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					[i][b]Lythos IX Corporate Sector[/b][/i]




It had been amusing to her, immensely so to hear the Vessel's Captain [i]and[/i] her apprentice attempt to dissuade her from landing on Lythos Nine, the sleepy Agriworld had been almost a blip on the radar before her long sleep and evidently that hadn't changed. One of thousands of what were called "harvest worlds", the breadbaskets of the expansion region and of Coruscant and other world cities. They were a dime a dozen, perhaps more so now. To think this "corporate sector Authority" were at all going to sniff them out on this world was a laughable notion, even if their paranoia was expected and proper. -They're not all a lost cause- she thought, some of these Remnant officers simply needed reminding that they were soldiers and that even if she was a "xeno" she was still a Janus and still, their superior. Her eyes narrowed every so lightly as the solar rays of the planet's primary danced along crystal clear water that allowed for visibility up to seventy meters. Water so pure it made a prism of itself at noon, that had been a sight she caught on her first day here. What a majestic sight to behold, a whirling swirl of refractive light reminded her of the intensity of her first immersion into the force, so long ago.

Ahead of her, the former Inquisitor sat, on her knees immersing herself in the force as per her teachings. The first, true immersion the woman likely ever experienced. -we would suppress our emotions and listen to the force, channel it, or try too- Aladar had explained and -Lord Vader taught us to seek out the darkside with our fury, let it act as a lure, guide it in with bait and then subjugate it-. Of course that had never worked apparently and all she could manage was to fuel her own self hatred and guilt, her powers were stunted and she would have succumbed to darkside rot had she not mustered up the courage to seek out her better for council. fortunately, Miryia thought  for she refused to take an ugly person, mottled and ruined by a moronic interpretation of how to effectively wield the darkness. She'd have killed the former inquisitor then, instead opting to teach the aesthetically and psychologically pleasing woman, though slowly for she wasn't anywhere near emotionally ready to begin to call upon the dark. To learn to refine and wield the profane material and avoid the damage therein, one must first needed to become a burning, beacon of light. To take the raw untempered core energies of the "lightside" of the force into oneself until one became a roaring furnace, a crucible fueled by the very substance that would burn away the impurities of the dark, permitting one to fold it, mold it and shape it while insulated by that most vibrant of flames. It had taken Apprentice Aladar time to comprehend this, but she could begin to detect the subtle changes in her body, the gentle regrowth of wearing muscles, the restoration of arteries that had hardened due to the violence of her youth and her adult life. -It is perverse how underutilized her talent was- the Sith, she expected to be dismissive imbeciles, their brains addled by overuse of the darkside. But the Jedi? Her former peers?

It was blasphemously disgusting.

-vile, contemplative buffoons- hands gripped around a lavish chair which obscured most of her body from the rays of tropical sun that browbeat many a spacer who'd not absorbed proper UV in quite some time. For Miryia, the sojourn on Lythos, represented not only a chance for her to test her theory, but for her to relax, to rest her mind, reconstitute her powers and stabilize her "forge" the manner in which she described the inner will of a force wielder, the wrights of the so called higher mysteries used to perform the feats lesser beings deemed miraculous. How could she have both succeeded beyond her expectations and yet failed so ruinously? Had she not planned to ensure the war would endure the ages? Culminate in the extinction of both orders? And perhaps it had, in the end, though it took an extra thousand years. Lamentably it had left everything else intact, a thing she would have to remedy. -the expenditure was well worth it- she thought, in  participating in that coup de'tat and performing a minor miracle mere hours after she'd reinvigorated the faith many had in "force users" and in doing so gained no small amount of followers and her new rank, the "cultural soul" of the Empire. Charged with uniting the masses behind the idea of the New Order.. "Pontifex Invictus" she rolled the title around on her tongue again, ah yes, it was worth it but it would be nothing compared to what would come. For now though, only two things remained ahead of her, the infiltration of the Jedi Praxeum, to comprehend that soulless monstrosity and his order of pretenders.

And, to reunite with a very old friend.

Ahead of her, the woman who had been dismissed as fodder but the talentless, the stupid and the dull, delved deeply into her being and soon, her soul too began to burn within the force.

The Serpent smiled..