"Live and let live, is that your philosophy?"

"The galaxy will run more smoothly if everyone stays out of my way."

"You have no other interests you wish to protect?"

"All Sith lore, known and unknown, is my domain. That is the extent and total of my interests."

"I see. We may be able to reach an agreement, but I must confer with the Council. It is my hope that this will resolve to our mutual satisfaction."

Occlus smiles, cold and barbed. "Indeed."

And she stands and flicks out with a tendril of Force.

And here they both are in the waiting room infirmary, randomly placed but well out of lightsaber's reach of each other. A man in a faded and travel-worn but scrupulously cared for robe sits at the desk between them and the exit, currently facing away; the quarterstaff and backpack leaning against the wall by the desk presumably belong to him. The kobold is present, but not immediately visible from her spot on the man's lap.

Satele's reflexes are good enough that she doesn't fall over when the chair disappears suddenly beneath her.

Occlus walks towards the door. When the kobold comes into view, she says, "Come find me when the Grandmaster is ready to talk again."

"I will," says the kobold.

The man waits for Occlus to be gone, and then swivels the chair to face Satele. "So, another friend of the little portalmaker, I understand?" he grins warmly. "Raafi of Tales, at your service." He's every bit as weatherbeaten and travel-worn as his robe, with a straight scar along his left cheek and another on his right forearm, wavy brown hair, and green eyes. His outfit under the robe is simple dusty-brown linen, with no adornments but a plain wooden disc with a stylized sunrise carved into it worn on a simple cord around his neck. He's friendly and relaxed, not paying any particular attention to the kobold, who is still on his lap with her left hand resting on his.

"Satele Shan. It is a pleasure to meet you, Raafi of Tales."

His grin widens. "And to meet you, I'm sure. This one has excellent taste." He indicates the kobold. "But, the tale I have heard today is that your, respected enemy, cannot be trusted against subterfuge, and therefore a test against poison is warranted?"

"Please."

He nods, and begins chanting, moving his free hand through a complicated series of motions in time with his words. After a few seconds, he has his results.

Satele has not been poisoned.

An inquisitive expression crosses her face when he starts chanting, but she doesn't interrupt.

"Different magic again," says the kobold as her friend finishes chanting.

Raafi nods. "I am a devotee of Fharlanghn, god of roads; he enables me to provide various services that may be useful to one far from home." He touches his pendant as he speaks. "Your tale today is one of health, Ms. Shan."

"That is good to hear, Raafi. Thank you."

"You are entirely welcome; I look forward to learning the end of this tale," he grins again, and then looks thoughtful. "Though... I wonder if I might instead be called to smooth her path, and by extension yours as well; it certainly seems that it has been more treacherous than any that Fharlanghn would condone."

"What would the nature of this 'smoothing' be?"

"One of the workings that I am on occasion granted is the ability to offer a choice, between continuing on the path that one's life has presented, or starting afresh. Any burden of repentance required of this choice is transferred to me, to be repaid as I am able. It is not a working to be undertaken lightly, and I cannot offer her a new path if she is to be harried down it, but in the right circumstances, such an offer can have quite dramatic results."

"I did not get the impression that she is troubled by the path her life has taken. But if our kobold friend can arrange it, I would not stop you from offering it to her."

Raafi nods. "Would it smooth her path, if she were to choose as you prefer?"

"It would make it much easier for us to trust her, and remove that source of conflict. As to other challenges she may be facing, I do not know. Given what is typical for Sith politics, I suspect not."

Raafi nods again. "I will have to see what Fharlanghn requests of me. It will certainly make for an interesting story, in either case," he grins.

"Not usually the criterion upon which I base my actions, but I suppose it must work for you."