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“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” said Vol. “As a fine example of a Sith Saber, you will simply have to assure her that this is done out of respect. I trust you will be able to do so.”

Slowly, Khai nodded. “I will do so.”

“Excellent. You have always done well by me and the Circle, Khai. I knew you would not fail me now. Give my best to Abeloth. I look forward very much to our meeting. I heard certain rumors, and am anxious to hear from you how Vestara is performing on our behalf.”

The hologram disappeared. Khai leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin and thinking. He heard the soft chime that indicated an incoming message and was instantly alert.

“Saber Khai,” said Annax, “Abeloth wishes to speak with you privately.” Her bright eyes were on him, her quick mind doubtless racing two steps ahead, wondering about the outcome of this particular conversation.

Khai nodded. He had expected this, too. “I will receive her in my quarters, then.”

A few moments later, he was in the austere captain’s quarters of the Black Wave. He took a moment and steadied himself for the interview. Settling down at a small desk, he said aloud, “Transmit.”

“Patching her through, sir,” Annax replied promptly. Idly, he wondered if the Keshiri was eavesdropping. He had expected a holographic appearance, but Ableoth chose to communicate through audio only.

“Saber Khai,” she said. Her voice sounded better than it had when they’d made their agreement to work together; stronger, more in command. Less … wounded. Khai slammed down that line of thinking at once.

“Abeloth,” he said. “I have heard from Lord Vol.”

“I know,” she said, confirming what he had suspected—that she had sensed the conversation already. “It did not go as well as you had expected.”

“Say rather it did not go as well as one could have hoped,” Khai corrected.

“I do hope that he is not denying me the chance to visit your world after all,” said Abeloth.

“Quite the contrary. He has insisted that Kesh, and primarily Tahv, be granted three days to prepare for your arrival, that the Sith may welcome you as the honored guest you are.”

“You suspect he is lying?”

It was a very dangerous game Gavar Khai was playing. Above all else, he wanted to ensure his own personal success—nay, simple survival, if it came to that. He had always been fiercely loyal to his people, but his experiences with Abeloth had also opened his eyes to the vast power she could wield. Ideally, he could bring the two together, but he had to always be aware that conflict could again erupt between Abeloth and the Lost Sith tribe.

And if that did happen, he needed to make sure he was on the side of the victor.

While lies were useful, sometimes the truth could be even more so. So he told the truth. “I do not think he is lying. It is a cultural tradition to have great celebrations for momentous occasions. There are always parades and parties and so on. And certainly, Lord Vol is very well aware that choosing to ally with you is an extremely important moment for the Sith.”

“But three days seems like a long time to ask so apparently honored a guest to wait.” There was irritation in her voice, and he could feel it, cold and affronted, in the Force.

“Such preparations do take time,” he said. “I do not know what he plans.”

And that much, at least, was as true as the sun rising, although Tola Annax probably could give him a list of possible ideas.

“Very well. We shall give Lord Vol his three days. I must admit, I think I will enjoy seeing so elaborate a celebration. It is good to be honored and respected.”

“Indeed. It will be a joyous occasion. I have been told that there will be a parade and afterward a masquerade.”

A moment, then a chuckle. “A masquerade. How fitting. Yes, I will definitely enjoy this.”

“I can safely say it will be unlike anything you have seen before.”

“Of course. I am sure so isolated a world must have developed unique traditions.” The way she said isolated made it sound like backward. Khai forced