Chapter 31: Chapter 28: Apprentices
It said a lot about the current state of my life that I only did a mental shrug before sheathing my weapon and sitting down. Of course, I did a cursory scan of the cushion for a poisoned spike first, but that was just a reasonable precaution. I was only half-surprised at the absence of one.
Ragate hadn't actually tried to kill me. Sure, I would have died if any of her hits had landed since she was using a lightsaber, but they had been predictable. Half-hearted. If I hadn't been able to defend myself from any of them and respond in kind, I don't think I would have given me the time of day either.
The lightning, however, had been a fluke, though a welcome one. One that I would be thoroughly investigating at first opportunity. This damn sword had been keeping too many secrets.
It rattled slightly in its sheathe.
Yeah, you heard me.
I stayed quiet as Ragate retrieved a tea pot and a pair of cups, though I kept a wary eye on what went into them. From the smirk on the old woman's face, she was well aware that I was watching, though she said nothing as she went about preparing the tea.
My rule about old Sith still applied, even to an Overseer. Perhaps even more so because she was an Overseer. If she survived long enough to get to old age, she was someone to watch out for.
Especially as she dealt with ambitious young Sith that had yet to understand concepts like "impulse control" or "patience" on a near daily basis.
It was literally her job to stoke the darker emotions of her charges into the infernos that would power them for the rest of their lives. That she had apparently survived decades in this role…
Only when she set the steaming cup in front of me and stepped out of arms' reach did I allow my gaze to wander slightly, scanning the room. Unlike Iren's spartan office, Ragate was no stranger to opulence and her office looked like it wouldn't have been out of place in an old Victorian mansion.
Soft yellow lights illuminated the room, showing a blood-red and gold carpet beneath our feet and several bookcases full of musty tomes. There were a few paintings on the walls depicting people and places I didn't recognize.
Now if only the decorations weren't made up of the Sith sculptures scattered around and the perfectly-preserved Shyrack Broodmother dangling from the ceiling...
Wait.
I looked up again and blinked, my brow furrowing slightly. Oh right. Ragate's more than a little…No. No puns. Besides, it was too easy.
The Overseer followed my gaze. Upon realizing what I was looking at, she smiled and gave a wistful sigh, "Ah, dear Sorzus. After the Empire retook Korriban, she was the first broodmother that I tamed. All of my current children were born from her daughters."
Somehow, I doubted that Sorzus Syn would have approved of having a shyrack named after her. But I wasn't going to say that to Ragate. That said, I could see the connection.
Ajunta Pall may have been the first to claim the mantle of Lord of the Sith, but Syn was the one who made the Sith into what they were now. So in that, she could be seen as the mother of the Sith. A pity that the Sith lost her journal during the aftermath of the Great Hyperspace War.
Among all her feats, such as creating the first Sith War Beasts, she genetically engineered the entire Sith species to be capable of interbreeding with humans. That made her the reason that the species survived in exile under Vitiate, though obviously as half-breeds.
By extension, she also enabled Vitiate's existence in the first place, given that his father was a Sith Pureblood.
Suffice it to say, her personal account would be a fascinating read, even though I disagreed with the Code she wrote.
"She's certainly an impressive specimen," I commented idly as I picked up my cup and the dish it was sitting on, though I didn't drink from it immediately, "I can't say I've encountered a broodmother. I managed to stumble across a shyrack cave about three months ago, though none of them were her size."
"You must have found a young colony, then," Ragate nodded sagely, "Their broodmother was not full grown and likely indistinguishable from the rest."
I glanced up at the stuffed and mounted beast. I could probably have used it as a mount.
Hm. Ideas…No! Bad Sith! Save it for when I find a Drexl beast!
The Overseer raised her cup to her lips and took a sip. I did likewise, though I quickly coughed at just how bitter it was.
"The tea grown on Dromund Kaas is not for everyone. Some find it a trifle too potent to be relaxing. With my age, I find it just strong enough for my failing taste buds," Ragate remarked with a small smile on her lips before taking another sip.
"I do not drink it often, as I have to have it imported." She reached down behind her desk and retrieved a small tray, "Would you prefer sugar, milk, or honey?"
I wondered if this counted as "evil tea." Either way, I prepared to flush potential toxins from my body.
"Honey, please," I replied, reaching a hand out as she passed the small container to me.
I scooped out what I approximated to be a teaspoon and a half and gently stirred it into my drink.
"My my, have a bit of a sweet-tooth, do we?" She chuckled.
"Just when it comes to tea and caf, milady," I responded, leaning back into my chair after replacing the honey container on the desk.
"Milady! Hah!," Ragate laughed daintily, "Such manners towards an old woman. And they say that the next generation is not respectful towards their elders."
"They do when their lives are potentially on the line," I quipped. I took a sip. Ah, just right, "Being rude has too many downsides. I usually make it a point to be polite whenever possible. It costs me nothing and can gain me everything."
"Ah, clever, cautious child. If your face matched your words, you might just come across as charming," She retorted, gesturing towards my scars and cybernetics, "Still, you have indulged me long enough and I suppose we should get to the reason I called you here."
"I wasn't going to press…"
"Bah, enough!" She waved off the politeness, "As I said in the message, we have several mutual acquaintances. Lord Spindrall and Lord Renning."
The cup in my hand paused on its way to my lips. Troubling. I took a sip.
Glancing up again, "Am I wrong in suspecting that your relationship with Renning was due to your…shared interests?"
"Indeed," Ragate confirmed, "We were close during our days in the academy on Dromund Kaas, long before the establishment of this facility."
My face scrunched up before I could control it. That was not a mental image I needed.
The Overseer chortled in that way that only old women seem to be able to, "Oh no, not like that. We were merely colleagues and, dare I say, friends. I must say, I was quite surprised to hear that he had been murdered so recently after taking on a promising student."
"Accident," I corrected, "One of his beasts managed to get him."
The smile on her face never left, "Oh, of course. Silly me. Still, even if it were not the case, he would have deserved it. Our friendship soured considerably after he murdered my second husband over some research."
I raised an eyebrow. Imagining Renning assassinating anybody…
"My former husband was a cheat, both as an academic and a husband," Ragate continued, "That I was going to kill him anyways didn't matter. A word of advice: thoroughly vet your potential spouse's background before the proposal."
She ended the statement with a nonchalant shrug.
"...I'll take that into consideration," I cleared my throat, "And…Lord Spindrall?"
"My old Master," Ragate explained, "He may have gone a bit mad in his old age, but he still has useful things to say now and then. Particularly when he suggests keeping an eye on a certain acolyte."
Pot calling the kettle black there, but that wasn't what had me worried. What I was wondering was how much Spindrall told her, on top of wondering how much he knew.
Also, how old did that make Spindrall? Ragate wasn't exactly a spring chicken.
"Masters usually pick apprentices based off two categories: raw power or talents that compliment their own," She stated, ticking off her fingers as she spoke, "Like myself, Lord Spindrall had a talent for precognition. He used to administer the Rite of Blood and Bone before passing that duty on to me."
"The Rite of Blood and Bone?" I asked. I knew what it was, but it would keep her talking for a little while longer while I try to figure out why I was here.
"It is a traditional ritual performed by young Sith. In the past, it was required for apprentices to participate before becoming Lords in truth," Ragate sighed, "Now, many dismiss it as superstitious nonsense. Nevertheless, some still attempt it, seeking signs of power or portents of doom in the blood and violence."
"Would I be able to attempt it?" If nothing else, it might provide some clues I wouldn't get on my own. Idly, I wondered if the Rite was actually a ritual of Sith Magic, utilizing the sacrifice of blood and toil to force open a small gateway to the future. Just enough to take a peek.
The old woman stared at me without speaking for a few minutes. When she did, her words were slow and slightly jumbled, "No. No, no. Not yet. I sense…yes. You will, I am certain of that. But not at this time."
I must have frowned, as she continued, "However, I can assure you that it will take place before your third trial."
That could be anywhere between now and three years from now, depending on Iren. Did she just call me here for that?
"In the meantime, there are other matters to take care of," She transitioned, "You are hunting once again, but your prey avoids your webs."
I didn't bother denying it this time, "Yes."
Ragate smiled at the honestly, "Ideally, Overseers are not supposed to favor one of their charges over another, something dear Iren takes quite seriously. However, as you are not one of my charges, I can do what I please. And I am not Iren."
I perked up.
"Your prey hides in cracks and crevices that even you have not yet found," She finished the last of her tea before setting the cup down on the desk, "To find them, look at the academy. Look at it as it is…and what it once was. You will find your answers there."
Suitably cryptic, as expected. But I got the point.
"If you are finished with your tea, there is little else to discuss, I'm afraid."
A glance down at my cup told me that I had, in fact, drained it at some point. I set the cup and dish up on the desk before standing up and bowing respectfully, "Thank you, Overseer. For the advice and the tea, both."
"Do not thank me yet, child," Ragate admonished, "The future may be seen, but it is not set in stone and may yet change. Survive, and then we shall speak again."
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