The Emperor of Barrayar is not much to write home about at first glance. He's dressed in a local formal style, but even an untrained eye can detect that he went for 'sober and unassuming' over any other stylistic consideration. He wears no crown, no jewels, no symbols of power. And yet the power is there. Like grooves worn in a road by the ceaseless tread of heavy wheels, the fact that this man's breath is law shows in his eyes.

He looks up and nods to both of them as they enter the room. "Cordelia," he says, and, "Lord Callida. A pleasure to meet you. I've heard good things."

A hint of her earlier smile tugs at her lips, and she bows politely.

"Emperor. A pleasure to meet you, too. And - likewise."

"I spoke with Miles briefly and he says he's very sorry he couldn't make it," says Gregor. "He's delighted with you for saving him months of recovery time, although I gather he wishes he could have spent another week convalescing and thereby escaped writing all these reports."

"I'll be sure to apologize to him for the alacrity," says Callida, deadpan.

At that, he actually smiles.

Cordelia looks pleased.

"He still maintains that you're his favourite Sith Lord," she contributes. "When Aral heard that one, he laughed and said 'Mine too, for that matter'."

Callida snorts a little.

"If I weren't, I'd wonder where he found another."

"He did not seem very impressed with your predecessor."

"He wasn't particularly impressive," says Callida, disdainfully. "Impressed with himself, perhaps."

"It's an immense relief to me that I don't have to deal with him," says Gregor.

"Yes. Though, to be fair, I doubt you would have had to deal with him for particularly long. But I'm more than happy to spare you the trouble of the cleanup."

"Yes, I much prefer things your way."

"I despise mayhem. Comes with being the apprentice to the Head of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. The archives are a pain to navigate if they're not orderly."

"The Sphere of Ancient Knowledge?"

"Under the Sith Emperor, there are twelve Dark Councilors," she silently apologizes for the stupid name, "each in charge of a specific Sphere of Influence. Darth Occlus is in charge of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge - history, recordkeeping, ancient artifacts, the like. Typically my duties are more in line with archaeology than fleet administration and diplomacy."

"You seem to be adapting to the change with admirable grace. It's clear that your people respect you and value your leadership."

"Thank you," she says, smiling a little. "It's not entirely new - I do have some administrative experience, merely of a kind typically suited for excavation. But I do apologize for any diplomatic blunders, I have no such background with being an emissary of the Sith Empire."

That last part was said incredibly dryly.

"No complaints so far."

"Excellent, I'm pleased to hear it."

He smiles slightly, and starts in on his dinner at last. It's a pretty excellent dinner.

Oh, yes, right, that dinner thing. Callida can also remember its existence now. She can verify that it's pretty excellent.

"I apologize for not just being able to hand you a dossier on the Sith Empire's structure and culture. It's not the sort of thing we keep around. And there are pieces that I would prefer to personally explain."

"I understand."

"But I'll be happy to answer any questions you have."

"The first question that springs to mind," he says, "is: which are the pieces that you would prefer to personally explain, and why?"

Oh, right to the heart of it, all right then. She grimaces slightly, but not at him.

"Sith social structure - that is, the social structure of the Sith, not of Sith Imperial citizens - is paradoxically highly complicated and very simple. It's brutal, murderous, utterly ruthless and needlessly cruel, and I will not pretend it is otherwise. It's easy to look at the," she motions in the air with her fork vaguely, "the body count of the whole system and write it and everyone part of it off as either psychotic or utterly insane. I think that would be overly hasty.

"From being picked to be a potential Sith, one is put under an immense deal of pressure and stress. They lose a number of options everyone should have afforded to them, including the ability to walk away. Typical Sith can't trust their peers, because their peers would kill them in a heartbeat, to protect themselves from the same or steal their power sources to prevent someone else trying to hurt them. They can't trust their teachers, because to them they're pawns to be used and discarded when appropriate. They can't trust their students, because everything they teach might be turned against them by someone who would gladly kill anyone who has such power over them. They can't trust soldiers or civilians, because a rival Sith can kidnap and torture them for an angle at their heart or pay them outrageous sums of money for an opening at their back or, if they're very unlucky, break into their minds with the Force until the only thing left is the ability to drool. They lose family and friends and lovers because being related to a Sith is dangerous, and when they've lost them they don't try to reach out again because they cannot let themselves be vulnerable.

"They're - we're - people that would ruthlessly kill anyone that gets in the way, because we have to. We're considered monsters, but we're victims, too. And that's important to understand."