"I understand."

The faintest smile lifted the edges of his mouth. Even so little a movement would have been alien when he had been with the Sith Order. That had not been a place for smiles, and even since leaving it he found it a difficult emotion to reveal. Happiness. He was happy with where this encounter had gone. It was as good a result as he could ever hope for. Zereth could tell that Michael was far too proud, and much too angry, to ever ask for help or take it if it was offered directly. This was the best way. Indirect, an option, that allowed him the agency to choose to accept it or not. This fork in the road still saw them parting on to their own roads, but it left a door open should Michael ever take it.

He had done all that he could.

"May the force be with you, Michael."

He offered a single hand, held out, open and inviting. There are been no pleasantry on their meeting. Hopefully there could be some on the departure. Everything was different now. When they met they were as good as enemies poised on opposite ends of a battlefield so hazy they had not seen the other until they were right upon each other. Now the smoke was clearing and they could see each other for what they were. They left not as adversaries, certainly not as allies, but perhaps as just men trying to make their own in this chaotic galaxy.