"Agreed."

Occlus gestures, and the force pressing into her sternum slams into the wall. She turns to face the child Sith, expectantly.

Vincoria draws her lightsaber.

She places her hand flat on the table.

With a flick of the blade, she severs her hand at the wrist. She does not cry out. 

Over the next minute, her hand regenerates from the cauterized stump. She flexes it, rolling each of her fingers in turn.

"I am eighty-seven standard years old. I do not sleep. I do not eat. I do not drink. I do not breathe. I do not age. The Force sustains me wholly."

"I see." This may have potential, even if the Rakatan machine is unrecoverable. Occlus stretches a hand out to Vincoria and prepares tendrils of Force to examine her. "If I may?"

She offers her new hand. "You may."

Occlus grasps it in hands both physical and mental, turning it over, seeking imperfections. She finds none. It is, in all respects, indistinguishable from the hand Vincoria was born with. Occlus smiles, and releases her grip.

"Make whatever arrangements are necessary for your depature. I will inspect the former site of the machine, and then we will leave."

"I am glad that we could come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"Quite."

Occlus exits, and heads in the direction of the ruins. Rakatan technology, even damaged, has a distintive signature. She verifies to her satisfaction that the machine is indeed beyond salvaging, and makes note of a few intact and partially damaged glyphs that might have significance. After two hours, she is back at Vincoria's house.

Vincoria has few essential possessions. She is ready to leave by the time Occlus returns. 

(It is dangerous, of course, isolating herself amid another Sith's servants - especially one this strong. Still. Better than spending the rest of eternity on this rock.)

If Vincoria is ready, Occlus wastes no time in going back the ship and getting aboard. It seems that Occlus did not bring any guards other than a two-meter tall Dashade looming by the bulkhead.

<What is this, my master?> he rumbles. <Have you brought a snack for your starving servant?>

Vincoria observes the Dashade coolly. "I am not for eating."

Vincoria's apprentice comes aboard after her master.

"She is definitely not for eating."

<That is what they all say. My hunger is never sated.> Insofar as it is possible for a Dashade to be mournful, this is a mournful Dashade.

Occlus ignores him, and goes to begin preparations for takeoff.

"If you really insist on eating me, I suppose I have a spare hand lying around that you could snack on."

<Flesh is tasteless. I require essence.>

"...Interesting. I may ask you to bite me later."

Though she says nothing, Vincoria's apprentice gives her a Look.

<You are a small and knotty morsel. I will eat all, or nothing.>

"In that case, you will have nothing."

Vincoria's gaze moves away from the hulking creature, and begins calatoguing the improvements in Imperial technology since her separation from the Empire. 

Things are mostly recognizable. No revolutionary breakthroughs, apparently.

The overall aesthetic has not changed.

That's good. Perhaps her colony is not quite so behind the times after all.

She lapses into silence. 

Hyperdrives are the first priority. So long as she has no ships of her own, she is dependent on the goodwill of others. Without the hyperdrive, her colony is at an extreme logistical disadvantage in any battle. However, hyperdrives are expensive. Diabolus had credit accounts, but she cannot rely on their existence after eight decades. Assume she will need a source of funds. Assassination work would be high-paying, discreet, and suited to her talents - but she has no contacts.

Then again, she is a Sith, and a new player in their politics. It is possible she might extract concessions if she can prove her strength. 

Along those lines... It might be politically expedient to name herself "Apprentice" to this Sith Lord, both to hide her own nature and to gain access to an existing political framework whereby resources might flow to her - but she hesitates to bind herself so.

Occlus emerges, and settles herself in the sitting area.

"I don't believe your apprentice and I have have been properly introduced."

"I'm Soph. And you are...?"

Vincoria returns the look Soph gave her a few minutes ago.

"Darth Occlus. How long have you been a Sith, girl?"

"Perhaps a year?"