"It's not but it could've been done. Or tried, at least, until it was definitely untenable."

"Why would it have been worth the effort?"

"I have no idea how to explain 'every life has intrinsic inherent value' from a cold start."

"That does seem like a rather fundamental point of disagreement."

"Are there any people you care about?" he asks—not accusatory, merely curious.

"How do you mean?"

"Any people whose well-being brings you happiness and whose misfortune brings you sadness, anyone you'd suffer to see die, anyone you enjoy spending time with..."

"No."

"I see. What do you care about?"

"Myself. My goals."

"What are they? Besides killing Thanaton."

"To catalog the history of the Sith and all the lost knowledge of the galaxy. To become powerful enough that no one will ever use me to their own ends without my consent. And to temper your idealism enough that you don't get yourself killed a month after leaving."

He blinks slowly.

"How will you temper my idealism?" he decides is the best thing to ask.

"This conversation is one way. Other avenues may be less productive if you are alerted to them."

"...fair enough."

"Yes. Was there anything else?"

"I don't think so."

"Then I will take my leave. Good evening."

"Good evening," he sighs.

A quiet night aboard ship.

Quiet is right.

There's a message alert on her datapad when she wakes.

Huh. What's it say?