Rafa: is so very not good at meditating.

She can meditate, of course, she can do anyth—she shouldn't think this. She shouldn't be thinking at all. Focus. On. Not focusing.

Aaaargh.

Hm. That girl doesn't seem to fit. Occlus can sense her turmoil, quite in contrast to the other students.

Her master seems to agree.

"Still your thoughts, young padawan. Remember the code."

She almost snaps, but just keeps her eyes closed, breathing evenly.

Fragile, yes, and discontent with the Jedi way. Dislike of the teacher. Weaknesses Occlus can exploit. Do what I ask and I shall set you free.

A tempting offer, as she well knows.

She eventually does slip into the appropriate mental state and start meditating, to her master's exasperated satisfaction.

Still the best prospect of the lot, and strong besides. Maybe even worth keeping, after her purpose has been served. On the other hand, the kill would be all the sweeter for that. Decisions, decisions.

With any luck, the girl will be one of those picked for the solitary assignments this afternoon, and Occlus can be done with this planet.

She in fact is, and she actually manages to hide her glee at being away from the master remarkably well.

Wonderful. And thanks to her Imperial maps of the planet, Occlus can slip away and beat the girl to her destination.

She's not going to confront her yet, though. First, wait and see if she behaves differently away from the group.

She is actually pretty disciplined and attentive. From the outside, the Jedi padawan is fairly unobjectionable. Inside she's just bored out of her mind.

Time to liven up her day.

Occlus circles around and approaches from the same direction the girl came. She stops deliberately repressing her Force presence as she does so, her shadowy psychic weight a counterpoint to her nonchalantly unthreatening gait.

She notices, of course, and tenses up, swirling on the spot.

"Jedi." Smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Sith," she sighs. "Why do I expect this is not a coincidence."

"Because you have good instincts. Ones that bring you into conflict with your masters."

"Is that so."

"I have been watching you. You feel constrained, hemmed in by precepts and your teacher's directives. Denied the fullest expression of your self."

"Uh huh."

"Do you deny this?"

"Deny or not deny, a Sith with a spooky evil presence comes to you asking about your emotions—I'm plenty creative. What do you want?"

"A favor for a favor. I can get you offworld without being followed. All I want in exchange is access to the enclave."

"What for?"

"Nefarious purposes. I am Sith, after all."

"I'm not dumb enough to buy the spiel they give us about you-all—it fails at basic human psychology and motivations—so please don't try to act like I'm stupid."

"There is a certain piece of ritual magic I wish to perform. It is... context-sensitive, and your enclave provides the proper setting."

"What does it do?"

"Puts an end to the poltergeist problem I've been hearing about."

"Why do you care about that?"

"Perhaps it amuses me."

She raises an eyebrow.

"You don't find that a satisfactory explanation?"

"Nope."

"It is close enough to true. I have... aesthetic objections to this sort of haunting."

"So you are stopping a haunting. Because it aesthetically displeases you."

"More or less."

Eyebrow.

"I discovered this ritual at great personal cost, and am not prepared to divulge its precise workings. The observable effects will be simply as I said, the exorcism of the ghost. I intend no harm to anyone in residence so long as I am not threatened first, if you were worried about that."

"Fine."

"You will let me in, then?"

"I want a guarantee."

Treacherous little snake-! Slithering your way up to back out now. Cut off your head and watch you writhe, yes.

-No. Control. She is close, so close. Even tone, no hint of that flash of rage: "A guarantee of what?"

"That you won't kill or maim anyone, will favor nonviolent approaches, and where violence is necessary will try to subdue over disabling." Pause. "And I guess a guarantee you'll get me the heck out of here after would be good, too."

"Fine." Words are easy, it's not as though the Jedi is any position to levy consequences should she decide to renege.

It might be worth not, just for the novelty of it.

"...and the guarantee is...?"

"My lightsaber." At Occlus's beckon, a matte-black cylinder unclips itself from her waist and zooms over to the Jedi, pommel first.

"You're serious?" she asks, shocked, not taking it yet.

"Were you expecting this to be some elaborate prank? I don't believe in half-measures."

She accepts it. "I'll help you."

"Good. When do you next have the night watch?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"I will see you then. Do not let your master catch you with my saber."

"I won't."

Occlus nods, and goes back the way she came, pulling in her presence as she leaves.

It's not just the condescension. Not just the belittling. Not just the indirect humiliation, the ignoring it when the other apprentices do the Jedi version of bullying, the subtle insistence that she's wrong and incorrect and will never amount to anything, the having to show respect for this despicable creature. It's all of it together.

So she has some mixed feelings about it all. Positive: never see her master again; negative: she's actually working with a Sith. Was that lightsaber even Occlus'? She didn't think to verify at the time—why is she even trusting the Sith? Is her master this horrible?

(Yes. Yes he is.)

So two days later she's waiting.

And, in the dead of night, when the enclave is quiet, Occlus comes ghosting up to the door.

It opens.

A large chunk of night detaches itself to follow her. Once inside, it resolves into the intimidating bulk of a Dashade.

"My bodyguard, Khem Val. Say hello, Khem."

The tall reptilian growls something that probably approximates a greeting.

She does not react with alarm, externally or otherwise, and merely dips her head in greeting.

"Watch the door," she says to Khem, then to the Jedi: "Do you have a single room or shared? Privacy would be best."

"Shared."

"We'll need somewhere else, then. At least two meters square of space. Preferably with a door."

"I can get a place like that."

She starts leading the way.

Occlus follows, hood up, flitting from shadow to shadow.

They eventually reach a small training room with a dummy and a drone in a corner.

"This will work." She pulls out a pen and begins tracing a circle on the floor, outlined by arcane runes. "Once I begin, it is important that you not disturb me. Ask any last minute questions now, or save them."

"Why'd you bring him?" she asks of the Dashade.

"Insurance against contingencies such as you changing your mind and greeting me with a squad of troopers instead of an open door."

She nods.

She finishes the diagram and puts the pen away, taking out a small knife instead. She makes a shallow cut on her palm and allows a few spatters of blood to drip down.

"This will be more effective with a sample from you as well, if you are willing."

She stares at the knife. "Why?"

"To conquer your enemy, you must first be able to confront him. Right now, the ghost is anchored but loosely to this place. He must be given cause and ability to manifest fully."

"And that entails this ritual needing my blood because...?"

"The blood is a symbolic link, representing in abstract your presence and power. Bait for the trap."

"Okay." She takes the knife and does as instructed.

Good. She can use the girl as focus.

She takes her knife back. "It will likely be angry when it gets here. Try to not respond."

She nods.

She extends both hands and channels power into the circle. It lights up and the droplets of blood hiss as they vaporize.

She casts about, seeking the untethered presence, passing over her own and the Jedi's and the master's and the other learners' until- there you are. She tightens a metaphorical fist around the ghost, pulling it in.

It resists, of course. They always do. But she is the stronger. This close, she can sense its identity. Kalatosh Zavros, as she suspected. She pushes the narrative she prepared, willing him to take it as truth, a necessary distraction for the next step. The runes on the floor get brighter and brighter, as does the light in the ceiling until with a sharp pop it burns out.

A suggestion of ghostly outline appears in the center of the circle.

Impressive. She continues to be very impassive—she's had a while of training.

Occlus grits her teeth and pulls-

The ghost solidifies. A Togruta. He looks around angrily until he spots Rafa. He bares his fangs and hisses.

"You! Trespasser! Defiler! You will burn for this blasphemy."

Uh huh. See how unimpressed Rafa is with you.

"I am God-King Zalatosh! Supreme among mortals! Kneel before me and repent your heresy and I may yet spare your pathetic life."

She will not snort. She promised no reaction, and no reaction he will get. She even manages to keep from rolling her eyes! She deserves the highest of praises for this feat of self-control.

Occlus is in the background, muttering an incantation. Her eyes glow a vivid purple.

"You think this amusing, blasphemer? You will learn proper respect!" He raises his hands and crackling energy spears forth.

She doesn't scream, but has to bite her tongue not to. "You said not to react!" she cries.

She doesn't respond to the call. Bringing her hands up, still muttering, a bright point of light between them.

The lightning abates as the ghost's posture stiffens. His mouth twists into a livid snarl.

"Traitorous filth. You and all your ilk shall hang for this, Proconsul."

What the hell does that even mean. She just groans.

The ghost gets fainter and the light in Occlus's grip gets brighter. It begins to suck him in, like a black hole devouring a star.

With a final cry of rage, he disappears entirely, and Occlus absorbs her light with a manic smile.

"You," she grunts, slowly sitting up, "made it sound like the ghost was harmless."

"You're still alive. Only slightly singed. Take it as a lesson about trusting strange Sith, no matter how, " smile, "reasonable they may seem. And be glad of the cheapness."

She frowns. "Fine. Small price. Are you happy? No one got hurt, can we go now?"

"Oh yes. Yes, let us be off and away. Things to do, galaxies to conquer. Teachers to escape."

"Okay, good." She takes a bit to steady herself, walks to the door, opens it—

—and someone is on the other side. He doesn't even look at her; his gaze falls immediately on Occlus. "Sith," he says.

"Jedi! How llllovely to see you!" she sing-songs. "I'd ask what brings you here but I suspect I can guess."

"You probably can," he agrees, and now he deigns to look at Rafa. "What did you do, child?"

She looks down at her feet and does not answer.

He sighs and looks back up at Occlus. "Why are you here?"

"Hmm. Iiii... don't think I'm going to tell you." She licks her lips. "Not willingly, at least."

He just keeps looking at her.

Sigh. "This is why I don't like Jedi. They're all so stuffy. No," she backhands a blast of concussive force at his chest, "fun."

He deflects the blast with one hand and then is holding his lightsaber.

"Ooh, feisty. I take it back, Jedi."

"You will explain what you are doing here, and I would prefer to be satisfied with the explanation..."

"What am I doing here? Well, before you so rudely interrupted, I was just leaving."

"And why did you come here in the first place?"

"I was hungry."

"I tire of your jokes, Sith. Explain yourself."

"Make me."

He doesn't even wait a dramatically appropriate amount of time; he just jumps towards her, lightsaber in hand.

She moves so quickly she seems to teleport, too fast even for Jedi reflexes. Her fist sheathed in lightning, she reappears behind him, striking at the back of his neck.

"No!" Rafa cries, regaining her voice.

He doesn't yell out but he does fall. Pushing through the pain he twirls on the spot and throws the training dummy at her to try to distract her, following that with once again trying to hit her with the saber.

Occlus catches the training dummy in midair and redirects its course to intercept his lightsaber. She blurs around behind again, this time aiming her fist at his kidney.

He doubles over, doesn't quite catch himself—

Take advantage of the distraction to knock the lightsaber out of his hand, follow up with a powerful kick to the back of the knee.

Fall to his knee, try to regain balance—

-slam his head down on the floor. Call his lightsaber over to her hand, ignite it and point it down at him, close enough to just crisp off the top layer of skin.

He freezes.

"Do you yield?"

"Please."

"Not to a Sith."

Her lips curl up in a vicious snarl as she plunges the saber down.

She drops the saber carelessly next to the body, and turns away.

"Pity. Now. We were just leaving, I believe?"

"I am leaving, at any rate. You can follow or not, as you choose."

She follows, mutely, frozen with horror.

"Never seen anyone die before?"

She stares at Occlus, now. "He was my master."

"Should I have let you deal the final blow, then? I do apologize. I derived immense satisfaction from killing my own."

"I told you not to kill anyone."

"I was adapting to changing circumstances. He forced my hand."

"You could've knocked him unconscious."

"Harder to ensure he'd stay out long enough to get away."

"Tie him up! Gag him! Lock him in a room!"

"He was not worth that effort."

...she falls silent.

They can walk quietly, then.

At the door, Khem Val joins them. Her speeder is a short distance away, far enough to not get picked up by the perimeter sensors.

Yes. Very quietly.

They take the speeder back to Occlus's ship, parked at the Imperial base some distance away. It's a few hours. Khem Val sits in the back, that's the only place he fits.

Halfway there, Occlus starts to fidget, tapping her fingers impatiently on the steering controls. She starts driving faster, pushing the speeder closer to its maximum output.

"...is something wrong?"

Low growl.

"No."

...she is actually menacing, Rafa has just seen her take down her master, she will not antagonise the scary Sith lady. She falls silent again.

Probably a wise decision, under the circumstances.

The parking job Occlus does at the end puts a strain on the inertial compensator. She fairly storms up the ramp to the ship.

Rafa follows, keeping a safe distance.

"Pirate! Get us moving."

A thin man with a dragon tattoo around one eye looks up from the holoboard.

"...Right. Anywhere in particular?"

"Away from here," she growls stalking off the her quarters and sealing the door behind her.

"Pfft. Yeah, sure, Sith." The man notices Rafa and blinks. "You're new."

Khem Val shoulders past. "<A small morsel only. Not worth the time.>"

"Never change, big guy."

"Yes, I am," she replies neutrally, ignoring Khem Val.

"So, uh, what's your story?"

"The Jedi lifestyle is not for me. The Sith lifestyle is not for me either, mind you. I wanted out, so I left."

"You're the one that got her into the enclave, huh. What'd she say, she'd give you a ride out?"

"Yes."

"Sith'll probably actually kill me if I don't get us moving. Why don't you come up to the bridge with me, help pick a destination. Since she declined to specify one."

"—sure." She follows.

There are four seats, arranged in a circle around a galaxy map projector. The two closest to the viewport have banks of controls. The pirate takes the seat furthest from the door.

"Name's Andronikos, by the way."

"Rafa," she introduces, taking the opposite seat.

"So there actually was a ghost?"

"Yes. Rather violent one, too. She do this a lot?"

"Nah, it's a new thing. Something to do with Sith politics, she's got to kill a guy who objected to her promotion or something."

"...uh huh. That sounds absurd."

"That's pretty much how these people work, huh. I try not to have an opinion on it."

"I'm not sure that's a thing I can meaningfully do."

"Yeah, well. You've got the Force. Different for you."

"...I'm pretty sure against her it would not help me that much."

"Better chance than I'd stand, kid."

"I guess," she sighs. "I'd just run."

"Speaking of, you have any idea where you want to go?"

"Nar Shaddaa," she suggests.

"Smuggler's Moon, huh. Suits me." He puts in the coordinates. The navcomp hums to itself, then beeps. Andronikos flicks a switch and pulls a lever, and the stars elongate and merge into the swirling vista of hyperspace.

Ooh. Hyperspace is pretty. She likes it.

"Be there in a day or two. So, you know what you're gonna do when you get there?"

"Probably get as far away from all Sith and Jedi as I possibly can and then figure out how to use to Force to be not-that."

"Smart. Good luck, huh."

"Thank you. ...do I have a room?"

"Bunks're back the way we came, take a left, first door on the right."

"Thank you."

She goes where directed.

It's a plain barracks-style room, eight bunkbeds lined along the walls. Similar to the accommodations she just left.

No one else, though, which is nice. She sets what little stuff she brought with herself—a couple of changes of clothes, toiletries, books—and decides to go explore the ship.

Bunkroom, washroom, closed door that is probably Occlus's room, galley slash living area, engine room, cargo hold. It's not a big ship.

Well. She'll grab a book and return to the bridge.

Andronikos is fiddling with some readouts.

She won't interrupt him. She takes a seat again and resumes her book.

"Nar Shaddaa's a rough place, you know. Not saying you can't handle it or anything, but. You sure you know what you're doing?"

"I'm absolutely not sure of any such thing."

"Look, I know hanging around this ship is probably the last thing you want to do, but we're probably going to be in port a couple days anyway while Sith makes up her mind which way she wants to jump next. Let me tap some people I know, see if I can get you a place on a freighter or something. Until you figure things out."

"I mean, I have figured out that I want to be a Force user not aligned with either Jedi or Sith. It's just not very obvious how I'd actually go about doing that."

"Yeah. Don't think I can really help with that, huh."

"No, but—if you have a better place than Nar Shaddaa in mind where I could look for it, I'd appreciate the tip."

"Look for a planet called Voss."

She looks at the sudden arrival, neutrally. "Hello. What's there?"

"A mysterious group of unaligned Force users. Only recently discovered."

"Hmm. Where's that? Where are they from—I mean, how'd they get to Voss, what were they doing before they were discovered..."

"They are native to Voss. It's in the Outer Rim, here." She highlights it on the galaxy map.

"Hmm. I don't suppose you'd take me there?"

"I could not. The planet is under diplomatic lockdown. The Empire will permit no unapproved ships to approach while they are negotiating, and I understand the Republic has instituted a similar policy. The Voss could be valuable allies, and no one wants their bargaining position jeopardized."

"Hrm. Tips for getting there? Smuggler friends perhaps?"

"I could put out some feelers."

"That would be very kind of you."

"Thank me after you see what kind of ship I turn up, huh."

"That's fair." Pause. "Why are you going to help me?"

Shrug. "I've been where you're at. Not exactly, but close enough."

"Well. Regardless of the kind of ship, I'm very thankful."

"If I had less to do, I might seek out the Voss myself. They must have a fascinating perspective."

"What, if I might ask, do you have to do?"

"Kill a member of the Dark Council."

"...why?"

"He tried to kill me first."

"That's as good a reason as any, I suppose. Why did he?"

"A grudge against my former master. He wished to destroy her and all her legacy."

"...and you're part of her legacy—that is the pettiest thing I've heard in my life and I was a Jedi padawan."

"One of the advantages of being a Councilor is that your petty grudges need not remain petty, because you can back them up with the weight of Empire."

"I'm pretty sure it's still petty, Empire or no."

Shrug.

"What's your plan to kill him?"

"Accumulate enough power to be able to crush him by barely lifting a finger, then doing just that."

"I expect the method of power accumulation is a secret."

"If no one knows what you're doing, it's much harder for them to stop you."

"...honestly unless you want to continue the stupid conflicts I have no reason to want to stop you, killing someone who's working to kill you is a very reasonable thing in my books. But also you're apparently pretty nonchalant about killing in general which I find somewhat more objectionable."

"You are either desensitized to violence very early at the Academy on Korriban, or you become a lesson for the others."

"I'm not sure I'd ever become desensitised to the point where I'd just inflict it without spending a lot of time thinking of third alternatives. It's too—easy to slip into the mode of thinking where that seems like the only or best solution. It probably also helps that I value all sapient life."

"Idealism. Hesitation can and will get you killed."

"Looking for a third alternative only translates to hesitation if you're incompetent and not a very good advance planner."

"Suit yourself."

"I often do, Jedi code or no."

"Through victory, freedom."

"Through knowledge, I gain victory," she retorts.

"I'll not dispute the validity of that."

"I find both codes so terribly incomplete and simplistic."

"Nuance is not their primary purpose. A simple, concrete reminder of the basis of each ethos."

"Yes, and I think both bases are incomplete and simplistic."

"What would your philosophy look like?"

"It'd involve the fact that sapient beings respond to incentives and that there's no objective morality so it's absurd to ascribe ethical value to emotional states."

"Emotional states are the prelude to physical action."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that varies from person to person? You can take physical action based on a conscious choice you made long before regardless of moment-to-moment emotions—unless that's what you mean, in which case yeah."

"In my experience, both observational and personal, moment-to-moment emotions can very easily overwhelm any premeditated decisions."

"Very easily, yes, but I am pretty certain that is also something that varies from person to person—and I would not be so short-sighted as to then create a whole moral code that says that's bad and evil. Or one that enshrines it as the ideal state of mind."

"If you include too much variation, no one will take it seriously. People differ, yes, but part of the codes' purpose is to unify them into a cohesive whole regardless."

"Can the cohesive whole not be something like 'do that which will bring the most good to people, according to people themselves instead of some lofty goal you decided was morally superior'?"

"How do you define 'most good'? Why should you trust people to have an accurate assessment of what would be best for them? What if what is best for one person is worst for someone else? "

"Respectively: by whatever metric the person themself defines as good; I definitely trust whoever's living inside a brain to know said brain better than anyone not living there, on average, and most of the time someone thinks they know what's best for other people the end result looks suspiciously like they're getting what they want and are happy and the person they're supposed to help aren't; and you compromise where you can and fall back on social rules that are agreed upon by everyone beforehand where you can't."

"Abstract, complicated, and uninspiring. The Sith offer me unlimited power, the Jedi promise universal understanding. What do you have? 'Do what you want, as long as it doesn't inconvenience anyone'? You would have as many creeds as you had followers, assuming any cared enough to take up such a cause."

"I have 'find the means to satisfy your desires' for the supermajority of the population, and the statistical anomalies that are completely incapable of living like that are free to go found their country elsewhere," she shrugs. "Sapients are in fact complicated and fitting them into simple boxes is doomed to fail."

"You don't have any boxes at all. Nothing to differentiate yourself. This is not a unifying philosophy."

"'Respect other people and satisfy everyone's preferences' is a unifying method, it's absurd to try to come up with unifying content, people are in fact different. Trying to pretend one solution will fit everyone will cause the majority of them to suffer."

"People are all the same. Any differences you see are surface-level at best. If you take a man from Dromund Kaas and a Senator from Coruscant and a farmer from Dantooine and you hold them over the precipice, an inch from death, they will all say the same thing. Hold the same fear in their minds."

"Everything is made of atoms, but that doesn't make everything the same thing. Why is the fear of death more real or important or fundamental to who a person is than all the other parts?"

"It is the common thread. The unity that connects all life. Not just fear of death, but desire to continue. The urge of self-propagation. This is what the Jedi and Sith tap, in their enweaving. A Jedi would not fear the plunge, his Code teaches 'there is no death'. A Sith would spit in your face, confident that her power in the Force will free her. What answer do you have, confronted by that?"

"It's what connects all life, yes, but the important thing about people isn't being alive—plants are, bacteria are, life isn't what makes people people. I don't have an answer to that because there is no universal answer. If you have the power to prevent your own death and the desire to do so, you will, and not otherwise. What other answer makes sense?"

"It's not about making sense. It is about protecting and spreading your ideas. You have this marvelous notion that will change the landscape of galactic culture and ensure everyone is happy. Wonderful. But suppose I come up to one of your followers and say to them, do what I want, ignoring your own preferences, or I will kill you. What response can they give? If I am stronger than whoever they call on to defend them, they have none. And then I say, the only way to prevent your own death is to do unto others this same thing."

"Then I first get enough power that I can protect everyone, and after that I make sure none are vulnerable to this sort of extortion. The Jedi do exist, in defiance of this conclusion of yours."

"The Jedi exist because their Code innoculates them against this attack. They do not fear death because they believe they will live on in the Force. They have an answer."

"And people who are not Force sensitive are neither Jedi nor Sith and can lead great lives without having to conform to these monolithic philosophies."

"Only for so long as they are ignored. Look at the third of the galaxy controlled by the Hutts. No Force users there, beings still live in thrall to those who command fear and offer survival."

"Yeah, but that's because the Jedi are only marginally better than mud and lack the tiniest smidgen of altruism."

"So say the Jedi did sweep in and drive off the Hutts. What then? Someone like the Hutts will come along again and then you will be in exactly the same situation."

"Well, they install a better government, train a military force that will prevent someone like the Hutts from coming, divide the different kinds of political and military power to keep each other in check, decentralise it all, focus on education and cultural outreach so people don't make the same mistakes again..."

"So the Hutts are gone, well and good, but now the Jedi have stepped into their place, telling people how to arrange their lives because they know how best to do that. These institutions won't appear overnight, and if you don't supervise their formation, they won't be in a form you approve of. Bad habits left over from the previous regime. But say you get everything arranged, and then the Jedi step back, peaceful transfer of power accomplished. This region of the galaxy now looks like it did before the Hutts, many small, mostly independent polities with a degree of military power. You still haven't solved the problem."

"I will presumably have installed a greater degree of military force and a way of fighting them off, and I only used the Jedi as an example, they'd actually be terrible at it. My point is—this has gotten nuanced, these answers aren't simple and straightforward and I don't claim to know exactly what the best thing to do is right now, and I see that as a fundamentally superior alternative to the Jedi and Sith philosophies that say they do know and are actually wrong about it and cause much more suffering than they alleviate."

"A fine sentiment, if you intend to go sit in a cave in a swamp somewhere and meditate on the ideal nature of society. But if you want to effect change in the galaxy, professed knowledge will trump acknowledged ignorance every time. You can shout from the rooftops how wrong and evil the current ways of thinking are, but unless you have an alternative to offer, no one will listen to you. Lacking answers is their default state, they have no desire to return."

"Alright, talk to me in fifty years and we'll see."

"Assuming you survive so long."

"Sure."

"I'd give her better odds on making it that far than you, Sith."

"I'm just saying, huh."

"I can't imagine going on revenge quests against Sith Lords is good for your life expectancy."

"He's the one who should worry."

"That's the spirit."

Occlus zaps her. Briefly.

"Mind your tone."

She doesn't yelp, but only because she'd been expecting this. "Can you teach me that?"

"Why should I?"

She shrugs. "Why not? It's not like I'm going to be a threat, I don't particularly care about Sith politics and you seem at least less petty than the current Lord you want to kill."

"Coddled little Jedi. Everyone is a threat."

"And yet, someone taught you."

"Didn't exactly work out well for her. I killed her."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, actually."

Occlus snorts.

"She was trying to kill me. Though I would have done it unprompted not much longer after it ended up happening."

"Would you? Why?"

"Because she would have had little left to teach me, and I would have been in a position to do so securely."

"...that sounds like a terrible reason, why do Sith teach each other anything around if they just want to kill their teachers for no good reason?"

"Because occasionally the short-term benefit of having a helper outweighs the risk, or they think they can maintain a superior position such that the apprentice will never be able to kill them. Or they are invested in the continuation of the Sith as a whole, and believe that the strongest deserves to survive, even if that happens to not be them."

"How is your culture even still around?"

"Having the Emperor as an immutable capstone enables some degree of continuity, and the overall hierarchy is in general not seriously threatened by the actions of any one individual."

"But the population of the galaxy is only growing, whereas this makes it sound like yours can at best remain stable over the centuries—and it seems unlikely to do so, it would require long-term average replacement rate of one and that's very unlikely in this setup!"

"It has lasted several millennia thus far."

"Yes, hence my confusion."

"It is vastly more common to take an apprentice eventually than to not. Many take more than one, sequentially or in parallel."

"Huh. So killing your master just because you can is not that common."

"Depends on the Sith."

"Why did you not just leave?"

"To go where? I would have been pursued, certainly."

"Pursued? Why? If you had outgrown your master's teachings...?"

"An apprentice is an investment. You don't let one get away that easily."

"Investment into what?"

"Time, energy, often other resources. This ship was a 'gift' from my master."

"—oh. She wanted you as a minion."

Occlus seems to find that vaguely amusing.

"Am I wrong or are you laughing at my naïveté?"

"Your imagination is charmingly limited."

"Did she want you as a slave? A sex slave? A host body to her incorporeal mind? A token of trade? An ingredient for a ritual?"

"Better guesses. If you have such a mind, do not limit it so."

She shrugs. "I am very creative, but I'm lacking in prior information that would let me direct it, given everything I know of the Sith was what the Jedi could teach. I could spend hours coming up with guesses, but you can feel free to give hints."

"No, I don't think I will."

"Do you want me to just keep guessing? Are you even going to tell me when I'm right?"

She shakes her head. "What uses do Sith Lords in general get out of apprentices, regardless of what yours wanted?"

"An apprentice does whatever they are told to. An extra body and mind can be useful in a variety of ways, as tool or aide. It is also a way of expressing one's own mastery, a status symbol."

"And is there a normal graduation process that does not involve anyone killing anyone else?"

"So long as you have a living master, you will always be an apprentice. Your master may promote you, but you will never ride higher than they."

"...wow that is such a badly designed system who made it."

She sighs and shakes her head. "Do you seriously buy into all of this?"

"Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"No, you don't, that's why I asked, it was a bit incongruous."

"It's easier to blow up a bunker from the inside."

"Yes, I appreciate the logic. I tend to have vague desires to try to change stuff rather than blowing it up but honestly it's unlikely to be worth it, or even at all possible, in this case."

"Little is."

"What are you planning to do after you kill that Lord?"

"He sits on the Dark Council. If I kill him properly, I take his place."

"...and then what happens? Do you help rule the Sith or something?"

"I do whatever I want to."

"Really? No obligations come with the title?"

"Nothing that presents an obstacle."

"I see." Pause. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"Yes."

"Would you answer if I asked what it was?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. Say, wanna use your power to build a large-scale third option that isn't as stupid as the Jedi and the Sith and doesn't require anyone to go to some remote planet somewhere?"

"That sounds like a waste of my time."

She sighs. "I'm not sure what kinds of things aren't, you aren't very forthcoming about it."

"Interesting things are not a waste of my time. You are an interesting thing."

"And creating an entire alternative to Jedi and Sith so that you're forever known as its founder isn't?"

"Entirely too much work."

"Interesting things that don't require you to expend a lot of effort?"

"That would be an adequate summation."

"How much political power does a Sith Lord actually have?"

"It varies."

"Huh. Okay, I guess."

Occlus studies Rafa for a moment, eyes narrow.

"Do you still wish to learn to summon lightning?"

"Yeah, I'd like to."

She stands.

"Follow me."

She stands, as well, and follows.

Occlus leads the way to the cargo hold, where she sets up a practice dummy.

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion." She punctuates each word with a blast of electricity at the dummy. "The lightning is a manifestation of the truth behind those words. A physical representation of what you feel. Who do you hate?"

"If there was anyone like that you killed him."

"Do you remember what it felt like? A twisting heat coiled inside you, or ice-cold clarity suffusing your mind. Recall it. Focus your energy upon it." Pause. "Then let it out."

She looks at the dummy.

She thinks about her master.

She'd met other masters before. They'd say things, and those were the same things her master would say, but—different, somehow. It was like he was trying to be more of a Jedi than anyone else, to embody its precepts. And he looked down on everyone who wasn't like that—looked down on her. She could see the way he despised her, the way he thought she was worthless, useless, would never amount to anything, would never live up to any standards. The disgust in his eyes, the chores, the way he subtly nudged everyone else to "make a better Jedi out of her."

She hates him.

She tries to let it all out.

She fails.