The only benefit of my Master using me as a sounding board for complaints is that I know just about as much about what’s going on in his life and the lives of those around him as he does.
It’s starting to make me feel like the normal apprentice—though I have been a Lord now for some time.
I don’t know what he’s going to do with that supposed Jedi he had that Agent drag in. I can’t imagine he thinks he’s going to turn it; knowing him he’ll just keep it as a personal torment battery until it starts to get boring.
On the other hand, it wasn’t an exceptionally skilled Jedi if all it was doing was empire building on Nar Shaddaa.
Hopefully, I don’t have to deal with it; I dislike dealing with his cast offs and side projects. Most of them are dreadful, dreadful people, even by Sith standards.
That aside, I’ve got to do something about my robes. I found the most horrid looking things I could just to see if anyone, particularly strangers, would bother pointing out to a Sith Lord that he was dressed like a colorblind madman.
As it stands, only people I know have mentioned it. I thought Obisen was going to cry over how gaudy my robes are.