Star Wars - Lost Tribe of the Sith 04 - Savior

she could continue to visit Korsin, but she was the only one.
    “Korsin is going to the mountain temple tomorrow,” she said. “Seelah is there—and Jariad has left for the north.”
    The Neshtovar men nodded to one another. “Very good,” the eldest said. “We have adequate numbers in place everywhere, if your head count is right.”
    “It is.” Her movement included Keshiri aides to many of the major Sith. Tilden Kaah had been counting heads among Seelah’s retinue; she had other people close to Korsin and Jariad. Her son was even keeping track of Nida’s flying performers. “Noon tomorrow.
This will work
.”
    She thought about Korsin as she stepped into the torchlit alleyway behind the dwelling. Summoned—by Seelah?—Korsin wouldn’t go alone to the temple, no matter how mundane the matter. She double-checked the figures she’d marked on her hand. Yes, she’d have enough people there, just among the stable hands closing up shop.
    Tona appeared from the darkness. “I’ve been waiting.”
    “Sorry,” Adari said, looking up. “They wanted to go over everything again.”
    She could see her son’s flickering disappointment as he stepped into the light. She’d always thought both her children favored their father; now, in his late twenties, Tona surprised her with how much he was looking like her.
    “I should have been with you, Mother. I’m of the Neshtovar, too.”
    “They’re just being careful, Tona. The fewer people who know the details, the better.”
    “I want to ride with you tomorrow,” Tona said.
    “You’ve got your own job to do here,” Adari said. “And you’ll see me when you’ve succeeded.” She touched his cheek. “You shouldn’t be away from Nida and her people too long. Tomorrow will be busy. Get some sleep.”
    Adari watched as he turned into the night. Sweet, simple Tona. She hadn’t told him everything—but then, how could she? Her late mother had never understood her heresy—or her canonization. How could her son accept her martyrdom?
    The golden age had begun, Seelah thought as she surveyed her empty wardroom. And she was responsible.
    They’d done good work here in the years she ran the Tribe’s medical staff. All local maladies had been identified and controlled. With Keshiri aid, Seelah’s biologists had scoured the countryside, indexing botanical remedies useful to humans. The Force-healing skills of her staff, far from atrophying, had increased. So had the survival rate of amputees.
    The Tribe was a purer people, too—thanks to her attention to eugenics. Before too many generations, the blood of the Sith on Kesh would be fully human. She was sorry she wouldn’t live to see it.
    Or would she?
A pleasant thought.
    But the Sith were already more pleasing to
look
at. She’d instilled in the younglings a respect for their bodies, a lust for physical perfection. The Sith Lords they’d left behind were atrocious role models: most of them a barbarian jangle of baubles and war paint. Seelah’s Tribe would have none of that. Tattoos were labels for slaves. A Sith of Kesh was already born a work of art.
    And after the losses in the purge, the Tribe’s numbers had begun to increase rapidly in the last few years. The prospect of a warm home near sea level was enough tostir the most independent-minded Sith with thoughts of family. Out in the courtyard, Seelah saw the Tribe’s leading hedonist, Orlenda, enormously pregnant. Wonders never ceased.
    “That’s everything,” Orlenda said, propping herself against a rickety cart of supplies about to leave for Tahv. The younger woman looked down nervously; Korsin was to arrive any minute. “Do … do you want me here for this? I can’t fly, but I can ride down on this cart with the breakables.”
    Seelah bit her lip. Seeing Orlenda at Seelah’s side when he arrived would put Korsin at ease. But if something went wrong here, Orlenda could make sure Seelah’s policies lived on. “Go,” she said, sighing. “But hurry. They’re arriving.”
    Orlenda rattled off behind Keshiri bearers. Besides uvak, they were Kesh’s only beasts of burden.
    It was time
. Seelah hurried toward the plaza formed by the domiciles and
Omen’s
shrine. Korsin’s entourage landed at the far end. Right on schedule, for a change. Korsin and Gloyd’s four bodyguards took their positions as Keshiri attendants walked the uvak away. Their stables would be the very last thing to close.
    Korsin studied the plaza around him.
    “Ah,