pulled out her blaster and fired at a minion who had been speeding towards her, lightsaber raised. His head popped like a melon as the bolt hit.

Out of the corner of her eye, Valia saw more of Shyracks minions speeding towards her with their jet packs, intent on pulling her off this one as well. Knowing she couldn't fight all of them, Valia instead used her strength to force her captive minion to fly to the others. Just a few seconds before she reached them, she broke her captives neck and leapt off of him, letting the dead body slam and explode into two others.

Time crawled to an agonizingly slow speed, as Valia pulled out her knife, jamming her knife into the forehead of the third which she took as her next means of remaining in the air. Righting herself, with her positioned precariously on the dead minion's stomach, she used the knife stuck in his forehead as a makeshift steering handle as she turned back to the fight, intent on making Shyrack next.

But Valia spotted a threat from below. A minion flying up towards her as five more charged at her, trying to trap her between two angles of assault. One of the minions charging at her flung his lightsaber at her.

Valia snorted, grabbed the hilt as it flew past her, and flung it back at him, decapitating him. The body began to fly to the ground.

The next few seconds were critical. Valia drew her sword in a lightning fast motion, and leapt off her ride, plummeting to the minion below her, who she decapitated and grabbed onto in another super fast motion. The minions who had been charging right at her hesitated, having not clearly seen her opponent's demise. Valia made them pay for their hesitation. Yelling a oath too vile to repeat, she drew her pistol and fired at all three of them, at the same time desperately dodging their return fire, knowing one stray shot would be all that was needed to turn her into a fireball. She fired madly; igniting the fuel in one of her enemy's packs and making him explode, taking out the remaining two as well

This gave Shyrack the chance he needed.

Swooping down, Shyrack pulled Valia off the dead minion and tried to drop her yet again, but her survival instinct kicked back in and she held onto his left arm with a death grip.

"Impressive. An ordinary person would be worm food by now. You are indeed a worthy opponent. I've never lost that many minions before."

"Rude awakening, ain't it?" Valia grumbled, reaching for his belt.

"Not really." With all his might, Shyrack finally tossed her off of him.

Valia grinned as she fell.

Darth Shyrack was puzzled as he saw Valia plummet to the ground. Why was she smiling?

The he heard a beeping noise; he looked on his belt and saw that Valia had made one final gesture of defiance.

She had activated one of the frag grenades on his belt.

Shyrack sighed. "Oh, sh-"

The explosion from Darth Shyrack killed three more of his minions who had grouped around him. Valia gave a grunt as a part of his arm flew past her.

Valia took a look below her as she fell. There was no way she could survive a hit to the ground, but there was a large lake close to where she was about to hit. Just maybe...

Valia tried to steer her way through the air, spreading her arms to increase drag. And then she began gathering the Force around her body, straining from the effort. Even the best Force armor might not be enough to survive an impact from the water from this high up, but she had to try.

When she was thirty seconds from the ground, Valia's life began flashing before her eyes. Strangely, there was one memory she settled on...

Dantooine, 19 years ago...

It was not long before Valia spotted an absolutely fuming Atris and a rather cross looking Kavar. Valia thought Atris might start yelling at her.

"Do you realize you just insulted my Master in front of the whole class?" she sputtered.

"I did not insult him, Atris. I criticized him. There is a difference. An insult would be calling him and old, wrinkled, nerfherding Laigrek."

Though Kavar tried to remain very stern, for just a second Valia saw a small smile in his eyes. Then his gaze hardened as he spoke.

"That was very unwise of you. Where do you get off making such a baseless accusation?"

Valia paused, turning to Atris. "Atris, will you do something for me?"

Atris eyed her suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Could you walk about five steps and then stop?"

Atris did as she asked, seeing no reason to object, though she was still wary.

"What was the point of that?" Kavar asked, unsure where this was going.

"Look at her stance. It is hard to spot unless you are really paying attention. Her gait and walk were almost exactly the same as Master Vrook's when he was asked to leave. That was how I saw how he was training her. There's a flaw in her footwork when she tries to move to the left during combat. Vrook had it and he passed it on to Atris," Valia answered, thankful her ability to read movement was strengthening as the days passed. A few days ago, she would not have noticed the flaws herself. Working in nameless kitchens in Coruscants underbelly had eroded some of her sharpness, despite sincere efforts to retain it. But now it was back. And stronger than it had ever been.

Kavar studied Atris closely, looking as though he might be considering the argument. Then he turned back to Valia.

"Hmmm. maybe so, Padawan, but you were still exceptionally rude to Vrook. Remember, he is on the Council, and you do not want him to hold you in disfavor any more than he already does. You do have a place in the Order, but you have not found it yet and your blunt manner of speech does you no good. Tread lightly, Padawan," Kavar said with as much academic disapproval he could muster.

Valia, instead of arguing with him, stayed silent. The man had a point, her blunt nature had indeed caused her problems before, and might yet again, and Valia didn't want him angry at her-he had shown her too much kindness in steering her to the Jedi. Kindness she would be sure to repay.

"I understand, Master. I will not do it again in the future."

Kavar still looked cross. Valia wondered if he might yet punish her. But his gaze softened.

"Good to know. Remember, you were extremely lucky that you were not disciplined: more so now that I have decided not to either. You must learn your place," Kavar finished.

"I will, Master,' Valia replied, relieved.

Kavar's demeanor shifted from disapproving master to intrigued teacher.

"But, aside from that verbal bout with Vrook, I was very impressed with your combat ability: You learned your lessons well. What was that style you were using?"

Valia looked at him quizzically. "It was Soresu."

"If it was, Valia, then I have to say that was the strangest version of the style I've ever seen," Atris commented. "Cariaga is the fourth best duelist in the academy: Defeating her is no small effort considering she used that odd tonfa weapon. I mean, you just swatted her around like a fly. I know for a fact you injured her so greatly that she won't be allowed to participate in the tournament."

Valia caught the wary look in Atris' eye, and was discomforted by the fact it looked all too much like fear. Valia began to wonder if Atris held a concern for Cariaga that was detached from her association with Revan's clique, as she was usually quick to approve any action that hampered Revan's chances. But not this time.

Atris at the moment...almost seemed like she was scared of Valia.

It was not something Valia welcomed. That look of fear had been in the eyes of too many who had faced her. She did not want old habits starting up with her new friends.

"I...apologize for that. I...sometimes forget it isn't a real duel." Valia's eye darkened for a second, trying to compose herself.

"Even so, try not to injure anybody like that again. You'd be amazed at how unpopular that makes you," Atris responded.

Valia blinked. "Did you just make a joke, Atris?"

"No," Atris said. But even as she answered, Valia saw some cheer return to Atris' face.

"I see. I will try not to."

"Well, then now that that is settled, Padawan, I would like to see you in the training area. I'm curious about the Soresu you used," Kavar said, relaxing himself.

"Very well, Master." Valia smoothed her robes, turning to Atris. "I'll see you later."

Atris nodded and headed off to the students quarters to began assigning chores for the students in this wing while Valia walked away with Kavar.

What Valia saw in the training area with Mical shocked her.

Mical was sparring with Alek-and doing poorly.

But Mical was doing poorly on purpose.

Valia assessed the boy's style. It was deliberately belabored, designed to fool an opponent into carelessness. Whatever Mical had up his sleeve, it was very, very nasty. Even she had been fooled.

Alek, however, was not entirely taking in by the ruse. He had been probing Mical's tactics for the past five minutes and had discovered the fatal flaw. As much as it was designed to fool the opponent, one had to be doubly careful against a fighter who wasn't fooled by the feigned weakness. Unless Mical showed his hand now, he would be staring at the business end of Alek's lightsaber.

Alek knocked Mical to the ground. So the boy had decided to be reserved. Good, Valia thought, taking a good look at Mical's lightsaber, a simple, yet elegant hilt with some delicate runes etched into the emitter shroud, gold in color. The orange blade was compact and clearly defined, showing an excellant choice in focusing crystals. Besides Revan's, it was the best lightsaber hilt she had seen so far. The boy certainly had taste...and more than a fair amount of cunning, which was good for a prospective warrior.

"Hmm...I don't know if it's such a good idea for you to participate, Mical. To be honest, I'm surprised you passed the requirement class! Unless you're fooling me somehow?" Alek asked with amusement.

"No, Y-you're too much for me," Mical stammered, careful to look defeated.

"Well, as long as you practice really hard, You should be alright. And look who it is!" Alek said, spotting Valia, looking like he was ready to drop to his knees and worship the very ground she walked on. "The bloody hero of the hour!"

Valia snorted in mild derision.

"I'm a bit curious to know what you could possibly mean by that, Padawan," Kavar asked sternly, his gaze indicating that Alek had better explain himself.

Alek stood straight and folded his arms behind his back. "My and Revan's feelings toward Master Vrook are well known. I do not think it wise to go into detail beyond that."

Kavar continued to stare at him sternly for a moment but then sighed. "As you wish."

Valia, who had been watching the whole exchange, suddenly got the feeling a great deal more had been communicated between the two than they were willing to let on.

"So, you hear to train?" Alek asked hopefully, breaking the strange moment. "That was the weirdest Soresu I've ever seen anybody use. I'd love to test it, if you would indulge me."

"I'm afraid Padawan Valia will have to pass this time. I am increasing her training," Kavar said.

Alek's face fell a bit. "Oh well, all right then. Perhaps next time?"

Valia nodded wordlessly. Alek grinned and walked out. Mical smiled at her before he too left them to the circular training room by themselves.

Kavar took out one lightsaber. A blue blade shot out. Valia made note of the hilt design. It was straight, simple, with a dark blue finish to the metal.

If it hadn't been for the finish, it would have looked remarkably like her own. But she had built it before she had even met him, so it was little more than a coincidence.

"Tell me, Valia, where are you from?" he asked casually, going into an Ataru stance.

"Far off," Valia answered the sounds of battle starting up in her head.

"Oh, I know that. It's clear you aren't from Coruscant. So where, exactly?"

"From...the outer rim," Valia answered uneasily, images of fire and death swelling in her head.

"Do you have parents? A mother?"

"I do not see what this has to do with my training," Valia said.

"What, I can't get to know my own student?" he asked with a laugh. Valia could tell the laugh was a bit strained. Forced. It was odd for him.

Valia suppressed a sigh. Now she was making her own master uncomfortable.

There should always be trust between a Master and an Apprentice. Her old masters, as brutal and unrelenting as they had been in their instruction of her, had nonetheless earned her respect. They demanded much, but gave much in return.

It should be no less with Kavar.

"My...mother died during birth. I was raised by my stepmother and father," Valia answered as they clashed for the first time, the blades grinding against one another.

Strangely, Kavar's face seemed to fall at this. Then he asked another question.

"Tell me about them,"

"It...is difficult for me to speak of them. My stepmother I could probably talk about. My father...no. My hatred for that betrayer knows no bounds. I...I get rather worked up and I see red when I start thinking about him. He gave me this, you know," Valia said bitterly, gesturing to her eye patch.

"Tell me about your stepmother."

Valia paused, perplexed. Something was wrong here, but she didn't quite know what that something was. Shouldn't they be sparring?

Whatever. For some reason, she didn't feel like being her usual evasive self.

"She was a-a kind woman. Raised me as her own. I never saw all her face-she wore a shawl over the top half of it-but I knew she had a mother's concern when she looked at me. Her name was...Katsu."

Kavar nodded. "Go on."

What the hell is he asking for? Valia wondered.

"I don't know why I can still speak of her...she...betrayed me too, didn't she?" Valia wondered aloud. Suddenly, she felt this haze in her mind that had been getting stronger these last few seconds fade away.

"What was that?" Kavar asked, his face betraying some confusion. "You okay?"

"I...nothing. Let us practice, Master," Valia replied, readying herself.

The pair trained for the next two hours.

Valia exited the training chamber wearily-she had to give it to Kavar, the man knew how to train people when it came down to it. Every muscle was sore from the lightsaber drills he had put her through. It was a good kind of sore, though, shaking her from her steadily growing complacency in the Enclave. She hadn't been this sore since training on her homeworld.

The hall still had a few students milling about in the sub-level. Valia pulled her heavy outer robe close to her. Why was she so cold all of a sudden?

Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but even so, Valia thought somebody should raise the temperature.

The students gave her a wide berth as she passed by them. None of them were too eager to chat with someone who could put down one of their own so quickly, so brutally.

Come to think of it, she HAD been a little tough with Cariaga. Back home she was always taught to take duels seriously: Serious injury was often quite common, but not out of maliciousness. It was only to make the student fight better. Valia snorted as she remembered home, remembered the brutal training methods of the masters of her clan. She had strived so hard, harder than the rest, to prove herself a warrior, especially to her father. All for nothing.

She took a glance around at these other students. So at ease, so well fed. Not like back at home, where the students heads were shaved bald, the customary dots painted onto their forehead to denote their level of training. The more dots one had, the higher the level. The highest amount of dots one could have was nine.

Valia had had nine dots by the time she was twelve. She remembered the long hours of students huddled together in the blistering cold of the mountains, exposed to the elements, allowed only a simple bowl of vegetables which they were required to wash in their daily trek to the ice-cold river near the training grounds to purify their spirits of pent up anger or frustration, remembered the long hours of sticking her hands in red hot coals to cleanse her mind of distraction and to strengthen her hands, or slapping a metal plate for the same effect. By the time she was twelve, her Masters had decided she was ready to learn their most ancient techniques. The art of Force fire and Force freeze had been imparted to her easily. Her old masters, if any of them were still alive (which she hoped was the case) would laugh at what the Jedi called "training".

Valia shook herself out of her reverie. She was not home, and her new masters were not her old ones. She should not be so judgmental.

Above all, she had no place else to go.

Valia decided she would make amends and pay a visit to Cariaga and apologize as an adult would. Because if she could not start doing things like that now, there was no way she would do them later in life, which was something Valia desperately did not wish to happen. Perhaps later she should give Cariaga new weapons. She'd have to make them though, and it would take days.

Back home that always smoothed over disputes between neighbors.

Her plan set, Valia increased her stride and headed for the infirmary on the other side of the Enclave.

She had just reached the exit to the sub-level when the feeling of cold increased.

Valia sighed. Perhaps it was just her adrenaline.

She hit the button to open the door and stepped out into a blizzard. She looked behind her, the Enclave was gone. It was just another blinding field of white. She looked down at her hands. Everything had lost color.

Her whole world was now black and white. The wind whipped her face, making it go numb in seconds.

Valia blinked at the strange new predicament, the illogic of it starting to anger her and began shivering. What the hell was going on? Was she hallucinating?

The snow stung at her cheeks. It was as though she had stepped beyond a threshold into another time and place altogether.

Valia looked around. Empty. Almost like a nightmare she had where she dreamt she had found nothing but wailing, sobbing versions of herself dressed in white and wandering a snowfield with shattered swords strewn about.

Who knows? Perhaps she was having the same nightmare, though she had certainly never heard of having a nightmare while awake. Then again, stranger things had happened to her.

"Little girl all lost in the snow. Even should you escape this blizzard, you have no place to go," said a deep, bass tone.

Valia wheeled around.

He was clad in heavy looking frosted silver armor with a long black kilt completely covering his legs from all sides. A silvery chainmail hood covered his head, and his face was covered by a bone white, skull like mask with deep red lines above the eyes like drips of blood.

"Who are you? I demand to know why you have brought me here," Valia growled, reaching for her lightsaber, the ruthless cold reaching the marrow in her bones.

The figure knelt down on bended knee, to her utter surprise.

"Forgive me, Milady. I am Lord Ptolemus. I have been searching for you for a long time."

Valia gripped her weapon. "Why? I am of no interest to you. You have the wrong person. Go back to whatever master you serve and tell him you were mistaken.

"I am in the service of no master. I am the master, Milady. You are perfect."

Valia snorted at this, disgusted by the notion. She was not perfect, she was a killer. "Perfect? You have some strange ideas of what is perfect."

"Your blood is perfect, Milady. Your creation, your existence, is perfect. I do believe you are the only one of your kind who ever has been. Such a one as you does not belong among Jedi. You belong with those who can understand you, help you understand yourself, Milady."

"I take it you wish to capture me? You will not find it easy, whatever you are."

"Capture you? Forgive me, Milady, but I do think you are mistaken. I do not seek to capture you. I seek to rescue you from these backward Jedi who will not understand. It is through you that our Order shall rise to prominence again."

"Order? What order?"

"The Order of the Sith Philosophers, Milady. I am Lord Darth Ptolemus."

Valia laughed, actually laughed, at this, lowering her weapon.

"Leave me be, Sith. A fool like you is not worth the effort to kill."

"I am not your enemy, Milady."

"You're no friend, either."

"I would prefer your cooperation, Milady, but I have seen your stubborn nature. Do you know why you are in this blizzard?"

Valia got serious again.

"No, but I suppose you will tell me. I'll kill you soon enough anyway. Bury your head and your body in two separate places so you cannot enter the afterlife intact."

Darth Ptolemus shoke his head, as though saddened that she prodded him with such foolishness.

"You injure me with your harshness, Milady. I have trapped you in your own mind. The minute you stepped out of the sublevel, I took control of your motor functions. You are marching to a departure shuttle as we speak."

Valia's eye blazed with the promise of death.

"Die," she snarled, her lightsaber flashing on. She gave a conservative flourish.

Darth Ptolemus pulled out two lightsabers. A regular one and a short one, their hilts both disturbingly similar to her own. A sickly, diseased blue shot out of both of them, and instead of the hum from a normal lightsaber, there was a crackling that Valia felt down to her spine.

"You will only mentally exhaust yourself, Milady."

Darth Ptolemus leapt for her, Valia twisted out of the way and bashed her lightsaber blade against his own, and then backing away from the lightning quick thrust from his short blade.

"You shame me into harming you, Milady," he said in an almost bored manner.

"Get out of my mind!"

"Milady, it's for your own good! The Jedi shall label you a threat should they ever discover the truth about you. I am amazed Vandar has not acted on what he already knows!"

Valia took a nasty swipe for his neck, but Ptolemus backed out of the way, bringing down both his sabers at the same time and knocking Valia to the ground. Valia sprung back up swiping viciously, expending energy, the cold taking root each time a little bit further.

"Milady, why do you continue to shame me? You are mentally exhausted from your practice with the Kavar fellow. The cold must be affecting your judgment."

"I am not so WEAK as to be brought down by the cold!" Valia snarled, landing a series of brutal vertical attacks with her blade that caused Ptolemus to make an X with his weapons. Valia persisted, pouring more energy into the attack, eager to break his guard and gut him like a fish.

The cold began to numb Valia's skin. It was colder than the river she had once ritually purified herself in. It amplified her rage, her hatred.

Focus! This is YOUR mind! NOT his! Valia thought angrily. She steadied her breathing and went into her Soresu stance.

"Aye, your strength is impressive, Milady. Your swordsmanship much finer than the Jedi who run this school. May I inquire of Milady as to where she was trained?"

"Shut up and fight."

"Aye, once more, you injure me, Milady." Darth Ptolemus resumed his combat stance, a modified Jar-Kai style, by the looks of it, and attacked.

Valia countered by shutting off her lightsaber and delivering a roundhouse kick to his face. His short saber was knocked somewhere into the blizzard. Her hands assumed a pincer shape as Ptolemus got to his feet.

"You do not belong with them, Milady. You are a Firaxa amongst Manaan carp. You will never be fully accepted by them," Ptolemus stated, picking up his regular saber and assuming a Makashi stance.

"And you'll accept me? You don't even know me, Ptolemus."

"Aye, but I am willing to give you the acceptance they will not. They are nothing but universal peace mongers growing increasingly distressed by the fact that their order must employ violence. I promise you, one day they will decide they have had enough of war and lay down their lightsabers, whether the Sith are destroyed or not. The Order has use for one such as yourself. We accept those who will accept us, train those who come to us without any of the unnecessary restraints the Jedi impose, who would teach you to walk only to break your knees. Jedi would teach you to make a fist only to tie your hands. You need not accept only the Dark Side, as the ignorant call it. You can enlighten yourself in any area of the Force you wish, so long as you exercise prudence and not over extend your reach. Through this you shall attain power. Through this you will bring peace to the galaxy."

The pair stared at each other, guarding wearily. Ptolemus had managed to get her to stop fighting, which was no small achievement given how many had tried this tactic with her before only to find themselves impaled

"Why do you need me?" Valia asked in spite of herself. "There are others who are stronger than I am. There is the Nosferan, Revan, for example."

Ptolemus paused.

"Is that what her species is called? Curious. Alas, while Lady Revan is indeed stronger, you, Milady, are a revolution. You are proof that we need not accept every whim of the Force."

"What do you mean?"

"Alas, Milady, I can say no more. You must come to us if you wish to learn more."

"How many more are there?"

"We are legion, Milady."

As though summoned by his admission, other figures emerged from the blizzard. Some dressed in black or dark blue robes or variations of the silvery armor Ptolemus wore, but all wore those same skull like masks.

"Come to us, Milady. Should you refuse us, I'm afraid we would have to resort to more drastic measures next time around."

"You will not. There is no need."

Darth Ptolemus' stance betrayed that of someone hopeful. "I take it you submit to our adoption then?"

"No. There is no need for you to take more drastic measures next time because there will NOT be a next time," Valia replied. "Now fight."

Darth Ptolemus sighed.

"So be it."

Valia charged made a series of vicious stabs and swipes. There was no holding back now, no relying on Jedi art forms. This was about winning.

To his credit, Darth Ptolemus held his own for about a good twenty seconds, parrying madly with his blade, but the exotic and lethal nature of Valia's training began to were him down. She moved and struck as a beast, each move economic, each strike meant to kill as quickly or as painfully as possible. Her moves didn't look like anything the Jedi taught. The Jedi would turn away from such a style. Her moves would have reminded any onlooker of a Rancor in the fits of a rage as she swung with such ferocity that at some point one would began to question whether or not she was human at all. Ptolemus now realized how in danger his life was and began to fight for it, swiping as quickly as he could without losing track of where his blade was going. Valia dodged it, at one point using her pincer move to rip a chunk of his armor off and some flesh along with it. Ptolemus yelled in pain but fought on desperately, trying each style he knew and quickly realizing that she was overwhelming him no matter which one it was. His blade never seemed to hit Valia. Wherever he was sure his blade had a hit, he would quickly find her gone from the place he swiped instead frantically defending a part of him he had left exposed to attack.

And then finally, he could do no more. Valia dodged his lightsaber one last time and severed both his hands by twisting to the side.

Valia ripped his saber from his severed hands and held both her blade and his own in a scissor motion against his neck.

"Told you I was gonna be burying your head separate," she snarled.

But before she could deliver the killing blow, she found herself back in reality. Master Vandar, Master Zhar, and Master Quatra were standing over her. Master Vrook soon entered

"We felt a dark presence in the school," Master Vandar explained. "You were nearly on a departure shuttle."

"Where am I?" Valia asked.

"You are in the infirmary. You have been for a day," Master Vrook replied. "I have been conducting an investigation since you were out cold but now that you are awake, perhaps you could answer a few things."

"I could," Valia said. "But I want to know something first. Who is Darth Ptolemus?"

Vandar and Vrook exchanged looks. They both knew the answer, but neither were willing to give it.

"It cannot be him," Vrook said quietly, his tone one of disbelief. "He's dead. He's been dead for years."

"Perhaps Darth Socratus-" Zhar began, his face one of grave concern.

"We will discuss this later," Master Vandar said sternly, knowing it was not a discussion for Valia's ears.

Valia watched as the pair left.

"You should rest now," Zhar said. "Your friends will be up here to see you soon."

Valia nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted after the very, very bizarre ordeal. She laid her head down on the pillow of the cot, playing the fight in her head over and over.

Who was Darth Ptolemus? And who were these Sith Philosophers, and what was she to them?

Valia closed her eyes, trying to take her mind off the evening by trying to remember the time Katsu had taken her out to the woods of her home world, Tython, for meditation. Valia remembered falling asleep in Katsu's lap.

With that, Valia began to drift off...

Present day.

Valia hit the water.