Ben could think of about ten thousand planets--including Hoth, Tatooine, Ziost, and the stupid hole the Hidden One had lived in--before he'd have voluntarily set foot on before Dromund Kaas, a planet so seeped in the dark side that Luke had erased it from star charts and general Jedi records for the safety of the public.

But here he was anyway, stomping through the humid guck with his father, his cousin, and Vestara, searching for Abeloth and trying not to lose his lunch because of the physical and spiritual nausea he was feeling.

“I don’t like this,” Luke said without preamble an hour into their search. “More than half a dozen places searched and no one’s found anything. Nothing at all.”

“Well,” Ben offered, “the galaxy is a fairly large place.”

“Of course,” Luke said, “but we should still be finding something. If nothing else, I’m surprised Abeloth hasn’t taunted us in some way. She needs an audience. This absolute inability to find anything at all, about either her and Ship or the Lost Tribe—” He shook his head. “It’s not adding up. She’s not hiding from us because she’s afraid. She’s hiding because she’s planning something. Combine that with the same inexplicable disappearance of the Lost Tribe—I’m willing to bet that they’re working together. They’re planning something. And when Abeloth and the Lost Tribe drop out of sight to plan something—it’s going to be very big, and very bad.”

Ben sighed. “Well, I don’t think we’re going to find them here.”

“I think,” came a rich, deep voice, “you already have.”

There were ten of them, all Sith Sabers, moving down the steps of the temple with their smirking faces lit by the red glows of their lightsabers. At their head was Vestara's father.

“Such promise," he said, tsking to see the company she was keeping, "and such disappointment. Your mother is dead, Vestara.”

Truth, undeniable and powerful, slammed into Ben. Vestara gasped. “What?” Then, with dawning horror, “Did—did you kill her?”

“No. But I did not stop her from being killed,” Khai said. “I will start fresh. A new wife, a new child. Both are easily replaced.” Vestara, usually a master of her emotions, jerked slightly as if slapped.

Before Ben could even register this, Khai Force-leapt down the stairs and charged.

At Vestara.

Ben moved toward Khai, but sensed that he himself was under attack. At the last minute he Force-leapt straight up, turned a somersault, and kicked out with both feet. One boot impacted a Sith’s face with a satisfying crunch. The other Sith ducked in time. Ben heard the sizzle of a lightsaber moving and jerked his foot up just in time to avoid having it sliced off, but the move forced him to land awkwardly. He hit the flagstones with his body half turned and tried to roll out of the way as the lightsaber slashed down. He was half a heartbeat too slow, and he hissed as the red blade seared his shoulder. Ender was going to be annoyed about that.

Ignoring the pain, Ben leaped back to his feet as three Sabers turned on him. Their Force auras blazed with confidence. Ben smiled to himself. He parried the two blades with his lightsaber clutched in one hand, whipping back and forth between the two foes. With the other hand, he Force-hurled the third into the air. Alert and attentive, he unerringly directed the Sith’s flight toward Gavar Khai, who was bearing down on his Vestara so forcefully their blades were a blur.

Ben was rewarded with a grunt from Khai before he had to return his full attention to the remaining two Sabers. His gaze flickered rapidly back and forth between one and the other, keeping their eyes on him as he used the Force to dislodge a flagstone and bring it down with a terrible final smash on the left one’s skull. The Sith dropped, his head a bloody mess. Ben drew more and more heavily on the Force—it was difficult here, so close to a dark-side nexus, and it took more out of him.

His senses were sharp, extended, focusing not just on battling the Sith but also on observing how his father, Jaina, and Vestara fared in the fight. As he had expected, the uncle–niece team of Skywalker and Solo were doing just fine. He could see the corpses strewn about, and with a flash of black humor thought the Sith, now potential tripping hazards, were more of a threat dead than alive.

Vestara’s voice rang out over the sound of battle. “Where does your loyalty lie, Father? Not with the Lost Tribe, I think!”

Gavar Khai’s reaction was strong. So strong that the Sith fighting Ben paused as if buffeted by it. It was only an instant of inattention—but when Saber and Jedi Knight battled, an instant was all that was needed.

Ben didn’t hesitate but plunged his blade forward into the Keshiri Sith’s chest. She died with a look of surprise on her face. Ben whirled, glancing first at his father and Jaina. They were more than holding their own, so Ben turned to Vestara. Her long brown hair was flying with the speed of her movement, her lightsaber a blur as she pushed the attack. Khai took one step back, then another and another, even with a state-of-the-art prosthetic arm clearly having difficulty countering his daughter’s savage attack.

Vestara cried out, sharply, wordlessly, her voice raw as she swung with all her skill and speed. Her red blade sliced through robes and flesh, cutting through him from right shoulder to left hip. He collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.

Vestara reached out a hand. His still-lit lightsaber, sizzling on the flagstones, sprang to her. Panting slightly, her skin gleaming with sweat and the moist air, she clutched a lightsaber in each hand. Her eyes met Ben’s and their gazes locked.

Lost in that piercing gaze, Ben heard, as if from a great distance, the sound of lightsabers being extinguished and knew that his father and Jaina had won their fights. He turned to them as they approached.

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “A burn on the shoulder, but should be all right. You?”

“We’ll need the bacta salve, but otherwise fine.” Luke regarded Vestara with an expression that was both cautious and kind. “I don’t think your father agreed to die just to convince me you’d betray him,” he said, and his voice was gentler than Ben had ever heard it when speaking to Vestara.

She blinked, as if coming out of a daze. “I—I had to kill him,” she said. Her voice was thick. “I had to kill my father...” Ben stepped up to her, wanting to comfort her, not knowing how. All the phrases he could say fell far short. Sorry about your father. You did the right thing. It’ll be all right. They were all hollow in comparison to the vastness of pain and shock Vestara was feeling.

The right words came from an unexpected source. “I had to kill my own brother,” Jaina said quietly. “I knew it was the right thing to do,” Jaina continued. “I did it to save my own life and the lives of many others. I still miss him. You’ll miss your father, too.”

“I … I had no choice.”

“No. You didn’t. Other than be cut down yourself,” Jaina continued. “It was the right thing for you to do, too. But you’ll still miss him … and wish there had been some other way.”

Vestara nodded, looking at Jaina gratefully. She took a deep breath and Ben felt her aura in the Force steady. He reached out and touched her arm gently. She gave him a shaky, broken smile.

“There were only ten,” Luke said. “They figured out where we were going somehow.”

“I didn’t—” Vestara began.

“I don’t think you did,” Luke replied. “They probably assumed we’d do exactly what we have been doing—investigating planets traditionally associated with Sith history. Khai probably chose this place because of the nexus. They could send a smaller team and still be stronger.”

“Or so they thought,” Jaina said.

“That means that their main flotilla is somewhere else,” Luke said.

“They’re with Abeloth,” Vestara blurted.

“What?” Ben said.

“I sensed it in my father. He—he questioned my loyalties, so I questioned his. And I was right.” She lifted her gaze and met Luke’s blue eyes evenly. “He no longer identifies with the Lost Tribe. He’s with Abeloth now—and I bet the rest of the flotilla is, too.”

Ben let out a slow whistle. “So now the Sith have gone from wanting to capture Abeloth to wanting to serve her,” he said. “And we’ve still got no clue as to where to start looking for her—or them.”

“The trail’s gone cold,” Luke said. “I think our best bet, for now, is to regroup and head back to Coruscant.”

Ben nodded. “Maybe Ender's figured something out since we've been out here.” He ignored the way Vestara's lips pursed in irritation to hear that.

[OOC: Adapted from Christie Golden's Ascension. Warnings for NPC death and soooo much scenery chewing.]