Our nearly extinct people. It saddens him greatly even as it brushes painfully close against the sort of thoughts and awful possibilities he has resolutely not dwelt upon for...what seems like so long, now. You cannot know what else has happened, whispers a voice in Plo's thoughts that is at once his own and Tyvokka's, and Yoda's, and others with them. Not yet. And you cannot do anything about it now. So mind what is in front of you, and the Force.

What else can he do, but that?

"I mourn to hear of your people's struggles, and your own," he says, quietly. "My own people place great value on life; that is a most worthy dedication."