After another long, restless night and another quick breakfast, which was broken only by a few muttered comments, Quinlan left the Marauder and trailed after his teammates. The pale sun was visible today, oddly enough. Despite the scattering of dingy clouds along the horizon to the north, the landscape looked almost warm – compared to the last few days, at any rate.

The last few days . . . Was this really only their fifth day on Malachor? Quinlan frowned and glanced at his chronometer as he followed Wrecker. It was oh-seven-hundred, half an hour earlier than they'd agreed to start. Already, though, Vythia stood before the main door, hands clasped behind her back and head tilted back as she observed the building.

Hunter moved soundlessly up behind her and said, "Been waiting long?"

"Not long," she replied, then turned on her heel to face him. "But I have been thinking that we are going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

Resting a hand on her waist, she gestured at the door. "If we go in this way again, we will have to go all the way to the center and up thirty-odd flights of stairs to resume our search. That would take at least an hour. It would be better to go in through the top of the academy, would it not?"

"I . . . don't see why not." Hunter shot Quinlan a questioning look. "You think there's an entrance up there?"

"I know there is one," she replied. "I observed it on scanners when we first landed here."

"Vythia is correct," Tech interjected, scrolling through images on his screen until he reached a diagram. "Ah. Here."

Hunter leaned over his shoulder to study it. "It looks like a shaft going straight into the center. The staircases inside – we could get to the top by going all the way up them, right?"

"Yes," said Vythia.

"Okay." Hunter looked at Quinlan again, as though waiting for him to speak.

The Jedi gazed up the side of the pyramid. The looming walls filled him with a sense of foreboding, but that was only because of the way the academy looked. . . he hoped. After all, the sheer size was enough to make anyone with common sense hesitate. "We should take only one ship, just in case," he said. "Leave one down here."

"Good idea," said Hunter. "Tech?"

"I will have to ready the Marauder," Tech said. "I only just finished locking it down."

"We can take my ship," offered Vythia. "I haven't locked the systems yet."

Tech looked questioningly up at Hunter, fingers hovering over the keypad.

"Okay." Hunter glanced at his teammates and jerked his head towards the Phoenix.

They mounted the boarding ramp behind the Nautolan woman, who moved quickly to the pilot's seat. Tech and Hunter followed her into the cockpit, while Quinlan waited in the cargo hold with Wrecker and Crosshair.

As the Phoenix lifted off, Quinlan observed his surroundings. Nothing seemed to have been moved since his and Tech's visit a couple of nights previous – the silver chest was still in the same spot, and so were the boxes. He wondered if Darth Zenaya's scroll had been stored in the box with the rest of the scrolls, or whether Vythia had locked it in the silver chest with the artifacts.

The shuttle floor tilted beneath him, and he leaned to one side. "She going around the academy?" he asked, disinterestedly – and pointlessly, since the answer was obvious.

"Yep!" agreed Wrecker. "Better than flying straight up a mile. Tech did that once."

"I'll bet he did."

Crosshair, who stood beside the starboard viewport, gestured outside with his toothpick. "Wonder if those pillars had any real purpose."

Quinlan joined him and looked out. The polished black of the curved pillars gleamed in the light of the slowly-rising sun as the Phoenix flew in a wide, ascending loop around the academy. "You mean any practical purpose?"

"What's the difference?"

"Uh . . ." Quinlan smirked. "Want me to ask Tech so he can give you a really long answer?"

"No."

"I heard that." Tech's voice floated back to them. "But Quinlan was the one who made the clarification. Therefore, he can explain."

There was a short pause, during which Vythia could be heard conversing with Hunter.

"Yeah, okay," said Quinlan. "I guess I just meant that the Sith tended to only make things that served a definite purpose to their way of life. The pillars could be symbolic . . . Of course, if they are, I've got no idea what they stand for, unless it's the Dark Side itself – which would make sense."

"What symbolizes the Light Side, then?" Crosshair asked.

"Well . . . there are a lot of different symbols for the Light Side, really, from a lot of different cultures. But the ones I've seen always involve parallel designs or patterns – unlike this."

The ship tilted again, rotated ninety degrees as it descended to the roof, then landed with a gentle thud.

Wrecker stepped aside to let Hunter and Tech rejoin them in the cargo hold as Crosshair lowered the boarding ramp.

While Vythia shut down the engines, the rest of the team gathered on the flat, windswept roof. The Phoenix was about halfway between the northern edge and the center, which Quinlan assumed was the safest place to be, given the ridiculous height of the academy.

Then he moved towards the edge, shielded his eyes from the sun's rays, and gazed out over the landscape. The land directly around the academy was almost featureless, but the rest of the ground seemed to have been half-destroyed. From here, the expanse of the dioxis fields was far more visible than it had been when they first arrived. Even in the daylight, the poisonous gas could be seen in patches of dim, semi-transparent green that were scattered among the splits and vents in the rocky ground.

"We're . . . really high up," Wrecker muttered from behind him.

"Twelve hundred meters." Crosshair, who had come up beside Quinlan, sounded almost pleased. He leaned forward slightly, then turned in a full circle as though taking in his surroundings.

"Hm," Hunter said, looking up. "Looks almost like a claw or something."

Raising an eyebrow, Quinlan followed his gaze to the five black pillars, which curved gradually into sharp points some fifty meters overhead. They did look like a claw from this angle. " . . . Nice," he said. "Really welcoming aesthetic."

After observing his surroundings for a few more seconds, Quinlan followed the others as they walked towards the entrance. The sand and ash crunched lightly against the stone beneath their boots, but apart from that, Malachor seemed utterly, unnaturally still. Maybe it was the height they were at, or the fact that he was so used to the shifting sand and ash that had been almost constantly present since their arrival on the planet.

A burst of wind gusted across the sandy surface of the roof, and Quinlan came to a halt, the strong breeze tugging at his tunic as he glanced back. "I think there's another storm coming," he commented.

"Yeah." Crosshair, who had removed his helmet, replaced it when the ash started to swirl up around his boots. "Big surprise there."

"Not," Wrecker added cheerfully. "Well, long as the ships don't blow away, we're good."

The upper entrance to Trayus Academy was cut directly into the roof, and there was no doorway. Four stairways, one on each side of the square shaft, ran down the walls and descended into the academy. They seemed identical to the stairways inside, except that there were no railings – that, and the steps themselves, set directly into the wall of what had been the uppermost central room, had been worn away by the blasting of sand and ash over the years until they were less than half their original length.

Vythia dropped to one knee at the edge of the shaft and pressed her hands against the highest step. "It appears intact," she said thoughtfully.

Hunter joined her and leaned down, brushing his hand along the crumbling edge of the uppermost stair. "What's left of it appears intact, but I don't trust it. Tech, is there anything down there?"

"Yes, if my scans are accurate – a single stormbeast." He checked Crosshair's position, then pointed down. "Mark two-fifty five, twelve meters."

Crosshair turned slightly to his left, aimed downward, and fired. The angry, croaking shout that followed was cut off halfway through by a dull thud.

"Sensors clear," Tech reported.

"Okay." Hunter pulled out his ascender cable and fired it down into the wall adjacent to him. "I'll head down first."

"I will go with you," Vythia said. She fired her cable into the wall a meter from his and jumped, swinging to a controlled halt a few meters down.

Hunter swung down to join her and activated his flashlight. After a brief look around, the two of them descended, kicking gently away from the wall every couple of meters until they landed on the floor below.

As they stepped away from the cables, Quinlan watched carefully, ready to follow at the first hint of alarm from either – but they only glanced around once before Hunter called for the rest of the team to join them.

Wrecker and Crosshair went down next, moving hand over hand; then Quinlan and Tech followed.

"Leave the cables," Hunter was saying as Quinlan hopped off to land in five centimeters of sand. "We'll probably end up using them again."

"Anyone see any lanterns?" Wrecker asked, staring up at the walls.

"Not yet." Vythia wandered further into the room and paused to scuff one boot through a pile of sand. "We will have to move carefully. This accumulation is thick enough to hide any traps – or any damage there may be to the floor."

"Yes." Tech eyed one section of the floor, directly beneath the northern stairway, and ran a scan. "And, of course, it can hide the stairways leading down."

"What?" Hunter appeared behind him.

"This stairwell appears to have been filled completely by sand."

"Hmm." Kneeling, Hunter pushed one hand through the sand. "You're right. Let's hope that one of the other stairways is at least partially free."

Wrecker, who had finally located the lanterns, activated one while Crosshair lit the other. The green light didn't reach very far into the vast room. Then again, in every other central chamber they'd seen so far, there had been a pillar lit by white flame; here, there was no pillar.

Quinlan walked along the adjacent wall to locate another lantern and slid the crystal into its base. Turning away as the green fire flickered to life, he observed what was visible of the room – still not much – and then closed his eyes, reaching out to locate any nearby artifacts or presences.

Opening his eyes, he glanced over at the Nautolan woman. He could feel the crystal of the headpiece she wore in order to read the Sith language. It was a little – louder? – than usual. Could an artifact be louder? He was distracted from that thought be recognizing the presence of something else, something familiar –

The mask. He glanced at the light pack she carried on her back. She's got Lothal's mask with her again. Why?

He almost asked her outright. There was no real reason not to ask her; she probably had known he'd be aware of it. Closing his eyes, Quinlan tried to sense her intent, but between his shields and her calm, collected personality it was all but pointless. He almost asked her despite that, but decided not to bother – Vythia had avoided every attempt at questioning so far anyway.

Ignoring the jewel and the mask, he reached out once more, as much as he could while still keeping his shields up. This would never be enough to locate a person, or even a Light Side artifact, but since the Dark Side was actively attacking his shields, a further attack could help him pinpoint the location of –

Something odd tugged at his mind from a few levels below, and Quinlan blinked, stepping forward. It wasn't an object . . . and, at least as far as he could perceive, it wasn't a presence, either. Whatever it was felt inverted in his mind, as though it were a negative – thing – no, it was a lack of any kind of presence. A few seconds later, the impression coalesced into nothing at all.

"Nothing?" he muttered, opening his eyes.

"What did you say?" Vythia asked absently, pausing beside him.

Quinlan folded his arms against a chill. "Nothing," he repeated. "There aren't any artifacts on this level, Vythia – besides the ones you've got with you, that is."

She flashed a quick smile. "I suspect you are right. If the roof was used as a landing pad, as Tech has theorized, then this floor would chiefly be for meeting guests, or perhaps for storage of shipments. Let us move farther down."

Hunter, who had been occupying himself by checking each of the stairways, glanced up at his older batch mate. "Wrecker? This one's our best bet. You're up."

"Got it." Wrecker cracked his knuckles and headed over.

As he reached the stairs, Hunter put out a hand to stop him. "And don't fall."

"Ha – not a chance!" With a laugh, Wrecker plowed through the sand that filled the top steps of the northern stairway. He had to pause on the third step down to kick at the hardened grit. "It's all packed in, Hunter. This'll take me a couple minutes."

"Well, we're not in a hurry," Quinlan told him, casting a sidelong glance at the Nautolan woman. At least, I'm not.

Quinlan was glad to discover that only the stairways from the first level were actually blocked. Over the years, a huge amount of sand and ash had made its way down the top few levels, but after they reached the second floor down, it proved to be more of an annoyance than a real hindrance. They still had to feel their way carefully down the stairways, because the inches of grit and sand that cascaded down them hid the edges of the steps rather effectively, but it was only inconvenient, not difficult.

The upper rooms of the academy were very different from the lower rooms. The few classrooms and training halls they came across were large, but mostly the team spent their time passing shrine after nameless shrine. Who these had been built for, even Vythia had no idea. The statues had been obliterated, along with anything they might have held.

"Why were they all destroyed?" Hunter asked, when they came across yet another heap of pulverized marble.

Vythia shrugged, a displeased frown brushing her face. "Perhaps the Jedi invaded from the roof and the ground floor. I had thought for certain that we would find more in these levels, but then I had not anticipated such wanton destruction. The Jedi clearly had no intention of taking over or using the academy."

Tech pushed his visor up. "If it was the Jedi who invaded the upper levels, why didn't they destroy the entire building?"

"Perhaps they did not have the time."

Quinlan, still trying to pinpoint that feeling of nothingness from earlier, only half-listened to the conversation as it continued. He was almost sure that the strange, inverted mental sense was coming from a section on the fifth or sixth level down, in the eastern quarter of the building, but that was as close as he could get.

"Maybe it was the stormbeasts," Crosshair's sarcastic voice said – he'd apparently tired of the rapid-fire conversation between Vythia and Tech.

The Nautolan woman blinked and smirked at him. "I doubt that. . . I still think I am right, though Tech also has a point. It could have been another Sith."

Quinlan blinked and looked up. "Wait, what?"

Hunter cut in, summarizing before Tech could explain. "They think a Sith lord came through here and destroyed the statues of his rivals."

". . . That would make sense, given what I know." Quinlan brushed past Tech to glance at the newest discovery, which was yet another pile of crumbled marble. "Especially – hm. We haven't seen any normal statues so far. I mean, of people turned into stone." Though how I'm thinking that's 'normal', I have no idea.

"You are right!" said Tech, and turned to look at Quinlan – walking directly into Hunter as a result. He didn't seem to notice the sergeant's tolerantly amused eyeroll. "Perhaps they were also obliterated."

"Meaning what?" Crosshair asked, tilting his head. "Why would anyone destroy people who'd already been turned to stone? What's the point?"

"I . . . am not certain." He adjusted his visor again, looking almost apologetic as he thought. "It could be, of course, that there was no one present in these upper levels when the superweapon was activated. Or at least that there was no one alive in these upper levels, which is more likely."

"It could be a lot of different things," said Hunter, cutting off the conversation. "But you can theorize about it later, Tech. Let's keep moving."

Tech clipped the datapad onto his belt and hurried down the hall after Wrecker.

A few minutes and several destroyed shrines later, Vythia tapped the fingers of one hand against her lightwhip's hilt. "We have yet to find anything of value. . . even though these upper levels were most likely occupied by the most powerful masters. Quinlan, can you guide us at all?"

The Jedi hesitated for several seconds, not really sure he wanted to mention the sensation of nothingness. Still, it was that or wander around blindly for hours longer, so eventually he said, "There's . . . something . . . a couple levels down from us."

"Something?" Hunter asked.

"Yeah. It doesn't feel like an artifact, but I've got no idea what it is."

Or what it isn't.

Early that afternoon, Crosshair discovered a small, locked vault off one of the destroyed shrines. Once Tech had assured the sergeant that there did not seem to be any traps – and Quinlan had quietly agreed – Hunter and Wrecker set to work placing detonator tape along one edge of the door.

When the door was out of the way, Vythia and Hunter stepped inside while Wrecker held a light for them. Crosshair wandered restlessly around the shrine while Tech opened his wrist consol and set to work on something.

Not particularly interested, Quinlan only sent occasional glances in Vythia's direction as she sorted through old, dust-covered jewelry and weapons. There were no artifacts in this vault with even the slightest Force-presence, most likely because nothing of real value had been stored there in the first place, so he didn't know what she hoped to find . . . Maybe she just wanted to gather stuff she could sell later. There certainly was enough jewelry and weapons – though Quinlan had no idea why anyone would want to wear a necklace or bracelet, or use a weapon, that had belonged to a Sith.

"Anything interesting?" Wrecker asked.

"Not as far as I am concerned." Vythia held up a golden necklace and hummed. "I am sure the Prince will be only too glad to sell some of it, though. Hunter, we will take the jewels and this set of knives, but the weaponry will only slow us down."

With nothing else to occupy him, Quinlan wandered out of the room to activate the next set of hallway lanterns. He knew that whatever was causing the sense of nothingness – almost an absence, really – was somewhere on this level. It wasn't quite an absence of the Force, or at least he thought it wasn't. If it were, he'd be almost glad to go look for it, just so he could be somewhere without the constant pressure of distant emotions that weren't his own. He didn't feel angry, or hateful, but the Dark Side did. The conflicting sensations were . . . tiring. Every time there was no immediate distraction, every time the team stood still or the others didn't talk, those artificial emotions rose up louder and louder. So far, he'd been able to ignore them by focusing on something else, but the darkness seemed to be weighing on him now. If he thought about it too long, he could almost feel it physically.

Stop, he ordered himself. Stop thinking – no, start thinking, stop focusing on how this blasted place is making you feel.

Straightening up, he reentered the shrine room with more determination than he felt. It probably showed, too, judging by the odd look Wrecker gave him.

"Oh! Quinlan." Tech glanced up and gestured with his datapad. "It appears that you were correct."

"About what?"

"Based on the data I am receiving from the Marauder's sensors, there is another storm system building, almost directly above us."

"Anything that'll cause trouble?" Hunter inquired, joining him.

"That depends." Tech typed for a moment. "My current data indicates that it will be less than ten minutes before the wind velocity will be too great to allow us to maneuver the Phoenix at all."

Great. Quinlan kicked at a scattering of sand that had made its way to the sixth level down, or the hundred and thirtieth level up, or whatever it was. Folding his arms, he glared down at the floor. Even at a dead run they wouldn't make it back to the Phoenix in time, not from here.

"The storm should not affect our search, though?" Vythia asked, settling the straps of her pack more evenly on her shoulders.

"Not in the least," said Tech, and closed the screen in his vambrace. "Though it may keep us from returning to the Marauder for the night."

"Oh boy . . ." Wrecker said, and sent Hunter an uncertain look. "I don't like the sound of that!"

"Yeah, same here." Hunter tilted his head towards the next hallway. "But it doesn't look like we've got an option, if the storm's closing that fast."

"Not enough time," agreed Crosshair, and ambled into the hallway, looking utterly unconcerned.

As the commandos set off down the hall again, Quinlan clenched one hand and said nothing. They could travel down through every single level of the academy, make their way to the main entrance, and get to the Marauder from there . . . He was not spending the night here – and neither were any of the others, not if he had a choice.

Something told him he didn't actually have a choice.

"Hey," said Wrecker cheerfully, jostling him with an elbow. "What's the problem?"

Jerking his attention back to his surroundings, the Jedi realized that he had stopped walking; the others were a full twenty meters away.

"Uh – Quinlan?" Wrecker asked, the easy smile gradually disappearing from his face as Quinlan just stood there. "What's'a matter?"

I'm scared of the dark, he mocked himself, then said, "Nothing new, Wrecker. C'mon, let's find some artifacts so we can get off-planet first thing tomorrow."

"Oh – Hunter . . . look." Vythia's voice floated back from the corner she'd turned seconds before.

Hunter, who had been looking up at the ceiling as the lightning from the storm far overhead drew his attention, ran to catch up with her. "What is it?"

She didn't answer, and he didn't ask again. The black door she stood in front of, which was illuminated by a dark red lantern on either side, was decorated by a painted carving of a gleaming, off-white face or mask or maybe a skull. It looked like the upper half of a skull, anyway – the upper jaw was in place but not the lower. Two deep red streaks ran up from the top of the eye holes toward the forehead area. The black door provided a backdrop for most of the mask; the eye holes, though, had been carved directly out of the door itself. Behind them, nothing was visible behind them but an even deeper blackness.

Then the others joined them, and Hunter glanced over one shoulder, narrowing his eyes when he saw that Quinlan was staring at the image in too-obvious recognition.

"What is that?" Wrecker demanded.

"I am not certain, but . . ." Tech ran a hand over the runes carved directly above the mask, which was centered on the door. Tapping his index finger against the last rune in the line, he said, "This is 'death'."

"Death?" Vythia stepped up behind him. "Ah, you recognize the rune from my dagger."

"Yes. But I cannot read the rest."

Leaning forward, Vythia brushed her fingers across the runes, freeing them further of dust. "It is this particular Sith Lord's saying – a saying so infamous that any student of the Sith and their culture or history would recognize it. 'The purpose of life is death'."

There was a brief silence. Crosshair and Wrecker exchanged looks. Hunter glanced sideways at the Jedi, who had folded his arms defensively. His gaze was focused not on the mask, but through one of the eyes into the next room.

"That . . ." Wrecker shifted uneasily. "That's really weird. Who was he?"

"Darth Nihilus," she replied, reaching slowly for the door's handle. "He was also known as the Lord of Hunger."

"Lord of Hunger," repeated Quinlan in a low voice, and hunched his shoulders. "Vythia, do you think you should be going in there?"

"We shall find out." The door swung open, and Vythia hesitated on the threshold as red lanterns glowed to life all around the room. "There seems to be nothing here . . ."

When she stepped inside, Wrecker and Tech hesitated near the door before following cautiously.

"Nothing," said Quinlan, then took a step back. "She's – there's nothing there."

He ended his sentence in a slightly louder voice. Hunter raised a cautionary hand, but Quinlan didn't seem to notice. He just stared into the red-lit room, eyes dark with – something.

Crosshair slipped up behind him and hissed, "Keep it down, Vos. What are you talking about?"

"The absence of the Force," Quinlan muttered, and gestured at the room. "It isn't there, just like Darth Nihilus wasn't there."

Hunter folded his arms. "You're gonna have to explain."

"He was a wound in the Force. If he went near other people, they sickened and died because he drained them of their lives. Nihilus was – he was on Malachor at the time of the Mass Shadow Generator's activation. When the fleet was crushed and all those millions of people died, in space and on the planet, he was the sole survivor."

"How'd he survive?" Hunter asked, surprised. "The gravity increase –"

"He survived by leeching the life force from the dying . . . from everyone on the planet, and then from everyone in the fleets, to sustain himself for those few minutes the generator was on. Then . . ."

"Quinlan?" called Vythia from inside the large room. "Come look at this."

The Jedi hesitated, biting his lip, then straightened abruptly and strode into the room.

Crosshair exchanged a look with Hunter, who turned to follow. When they reached Vythia, she was kneeling before a long, low oblong container made out of stone. Hunter paused, staring down at it. It was a coffin, but had no lid – and there was no one in it.

"Uh – Vythia?" Wrecker pushed his helmet back on his head. "Maybe you shouldn't touch that."

Hunter glanced up and saw that her hand was hovering over a lightsaber hilt that had been placed in the head of the coffin. The weapon was more ornately shaped than usual lightsabers, and it seemed to be made with the same shiny off-white material as the mask. As he looked at it, he understood Wrecker's hesitation. There was something weirdly forbidding about it, and the mere idea of picking it up made him wince.

Even Vythia paused, then sat back on her heels. Clasping her hands in her lap, she said, "Quinlan, you said you did not feel the presence of any artifacts . . . and yet here is one, if I am right, which is beyond the value of all the others."

"I feel – nothing," he said softly, though he was staring right at the lightsaber. "Vythia, your crystal. It's not . . . I can't sense it anymore. It's like it's not there."

A gleam of awe flickered through her black eyes, and she whispered. "His lack of presence – even after all this time?"

Someone brushed against Hunter's right arm, and he noticed that Tech was holding his datapad toward him.

"What is it?" Hunter asked, casting a quick look back at Vythia.

"Legends of Darth Nihilus have survived and are easily accessible," Tech said. "I do not know how valuable they are as a resource, but – well, it may prove relevant."

Hunter glanced down at the image on the screen. The tall Sith Lord wore a black robe over a full suit of black armor, and a mask identical to the one on the door covered his face from forehead to halfway down his cheeks. No . . . Hunter took the datapad and peered more closely at it. "This legend says he had no face."

Still kneeling, Vythia reached for the lightsaber, fingers hovering above it. "That, at least, is no legend. His actions in draining the survivors of their lives made him into something twisted. He could no longer survive unless he chose to live off of the lives of others – and he did choose that."

As Vythia closed her hand around the lightsaber, Quinlan jerked forward slightly, then stopped himself.

She stood, holding the lightsaber out at arms' length as she studied it. "Each time Nihilus drained another of life, his own hunger grew. He destroyed entire planets over the years, but that wasn't enough. Finally, he became a wound in the Force so great that his own physical form faded away. Only his armor kept him visible. Eventually, only his armor allowed him to move. He was capable only of existing, and killing."

Crosshair, who had taken off his helmet, cast a sharp look around the room, his eyes dark in the red light. "And you say that's not a legend."

"It is not." Vythia pressed the activator stud, and a crimson blade burst into life as though it had not been lying, unused, for thousands of years. The sound was deeper and had a sharper tone compared to the others Hunter had seen and heard.

"I think this room's proof of his existence," Quinlan muttered.

Vythia deactivated the lightsaber and hefted it. "Darth Nihilus was one of three who ruled the Sith in later years. He and Darth Sion, Lord of Pain, were the two apprentices of Darth Traya – it was she who reopened this academy."

"Thus the name Trayus," Tech said automatically, but he didn't sound interested.

"Correct. She and her two apprentices ruled as the Sith Triumvirate, until Nihilus and Sion betrayed her and stripped her of her power. Nihilus left the academy afterwards. He cared nothing for the Sith or their creed, only for his power, which was extreme. Still, there is a room here, kept in his honor through the years until the Scourge . . . Perhaps there is a room for Darth Traya as well."

Wrecker shifted.

"If there is," Hunter said in a low voice. "I don't think we should go looking for it."

"No?" She tilted her head, blinking once. "No, perhaps not. This room alone is strange."

"Strange?" Crosshair cut in, voice sharp with distaste. He eyed the coffin, frowning, and added, "It's a tomb for a Sith who isn't even here."

"No." Vythia stared around the room once, then finally turned towards the door. "Ironic, is it not? His hold on the Force was so strong that he could reach across a star system – and yet, when he died, it was that very strength that ripped him to shreds. Nothing was left of him except his lightsaber. I always assumed it had been returned to Korriban."

As she took a step away from the coffin, still holding the lightsaber, Quinlan stepped abruptly in front of her. For some reason, that one movement made Hunter freeze and rest his fingers resting lightly on his pistol. Tech outright jumped, and Crosshair and Wrecker closed ranks silently.

But Vythia only watched Quinlan, eyebrows lifted slightly in a question. "Quinlan?" she asked. "Is something . . . wrong?"

"We can't take that with us," the Jedi said hoarsely. "Not out of this room."

The Nautolan woman took a slow step towards him. "Why not?"

"It's – the –" Trailing off, he shook his head. "Vythia – somehow, this room blocks my psychometry. But outside of it, something like Nihilus' lightsaber would be . . ."

"Hm. You may be right." Stepping to one side, Vythia turned, as though about to replace the weapon in the coffin. "It is peculiar, Quinlan, is it not; your psychometry is so strong, and yet you seem unable to stop using it."

"I – what?"

"Most psychometrics can choose whether or not to use their ability. Psychometry is an extremely low level of Force ability, though I'm sure you as a Kiffar know that."

"Yeah – of course."

Hunter closed his fingers silently around his pistol, and Wrecker took a step towards Vythia. Crosshair had one hand behind his back, half-reaching for his knife.

"And yet here," Vythia went on. "You cannot seem to stop using it."

To Hunter's surprise, the Jedi relaxed slightly. "Like you said," he answered. "It's a low-level Force ability. Maybe I'm not as good a psychometric as I thought I was, or I'd be able to control it better."

Vythia nodded, stepping suddenly away from him. "That seems likely. So – you are not attempting to use your ability now?"

"No." Despite his easy tone, Quinlan's fingers were clenched over his upper arms.

"You're trying not to use it, correct?"

" . . . Yes." Quinlan took a wary step back.

Vythia was half-turned away from Hunter, but he could still see when her lips turned up in a smile. "Interesting," she commented. For an instant, she didn't move – then, she spun on her heel and pressed the hilt against the back of Quinlan's right hand.

Quinlan's eyes went wide and he jerked back slightly, then froze. Before Crosshair and Hunter had done more than take a step forward, Vythia was kneeling, replacing the lightsaber in the coffin.

Wrecker and Tech looked at Hunter, as though waiting for direction, but he didn't say anything. The Jedi was standing motionless. But nothing seemed to be wrong – and everything had happened so fast, he could have been just surprised.

Vythia got calmly to her feet, looking almost regretful. "Well, perhaps you are right," she said in a soft voice, unaware of or utterly ignoring the confused glance from Tech, Wrecker's worried expression, and the narrowed gaze that Crosshair was sending at the back of her head. "After all, Darth Nihilus was not a true Sith."

As she wandered from the room, everyone seemed to let out their breath all at once.

"What. Was that," Crosshair demanded in a low voice.

Hunter shook his head. Quinlan still hadn't moved, and he had no idea if something was wrong or if he was just surprised, or he was seeing another . . . memory, or vision, or whatever.

Surprisingly, it was Wrecker who broke the silence. "We better get going before she decides to come back and see why we're still here. I think Quinlan needs a minute."

Crosshair and Tech hesitated, but Hunter caught their eyes and gave a stern nod. "Get moving," he ordered firmly. "Tech, keep her busy. Ask her questions, keep her distracted."

"I – yes, I can do that." After a final, hesitant glance, Tech left at a quick walk with Crosshair on his heels.

Hunter followed them to the door, then turned back. "Quinlan?" he asked. "You can hear us, right?"

". . . Yes," whispered the Jedi.

Wrecker threw an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him with less than his usual exuberance. "You're all set, huh?"

". . . I – yes." But it wasn't until Wrecker tugged at him that Quinlan followed. His eyes and expression were almost empty.

Hunter left the crypt last, shutting the doors behind him, and stayed at the back of the group. Ahead of Wrecker and Quinlan were the others. Tech was in the middle, listening as Vythia talked – probably answering one of his questions. Crosshair wandered along on his other side. Either the Nautolan woman hadn't noticed that something was wrong, or she was pretending not to. Judging by how observant she was, she was pretending not to have noticed. Hunter wished he knew what was going through her head.

It wasn't until they neared the end of the hall that Wrecker spoke. "Hey – Quinlan, what happened? Did you see something?"

There was a pause before the Jedi answered. "No. Nothing."

"You didn't?" Wrecker sounded confused. "Well – I guess that's good . . ."

"No! Wrecker –" Quinlan pushed away from his arm, which Wrecker had left across his shoulders, and spun to face him. "I saw – I saw nothing, Wrecker."