The boy's parents peek through a viewhole.

It slams shut. They have a very fast, somewhat quiet argument.

The door opens. "C-Can we help you?" Asks the woman.

The Sith nods, politely but no less intimidating. "Your son; he's force sensitive. Bring him here." A directive, more than a command, and not unkindly delivered, but there's no question that she expects to be obeyed.

"-But the solder-"

"Now."

Here is the boy. He looks at the local bogeyman, glances at the droid. Turmoil.

"Hello." Gentler is still not gentle. "What's your name?"

He takes a deep breath. Centering himself. Lots of fear, but determination. "Nicholas Granmill."

"Nicholas. All right. I noticed that you're force sensitive, Nicholas; do you know what that means?"

"I - might have to turn into a Sith when people find out."

She nods. "You ought to be trained, and if any other Sith find you you might be taken to Korriban. But you're not old enough yet; you can stay here for another few years if that's what you'd like to do."

"I want-" He growls in frustration. "I wanted a ship. I wanted to have one and be able to go places I want. It'll be harder now." His parents are frozen stiff, though this is not really a surprise to them. His father in particular emits 'dissapointed anger'.

This gets a subtle grin. "Harder in some ways but easier in others; being a Sith is about having what you want."

He doesn't respond.

That's fine. "When you're ready, Daisy will bring you out - no later than the month of your fourteenth birthday; thirteen is more traditional. She's in town the first weekend of every month, you shouldn't have any trouble finding her."

Then the Sith turns her attention back to the boy's parents. "He's to be treated well;" there's a growling undertone to her voice, "I'm sure you're aware what happens when people mistreat my things. If there's anything you need to make that happen, bring it up with my droid and we'll see to it. Understood?"

"...Understood. We are not particularly well off. But, understood."

"I want to know more. What's involved in training. If I can visit."

"You'll be able to visit," she nods. "Not necessarily very often, but at least a few times a year. Training will depend on what you want to specialize in, but meditation, saber forms, and the basic force techniques are standard no matter what else you choose to learn."

"...How long does training take?" He's considering trying to run.

"Most people are competent at the basics within a year. But the more you learn while you're under a master's protection, the better equipped you'll be to defend yourself when other Sith notice you."

He was trying to ask how intense and difficult it would be, actually, but is kind of too afraid to actually ask that.

"I'll think about it. Before fourteen. I'm ten."

Dusk nods. "All right. If you have any other questions, Daisy can bring notes, too."

He nods rapidly.

Maybe when the terrifying boogeywoman isn't right in front of him and he's had time to think about things.

Entirely understandable.

She looks back to his parents - any questions?

No ma'am not at all ma'am.

The Sith nods, and she and the droid take their leave.

The following month, the droid arrives in town with a trailer full of machinery and art, just as usual.

The boy who always avoided the curious droid before, seeks it out.

"...Hello. You're Daisy, right? No other designation?"

"DZ-12Q," she recites automatically. "But I go by Daisy, yes."

Nod, nod. "If it's not troublesome, I have a note with some questions for your..." He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't actually know.