"We all have our heroes. And when we watch them fall, we die inside. She made her choice once. And I did not."
Snow and ice, ice and snow. Such an appropriate place for meeting ghosts of the past. All the more this particular ghost.
- Atris.
- I did not expect to see you again after the day of your sentencing. I thought you had taken the exile's path, wandering the galaxy. Yet you have returned - why? - she is the snow itself. She is the ice. Colder than cryogen, her white robes so fitting, her pale eyes so stinging. And somehow she seems to know the answer to that question better than Meetra does. What are you up to, miss High Councillor?