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But Ben frowned at the discovery. Would a paranoid mind be content with one easily disabled trigger for his ultimate act?

Ben restored the armrest to its closed position and sat on the platform next to the throne. He dared not sit on the throne itself; the Hidden One, a Force-user, was even more likely to detect that he had been there if he rested in the seat of power.

Ben relaxed, letting the Force flow through him. He thought of nothing but the trigger beside him, seeking anything related to it—images, flashes of insight about the future—

Up.

Ben looked upward. He saw only shadows in the irregular stone ceiling four meters up, but something there had all but called him. He stood, stepped onto the throne armrest he had so recently closed, and sprang upward, giving himself a little boost in the Force.

In the ceiling directly over the throne, his fingers gripped either side of a hole, about the size of a human head, cut into the stone. He hung there a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the reduced light. Then he saw it: a polished durasteel cylinder protruding twenty centimeters from the rock above.

Ben concentrated on it, trying to obtain through the Force some sense of how it worked. He could feel its length, nearly another meter inset in the stone, and machinery above it—simple mechanical parts made of durable metals.

It was simple, all right. Drive the cylinder home, like a plunger, and contact with something above it would relay the signal to detonate the charges in the entry tunnel. Without being able to look at the device, Ben doubted he would be able to disable it. Thoughtful, he dropped back to the platform.

In the hall where he regularly trained in combat against Chara, he found another such apparatus in the ceiling. And in the dormitory where he, Luke, and four male Kel Dors slept, another. The next day, Ben determined that every chamber of any significant size had one of these triggering devices in it. The Hidden One was clearly determined to be able to seal these caverns if he felt the need.

Later that day, Luke joined the audience for combat training. Not many Kel Dors were in attendance. Chara was on hand; Ithia, the female who had been beside Ben's canister upon his arrival in the caverns, led the proceedings. A Kel Dor male, younger than the others, merely sat and watched.

Ben went a few minutes against Chara, staff against staff. Chara was still far more experienced with the weapon, but Ben was able to defend himself longer and get in more good blows than when he'd first faced Charsae Saal.

Next, Ithia took the combat ring against Chara. They were obviously opponents of many years' acquaintance, for Ithia immediately matched her combat style to Chara's. Ithia was more fluid and evasive, Chara more aggressive and direct; the contrast was a pretty one, and Ben enjoyed watching the proceedings.

Luke spoke to the young Kel Dor observing the sparring. “I'm Luke Skywalker.”

The youth glanced at him, uncomfortable. “I am Wyss.”

“You're younger than most of the Kel Dor here.”

Wyss nodded, his attention back on Ithia and Chara. He unconsciously leaned away from Luke as if hoping the man would just leave him alone.

“Will you be training?”

Wyss shook his head. “I am not a sage. I am a servant.”

“But you could still learn. You're obviously interested.”

“‘As in life, so in death.’”

That statement, so obviously a quote, so evidently a tolerated rather than a welcome philosophy if Wyss's tone was any indication, drew Ben's attention. He turned to watch his father and the Kel Dor.

Luke frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means that in death, you should be content with preserving the skills you had in life, but should not worry about acquiring new ones.”

“That's the custom here?”

Wyss nodded again.

Luke turned away from the boy, obviously deliberating what he had just heard. Ben returned his attention to the practice.

Ultimately, Chara won each of his three matches against Ithia. When they were done, Ithia laughed. “I am out of practice, Charsae—Chara.”

Chara gave