[b]A Serpent Among the buzzards.[/b]

[quote=@Honesty Crow]
[h2][b]Pestage's Folly[/b][/h2]


[hider=My Hider]
"She's late…" Grumbled Phasma who was standing next to the very person who had so arrogantly summoned Miryia. The man next to her chuckled, raising his gloved hand. He stared out into the distance, seeing the speeders and the occasional TIE Interceptor zoom by. He couldn't help but smile as the anticipation built. There was a part of him that wanted to measure her reaction. Their race, after all was well-known for their sense of superiority. To use something Miryia had marked as 'servant' was a direct challenge to her authority and power. Something this particular officer had purposefully done. Not as part of some grand strategy, but simply for his own amusement. His counterpart though, didn't share his sentiment. Phasma, who came from a world where she had been crowned the leader of her clan after her many victories saw Miryia as an outsider and the fact that her boss had called upon her as part of one of his games annoyed her. She was deeply loyal to him, not because she was his underling, but because of what he had done for her in the past. 

"Patience. She knows. And that, I think, makes it all the more exciting." The man giggled, making Phasma roll her eyes. There were times where she couldn't simply stand him. He was a brilliant strategist and spy, but an awful companion. 

"Have you considered she might just hurl you into the Coruscant Underground?" Phasma said, staring back at him in an effort to wipe the grin from his face. That, only made him smile even more. 

"I'm too useful." He said, placing his hands together in front of him, stroking his palms. "Regardless of her opinion of me, I'm too big of an asset. And if my theory is correct…" 

"You will join her?"

"And you won't?" He finally turned to Phasma, his smile fading as she turned away instinctively. There was no doubt in his mind that he was correct, and he wouldn't allow Phasma to say otherwise or put into question her loyalty to him. Pestage's days were numbered and whether he died now or later was just a matter of time. 

"I spoke out of line, sir." 
Her words made the man scoff. There was nothing he hated more than insubordination. Phasma was a good soldier, but too focused on her own loyalty to the Empire for her own good. He would have to deal with that later. 

"I expect better of you, Phasma. But you always do right for me, don't you?" He said, speaking softly. Though, the words doubled as a threat. 
"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." 
The man looks up, the grin on his face appearing again as he spots a luxury speeder approaching in the distance. As the speeder comes closer, Miryia is able to spot two figures. One, a female in a white and black ISB uniform. Next to her is a male who is shorter than her. He too is wearing the black and white uniform of the Bureau. When the speeder gets closer, she manages to make out the male figure better. 

It's a Bothan… 

[/hider]

[/quote]


 				[i]Coruscant[/i]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/XW6xu6l.jpg[/img]

"Was, was that where you grew up?" One of the regular soldier's had asked the Arkanian who was lazing on the heated sofa within the covered Speeder's interior, she was sat coiled, with her feet tucked up to her posterior, an elbow resting on a window, her cheek lazily resting in a fist as she gazed out the window. Ahead of them a palace only slightly smallar than Xizors great home rose with a cathedral like spire lancing at the skies. The banners that billowed in the winds about its parapets were the symbols of the Empire and below it, a hilux made of aurodium and silver, around it were coiled two Arkanian Dragons, one devouring, the other consuming. The symbol of House Janus, who while reduced in power since the ascent of humanocentric politics and the New Order, was still as a force. A force that would inevitably return to its prominence, just as its serpentine daughter would.

"Watch your place!" The adept snapped before whimpering into silence at the withering gaze of the purple eyed woman. A gaze, reinforced by a slow, predatory smile. "I grew up in a palace on Alsakan, not even Arkania proper. In another life, in an age where beaten curr knew their place.."

The rest of the trip was passed in silence, but for an occasional observation she'd make to the soldiers, making them aware her disgust and discontent was with the Inquisitor and not them, even though they had the look of two rats ensnared by a Cobra's eyes.


[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/45/fc/54/45fc54292101d679020bd13a5e05dd42.jpg[/img]


As they edged closer to the proud dome that rose like a mushroom cloud from the upper levels of the Galaxy's "Jewel", Miryia's eyes flickered contemptuously. That looked like one of Masters Oort's designs, the damn cephalopod like Jedi Master was obsessed with what he'd called Natural architecture and she recalled, before she'd slaughtered most of the Jedi Council and framed the Sith, that the Republic had been considering his obscene designs as a replacement for the  Senate building that had been blasted into its constituent Atoms when a Hypermatter bomb delivered by a mindslaved suicide bomber under the influence of Darth Ruin. For the first eighty seven years of the war Miryia had done all that she could to delay the construction of the new Senate building due to believing the resources would be needed for the war effort, for in the early days, the mad man's legions had come ever closer to overcoming the Republic wholesale. As the war raged on and she understood her purpose, she delayed it's construction solely because it weakened the Senate in the eyes of the Galaxy and strengthened the Jedi. She made an approximation of a disappointed sigh, much had transpired that she had not intended to transpire, too long, too long had she slept. Below them, a myriad of lights and sounded rose up to meet the ever whirring sound of the speeders and mas transit vehicles and Miryia extended her awareness, allowing her Jedi senses to take in the full measure of the planet's biodiversity, its sprawling trillion souls. in a way she pitied the Inquisitor, who was so thoroughly inferior she had only begun to manipulate the raw essence of the force in any manner resembling skill, skill enough to simply enjoy the chorus of souls, souls that could just as easily be made to scream out an overture as they were to cheer it. It wouldn't be hard, merely focusing on a single one of those pathetic cattle down there would be sufficient to destroy them utterly and yet she held herself above such visceral indulgences, there was no satisfaction to be had from butchering babies for the sheer sake of it.


As they reached the senate buildings landing area, the Jedi brought herself back into focus. eyes narrowing on the visage of what passed for a welcoming party. Two figures include in the black and white of Imperial intelligence, one a human whose aura wreaked of DNA galvanized by radiation, though she wasn't certain why. She was tall, immensely tall and broad chested, but otherwise looked so unremarkable as to be confused for a member of a hermaphroditic species and beside her a Bothan who bore the superior rank? now that did intrigue her. The first orders bigotry was in many cases not without merit but in the case of humanocentrism it was adorably ignorant. Humans were a superior species solely by virtue of their ability to breed like rabbits and procreate with anything that had a pulse. Their genetic malleability created some of the greatest force wielders in history and simultaneously some of the worst. Bothans were skilled in the art of statecraft and in espionage, the Cervids were an invaluable asset to the Rebel alliance near as she could tell and disenfranchising most of them from their trades of choice was a fools motion. As the Speeder landed, a glint in the Bothan's eyes suggested he was curious, amused and more than a little confident. Had he been the one to send beasts of the field to retrieve her? 

When the doors opened the only indication of her annoyance was that the Inquisitor who left the vehicle first as if to act as an escort yelped in pain as she was forced onto a bended knee, her head compelled down, one hand forced to her breast, the other fist towards the ground in supplication. The woman glided passed her, pausing only to turn her head, ever so lightly "Your sort, do not even merit the honor of walking in the shadows of your betters, I will hold you there until I am out of sight. You will learn your place, or you will have none"


The tall woman seemed to regard her with a healthy mix of mistrust, skepticism and derision? Oh, she was fascinating, she had a wild look about her under the devotion and the order, the rigidity. As though she were still half savage. Perhaps this beastly female was bred by the tribes on her world to serve as a member of a warrior caste? Then again, the derision came with a certain air of authority, however provincial. Upjumped though they were, grasping as they might have been she sensed value in those beings, or at least utility.


"Was it you who sent this...animal to find me?" Her eyes narrowed, she wished to press the point but more important matters needed attention. "What is that wrinkled thug who fancies himself a bureaucrat and his gaggle of carrion eating birds on about in there? Are they attempting to salvage their failures by stripping my Admiral of his rank?" While she had a feeling Karius was present, the vermin hadn't called her, that became clear now, which meant this one..whom she'd overlooked had been been able to perceive her plans.


This wasn't a summonce, not entirely. Her eyes slowly narrowed "Tell me your name" she paused "And your attendants as well"

Phasma might have thought Miryia needed to prove herself, but the concerns of the help meant nothing to her. But she could play nice enough when needed, especially when her attention was caught.