Fury still wondered that himself. Had he really fought Kanitah to seize his Machine? Had he done it out of some bizarre notion of pride? Did he do it for any reason at all? 

“I don’t know why I fought him. That is the truth.” Fury replied, after another lengthy pause. “But I killed him because he had something I needed, it’s as simple as that.” He made no apology for his actions, if the creature before him was Kanitah then killing him had not had the usual consequences anyway. Despite everything though, Fury couldn’t quite accept the man before him was the one he had killed. Maybe in body somehow, but not in spirit. To the Fireen that was often more important. 

Eventually, he stood, momentary weakness subsiding. He had learned what he came to learn here, but he suspected it would matter little in the end. His fate lay before that skeletal figure that he would destroy or be destroyed by. Manadar suspected it would be the latter. The question was, what to do with Dunnaman? In truth, it would make more sense to destroy a potential enemy in his infancy, but that same feeling that there was nothing in his future beset Fury. It was like a predator too long in the tooth. Impending doom has a tendency to make a man rather reckless, or apathetic, depending on their personality. 

“I have no fight with you, regardless.” He said. “I no longer care what happens to the Empire, to tell you the truth. I have something I need to do but it does not require me to take your life, so do as you will.” Fury made to turn, and then remembered the man’s ship was absolutely fucked.

“You can come with me if you wish. I will make the soldiers with me release you somewhere… better than this. If you do not trust me then remain here if you will.” The Fireen seemed ready to leave.