"Hunter."

The man does not have to reach very far for the smile he produces.

"Agent."

"It's over. The others are dead."

He chuckles.

"But of course. With you standing here, how could it be otherwise? They were never a match for you. That's why we went to such lengths to hide."

"Why did you run?"

Another chuckle, more forced than the last.

"I had pressing business elsewhere, of course. Believe me, those fools had it coming."

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"Nar Shaddaa, wasn't it? Some greasy little rathole of a cantina?"

His grin is genuine, and unbidden. He chooses not to suppress it.

"Blame the Republic for not paying their operatives better. You never did let me buy you that drink. I suppose it's too late, now."

"It doesn't have to be."

"But it is. Somehow I knew, right from the start, it would come down to this. You, and me, and that." He doesn't indicate the box behind him.

"Hunter-"

"You know," he interrupts. "I've always kind of hated that codename. But when you say it... Hell."

"This doesn't have to be the end. Just step aside."

"You more than anyone should know why I can't."

"Do you understand now the gift I gave you?"

"I do. But can't I..."

"Return the favor?" He shakes his head. "I'm afraid my trainers were much more thorough than that."

"Just do one thing for me."

"Anything."

"Don't give it to them. I've already keyed it to respond only to your biometrics. Just take it, and run, and use it to bring the whole thing down around their heads. The Jedi, the Sith, the Republic, the Empire, everyone. Everyone who made us, who used us. Burn it all, like they wanted to. But do it right."

"I promise."

"Thank you." His voice shakes. "Come on then, Cipher. You've still got a mission to finish."