The door opens.

A red haired woman in dark armor blinks at a room that she was not expecting. Her eyes scan the room, then lock on the blond man in his chair. She had not sensed a Jedi behind this door before she opened it.

The feeling is mutual.

She feels... odd. Certainly not the shining beacon Yoda was, nor the black hole of the Emperor. Almost like his father did, towards the end.

He smiles at her. "Hi there. Bar says the first drink is free, if you're thirsty."

She raises her eyebrows, slightly. What the hell?

"... Hello. Does the drink come with a complimentary explanatory pamphlet?"

"She communicates with napkins so... yes?"

"Excellent. Can you or she perhaps explain where my cargo hold went?"

"The way I understand it, it's still there, the door was just temporarily rerouted."

"By what mechanism?"

Because that sounds several types of impossible.

Shrug. "Some sort of magic, it seems like."

It is amazing just how much someone can communicate with a pair of eyebrows and a doubtful expression. For example, this woman can successfully communicate the phrase, Bullshit.

But Occlus is at a Dark Council meeting, quite unreachable by comm for at least another hour or so, and Callida is not going to leave this problem alone until her teacher is free. This is her ship, and she's investigating this phenomenon.

"I see," she says, mildly. "One moment."

She raises her comm to her lips.

"TN-R13." There is an answering (and slightly grumpy) series of beeps. "There is an unknown phenomenon currently borrowing the door to my ship's cargo hold. And also an unknown Force user. Probable Jedi. Do please send some kind of security if you don't hear from me in, oh. Fifteen minutes." More beeps, this set loud and grouchy enough that Luke can pick out // Jedi + ship == Mynocks + ion port // Ship == faulty //, which earns a faint snort from the woman. "Noted."

And in she steps.

"Your droid sounds like my R2 unit when he's had a bad day."

"TN-R13 demands new tools when its had a bad day," she says, taking a seat at the bar. She is not going to sit next to the Jedi; she would like to have some time to react if he decides he would like to act like the last Jedi she met and threaten her with a lightsaber. "And gets much more irate."

"I'm not familiar with the TN series."

"They were an experimental offshoot to the T7 series, designed to be sturdier and programmed for more decisive decision-making capabilities in crises. Unpopular because it turns out that many people are put off by decisive droids beeping orders at them. The chassis upgrades made it to the T7 model, the programming - did not." She's not actually very good at droids, but TN-R13 has made very sure she knows everything about this particular subject. Somewhat to her dismay.

"Astromech?"

"... Yes?"

"T7 hasn't been a standard astromech designator in," he counts on his finger, "almost three thousand years."

"... I see. And what is the galaxy like, after three thousand years?"

"Just got done fighting an Emperor. We're still trying to put the pieces back together."

"Another Emperor." Whatever this is, it's not very creative. "By your tone, I make the assumption that he was - atrociously power hungry, narcissistic, and had grown so powerful he was nigh unstoppable and long thought to be unkillable?"

"Pretty much. Ruled the galaxy with an iron fist, had all the Jedi hunted down and killed."

"... All?" she says, blinking. A hypothetical galaxy with only Sith sounds horrific indeed. The Jedi aren't perfect, but they are pretty good at keeping the Sith from taking over everything and then running it right into a sun. "How quickly did the Sith devolve into self destructive in-fighting without them?"

"There were only two. Him and" my father "his apprentice."

"Ah. So with all the Jedi dead and with only two Sith, did you learn from holocrons, or has a third order finally been founded?"

"They didn't get all the Jedi. Two managed to escape notice. I learned from them."

"How very... symmetrical," says Callida. "Well, thank you for not threatening me with a lightsaber, this is a vastly more civil conversation than the one I had with the last Jedi I met."

"I don't see how that would help anything, we're having a perfectly pleasant conversation."

"It wouldn't," she says, sagely. "And yes, we are. Which reminds me."

She stands, goes to and opens the door, and says on her comlink: "Belay the security team, please. When Occlus leaves her meeting let her know I'm having a pleasant chat and will provide more information when I have it."

// Callida == ++fast // Jedi/mynock + ship == False alarm? //

"No."

// Callida + next time =/= [ ++fast demand => immediate revision ] // TN-R13 == valuable // Processing time =/= infinite // TN-R13 - //

"I apologize for the demands on your time," sighs Callida, "but I thought it wise to have you on standby while I took a few minutes to-"

// TN-R13 =/= standby! // Time + last message == 6.29 seconds!! // There is a pause, then, louder: // Callida + disturbance == minutes? //

".... It has been, yes. That is very odd."

A mynock, is he? Definitely never letting Artoo hear that particular analogy.

"Ah, Bar did mention something about time pausing on the other side of the door when it's shut."

"Ah. Apparently while the door to the bar that has borrowed my cargo hold is closed, time is paused."

There is another pause, this one longer.

// Crazy time wizardry =/= TN-R13's problem // decides the astromech droid.

Callida snorts. "No, I suppose it isn't. Thank you for being patient with me, I apologize for the confusion. I'll endeavor not to let the - crazy time wizardry bother you in the future."

// Callida == tolerable //

"Thank you."

She closes the door again.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet, have I? I'm Luke, Luke Skywalker."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Lord Callida."

"Lord...?"

"I would have thought the attire would have given me away," she says dryly. She eyes his clothes. "Though I suppose fashion might have changed in the apparent three thousand year gap. Usually black's for Sith Lords, you know."

"As the last official Force-user in the galaxy, I've got some leeway in the uniform department."

"Ah." Callida smiles, slightly, and decides to sit. This time, her seat's across from him, and she props her head up with an arm to look at him critically. "And leeway in other departments as well? I'd thought it standard procedure to threaten Sith Lords with lightsabers. We're dangerous, you know. Or was my previous experience an anomaly?"

"Well, that wouldn't be my first choice of response. But I don't know anything about the circumstances of your last encounter."

"As I understand it, she and her companion had just killed the Emperor - compare mine to yours, except this one managed to keep a handle on an entire bloated society of Sith - and were looking for an escape route off the planet. They went poking about my ship, I opened the door and said hello, armed with a bowl of cereal and a lot of nerve." And the knowledge that she was the only one on her ship that could maybe take them, and at the very least, she should keep herself between them and the people under her command. "They requested passage off the planet, which I declined to give them. Then my cereal was sadly bisected, and I was threatened." She considers. "To her dubious credit she didn't seem like she was all that experienced with making threats. It was very 'Do what I want or else,' to which I asked, 'Well, what is the else?' which did not go over well."

Her words are flippant, but there's some hint of deeper motives to her, though nothing particularly easy to pick out without something more invasive.

"Ah. Well. My Jedi training was- not fully completed, but confronting the Emperor was a fraught experience, emotionally. I would be... surprised, if she had been her best self in the time afterwards. His presence was almost overwhelming."

She is looking at him very intensely now.

"I imagine so, and while I sympathize, is that how it is to go? She suffered from the presence of an evil man, and so whatever she does to innocent bystanders is justified, as long as they're labelled with the correct word that means 'not a person'?"

"Not justified. Understandable, maybe. Threatening an uninvolved bystander was wrong of her, and she should bear responsibility for what she did. But I think it's important to consider context. When people are under stress, it's easier for us to make decisions that are wrong, that hurt others. If it was me, I would regret my actions and hope that the person I harmed would be able to take the circumstances into account when I asked for forgiveness."

"Hm," says Callida, still eyeing him. Is that a smile? It looks like a faint smile.

"Full completed Jedi training or not, I think you're doing all right."

Luke is utterly oblivious to any faint smiles.

"It doesn't feel that way most of the time."

"No? What does it feel like, most of the time?"

"Like I'm stumbling around in the dark, blind and deaf."

"I can sympathize." She thinks of her time stumbling around in dark tombs, of that first time stumbling around in pitch darkness. Empathize might be more accurate.

"Want to talk about it?" she wonders, lightly.

"I said I was the last Jedi, but I won't be forever. My sister is going to have children soon, and they'll be Force-sensitive more likely than not. I didn't start my training until I was nineteen. I have no idea how I'm going to teach them or even if I'm the sort of person who can."

"Well, to begin, what happens if they don't want to be Jedi?"

"Then I still have a responsibility to teach them enough that they don't fall down the same path as Vader."

"Vader being the Emperor?" she clarifies.

"No. Vader was... his servant."

"So you want to keep them from being horrifically manipulated by a monstrous, selfish, power-hungry megalomaniac that wants to whittle down their willpower in order to use them for his own nefarious goals."

"When you put it like that it sounds like it shouldn't be that hard. I just have to make sure there aren't any more monstrous, selfish, power-hungry megalomaniacs out there. But I don't want them to have to learn the hard way if I miss one."

"And not all monsters are shaped the same," she agrees, reasonably. "In my experience, the trick is not actually in keeping them in a box where no monsters can touch them, it's helping them to build the mental architecture to identify and then oppose them. And, well, keeping them safe while they're constructing it."

"It's the second part I'm most worried about."

"Understandably. How did you do it? I can't imagine you were particularly safe at the time."

"A lot of trial and error. More mistakes than I'd like to admit."

"Making mistakes is part of being alive, I think." For some absurd reason, she has the urge to say, 'My mistakes involved accidentally torturing someone,' but actually let's never say that ever.

"This is speaking largely from personal experience, and for others it might be different, but I grew a lot as a person when I was given the chance and resources to learn more about the galaxy. To understand different perspectives and philosophies and allowed to come to my own conclusions without being - pressured to match a specific doctrine. My teacher doesn't... perhaps use a teaching method I can wholeheartedly recommend, but she advised, taught, and supported me when I needed it."

"I know all about alternative teaching methods." He smiles wryly. "My teacher used to have me run around a swamp with him on my back. But that's good advice. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She considers the visual of carrying Occlus through a swamp on her back, and can't resist smiling a little. "Carrying your teacher on your back. How bizarre. Perhaps also don't do - that. Unless you're planning to cover their medical insurance for the inevitable back problems."

"He was very short." Demonstrative gesture.

"Ah, I see."

"Did all kinds of crazy stuff with him. Some of it makes a lot more sense in retrospect. Funny that it was only a few years ago, but I feel like I was so young and foolish then."

"One of the rarely mentioned downsides to growing as a person is unfortunately looking back on yourself and thinking, 'Wow, I was an idiot.'"

"Ha. Yes, that does get awkward."

"You know, you're not exactly what I was expecting the next Sith I met to be."

"I am something of an anomaly, among Sith," she agrees. "Were you expecting - let me guess, baseless threats of violence, attempts to manipulate you to give in to your darker impulses, maybe a melodramatic monologue or two?"

"Pretty much, going on past experience."

"Would it help if I began to monologue, perhaps? Talk about my nefarious deeds and how you don't know the power of the ever so creatively named Dark Side?"

"I feel more at home already."

Snort.

Teasingly: "I am the Sith Lord Callida, single apprentice to the Dark Councilor of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge. Join me and learn all the secrets the Force has to offer."

"No idea what half of that means but it's definitely very spooky."

She laughs, softly.

"I wasn't actually trying to be very spooky, there. Those were the official and intimidating Sith names, because Sith culture is not in the habit of subtlety. In more colloquial terms, I am an archaeologist and librarian."

He bursts into laughter.

He has a very charming laugh. She is charmed by it.

"Join me and spend a large fraction of your time excavating tombs and translating obscure texts. Have all of the secrets of the Force at your fingertips without the strain of seeing the light of day for weeks."

"Is that why it's called the dark side?"

She resists outright giggling, but another laugh reaches the surface, soft and genuine.

"Oh, probably."

"I suppose with more Sith, you must specialize more."

"Sort of. The motivation is more along the lines of... specializing means Sith are somewhat less likely to step on each others' toes and subsequently attempt to kill each other. Else there'd be no stability at all. Even then, power struggles are regrettably common."

"Ben said there were always two, a master and an apprentice. I wonder when that changed."

"Could be the most stable example of Sith. It's an odd rule to codify, but I could see how it might be tempting to not have to worry about multiple apprentices competing for power and prestige, and all the chaos that ensues as they take and teach their own apprentices. But I'm afraid I can't offer more than speculation. The rule seems insanity to me."

"Yes, it's hard to see why they would purposefully keep themselves on the brink of extinction."

"When you word it like that, it sounds like it might be purposefully designed with that in mind. To magnify the risk and challenge. The Sith's fight for survival is a fight for the survival of the philosophy as well as the Sith themselves. Because Sith philosophy is a strange and twisty thing that only occasionally resembles making any sense."

"I'll take your word for it. They never explained their philosophy to me; it was all 'Give into your rage, strike me down and your journey to the dark side will be complete'. I still don't understand how that works."

"... Telling you to kill them is an. Unorthodox example of Sith philosophy, I must say."

"Darn, I was really hoping you'd be able to shed some light on that. Ben sacrificed himself, but then he came back as a ghost. I don't know if they were expecting to do the same thing."

"It seems more likely they were expecting your efforts to fail. A Sith doesn't - agree to die."

She doesn't react to the part about the ghost. Occlus would probably want to collect him, but Occlus isn't here right now, and a potential ally is more useful than yet another Force ghost.

"That's probably more likely, yeah."

"I could see him lording over how you attacked an unarmed opponent with the intent to kill, and trying to use that to drag you down to a state where he could manipulate you, but. Dying in order to ultimately win the larger philosophical victory?" She snorts. "Yeah, no, I don't see it."

"What's your teacher like?"

"Pragmatic," says Callida, wryly, "is the major word I would use to describe her. She'd find declaring herself Empress of the galaxy rather tiresome."

"I'm beginning to feel the same way about rebuilding the Republic. Putting together a functional galactic government is surprisingly difficult, and I don't even hold a formal office."

"You're just the resident Jedi, kept around in case another megalomaniac shows up to menace the populace and for looking pretty at parties?"

"Only one in the galaxy, you know. I'm exotic."

She laughs.

"Of course you are."

Grin.

"And what were your teachers like? Aside from self sacrificing and inclined to be carried around."

"Ben was... For most of my life, I knew him as 'that crazy old man who lives off in the desert'. My uncle always said to stay away from him, but he was friendly enough when my friends and I would go out that way to race speeders. I really only got a few days with him before he died."

"I'm sorry."

"What a week that was. Artoo ran away the first night, got almost a hundred klicks before I caught up with him in the morning, then Sand People attacked, Ben saved me, gave me my father's lightsaber, stormtroopers killed Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and burned the farm looking for Artoo, we met Han, the Empire blew up Alderaan, I rescued a princess, Ben sacrificed himself so we could get away from Vader, I joined the Rebellion and destroyed the Death Star."

"And I thought my life occasionally got a bit dramatic. I hope things have calmed down since then?"

"No one week has been quite so intense."

"It is kind of hard to top that week, at the very least because... hold on. When you say blew up what do you mean? Carpet bombed it into oblivion, or...?"

"Completely obliterated. Pulverized into tiny little chunks."

Callida makes a quiet, drawn out sound of disappointment and pain. Tactical pain. Agony of the logical kind.

"Why would they do that," she says, plaintively.

"I have no idea."

"What purpose would blowing up a planet bring! Planets are useful! Whatever tactical achievements they wanted could have been gained through methods far less wasteful -" she shuts her mouth, letting her breath out in a hiss. She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, you're not the one to say this to. Idiots."

"And the death of a billion or so innocents."

"Well, yes, but I have sort of given up expecting Sith to care about people. We have large scale slavery and quietly overlooked genocide, and I guarantee that's killed more people across the galaxy than the populace of a planet, and made miserable the lives of countless more. I can however expect tactical decisions that resemble making sense."

"All right. As long as you don't give up on caring about people."

"Perhaps don't advertise it should you meet any other Sith in this bar, but..." She hesitates.

More quietly: "No. I haven't."

Smile. "Good."

She shrugs, a little awkwardly.

"It sort of bemuses my teacher, actually. She doesn't mind, precisely, but she thinks it's a weird quirk of mine."

"Better than her trying to stamp it out of you."

"She's pragmatic. It's easier to leave me to my own devices than to go through all the trouble of breaking and remaking my philosophy. Especially since we already get along, and trying to stamp anything out of me would neatly end that and lose her a loyal apprentice."

"You sound fond of her."

"I am," she says, smiling a little.

"Is she why you haven't left?"

"... Yes. But it's also not recommended for an apprentice of a Dark Councilor to quit, whether their teacher likes them personally or not. And where would I go?"

"You could come back with me."

She laughs, a little.

"Have such a glowing opinion of me already that you'd invite me home with you? I'm flattered."

"It sounds like you'd do better in a galaxy with fewer Sith."

"Probably. ... But no, I'm afraid not. It's tempting, but I have responsibilities, people that need me. Friends, strange as it might sound for a Sith. And I doubt I could uproot everything and everyone I'd want to bring."

"That's fair. Just thought I'd lay the offer on the table."

"Sure. Thank you, anyway. I'll - think about it. What's your galaxy like, aside from - slightly in shambles after a war?"

"Honestly, that's mostly what I know about it. I spent my childhood on a moisture farm on Tatooine, way out in the Outer Rim. Didn't know much about the wider galaxy until I left, and then I was mostly concerned with fighting against the Empire. They still haven't surrendered, but we've made enough progress to be able to say we're not the Rebellion anymore, we're the New Republic."

"Ah, so you'd be inviting me home with you to help handle a war," she teases.

"I think the phrase these days is 'mopping-up'."

"That is admittedly an improvement on the war in my year."

"What's going on with that?"

"Sith Empire versus the - I'm going to call it the Old Republic, with how you have a new one. Each has approximately half of the galaxy. There was an extended ceasefire, for a while, but it's since evaporated and now the two are trying to unite the galaxy by killing the ones who have the other half of it."

"...Maybe I should come help you, instead."

"I - appreciate the thought, but I'm not sure how much could be done. Both sides have a number of trained Force sensitives, and while I don't doubt your abilities, I'm... not certain you could face the Dark Council alone. Or that you'd want to help what is technically my side."

"Technicalities aside, my sense is that you're on the side that wants the killing to stop."

"It would be nice," she agrees, pretending levity. "Librarians, you know. We like our quiet. Killing's so loud."

"You're probably right, though. Not much just one person could do to shift the balance."

"Really, I think the balance already got shifted by one person. Our Emperor's dead, too. It's the Dark Council holding the Sith Empire together, now, and, well. Sith Lords aren't the most stable of people."

"The same Dark Council your teacher is part of?"

"Yes, but she's not the problem. If the Sith Empire collapsed tomorrow she'd be annoyed and concerned for the structure of her organization and the safety of her archives, but otherwise not really care. As long as no one breaks her things, she's inclined to ignore politics and policy. It's - everyone else that's the problem. The turnover rate for Dark Councilors is - shortening alarmingly, and the ones who are stable are not as benign as my teacher."

"Maybe you should convince her to take on a larger role in running the Empire."

Callida raises her eyebrows. Skeptically.

"Do you know what her reply would be? Because I can guess. Something along the lines of, 'if the interests of the Empire concern you so, why don't you deal with it.'"

"If she gave you the authority to back that up..."

"I think I'd want to be more assured that I could hold power before I try to seize it, otherwise I just make a bigger mess. I'm not against the idea, I just don't think I could survive for any longer than fifteen minutes if, say, Darth Marr wanted me dead. My teacher could give me authority, certainly, but I can't hide behind her forever."

"Republic politics is only figurative backstabbing. I guess that puts Fey'lya's antics into perspective..."

"Literal backstabbing is worse than the figurative kind, but neither is particularly fun. What does this Fey'lya do?"

"Oh, he's just always fiddling around with rules and procedures to make sure he's getting the best deal with everything regardless of larger concerns. I can't follow half of it, honestly."

"Charming. A grim bright side of Sith politics is that if anyone is too self serving and stupid, they will either be intimidated until they knock it off, or die when someone gets annoyed with them. Everyone is very motivated to think of the good of the Empire, unless they're Sith themselves."

"That doesn't sound like a very bright side."

"It really isn't."

"So what does the political structure look like?"

"There are two separate sections of the political structure. Non-Sith, and Sith. I have only a vague idea of the non-Sith structure, but as I understand it, it's highly militaristic and based heavily around loyal years of service and skill. Aside from that, I really couldn't say. I haven't gotten involved.

"Sith politics are - well. Deadly. Also somewhat bizarre. They are ostensibly above and in control of all non-Sith in Imperial society. The lowest Sith apprentice is," she grimaces, "above even seasoned and loyal citizens. The Dark Council has twelve members, each in charge of their own Sphere of influence. A section of government or specialization, if you will. Some of these Spheres are dare I say it, sane - the Sphere of Biotic Science, the Sphere of Production and Logistics, my own teacher's Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. Then there are the, ah. Less sane ones. Sith 'Philosophy,' whatever work that involves, an entire Sphere devoted to the vaguely named Mysteries, and no I don't know what it's about, and not one, not two, but three separate Spheres for the military. Offense, Defense, and Strategy. Presumably because if one Sith Lord was in charge of the army, they would go, 'And now I will use that to kill all of the other Sith.'"

"That sounds... almost logical."

"It does, but I find it immensely frustrating anyway."

"It'd probably work better if it wasn't run by Sith."

Sigh. "Probably. With Sith they sort of - they don't play well together. It feels less like three branches of the same military and more like three separate armies that only grudgingly don't kill each other."

"Sounds like the early days of the Rebel Alliance."

"It sounds like you solved it, though. The Sith - if anything, we're getting more and more fractured. None of us liked the Emperor, but he brought stability. Doesn't help that about a third of the Dark Council died at Corellia seven years ago, and most of the replacements haven't been very, ah. Stable."

"It would be a waste if you were dragged down with them."

"Persistent, aren't you."

"You deserve to live the life you want to live."

"Well, yes. But so does everyone. And, really, much as I'll complain about the Sith, I don't precisely mind being one."

"If you're sure."

"If I could fit everything I wanted to through the door... Maybe. I think I'm inclined to be a doorstop for an hour so Occlus can investigate this bar, too, so perhaps my answer will change. And at the very least, if there's any technology - medical especially, as I'll understand if you hesitate to relay other technology to a Sith Lord - that you'd like to impart from the future..." She smiles. "Well, I wouldn't say no."

"I think you'd put it to a good use."

"I absolutely would," she agrees, smiling brilliantly.

...He blushes a little. Then gets up and goes to the door. He opens it and pulls out his comlink.

"Artoo, can you pull down a copy of the latest Encyclopedia Technica and bring it up to my apartment? Yes, all the volumes. And, uh, better bring a reader too. Yes, I know you're helping with the X-wing but this is important. No, it's kind of a secret. You'll see when you get here."

Aw, he's cute when he blushes.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," she says, once he's done. "I think I'm going to go ask about the rules of how this place works while you doorstop for my benefit, if you don't mind. I can even get my free drink."

"Go ahead."

So she goes and gently interrogates Bar for how the place works, ending up with a stack of explanatory napkins and one pink drink with colorful bubbles and a tiny orange umbrella.

And eventually a blue and white astromech shows up and passes Luke a datapad, and beeps inquisitively about the bar where the floor plan indicates there should be a 'fresher. He does his best to alleviate the confusion and the droid eventually departs, with a somewhat skeptical squeak.

Callida listens with half an ear, reading the explanatory napkins and sipping her fabulous drink.

She thanks Bar politely for the drink and the conversation, and returns to her seat at the booth.

"Bar mentioned there's a translation effect in play, so if we actually leave Milliways we might stop being mutually intelligible. Also, there's a number of things I can buy from her directly, she doesn't just sell food and drinks. And she accepts all kinds of currency, and rents out rooms. Staff get rooms in exchange for doing various kinds of work - security, janitorial, there's even a med bay."

"Sounds useful if you wanted to stay a while."

"According to Bar, there's a whole multiverse, filled with strange people, stranger places, foreign technology, materials, and lifeforms, and different types of magic." She's smiling, again. "So I thought I'd take a job in security and stay for a while."

"Sounds exciting. Mind if I stick around too?"

"Not at all. Though you hardly need my permission, it's a public bar."

"You might want to discover the secrets of the multiverse without a Jedi looking over your shoulder."

"I will magnanimously tolerate your presence."

He offers the datapad.

"Here. All the technical secrets of the future, in one convenient tablet."

"Excellent, thank you," she says, smiling with all of the dignity of a woman who's spent her entire adult life as a Sith. "I'll see about reading and organizing it, and figuring out what to distribute where."

... Then her smile turns slightly goofy, and she cackles quietly into the datapad. She is very thrilled about having the technical secrets of the future in one convenient tablet.

"So what's first?"

"For me to do? I - should see about officially taking a security job so I can have lodgings assured before I dive into sorting through the information. And I'll need to be a doorstop at some point to get Gelrath in here for the medical technology, he could do more with it than I could, and if I'm going to be a doorstop I might as well get it over with and get everyone I can trust in here and - and I'm terribly sorry, I'm babbling."

"You don't need to apologize. I often find it helpful to think out loud." And it's very charming when you do it.

"Certainly, but if I keep it up I'm afraid I'll ruin your opinion of me. You'll never be able to intimidated by my presence again, and then what kind of Sith would I be?"

"The sensible kind, that's able to work with people she doesn't inspire mortal terror in."

Snort.

"Flatterer."

"Uh, I should probably arrange for a room too."

"Well, you can pay for it with whatever currency you have in the future, or become a member of the staff. Security's the obvious choice, unless you're practiced enough at healing with the Force?"

"Not as much as I'd like to be. Yoda was more focused on the martial aspects. I guess because of the Emperor."

"I can basically just shunt someone into a healing trance and hope for the best. Which isn't nothing, but I don't think I'd make a very good doctor."

"I... am not confident I could reliably do that for someone else."

"I couldn't with an unwilling subject or while under too much pressure. It's tricky, and if I were to screw it up..." She looks away. "Well, I understand your hesitation."

"I don't think I'd really be comfortable doing security either. Maybe I'll just finally use that stipend they're giving me for something."

"Sure, but time's paused outside Milliways and you'll still need to pay for food, so that might shorten the time you can spend here. You could wipe down tables for a room, instead, if the stipend's not very generous?"

"That's true. I'll do that."

She smiles a little.

"Does being a Jedi pay well? I get the impression it doesn't in my time, but you did kill a megalomaniac."

"I had a commission with the Alliance I only resigned a few months ago; I was drawing a salary from that. And there were some awards that came with money. And apparently some people donate to the Jedi as charity? I think that's kept separately from the rest. Leia recommended me some accountants to keep track of it all."

"So I probably don't have to have pity on you and pay for your stay in Milliways, is what I'm hearing."

He scratches the back of his head.

"Uh, no, not really. Probably the other way around, if anything."

"Luke. I'm the single apprentice of a Dark Councilor. One of the twelve people that rules over an Empire and therefore one of twelve people that the resources of an empire is funneled towards. She likes me, and I've proven to be financially responsible. It's been years since she decided to give me discretionary funds to do whatever I'd like with. They are not stingy. I could comfortably live here for decades."

"Oh yeah. That makes sense."

"But thank you for the thought."

"A thinker, that's me."

"Who's Leia?" wonders Callida.

"My sister. We were, uh, separated at birth. She grew up as the daughter of the Alderaanian queen and senator, not on moisture farm."

"Oh. All right. I'm glad you eventually found her?"

"She was actually the princess I rescued during Intense Week."

"Did you know she was your sister when you rescued her, or did you realize that after the intense week?"

"Not until four years later."

"Huh." She considers this. "That sounds like a mess, really. I wouldn't know what to do with a family member that just - showed up in my life and then turned out to be related to me."

"By the time it came out we had already established a pretty good relationship working together with the Alliance. It just sort of added on to that."

Callida nods.

"I don't think I have any secret siblings, unless my mother had them before - before I was in a state to take notice of how many siblings I had. I suppose my father could dramatically reveal himself at some point, but." She makes a face. "I think I'd rather pass. I'm glad your dramatic familial reveal worked out for you."

"So am I."

She smiles a little.

You can ask, if you're curious, she doesn't manage to say. Flippancy with her own grim history is one thing, actually explaining it is another.

"So. Moisture farming. What's that like?"

"Dry."

"So much so that it spread to your humor, I see," she says, lightly.

"Once the suns went down, it got too dark to hunt womp rats. Had to amuse ourselves somehow."

"I'm honestly having trouble picturing you as a moisture farmer."

"Well, I didn't dress as snappily back then."

Snort.

"No, I imagine not, but it's not the clothes. I am not so bereft of imagination that I can't imagine you in something less snappy, but it's - you do not have the look of a farmer, to me."

"What do you mean?"

"The way you carry yourself. Like you have the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, and the strength to carry it. ... Proverbial strength, though I'd be impressed if you could figure out how to literally carry a planet."

"I guess I had to do a lot of growing up very quickly. Didn't get a lot choice about the responsibilities I was given, but it was either pick them up or get crushed beneath them."

"You seem like you did all right."

"So far, anyway."

"You have friends and family that can listen to you when you need to talk, and help you when you need it. You now have the resources of the multiverse at your disposal, and time outside is paused to give you time to think and rest. You can ask for all of the written works of history from Bar for whatever perspectives you want, and you can feel free to speak to me whenever you like. You're intelligent, thoughtful, resourceful, powerful, and have good instincts. There will always be a 'so far,' always be a chance of future failure, but I think you have a greater chance of future success."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome. I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it."

Oh shoot now he's blushing again.

Awwwwww.

Her attempts to flirt with him seem to have been too subtle for him to really catch, but she doesn't think she wants to try being more overt. That just risks making a fool of herself, and to be honest she'd rather not. He's cute, she likes subtly flirting with him and seeing him blush adorably, she doesn't want to try to push things any farther than where they are now. Maybe later.

But she can smile at him. Because he is very cute.

He coughs awkwardly. "I'm, uh, gonna- go talk to Bar."

"All right," she agrees, easily. "I think I saw a comfortable couch and quaint fireplace somewhere, I'll be reading this," she holds up the tablet, smile irrepressible, "over there if you need me."

He goes over to the bar and arranges for a room and a job, taking longer than is perhaps strictly necessary. Then wanders over to where Callida is reading.

She's curled up in an armchair, engrossed in the datapad. At some point she toed off her boots.

She glances up when he wanders over.

"Hey. Not too much trouble to get a room and job set up?"

"It was pretty smooth."

"Good! Because now it's my turn. Excuse me."

Up she gets, to go arrange for her own room and job, leaving her boots where they're neatly set next to the chair.

He sits in another chair and studies the fireplace with interest.

She arranges her own room and joins the staff.

"Is fire really that interesting?" she teases, when she returns.

"Well, most of the time is just a heat panel or something. It's not often you see a real wood-burning fireplace in a building."

"No, usually it's fire pits if fire's involved at all. The technological equivalent of feast or famine, perhaps. Heating things with technology's so much easier. Though I think Darth Vowrawn has a fireplace, actually."

"Who's Darth Vowrawn?"

"Dark Councilor of Production and Logistics. I've met him, he's, uh. One of the better Councilors, as they go, but a bit crazier than I'd like. He's competent at his job and great with numbers, and also sort of - he takes great personal enjoyment from being Sith."

"Ah."

"Anyway. I like the fireplace, too, it's sort of rustically charming."

"Yeah. Nice counterpoint to the window view."

"It is," she agrees, picking up her datapad and returning to her seat. She smiles at Luke.

"Any preference on when I take up the profession of 'doorstop' and invite my teacher in here? I would understand if you'd rather not face another Sith Lord for a while. Or even never."

"Before you, it'd actually been a few years. As long as you think she wouldn't object to my presence here, I don't mind."

"I don't see her objecting unless you actively go out of your way to annoy her. At worst she'd tell you to go away, or call me in to mediate so she stops having to deal with you. She might give me some cryptic looks, but you'll be fine."

"That'd be downright reasonable of her."

"She's very reasonable," says Callida, smiling a little. "I don't know if she'll like you, but she doesn't really need to like people to be able to work with them."

"Up to you when you want to bring her in, then."

Smile.

"I think I'll want to make an itemized list of how this place works to hand to her as she walks in," she says, mostly to herself. "Which I can do while I'm a doorstop, can't I, it won't even take long to do. All right, doorstop time. Keep me company so I don't get too bored?"

"Of course."

Over to the door?

To the door! (After putting her boots back on.)

She sits where the door will not slide shut on its own, and retrieves her comlink.

"Doctor Gelrath," she says into it, "please report to my ship at your earliest convenience, something unexpected's come up that looks like it might require your analysis."

"Is it important?" comes the plaintive voice from the other side.

Callida rolls her eyes. "Yes."

The voice on the other end huffs a slightly unprofessional, "Fine."

"Thank you," says Callida, dryly.

"I take it he's acquainted with you."

"Oh, yes. He's been my ship's doctor for..." she stops and thinks. "Two and a half years, or so. He likes working for me, he's just annoyed at being interrupted while he was... I forget what he was doing. He will doubtlessly explain it to you in excruciating detail if you want to know."

"Will he be annoyed if the technicalities go over my head?"

"From experience, no."

"Good to know."

Smile.

A brunette pokes her head around the corner. Her eyes widen, and she nearly flinches back around the corner again.

"I heard voices - um?" she begins, then stops. "Um. Is this another cereal incident, because I can just turn around and pretend I didn't see anything -"

"It is not," says Callida. "Luke, this is Lieutenant Deenia, my pilot. Deenia, this is Luke Skywalker."

"Uh. Hi?"

"Hello, Lieutenant." He smiles disarmingly.

Deenia doesn't know what to do with this. She looks at Callida, then Luke, then back to Callida.

"Um. I can so turn around and pretend I didn't see anything if you revised your policy on - on, um." She scrutinizes Callida's inscrutable expression and promptly shuts up. "You know what, never mind, better question, how weird is the weird here."

Callida considers. "Very?"

Deenia makes a squeaky sound of dismay.

"Good weird?" offers the Sith Lord.

Deenia repeats the sound of dismay, this time lengthening it by another two seconds.

"You have my permission to hide in the cockpit and pretend nothing weird is going on, I will come get you if there's anything you're going to want to know."

"Okaycoolthanksnicemeetingyoubye!" says a rapidly disappearing brunette.

"Nice to meet you too!" he calls.

Callida fails to disguise her smile.

"She'll calm down soon enough," she assures. "She just needs a little while to play holo games on her console to get used to the idea of everything suddenly being very weird."

"Not the worst coping mechanism I've heard of."

"Not at all. She's ended up training herself some impressive reflexes, even. Part of the reason why I hired her."

"I usually do my own flying. Just a starfighter, though."

"Really? I never had the time to learn. Or, if I'm honest, the inclination."

She starts typing out an explanation of Milliways onto a datapad, for handing-over-to-Occlus purposes.

"Flying was what we did for fun. My friends and I used to race through Beggar's Canyon in our T-16s."

"That sounds nice," says Callida, smiling a little. "Flying, shooting local wildlife, and sharpening your wit. I don't think my childhood was quite so educational. I learned some basic repair work?"

Why did she bring up her childhood. Her childhood is terrible. Noooo.

"Sometimes we would shoot wildlife while flying. And then make jokes about it."

"Aha. And multitasking. Will wonders never cease."

"The galaxy would get sort of boring if they ever did."

"It would, wouldn't it. Luckily for us, there's no chance of that."

"Actually, it's sort of a wonder we never killed ourselves doing that. There was one section we used to fly that had about a meter of clearance."

"Charming. Congratulations to you all for making it to adulthood. It does speak well for your skills, though."

"The experience came in handy for destroying the Death Star. Had to fly down a maintenance trench and drop a torpedo down a thermal exhaust port."

She envisions this.

".... Yes, that sounds - let's go with tricky. And it's probably harder than I am estimating it to be."

"Hitting a two-meter target dead on, while going around a thousand kilometers an hour and dodging enemy fire? Yeah, not simple."

"... And it sounds like you weren't used to the ship, either, since this was in the intense week and you'd only had experience flying on Tatooine."

She's sort of looking at him like he's edible. Maybe he might find this awkward.

"Well, the T-16 was Incom's civilian training model for the T-65, so I was sort of used to the controls..." he trails off a little awkwardly.

"Does flying in zero gravity without atmosphere work the same as flying on a planet in atmosphere?" she wonders, innocently. "And did the controls have all of the same quirks you need to learn to get really good with them?"

"Well, uh, no..."

He is not sure what that look means.

That look means she thinks that pulling that off is kind of hot.

But he doesn't seem to be enjoying the attention, so she smiles at him and turns back to her datapad to continue typing.

"Did the Death Star even do anything besides have a stereotypical name and commit pointless acts of destruction?" she asks.

"That's about it, so far as I know. It wasn't online very long before we blew it up."

"Good. And excellent job for the proto New Republic. I'm guessing the large ridiculous wasteful superweapon helped unite everyone against the Empire?"

"Good guess."

"It's almost like people don't want to have a planet destroying superweapon flying around! What a surprise."

"Seems like it was for the Empire, at least."

"Well, they're idiots. You can tell by how they made a planet destroying superweapon."

Giggle.

"And destroying Alderaan of all places with it - it's just - it's such a waste and such a tactical blunder rolled together into this awful unique combination of moral and intellectual bankruptcy. It is amazing the whole system didn't collapse under its own idiocy on its own, no rebellion even required."

"I think the choice of Alderaan specifically was because of Leia. She was the princess of Alderaan, and they were trying to induce her to give up the Rebels' location."

"Okay. Let me respond to that with a question. Did that work?"

"No."

"No. Of course it didn't. Because, funnily enough, destroying everything someone loves except the thing you want her to betray to you is, you know, not a smart plan. Neither is giving her a very good reason to be as spiteful as possible towards your organization."

"Is this another 'if you can't get ethics, try for competence' thing?"

"Yes! Yes it is! I would prefer both but I can sort of understand immoral competence! Immoral incompetence is just. Augh."

Her reaction is sort of adorable.

"Imbeciles," she huffs. "Even worse, Alderaan was a part of the Empire, right? So they demonstrated to their subjects that they definitely would blow up their own people. With a lot of innocent casualties, you are not safe even if you are a good Imperial subject. There are just so very many things wrong with it and if I had a perfectly nice Empire I would at a minimum not blow my own people up! Absolute minimum! It's not very hard to not blow up a planet!"

"But what if you had this massive battlestation you'd just spent twenty years and billions of credits constructing?"

"Why would I ever waste resources on such a useless - I'd set it up on some kind of border system that was dealing with some kind of problem with pirates or the like, and have it be very scary at the pirates while quietly helping to boost the economy of the system, so it can eventually have the infrastructure to handle the problem on its own. Or something else, depending on what was going on in the Empire."

"I think I might not feel so bad about an Empire you were in charge of."

"Well, I'd certainly hope not, I'd want people to like being part of an Empire I was in charge of, or at least obviously benefit from it even if they complain at me about it a lot. Otherwise, why am I even in charge of it."

"The sheer rush of power, near as I can tell."

"'Through power I gain victory.' It's a means to an end, not the end itself."

"Is that a quote from something?"

"Oh, ah. Somewhat awkwardly, the Sith Code. I don't agree with all of it, precisely, but - it's, it's complicated." Sigh.

"Complicated in a way you want to talk about, or not?"

She considers him. Then, quietly:

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken." Then, even more softly: "The Force shall free me."

She looks away. "I don't really interpret it the way other Sith seem to, but as codes go it's not the - the worst ever."

"Do you want a hug?"

She - doesn't know what to do with this. For a few seconds, she flounders in indecision. She hasn't been hugged in years.

"... yeah okay."

He moves over and hugs her. Gently.

Callida sort of doesn't know what to do with her arms. She tentatively hugs him back? That seems like the correct thing to do. And leaning into him, that seems to be okay too. Right?

That's fine. He'll just be here and solid and calm and reassuring.

Well that's very nice of him, and she'll just relax into this hug and let him keep being all of those things that he's being.

Someone pokes her head around the corner.

Lieutenant Deenia raises her eyebrows slightly, making an expression that accurately relays the concept of What????

Luke smiles at her and nudges Callida on the shoulder.

Callida winces slightly, and disentangles from the hug.

"... Yes, Deenia?" she says, picking up her dignity and putting it right back on as if it is the most natural thing in the world for a Sith Lord to hug a Jedi.

"Yeah, I didn't see any of that," declares the lieutenant. She edges past the corner, eyeing Luke like he might secretly be a rancor crammed into a human-shaped chassis. As if it's her last line of defense, she - attempts a smile. It is smile shaped. If you squint.

The reason why becomes apparent when she holds up a mug to Callida. It contains hot chocolate.

"... Thank you," says Callida, blinking and taking the offering.

"You had that, uh. Righteous yelly thing. Going on. It was echoing. So." Awkward shrug. Deenia eyes the bar behind Callida and Luke. "Yeah wow that is very weird."

"It is, yes."

"Iiiiiii am going to go now, okay? Okay." She waves, awkwardly, to Luke.

He waves back.

And away goes Lieutenant Deenia, like a skittish prey animal.

Callida sips the newly bestowed hot chocolate, looking faintly amused.

"Nervous sort, isn't she?"

"A bit, yes."

"She didn't run away so quickly this time. Maybe I'm making progress."

Callida laughs.

"Eventually maybe you can even hold a conversation with her!"

"I await the day with bated breath."

"If you'd like, I can arrange for you to have confetti and a party hat, to celebrate. When that day comes."

"Confetti and a party hat! These must be the material temptations of the dark side Yoda warned me about."

"They definitely are, and you should absolutely be on your guard. I might break out," she lowers her voice to a whisper, "streamers."

"Let's not get too crazy. We wouldn't want overwhelm the poor Lieutenant again."

"Ah, yes. Streamers are certainly ranked up there with strange Jedi on the ship and strange bars in the cargo hold. I forget."

"Would it help if I stayed technically-not-on the ship?"

"I expect it won't, but you're free to try it."

"I wouldn't want her to feel like she can't move around freely."

Callida smiles at him.

"She's okay. She's not precisely afraid of you anymore, she just - she has her element, and she is very, very good at it. Then if you give her anything that is not that element, she doesn't know what to do with it and flees, because it's strange and confusing and she doesn't like not knowing what to do." Pause. "Also she trusts that if you were a threat I would handle it. So there's that."

"That's good to know. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She sips her hot chocolate.

"What're you drinking?"

"It's this weird exotic drink I turned out to like, called hot chocolate. I'd offer to go get you a cup, but I'm currently being a doorstop, so. You can probably get it from Bar if you're curious."

"I think I will." He goes to procure some.

"This is quite good."

"Isn't it? I don't know why people don't drink it more often."

"Probably only because they've never heard of it."

"Probably."

Sip sip sip hot chocolate.

Callida sips her own hot chocolate, too, and types at her datapad. Her list of Milliways information is coming along nicely.

... She sort of wants to be hugging Luke again. Not that she's going to bring this up.

The hug was nice, but he doesn't want to push her if she doesn't want to be pushed. He'll just be right here, sipping chocolate and being eminently huggable.

Yeah, she doesn't really have much experience initiating physical affection of any kind, so. She'll just finish this list up.

They'll be like that for a while unless he decides to start a conversation.

"So where'd you meet the Lieutenant?"

"I'd recently earned Lord status, and Occlus decided to give me my own ship. At the time I wasn't, ah, in much of a mood to try and learn how to fly it, so I started looking for a pilot. I got a list of who was working for Occlus that could be safely moved - not just pilots, I also hired Gelrath and an engineer during this - and I got to looking. Deenia was stationed on some backwards out of the way station on - I think it was Eriadu, piloting freighters. I noticed her qualifications, and how she was kind of being wasted on freighter transport, and I invited her to work for me. I think she just wanted to fly my ship, and get away from her boring job."

"You don't like wasted potential, do you?"

"It's sort of a personal nemesis of mine." On account of how it almost got her. If she hadn't have been Force sensitive... "I thwart it where I can."

"You're doing a good job of it."

Smile.

"Thanks. I try."

He smiles back.

He has a lovely smile, and she doesn't even want to kiss it, she just wants him to hold her again, it was so nice...

"Doctor Gelrath wasn't so much wasted potential, he had a perfectly nice job that I stole him from. With bribery." Smirk.

"What sort of bribery?"

"I promised him better equipment, more mobility throughout the galaxy, and access to some archival data that most people aren't allowed to see. Also better hours and more freedom. ... And better pay."

"As bribes go, that one sounds pretty nice."

"I take my bribery seriously. When I bribe, I aim to win."

"Is there anything you don't aim to win at?"

"I haven't started trying to become a pilot or something! If I were aiming to win at everything, I'd have more hobbies."

"So it's just a matter of time, then? I should start logging more hours in my X-wing."

She laughs.

"I didn't say that. Your pilot status is safe from me." Fond smile.

"I just - if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it right. So this ends up as aiming to win most things that I do."

"I can understand that. Wanting to do things right."

"Yeah. ... Also, Sith. I don't know if you've noticed, but we don't really do things halfway, as a rule. It's all or nothing. Even if the all is really stupid superweapons - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just really annoying."

"You know, I think I actually forgot to tell you the other half of that story."

"Other half?

"They built a second Death Star. After the first was destroyed."

Callida takes a long, passive aggressive swig of hot chocolate.

After she has done this, she says, "Of course they did. How long did this one last."

"It was a few years before we found where it was under construction."

"Okay but once you found it, how long did it take for you to blow it up."

"Maybe a month."

"Ah huh. Do you know what I call that, Luke? An unsound investment. Also known as fucking idiotic."

Yeah, that's exactly what he was expecting.

"Please tell me it did not have time to get its planet explosion abilities up and running before you blew it up."