Darth Malthael stared at Darth Tenebrus's corpse before him, his gaze grim. He walked up to the Bacta tank and looked at Darth Tenebrus's body swaying slightly amid the bubbles. Slowly, he said, "Since you made a move personally, you should have been prepared for me to discover it, shouldn't you? Grandmaster... Don't you want this body anymore? In the end, I still underestimated your resolve in this regard..."
When he had found Darth Tenebrus's corpse, it had been to leave himself a contingency. On one hand, it ensured that he had a way to add another layer of insurance to Darth Pregas's death without showing himself personally. On the other hand, it was for his Dark Side knowledge...
He had studied under Darth Pregas for only three years. Though he considered himself quite talented and a quick learner, The Way of the Force was vast beyond measure. A mere three years could not allow him to truly enter those deepest, darkest depths.
Yet his greatest enemy—Darth Sidious—had cultivated the Dark Side Force for more than thirty years! No matter how confident he was, he had to admit that Darth Sidious's talent was in no way inferior to his own, perhaps even greater!
So he needed further guidance, and Darth Tenebrus was the best possible choice.
But by then, Darth Malthael and Darth Tenebrus had practically laid their cards on the table. He could no longer play the groveling grandson as he had while studying under Darth Pregas to make the other side lower his guard. Of course, back when he stood before Darth Pregas, whether in strength, influence, or wealth, he truly had been nothing more than a grandson.
But things were different with Darth Tenebrus. He had to contend with Tenebrus as an equal, or even from a