Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [70]
At Vestara’s look, Lady Rhea laughed in her lovely, husky voice. “I cannot read minds, Vestara, but I have trained many an apprentice in my day, and every single one of them has reacted as you have. You are doubtless wondering why we utilize such primitive forms of heating and lighting,” she continued. Vestara hesitated for a moment longer, then sat down on the bed—it was just as lumpy and uncomfortable as it had looked—and began to unlace her sandals.
“The reasons are twofold. First, we wish to purge apprentices of anything that smacks of luxury. There will be time for such things later, but now, we will pare you down to the very bone. Artificial light and heat are technological gifts. As Sith, you must learn to be at home anywhere. The entire galaxy is ours. Some of that galaxy is rich and comfortable. Some of it is bare and harsh. When your training is complete, you will be able to sleep anywhere, know how to make a fire, and be at peace whatever your surroundings.”
Vestara slipped the dress over her head. For a moment, she was pale and naked and vulnerable in the dark, dim room. Then she slipped the heavy black robe over her head and was immediately comforted by its familiarity and tradition.
“The other reason”—and again Lady Rhea smiled—“is simpler. It’s more practical this way.”
Vestara, bent over lacing her boots, smiled, too. She rose, fastened her lightsaber onto her belt, and took a deep breath.
“I know you are familiar with some areas, but now much more is accessible to you. And yes,” Lady Rhea added, anticipating the question, “you will be permitted to set foot in the historic vessel that brought us to this world. It is all part of your training.”
“And … Ship?”
“Patience,” chided Lady Rhea. “It is only your first day. You have years of training ahead of you. Come. I will let you familiarize yourself with the Temple.”
IT WAS A FEW HOURS LATER, WHEN THEY WERE HAVING SOMETHING TO eat in the dining room, that Vestara felt the summons at the back of her mind; a cool, probing touch that sent shivers down her spine.
Ship.
She had been eating a simple meal of barrat stew and oro bread. It was not a sophisticated dish, but the apprentices who had prepared it had a knack for seasonings, and she was hungry. Now, though, the bite of bread seemed dry and tasteless in her mouth. She glanced up at Lady Rhea, mutely asking if she, too, had felt it.
“Yes,” Lady Rhea said. She rose immediately, leaving her half-eaten meal on the table. “It wants us.”
They went.
Apparently, Ship wanted many people. As Lady Rhea and Vestara hastened at a brisk trot out into the courtyard, Vestara saw that several had already gathered and more were emerging. It looked as though everyone in the Temple had been summoned, and when Vestara had threaded her way through the crowd to the front, as was her right as Lady Rhea’s apprentice, she glanced up and saw that several others were approaching on uvak-back. Even, she realized with surprise, Lord Vol. He landed and dismounted stiffly, waving off offers to assist and walking proudly, if slowly, to stand beside the strange, orange-red vessel.
Apparently, when Ship called, one came.
Ship seemed to have patience. After that one summons, Vestara sensed nothing further from him. He seemed to have shuttered himself off from them, still and quiet. Vestara stood rigidly at attention as the minutes ticked past, resisting the urge to shift her weight or otherwise betray any emotion other than stoic patience. At least she was somewhat warm now in her heavy Sith robes. At one point, Lady Rhea placed her hand on Vestara’s shoulder.
And then, with no hint, he was there, in her mind again. All around her, she felt her fellow Sith coming sharply to attention.
You are needed.
Vestara nodded. Twilight had come fully, and the