The Exile threw her arms around Canderous and let him hold her. She
wept, her body wracked with deep, heaving sobs. When she found she
could speak again, she choked, "Who did this? The Sith? Darth Traya
is dead, and so are Nihilus and Sion. Their--remnants--would have
turned on each other without a Master. So who could have?"
As her head reeled and her temples throbbed, the Exile clenched her
hands into fists. "I know I was once called a Jedi by Darth Traya, but
I am a Jedi no longer. How can I follow their code of peace and
emotional detachment when--this--happened, Canderous? I don't
want to be peaceful. I don't want to be emotionless, like a droid
or a war machine. I want vengeance, and for the killer to pay!"
She cringed to hear herself say it. This was not the Jedi way, but then
again, was she ever really a true Jedi? She longed to hit something, to
punch it, but the only thing she could find was the rock-steady Canderous.
Not wanting to attack him, she simply let sorrow and exhaustion overtake
her. "Are you still with me now, after I've betrayed the code I once followed?"