"By some time. Past your erstwhile Master dying. Twice. I've survived the petty bickerings of his heirs, and now? Now it's my turn to rise."

And as for proof, well. The Scepter of Ragnos at her back flew into her hand, planting the end of it in the ground like a flag. An artifact that was ancient, powerful - and with effects no Jedi or Sith had seen in thousands and thousands of years.

"Yes," she said, with a slight giggle. "How else would I be heir to their toys?"