"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.