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you know? Zsinj's Mandalorian Dog, might be able to use this Chiss to fuck with Ja'Karr...
hrmm...
Yo @Honesty Crow was this one approved?
hrmm...
Yo @Honesty Crow was this one approved?
The student, the cobra and the mournful orphan
The return to her palace had been spent in the same silence, albeit the tener seemed changed. The regular soldiers while fearful of her, seemed to behold her with wide, curious eyes. The blood stain on her cheek confirming what was being shouted and screeched, which filled with a dread of a different sort. The fear of exposure, of retaliation, of being killed for their part in this palace coup by the surviving forces loyal to the dead. One of them, a human male in his forties reached up to scratch his neck under his tight collar, his uniformed which had been pressed and neatly arrayed earlier seemed as frazzled as his heart rate suggested, but the other, the younger one managed a question brought on by a mix of fear and audacity. "Did you really tell Grand Admiral Pitta that you could smell his inferiority?" he asked with a near giddy laugh and the other soldier elbowed him "You're out of line!" he turned to apologize only for the woman to raise a hand "He is, but he is young and does not see the concerns you do" she turned and nodded her head ever so slightly causing the younger soldier to smile "man, it's almost worth being tortured to death by assassin droids over"
Perhaps, he wasn't as young as she thought, at least not mentally. "What's your division soldier?" her tone was an odd mix of her usual aloof formality with hints of genuine interest and the older man surprised muttered the One Hundred and Fourth. To their surprise she leaned back and let out a soft chuckle "You are a continuation of the clone division then?" "Who was the successor to the original Nightfighters Master Janus" the youth said eagerly not realizing he might have tread on dangerous water any other day. Miryia let out a nostalgic breath her head craning to gaze at the cityscape, eclipsed now in the brightly lit dark of a Coruscanti night. "I commanded the One Hundred and Fourth in the Thousand Years war, what you call the New Sith Wars". Their eyes flickered as if to say we know and she nodded, it was decided then. "Tonight you still remain posted at my palace, tomorrow in the morning I will request the One Hundred and Fourth be transferred under the Command of General Cardinal" she'd issued the Captain his new rank on the way out of the Senate meeting, the hundred and first would be reconstituted and it would be the legion that would fight beside her Knights, their vanguard.
"y-you would have us serve you again?!"
She nodded and passed the rest of the right in contemplative silence. Only speaking when she arrived to assure the Storm troopers from the five hundred and First who were scrambling to get their kits and armor on, that their service was needed here where they would begin the process of rebuilding their unit. "Why didn't you want us what you were planning?" One asked, nearly being struck by another for his arrogance. And it was arrogant and presumptive, any other soldier, even an elite of the Storm Trooper corps would have been beaten for his arrogant demand, but the five hundred and first would be hers one day, the personal guard legions of the one she crowned Emperor. While she leveled a harsh stare at the soldier it followed a hand resting on his forearm "Because I would not have the Empire's Fist be seen as mercenary thugs who sold themselves to the winning side. Your honor never left you, even if others believe it was only today restored. But if you had participated in that fracas even to protect me, you surely would have" her hand tightened over the man's wrist and she turned to walk towards the interior leaving her men grim and yet filled with a fire of inspiration, if she was willing to chequer her own honor for them, then perhaps they truly were the elite they'd been in their "youth".
After she'd bathed and again changed her garb, retaining the purple robes but shedding the combat armor and appearing more as though she was prepared for something leisurely if formal. Miryia made her way across the sprawling fountains of the water gardens that made up one of the interior patios. The moons were high in the sky, their own city lights of the colonies that serviced the truly monolithic in scope power plants and relay systems that fed the planetary shield system and its sensors and defense satellites. She sat in rest for several hours, delving into a relaxed meditation to center her emotions and review the events of the day, to replay the faces and the people who had survived. The face of that heterochromatic Isard kept playing over and over in her mind, as if the pivot of destiny, the force amplifying her instincts and feeding off the emotions and memories of others seemed to be warning her or? Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar presence, one she'd humbled earlier and yet, it was so much more intense, emotional, distraught and potent? Purple eyes opened, casting an eerie shine in the semi dark. Before her, in supplication was the Inquisitor with the robotic eye, kneeling and showing deference if not submission?
She'd spared herself from being thrown through a wall by revealing more of herself. "Have you not learned your lesson" she asked, her voice holding contempt. "Forgive me, my lady I was merely trying to offer escort...But..you were right" she relented, tears stained her cheeks and hair that was kept in a bun was messy and frayed and Miryia noted that her clothing was disheveled as if she'd been tearing things apart, tearing herself apart. What caught the Jedi's eyes though, was that while she looked a mess now, when pristine earlier she held less dignity and less introspection. But the remaining eye caught her attention more than anything, it was an vibrant green and filled with an anguish that, much to her own displeasure at admitting she knew well. -you're a mother- she thought, only fathers and mothers could have such sad, bent eyes yet retain such unflinching resolve. "Of course I was, look at you" Miryia hissed realizing at once how blind the Inquisitors had been, how ignorant Lord Vader had been! What Miryia had guessed at being a thirty year old was closer to thirty five, yet she looked closer to twenty five. The force flowed inside of her, to such a degree her cells regenerated more efficiently, enough that her aging was slowed slightly. It was rare for even Jedi's that were wholly human to live beyond two hundred and thirty years and most fell in combat or died of old age closer to one hundred and ten. That she was still restoring herself despite, yes, yes! She could sense it, the scarring in her liver, the damage to her arteries all regenerating, repairing and it was happening now? Not over a period of years, as though whatever personal revelation she'd reached had activated her inner refinery. -They relegated this child to a subordinate? She'd have made a great Jedi, Sith would fawn over this talent before those Baninite fools- she thought, but to keep the girl focused she avoided any praise yet.
"You, who have allowed your potential to be subsumed by your guilt and perverted your form by serving inferior masters? How can I not think you are lower than the vermin?!"
That surprised the woman who looked up, dared to look up and something sparked in her eyes, something, far away. "I...forgive me, my first master once said the same of my potential I"
First master? Now this intrigued her "elaborate child"
"Well...I..." the woman swallowed. "I was a Jedi, a Padawan in the last days of the order, my master a Knight died to save me, I was eleven..I think..I ran and..I tried to honor her, I tried to stay alive" Her voice was tight, it was holding back tears but not at her own circumstances at? Miryia remained seated, straightening as if she were a sovereign about to issue a proclamation. "but you lost yourself and indulged yourself"
"And sold myself into slavery to avoid starvation..things were done..things were"
"and you wish me to absolve you of those sins?" she asked feigning disgust. "No, I..." "my time is precious and my patience is not eternal" "I...Mistress" eyes narrowed dangerously at that "Master" "I am not your master!" she hissed back "Please...I HAVE CHILDREN!"'
Ah, Miryia thought as the woman broke into tears sobbing on bended knee. "I'm so tired, of hate, of rage, of pointless service. I want..I left them..I had too, one is at the Jedi temple an initiate, he's my oldest, twenty" So, they ravaged her young then? And her boy was in the service of that..abomination? "the others, are younger, one is in the Imperial academy..logistics training..the other is on Chadrilla..I...have never" she tried to master herself but her shoulders shook. "I have never seen them since I gave them up, I can't bring myself to look at them..I am tired of feeling like that! Feeling adrift, I want to be a Knight!" she shouted the last part out, her eyes rising to meet Miryia's and there was defiance there, mixed with respect and humility and eagerness and not desperation? Good..good..she thought.
This poor creature might not be as inferior as she believed it was.
"I could kill you for such presumption"
"you won't though" she murmured, between gasps. Undaunted, no hesitation, no despair but faith? The woman's eyes narrowed but without any menace and she rose, slowly and walked toward her. "I was a Jedi Master, yes, but I am Jedi no longer, I am a Knight true but I do not serve the will of the force, for the force has none. I serve ideals, codes, valor, justice, order, the endless war against corruption, stagnation, savagery and the dimming of the lights of civilization and it may be that my war is a doomed one"
"A cause is only doomed if its empty or forsaken Knight Janus, that is what I know" Now that was presomption! And self indulgence, but it was wisdom hard earned and to the surprise of the Inquisitor she felt a hand touch her cheek and then she felt an odd twinge, an odd surge, warmth filled her body and she felt the mechanical prosthetic fall from her temple, the implant push out of her eye socket, something that should have hurt and yet? As metal, circuity and servos were purged she could feel pressure in her sinus cavity and then tears began to fall from a new eye! an eye that beheld the woman who'd nearly killed her months ago and dismissed her like a rat earlier taking an exhausted breath as if the effort had taxed her. It was the only time she showed any signs of fatigue and around them every plant was withered and ruined as if she'd ripped the life force out of them to build her a new eye. "Sith..alchemy?" she asked tearfully and the woman shook her head "Jee'dai, the ancient Forcewrights of old, the precursors to the Jedi and Bendu mysticism, it is not something I can do easily and you will not be my padawan, that is not our word. You shall be my student, my apprentice, my protege, the first of many and in time you will help me raise a legion of Knights dedicated to our cause"
"M..master?"
Slowly the cobra nodded "yes, what is your name child?" "Rheanessya Aladar" she whispered and the sobs came again, but they were akin to a breaking of a dam and power held back by guilt and time, by the foolishness of the Darkside adepts was breaking forward and Miryia did something she hadn't done in a long age.
She pulled the woman into an embrace that was as maternal as it was fierce holding her for several moments before bringing her up to their full height (of which Rhenessya stood almost a head taller). "Rheanessya Aladar, you came to me on your knees lower than a slave, you rise now a Knight and my first student in one thousand, eight hundred years"
"I do not know if the future holds reconciliation for your children and you, but I promise you, the one son who walks the Jedi's path will come home and you will face him with your warriors pride intact. This I swear to you"
As I swear it to the galaxy
"As you will it Master!"
A slow, half crazed yet oddly warm smile crept across her face, a genuine, true smile.
At last, she thought.
the great crusade begins.
The return to her palace had been spent in the same silence, albeit the tener seemed changed. The regular soldiers while fearful of her, seemed to behold her with wide, curious eyes. The blood stain on her cheek confirming what was being shouted and screeched, which filled with a dread of a different sort. The fear of exposure, of retaliation, of being killed for their part in this palace coup by the surviving forces loyal to the dead. One of them, a human male in his forties reached up to scratch his neck under his tight collar, his uniformed which had been pressed and neatly arrayed earlier seemed as frazzled as his heart rate suggested, but the other, the younger one managed a question brought on by a mix of fear and audacity. "Did you really tell Grand Admiral Pitta that you could smell his inferiority?" he asked with a near giddy laugh and the other soldier elbowed him "You're out of line!" he turned to apologize only for the woman to raise a hand "He is, but he is young and does not see the concerns you do" she turned and nodded her head ever so slightly causing the younger soldier to smile "man, it's almost worth being tortured to death by assassin droids over"
Perhaps, he wasn't as young as she thought, at least not mentally. "What's your division soldier?" her tone was an odd mix of her usual aloof formality with hints of genuine interest and the older man surprised muttered the One Hundred and Fourth. To their surprise she leaned back and let out a soft chuckle "You are a continuation of the clone division then?" "Who was the successor to the original Nightfighters Master Janus" the youth said eagerly not realizing he might have tread on dangerous water any other day. Miryia let out a nostalgic breath her head craning to gaze at the cityscape, eclipsed now in the brightly lit dark of a Coruscanti night. "I commanded the One Hundred and Fourth in the Thousand Years war, what you call the New Sith Wars". Their eyes flickered as if to say we know and she nodded, it was decided then. "Tonight you still remain posted at my palace, tomorrow in the morning I will request the One Hundred and Fourth be transferred under the Command of General Cardinal" she'd issued the Captain his new rank on the way out of the Senate meeting, the hundred and first would be reconstituted and it would be the legion that would fight beside her Knights, their vanguard.
"y-you would have us serve you again?!"
She nodded and passed the rest of the right in contemplative silence. Only speaking when she arrived to assure the Storm troopers from the five hundred and First who were scrambling to get their kits and armor on, that their service was needed here where they would begin the process of rebuilding their unit. "Why didn't you want us what you were planning?" One asked, nearly being struck by another for his arrogance. And it was arrogant and presumptive, any other soldier, even an elite of the Storm Trooper corps would have been beaten for his arrogant demand, but the five hundred and first would be hers one day, the personal guard legions of the one she crowned Emperor. While she leveled a harsh stare at the soldier it followed a hand resting on his forearm "Because I would not have the Empire's Fist be seen as mercenary thugs who sold themselves to the winning side. Your honor never left you, even if others believe it was only today restored. But if you had participated in that fracas even to protect me, you surely would have" her hand tightened over the man's wrist and she turned to walk towards the interior leaving her men grim and yet filled with a fire of inspiration, if she was willing to chequer her own honor for them, then perhaps they truly were the elite they'd been in their "youth".
After she'd bathed and again changed her garb, retaining the purple robes but shedding the combat armor and appearing more as though she was prepared for something leisurely if formal. Miryia made her way across the sprawling fountains of the water gardens that made up one of the interior patios. The moons were high in the sky, their own city lights of the colonies that serviced the truly monolithic in scope power plants and relay systems that fed the planetary shield system and its sensors and defense satellites. She sat in rest for several hours, delving into a relaxed meditation to center her emotions and review the events of the day, to replay the faces and the people who had survived. The face of that heterochromatic Isard kept playing over and over in her mind, as if the pivot of destiny, the force amplifying her instincts and feeding off the emotions and memories of others seemed to be warning her or? Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar presence, one she'd humbled earlier and yet, it was so much more intense, emotional, distraught and potent? Purple eyes opened, casting an eerie shine in the semi dark. Before her, in supplication was the Inquisitor with the robotic eye, kneeling and showing deference if not submission?
She'd spared herself from being thrown through a wall by revealing more of herself. "Have you not learned your lesson" she asked, her voice holding contempt. "Forgive me, my lady I was merely trying to offer escort...But..you were right" she relented, tears stained her cheeks and hair that was kept in a bun was messy and frayed and Miryia noted that her clothing was disheveled as if she'd been tearing things apart, tearing herself apart. What caught the Jedi's eyes though, was that while she looked a mess now, when pristine earlier she held less dignity and less introspection. But the remaining eye caught her attention more than anything, it was an vibrant green and filled with an anguish that, much to her own displeasure at admitting she knew well. -you're a mother- she thought, only fathers and mothers could have such sad, bent eyes yet retain such unflinching resolve. "Of course I was, look at you" Miryia hissed realizing at once how blind the Inquisitors had been, how ignorant Lord Vader had been! What Miryia had guessed at being a thirty year old was closer to thirty five, yet she looked closer to twenty five. The force flowed inside of her, to such a degree her cells regenerated more efficiently, enough that her aging was slowed slightly. It was rare for even Jedi's that were wholly human to live beyond two hundred and thirty years and most fell in combat or died of old age closer to one hundred and ten. That she was still restoring herself despite, yes, yes! She could sense it, the scarring in her liver, the damage to her arteries all regenerating, repairing and it was happening now? Not over a period of years, as though whatever personal revelation she'd reached had activated her inner refinery. -They relegated this child to a subordinate? She'd have made a great Jedi, Sith would fawn over this talent before those Baninite fools- she thought, but to keep the girl focused she avoided any praise yet.
"You, who have allowed your potential to be subsumed by your guilt and perverted your form by serving inferior masters? How can I not think you are lower than the vermin?!"
That surprised the woman who looked up, dared to look up and something sparked in her eyes, something, far away. "I...forgive me, my first master once said the same of my potential I"
First master? Now this intrigued her "elaborate child"
"Well...I..." the woman swallowed. "I was a Jedi, a Padawan in the last days of the order, my master a Knight died to save me, I was eleven..I think..I ran and..I tried to honor her, I tried to stay alive" Her voice was tight, it was holding back tears but not at her own circumstances at? Miryia remained seated, straightening as if she were a sovereign about to issue a proclamation. "but you lost yourself and indulged yourself"
"And sold myself into slavery to avoid starvation..things were done..things were"
"and you wish me to absolve you of those sins?" she asked feigning disgust. "No, I..." "my time is precious and my patience is not eternal" "I...Mistress" eyes narrowed dangerously at that "Master" "I am not your master!" she hissed back "Please...I HAVE CHILDREN!"'
Ah, Miryia thought as the woman broke into tears sobbing on bended knee. "I'm so tired, of hate, of rage, of pointless service. I want..I left them..I had too, one is at the Jedi temple an initiate, he's my oldest, twenty" So, they ravaged her young then? And her boy was in the service of that..abomination? "the others, are younger, one is in the Imperial academy..logistics training..the other is on Chadrilla..I...have never" she tried to master herself but her shoulders shook. "I have never seen them since I gave them up, I can't bring myself to look at them..I am tired of feeling like that! Feeling adrift, I want to be a Knight!" she shouted the last part out, her eyes rising to meet Miryia's and there was defiance there, mixed with respect and humility and eagerness and not desperation? Good..good..she thought.
This poor creature might not be as inferior as she believed it was.
"I could kill you for such presumption"
"you won't though" she murmured, between gasps. Undaunted, no hesitation, no despair but faith? The woman's eyes narrowed but without any menace and she rose, slowly and walked toward her. "I was a Jedi Master, yes, but I am Jedi no longer, I am a Knight true but I do not serve the will of the force, for the force has none. I serve ideals, codes, valor, justice, order, the endless war against corruption, stagnation, savagery and the dimming of the lights of civilization and it may be that my war is a doomed one"
"A cause is only doomed if its empty or forsaken Knight Janus, that is what I know" Now that was presomption! And self indulgence, but it was wisdom hard earned and to the surprise of the Inquisitor she felt a hand touch her cheek and then she felt an odd twinge, an odd surge, warmth filled her body and she felt the mechanical prosthetic fall from her temple, the implant push out of her eye socket, something that should have hurt and yet? As metal, circuity and servos were purged she could feel pressure in her sinus cavity and then tears began to fall from a new eye! an eye that beheld the woman who'd nearly killed her months ago and dismissed her like a rat earlier taking an exhausted breath as if the effort had taxed her. It was the only time she showed any signs of fatigue and around them every plant was withered and ruined as if she'd ripped the life force out of them to build her a new eye. "Sith..alchemy?" she asked tearfully and the woman shook her head "Jee'dai, the ancient Forcewrights of old, the precursors to the Jedi and Bendu mysticism, it is not something I can do easily and you will not be my padawan, that is not our word. You shall be my student, my apprentice, my protege, the first of many and in time you will help me raise a legion of Knights dedicated to our cause"
"M..master?"
Slowly the cobra nodded "yes, what is your name child?" "Rheanessya Aladar" she whispered and the sobs came again, but they were akin to a breaking of a dam and power held back by guilt and time, by the foolishness of the Darkside adepts was breaking forward and Miryia did something she hadn't done in a long age.
She pulled the woman into an embrace that was as maternal as it was fierce holding her for several moments before bringing her up to their full height (of which Rhenessya stood almost a head taller). "Rheanessya Aladar, you came to me on your knees lower than a slave, you rise now a Knight and my first student in one thousand, eight hundred years"
"I do not know if the future holds reconciliation for your children and you, but I promise you, the one son who walks the Jedi's path will come home and you will face him with your warriors pride intact. This I swear to you"
As I swear it to the galaxy
"As you will it Master!"
A slow, half crazed yet oddly warm smile crept across her face, a genuine, true smile.
At last, she thought.
the great crusade begins.
Pestage's Folly
As the world went dark, Miryia stood in the middle of the room, in the chaos. Blaster bolts and debris danced around her and yet seemed to warp, as the woman channeling the force in ways she hadn't in months, allow every cell of her being to become infused with the raw essence. the power that she proceeded to refine and craft, allowing her skill and experience to form a low level EM field about her form that kept her from being hit by blaster bolt, for in her arrogance she refused to dodge. A broken bottle and a bloody skull, weaponry dancing about her, fire and smoke and pure chaos. Chaos, with a purpose, chaos controlled, chaos ordered, the overt contraction whose overlap allowed for the proliferation of civilization, of life. -I would control the chaos with order, Sidious wished to unleash that chaos without any foresight- and this, macabre stalemate and revilization had been brought about in part by her own actions, her own plans, which had...Her mind trailed off, fury, regret and disgust filling her mind as she beheld the end results of her long sleep, her inattentiveness. "I was so close" she whispered, so close and yet so far. Unless?
Something pressed against her back and she realized Grand Admiral Octavian grant realized she was one of the safest spots to be near and so nearly leaned against her, lazily picking off stragglers, wounded, or people foolish to try and shoot them both. "your offer was stimulating" whatever was passed between them remained hidden and for a time the Jedi gazed at the Bothan and his dutiful bodyguard, who had managed to impress Miryia with her tireless defense of the lunatic was merely enjoying the show and marveling at his work? Miryia allowed a slight smile to gut at the corner of her lips -You used me, but you knew well enough to give me an opening- a credit to his race, to be sure..She would have to pay him back, he was certainly proving to be interesting. Utter chaos as a clusterkriff burned itself out and the dust began to settle as power was rerouting and lighting began to slowly crawl back into utility, displaying a grizzly bed of carnage and gore and the dead and dying. To her surprise, not only had Grand Moff Hissa managed to survive but it had seemed as though he did a fairly good job of competing with Karius in body count and Miryia gave both men a nod, with her eyes lingering on Karius for a fraction of a second longer. Her people survived it seemed as had the other Viper in the room who now found herself standing among the ruins of nearly all her professional rivals and with several declared allies including one of her own who had also chosen to support Isard. Miryia cast her a courteous nod and then a challenging look before she turned and walked passed Phasma and the Bothan, her hand clasping Phasma on the shoulder "You do your master a credit" she walked passed the woman towards the wreckage, surveying more of the dead including a Moff who suffered a shattered arm for grabbing her rear at a function a month ago. Gilad Pellaeon rose, managing to keep uniform immaculate and unwrinkled even as he jumped for cover.
The woman beside him had fire in her eyes but she was the dutiful second, a sense of awareness possessed her sight and she stood protectively beside Gilad as if to defend her Admiral should the Jedi turn her wrath towards him. "You may stand down, your Admiral is a patriot and I would sooner cut off my own arm than hurt him" she turned regarding Phasma as if to say the same applied to Raveem, for the time being any way, only the passage of more months and years would reveal to her what she should ultimately do with both men. A scream rang out, everyone turned to see the Bothan fall, a look of theatrical horror passed over Miryia's face. Which quickly turned to a soft chuckle as he "rose from the dead" to put a venomous dart in the throat of the man who'd just tried to kill him. The Jedi watched Grand Admiral Pitta die, her eyes flickering as she extended her awareness into his being, sensing how the poison killed him . "Quite impressive, director general"
Now, it came time to get to the heart of the matter as the whimpering pleas of the a thing who fancied itself a man. A flicker of Miryia's fingers forced the disreputable dimwit up, she forced to sit upon the chair once again, that silly thing Pestage mistakenly believed gave him power. "Mercy?" her eyes flickered with malice and indignation, as if she'd waste time torturing this simple fool who was beneath the insects. "Mercy? Well, I am a Jedi Knight, a master of the council no less and I suspect the last one alive in the whole of the Galaxy" she smiled, almost serenely and it was the most disturbing thing Sate Pestage had said. "Yes, I think I shall grant you mercy" Miryia's eyes flickered and she raised a hand and Sate Pestage let out a gurgle as the woman compressed his bones into the chair which broke and bent under the power. As his brain ceased to function the last thing he'd have felt was the collapse of his pelvis and the rupture of all of his lower intestines as she warped the imbeciles throne around his body until it seemingly devoured him.
An apt metaphor.
But she couldn't stop to savor it, she'd torn apart their precious New Order and now it was time to rebuild it. She turned her upperbody, her cloak wrapping about her figure, drops of blood smeared part of her right cheek and some droplets fell into her hair, though nothing in the entire battle had stained her, as if she allowed it to happen, as if she either wished to feel her enemies blood on her or she was simply emphasizing a point.
Whatever that point was.
"We must replace them, we are surrounded by enemies on all sides even within. But they must not be sycophants. While the New Order was tainted at its birth, this day can become a crucible. We can reorganize, reorder ourselves, refound a dynasty to endure ten thousand years and ten thousand more." idly her hand moved to her lightsaber, it twitched lightly, for she realized she hadn't wielded it in so long. But also, as a soft threat..Unite, rally to the cause and place the cause above yourself.
Or stand attainted. "I don't want that accursed chair" she added with a sense of certitude. "Grand Vizier is not a position I want"
She paused, allowing the room to grow quiet, allowing the bewildered survivors a chance to process what was coming next "Nor do I desire to be empress, this Galaxy needs a higher calling, a unifying faith in men and women of flesh and bone and soul as well as in an institution. Gentlemen, ladies...you will provide the institution. I shall provide the faith"
Here, she let out a breath...finally, it could begin.
Here, Miryia raised a hand, it sparked with golden lightning but not menacingly, more it seemed to be a beacon, for it drew at last the curious spectators from outside who for some strange reason hadn't noticed the battle until now.
"Imperial Grand Moff Bertrof Hissa" her voice boomed, holding with it the majesty of a cobra and the intensity of a zealot. "Rise from your seat of carnage Grand Vizier" he'd proven himself adept at navigating the treachery, even if he was an over the top lunatic. He was also, someone who understood when he was being given an ultimatum and one that involved being handed power, even if it might have been illusory. She'd just declared him the head of state, the master of the bureaucracy and any objections any of the surviving Royal guard might have had to her total usurpation of the role of the Sith cult in the order of the Empire died in their throats when they beheld the "chair".
After that, Miryia eyed Raveem "I suppose the rest is up to you, it is not my place to order your entire Government" walking towards the bar she allowed herself a moment of self indulgence. The force swirled around her and a bottle of fine Corellian brandy lifted from one of the shelves. The cork removed itself and two glasses were poured. That was when the arrogant woman finally used her hands, hand the Bothan a drink before taking hers. "You are clever Bothan, clever enough to be worth my gratitude, even if you did use me as a catalyst" rising the woman moved towards the door.
Before stopping and turning back to Octavian Grant who seemed to gesture towards Gilad Pellaeon. Miryia laughed "Reluctant Admiral, I believe they mean to foist the trappings of power upon your shoulder. Might I suggesting adopting a cape as part of your uniform"
@Honesty Crow
Pestage's Folly
Miryia Farlina of House Janus, Jedi Master and architect of atrocity, engineer of conflict and what one Sith termed a "mistress of false flags", had long suspected a truth that was almost too terrible to put to words a truth that had dismayed her almost as much as the realization that her long sleep had denied her the chance to guide the dark age, to push the fall to where the slate would be wiped clean. Punishment, she once thought for her greatest sin, her greatest gamble. But she'd awoken to a Galaxy that was born in the culmination of the first stage of her plan and then, to see a Sith carry it out, only to implement what should have been the second act at the end of the first millennia of the war, for his own personal vanity and not out of a broken souls nihilistic rampage when he realized the truth. That those who valued their individuality, their vast personal might beyond any other treasure save their freedom was merely, the last in a long line of puppets for the will not of the force, but a single sentient who held both they and their mortal enemies in Judgment. No, she thought, he engineered the New Order, to sound as appealing as possible, the great pipe dream of so many, so much of the galaxy only for it to be governed by the most unstable, ignorant, degenerate, imbecilic batch of inferiors in the known universe! It wasn't designed to endure long without him, not the sith, but him...The Sith were dead, their legacy would have lived on solely in his malformed and atrophied soul, not his apprentice, but him and he'd intended to endure ten thousand years!
And if he couldn't achieve that, then the Galaxy could burn around his ashes, a magnificent pyre to sate the vanity of the universe's biggest fool! Orchested by the pathetic clowns, thugs, vermin and upjumped slaves she saw before her. Slowly, the room began to grow cold. Slowly, the walls began strain until finally plasmarble cracked and lights began to flicker. Miryia bowed her head and one of the Royal guardsmen stammered backwards, he might have been force sensitive, not enough to merit even a spot on the Inquisitors but enough that he perceived what was truly before him and he gave a yelp "My Lord! This thi-" he went silent, as a laughter, that might have been beautiful when it was filled with joy but was filled with a madness that froze his blood! Oh, he was no stranger to laughter of monsters, for he'd served The Emperor, his dark lord well but where Sidious had the frenzied laugh of a malevolent being high on his own darkness, this, this was a corruption of light, a burning insanity that terrified him. Her laughter rose, a chorus above the bickering and the posturing. Miryia's shoulders briefly became lopsided, her posture contorted, her hands clenched into fists, bone white hair fell about shoulders that were ordinarily statuesque and yet not looked like the costume of something, not at all humanoid and more akin to a eldrichian serpent. For the briefest of seconds, before she straightened again and the world saw only the gallant, noble image she intended the world to see.
Until she spoke, her voice was powerful, commanding, in it was the authority of a Master of the Jedi Order, a woman bred to rule, a noble, a war hero, a complete and utter lunatic. "How did the fool mean to achieve it?! Via clones? Life theft? Alchemically created golems?" she asked in a contemptuous hiss, Pestage who'd been wheezing out a kill order, went silent in horrified recognition at her question...But he remained silent. Others in the room paused at the seeming absurdity of the question. "You! Stunted Hoodrat! Ghetto born swine! Bastard son of a whore, drug spawned degenerate, disappointment in the eyes of your father" How she knew these things about a man whose entire life was obscured to all save Palpatine witnesses would later speculate on. "Your better has addressed you! Oh? You won't speak! Are you fearful? Or have the decades of spice use and venereal diseases accumulated from Twi'lik leavings of your sodomous paramours addled your brain beyond all memory?" The last part might have been a total calumny for all she knew, all she knew was that it was what people of his level were, diseased and she didn't care if he was the exception. Pitta was about to speak and Miryia turned, the sheer fury in her eyes, the icy contempt, the revealing glare that recognized silent him
"And you, filthy, fraud! Do you think your blustering venom can conceal your true nature from my powers? Or my senses? Fool! I'm Arkanian, engineered to be superior, I can smell the stench of non human DNA all of your body! And you, who are so mongrelized that you can't even name the species who had sex with your foremothers to yield you, who no doubt crawled, bawling from the rancid pit between your mystery meat mothers legs! You dare slander a Bothan whose blood is pure? Whose lineage higher than any in this soom save Grand Admiral Grant and myself? You detestable spawn of immiserated slave! Freedman trash! Your vehence betrays your coward's hypocrisy!" Some other imbecile Grand Admiral appeared as though he were about to say something, perhaps in her defense. It was the one who used narcotics to expand his mind, she sent a simple thought to him -When I want the opinion of someone who might be found in an alley with a stim shooter in his arm next to Pitta's mother I'll ask for yours, stay silent for now-
"Do none of you know?! Hah! You pathetic creatures, of course you wouldn't know! How could you? You who recite the pledge to establish a new and peaceful order upon a galaxy, the loyal, the brave and the true fighting for the justice of the wise, dispensed from on high to the teaming masses of a Galaxy inundated by corruption! Do you truly lack the self awareness to see it? Or are you so afraid of the truth? You reprobate fools champion order?! The Emperor's peace! YOUR EMPIRE IS A LIE! DESIGNED BY A FOOL CHASING IMMORTALITY OF THE FLESH!" Her voice cracked like a thunderous scream and she whipped around and flashed Raveem a look that suggested he should pay close attention to the reactions of many, for some began to see what she was saying and their eyes filled with fury at the betrayal from the very roots of their cause and were reinvigorated by a desire to restore the New Order free of its chains while others despaired and most gawked like fools who thought her mad.
"This Galaxy had a chance to start again! The force! Had a chance to be understood for what it was truly and you braying carrion eating jesters fight amongst yourself Squandering it?! You speak of treason while you maneuver yourselves to gorge on the leavings!" A new order of Force users, true Knights dedicated to order and justice, warrior priests and scholars with blades, fighting side by sight with the elite of the Storm Troopers. For that alone, they were all damned. "And now, you brawl like thugs? Traitors I name you!" her voice grew less mad but the held in it a prelates intensity, a ferver of religion, she wasn't merely insulting them but judging with the certitude of one given a mandate from what many considered the will of the force (even though she scoffed at such notions). "lower your weapons..no? You won't?"
She flicked her left hand forward with an alarming suddenness and golden lightning roared from her palm and impacted against one of the guards flanking Pestage with enough force to blow his torso wide open, blood sprayed about the room, armor splintered and one of his ribs rebounded off the head of Grand Moff Hissa who roared with delight and pulled a blaster.
The room went dark as walls cracked and lights failed leaving only the glow of blaster fire, vibroblades
And a pair of serpents eyes.
Pestage's Folly
Miryia Farlina of House Janus, Jedi Master and architect of atrocity, engineer of conflict and what one Sith termed a "mistress of false flags", had long suspected a truth that was almost too terrible to put to words a truth that had dismayed her almost as much as the realization that her long sleep had denied her the chance to guide the dark age, to push the fall to where the slate would be wiped clean. Punishment, she once thought for her greatest sin, her greatest gamble. But she'd awoken to a Galaxy that was born in the culmination of the first stage of her plan and then, to see a Sith carry it out, only to implement what should have been the second act at the end of the first millennia of the war, for his own personal vanity and not out of a broken souls nihilistic rampage when he realized the truth. That those who valued their individuality, their vast personal might beyond any other treasure save their freedom was merely, the last in a long line of puppets for the will not of the force, but a single sentient who held both they and their mortal enemies in Judgment. No, she thought, he engineered the New Order, to sound as appealing as possible, the great pipe dream of so many, so much of the galaxy only for it to be governed by the most unstable, ignorant, degenerate, imbecilic batch of inferiors in the known universe! It wasn't designed to endure long without him, not the sith, but him...The Sith were dead, their legacy would have lived on solely in his malformed and atrophied soul, not his apprentice, but him and he'd intended to endure ten thousand years!
And if he couldn't achieve that, then the Galaxy could burn around his ashes, a magnificent pyre to sate the vanity of the universe's biggest fool! Orchested by the pathetic clowns, thugs, vermin and upjumped slaves she saw before her. Slowly, the room began to grow cold. Slowly, the walls began strain until finally plasmarble cracked and lights began to flicker. Miryia bowed her head and one of the Royal guardsmen stammered backwards, he might have been force sensitive, not enough to merit even a spot on the Inquisitors but enough that he perceived what was truly before him and he gave a yelp "My Lord! This thi-" he went silent, as a laughter, that might have been beautiful when it was filled with joy but was filled with a madness that froze his blood! Oh, he was no stranger to laughter of monsters, for he'd served The Emperor, his dark lord well but where Sidious had the frenzied laugh of a malevolent being high on his own darkness, this, this was a corruption of light, a burning insanity that terrified him. Her laughter rose, a chorus above the bickering and the posturing. Miryia's shoulders briefly became lopsided, her posture contorted, her hands clenched into fists, bone white hair fell about shoulders that were ordinarily statuesque and yet not looked like the costume of something, not at all humanoid and more akin to a eldrichian serpent. For the briefest of seconds, before she straightened again and the world saw only the gallant, noble image she intended the world to see.
Until she spoke, her voice was powerful, commanding, in it was the authority of a Master of the Jedi Order, a woman bred to rule, a noble, a war hero, a complete and utter lunatic. "How did the fool mean to achieve it?! Via clones? Life theft? Alchemically created golems?" she asked in a contemptuous hiss, Pestage who'd been wheezing out a kill order, went silent in horrified recognition at her question...But he remained silent. Others in the room paused at the seeming absurdity of the question. "You! Stunted Hoodrat! Ghetto born swine! Bastard son of a whore, drug spawned degenerate, disappointment in the eyes of your father" How she knew these things about a man whose entire life was obscured to all save Palpatine witnesses would later speculate on. "Your better has addressed you! Oh? You won't speak! Are you fearful? Or have the decades of spice use and venereal diseases accumulated from Twi'lik leavings of your sodomous paramours addled your brain beyond all memory?" The last part might have been a total calumny for all she knew, all she knew was that it was what people of his level were, diseased and she didn't care if he was the exception. Pitta was about to speak and Miryia turned, the sheer fury in her eyes, the icy contempt, the revealing glare that recognized silent him
"And you, filthy, fraud! Do you think your blustering venom can conceal your true nature from my powers? Or my senses? Fool! I'm Arkanian, engineered to be superior, I can smell the stench of non human DNA all of your body! And you, who are so mongrelized that you can't even name the species who had sex with your foremothers to yield you, who no doubt crawled, bawling from the rancid pit between your mystery meat mothers legs! You dare slander a Bothan whose blood is pure? Whose lineage higher than any in this soom save Grand Admiral Grant and myself? You detestable spawn of immiserated slave! Freedman trash! Your vehence betrays your coward's hypocrisy!" Some other imbecile Grand Admiral appeared as though he were about to say something, perhaps in her defense. It was the one who used narcotics to expand his mind, she sent a simple thought to him -When I want the opinion of someone who might be found in an alley with a stim shooter in his arm next to Pitta's mother I'll ask for yours, stay silent for now-
"Do none of you know?! Hah! You pathetic creatures, of course you wouldn't know! How could you? You who recite the pledge to establish a new and peaceful order upon a galaxy, the loyal, the brave and the true fighting for the justice of the wise, dispensed from on high to the teaming masses of a Galaxy inundated by corruption! Do you truly lack the self awareness to see it? Or are you so afraid of the truth? You reprobate fools champion order?! The Emperor's peace! YOUR EMPIRE IS A LIE! DESIGNED BY A FOOL CHASING IMMORTALITY OF THE FLESH!" Her voice cracked like a thunderous scream and she whipped around and flashed Raveem a look that suggested he should pay close attention to the reactions of many, for some began to see what she was saying and their eyes filled with fury at the betrayal from the very roots of their cause and were reinvigorated by a desire to restore the New Order free of its chains while others despaired and most gawked like fools who thought her mad.
"This Galaxy had a chance to start again! The force! Had a chance to be understood for what it was truly and you braying carrion eating jesters fight amongst yourself Squandering it?! You speak of treason while you maneuver yourselves to gorge on the leavings!" A new order of Force users, true Knights dedicated to order and justice, warrior priests and scholars with blades, fighting side by sight with the elite of the Storm Troopers. For that alone, they were all damned. "And now, you brawl like thugs? Traitors I name you!" her voice grew less mad but the held in it a prelates intensity, a ferver of religion, she wasn't merely insulting them but judging with the certitude of one given a mandate from what many considered the will of the force (even though she scoffed at such notions). "lower your weapons..no? You won't?"
She flicked her left hand forward with an alarming suddenness and golden lightning roared from her palm and impacted against one of the guards flanking Pestage with enough force to blow his torso wide open, blood sprayed about the room, armor splintered and one of his ribs rebounded off the head of Grand Moff Hissa who roared with delight and pulled a blaster.
The room went dark as walls cracked and lights failed leaving only the glow of blaster fire, vibroblades
And a pair of serpents eyes.
@Honesty Crow
Pestage's Folly
For the briefest of moments the woman went silent, her eyes flickering at the mention of the Bothan's clan name and things began to fall into place. He'd played her, not for his benefit entirely, though it was clear he derived a great deal of amusement from her reaction. His mind erratic as it was spoke for an order in the chaos and Miryia declined to probe further, not wanting to risk what almost always happened when she tried to read the minds of the uninitiated (and even some who were) into the mysteries of force craft. She laughed, it might have been the only genuine laugh she'd laughed in a long age. "Vas'Ah, I begin to understand why you're among the few nonhumans in Imperial leadership" she inclined her head to the side, as if acknowledging his game and she straightened slightly, a serpent infurling its hood so that one who earned the right to gaze might get a better look. "I knew your clan, not entirely personally, but your reputation was well earned before the Thousand years war." As a Padawan both her and her master were assigned to protect a Bothan Senator of that clan, his rhetoric and his relentlessness against his political enemies had admittedly inspired some of her later movements against the Sith.
As phasma was introduced and bowed, the Arkanian's smile constricted into a smirk. "You've trained this one well, though I thought she was a product of our genetic engineering until I came close enough to take in her scent, she's baseline human..Albeit remarkable for the ordinary." It was then the topic shifted to Pestage and Miryia's eyes grew slightly harder, she'd planned on accusing him of knowing there was a forged relic and sending them out to die. It was a good line to lead with if predictable, but perhaps he opened additional doors? And other vectors? His eyes seemed to catch what she was thinking, ever a student of body language were Bothans as it was their way to know how to manipulate the people they wished to manipulate. Knowing this she allowed a nod in confirmation and opted not to debase his intelligence by lying to him but to lead with the truth and her own insights. "I am the only one who can refute the lies that wrinkled, prune of a malcontented reprobate is likely spinning to cover for the fact that he sent the remnants of the Five Hundred and First, Admiral Karius and myself out there under escorted because he expected it would be depressingly easy to abscond with the Holocron. And if by mischance a fleet of terrorist trash from Alliance space entered our vicinity, well it was no loss." To say nothing, she thought; of the fact that both he and that aged, chandrillan tart were both made to look absolutely foolish by whomever among the three who arrived that had truly stolen the holocron.
The Rebels looked worse, for it was on their watch the fraud took place, for after hearing what the bartender said she knew they had the genuine article once before. "Walk with me, if that diseased, hoodrat and his flock of garbage eaters believe they can use this to deprive the Remnant of proper soldiers and deny me then they are fools far more deserving of a beating than that wretched beast you sent to retrieve me is..."
Miryia moved forward, the fabric trailing around and behind her giving the impression she slithered more than walked. One of her hands twitched, she'd held herself in check and played the dutiful subordinate for far too long and it was clear she was chafing on her self imposed chains.
Making it clear she wanted blood.
She'd nearly flown up the steps and made it halfway through the great hall of the Senate building before the other two caught up to her. Before them several Stormtroopers in crimson motioned to stop her "sorry Master Janus, we were given orders that only the director and his...." the trooper stopped talking the moment his gaze fell on the Arkanian's, the hall seemed to grow smaller around him, the air stuffy and took a breath "Are you his guest?"
A slight nod was all the confirmation he needed to justify giving into the terror he began to feel and the doors opened. To the guards surprise, Miryia allowed Raveem to enter beside her, the only an inch or so of space ahead of him, which was an odd thing. In the two months that she'd attended these meetings she allowed none of her escorts or those who were part of the meetings but walked in with her to be fewer than ten paces behind her.
As they moved closer to the archway leading to the former Senate chamber where they gathered before entering the main Senate Hall, she could hear the bickering already and laughed derisively. The pathetic scavengers didn't even have enough of to fill a qaurter of the Senate chamber and so bartered and bickered like back alley thugs haggling over spice prices, the sterility of prostitutes or the availability of Deathsticks.
And soon a new sound emerged over the fray, her contemptuous laughter that rose like a hiss, brimming with venom and a sort of madness that many wrote about but few understood.
"Ah, Admiral Karius!" Grand Admirals Grant and Tigellinus, who looked like they would rather be attending one of the balls going on in orbit at one of the Sky palaces finally perked up as the odd trio entered. Miryia threw her arms open in a cross like manner, her cloak flowing behind her, casting a hooded shadow about the room. "I came, because Director-General Raveem here was so kind as to warn me that you were in danger! But I see no threat to you here" Her voice grew cold, its melodies wove from their usual formality into something more potent, commanding and condemnatory. "I do see a great many vultures! I look about me and see" she turned her head now eying some Moff's "The weak" her gaze leveled to several others and two Generals "The feckless" again her eyes shifted towards those born of lower class "The Help"
And then she turned to Sate Pestage "And the absurd" she spoke the last part loudly, her voice echoed through the room in challenge.
But she wasn't so provincial as to challenge his authority, no as far as she was concerned the matter of his right to rule was decided, her inflection made it clear she was hitting him low and outright questioning his mental capacities. As if to say he was too cognitively impaired to rule more than a tablet and some coloring lazers and perhaps a toy speeder or two.
Pestage's Folly
For the briefest of moments the woman went silent, her eyes flickering at the mention of the Bothan's clan name and things began to fall into place. He'd played her, not for his benefit entirely, though it was clear he derived a great deal of amusement from her reaction. His mind erratic as it was spoke for an order in the chaos and Miryia declined to probe further, not wanting to risk what almost always happened when she tried to read the minds of the uninitiated (and even some who were) into the mysteries of force craft. She laughed, it might have been the only genuine laugh she'd laughed in a long age. "Vas'Ah, I begin to understand why you're among the few nonhumans in Imperial leadership" she inclined her head to the side, as if acknowledging his game and she straightened slightly, a serpent infurling its hood so that one who earned the right to gaze might get a better look. "I knew your clan, not entirely personally, but your reputation was well earned before the Thousand years war." As a Padawan both her and her master were assigned to protect a Bothan Senator of that clan, his rhetoric and his relentlessness against his political enemies had admittedly inspired some of her later movements against the Sith.
As phasma was introduced and bowed, the Arkanian's smile constricted into a smirk. "You've trained this one well, though I thought she was a product of our genetic engineering until I came close enough to take in her scent, she's baseline human..Albeit remarkable for the ordinary." It was then the topic shifted to Pestage and Miryia's eyes grew slightly harder, she'd planned on accusing him of knowing there was a forged relic and sending them out to die. It was a good line to lead with if predictable, but perhaps he opened additional doors? And other vectors? His eyes seemed to catch what she was thinking, ever a student of body language were Bothans as it was their way to know how to manipulate the people they wished to manipulate. Knowing this she allowed a nod in confirmation and opted not to debase his intelligence by lying to him but to lead with the truth and her own insights. "I am the only one who can refute the lies that wrinkled, prune of a malcontented reprobate is likely spinning to cover for the fact that he sent the remnants of the Five Hundred and First, Admiral Karius and myself out there under escorted because he expected it would be depressingly easy to abscond with the Holocron. And if by mischance a fleet of terrorist trash from Alliance space entered our vicinity, well it was no loss." To say nothing, she thought; of the fact that both he and that aged, chandrillan tart were both made to look absolutely foolish by whomever among the three who arrived that had truly stolen the holocron.
The Rebels looked worse, for it was on their watch the fraud took place, for after hearing what the bartender said she knew they had the genuine article once before. "Walk with me, if that diseased, hoodrat and his flock of garbage eaters believe they can use this to deprive the Remnant of proper soldiers and deny me then they are fools far more deserving of a beating than that wretched beast you sent to retrieve me is..."
Miryia moved forward, the fabric trailing around and behind her giving the impression she slithered more than walked. One of her hands twitched, she'd held herself in check and played the dutiful subordinate for far too long and it was clear she was chafing on her self imposed chains.
Making it clear she wanted blood.
She'd nearly flown up the steps and made it halfway through the great hall of the Senate building before the other two caught up to her. Before them several Stormtroopers in crimson motioned to stop her "sorry Master Janus, we were given orders that only the director and his...." the trooper stopped talking the moment his gaze fell on the Arkanian's, the hall seemed to grow smaller around him, the air stuffy and took a breath "Are you his guest?"
A slight nod was all the confirmation he needed to justify giving into the terror he began to feel and the doors opened. To the guards surprise, Miryia allowed Raveem to enter beside her, the only an inch or so of space ahead of him, which was an odd thing. In the two months that she'd attended these meetings she allowed none of her escorts or those who were part of the meetings but walked in with her to be fewer than ten paces behind her.
As they moved closer to the archway leading to the former Senate chamber where they gathered before entering the main Senate Hall, she could hear the bickering already and laughed derisively. The pathetic scavengers didn't even have enough of to fill a qaurter of the Senate chamber and so bartered and bickered like back alley thugs haggling over spice prices, the sterility of prostitutes or the availability of Deathsticks.
And soon a new sound emerged over the fray, her contemptuous laughter that rose like a hiss, brimming with venom and a sort of madness that many wrote about but few understood.
"Ah, Admiral Karius!" Grand Admirals Grant and Tigellinus, who looked like they would rather be attending one of the balls going on in orbit at one of the Sky palaces finally perked up as the odd trio entered. Miryia threw her arms open in a cross like manner, her cloak flowing behind her, casting a hooded shadow about the room. "I came, because Director-General Raveem here was so kind as to warn me that you were in danger! But I see no threat to you here" Her voice grew cold, its melodies wove from their usual formality into something more potent, commanding and condemnatory. "I do see a great many vultures! I look about me and see" she turned her head now eying some Moff's "The weak" her gaze leveled to several others and two Generals "The feckless" again her eyes shifted towards those born of lower class "The Help"
And then she turned to Sate Pestage "And the absurd" she spoke the last part loudly, her voice echoed through the room in challenge.
But she wasn't so provincial as to challenge his authority, no as far as she was concerned the matter of his right to rule was decided, her inflection made it clear she was hitting him low and outright questioning his mental capacities. As if to say he was too cognitively impaired to rule more than a tablet and some coloring lazers and perhaps a toy speeder or two.
A Serpent Among the buzzards.
Coruscant
"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.
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.
Pestage's Folly
Coruscant
"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.
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.
Coruscant
"Your guests have made use of the water gardens while you rested, mistress" The pleasing tone of D-3PO, the blue and silver plated protocol droid announced, he'd come through the courtyard walking through the former Presidential apartments until it reached the bathing quarters of the principle room. The synth marble on the floors and the cavernous size of the estate combined to create a cacophony of whirring, chiming servos as the droid made its way across the building granting her more than sufficient warning. Even with her head below the warm water, she could not fail to take note of the familiar sounds. By the time the droid arrived, she'd been standing between two sonic dryers which removed not only the water from her form but scrubbed away any residual dirt or debris particles that the sentient availing themselves of the bathing facilities might have missed. Behind the droid, two Twi'liks, twins, a brother and a sister roughly fifteen years of age stood at either end of the stairs leading into the grand bath. Another present from Sate Pestage, figuring she could sate her carnal urges on one or either of the pair. It was a disgusting thought, as if she was some mindless Sith who couldn't help control her baser impulses. Still, when she questioned the boy, he spoke well enough, the girl was dutiful and attentive and the pair knew how to armor a sentient without needing to be trained and they were obedient. And so, she opted to keep them on as house slaves, assisting the army of droids that tended to the sprawling palace of the Conchords, an estate that once belonged to the Grand Chancellors of the Republic, who lived in these vast and nigh timeless halls until the Presidential palace, the behemoth of a megastructure that was now called the Imperial Palace (where the arrogant fool GRand Vizier lived). The guests the Droid was referring too had been several members of the five hundred and first that had been assigned as her protective duty by Captain Cardinal who with the death of the entirety of the 501sts command structure became the highest ranking officer. It was his way of swearing fealty, promising her that the Legion once feared throughout the Galaxy would serve her in return for the dignity she'd help them recapture. She planned to do more than assuage the wounded pride of what was left though, in time the woman planned to fully reconstitute the 501st, but she would make some changes, chiefly they would no longer be purely humans and leftover clones but xenos as well and she would ensure their loyalty oath included a line declaring their loyalty to her as well as to the Empire.
"Late was the hour in which we returned to the capital, they have earned their rest, let them sun in the garden and drink and eat and nap in the artificial sun" Besides, she thought once the woman was done the Twi'liks handed her a shimmer silk robe and followed her as she began to walk through one of the Myriad great halls. "An Uncle of mine lived here when I was a child" she remarked to no one in particular, only laughing when one of the Twins gave her a quizzical look, naturally they'd heard she'd slept for a long time, that she was from a different era but it was moments like this when they realized it hadn't been rumor that made her feel truly ancient. "Ah, is my slave curious? Very well, I shall indulge you. At the time, the Republic had both a Grand Chancellor and a Vice Chancellor, the one who was second lived here, my uncle was that man in my mouth" The Grand Chancellor had been her grandmother but she had little interest in dating herself in front of a pair of slaves. her feet almost glided across the synth marble as she made her way from the grand halls to her personal chambers. Late bad been the hour indeed and Sate Pestage was on her mind as they returned, for while they had been sent out to find a counterfeit only the comms officers had seemed disheartened. The mood within the Intrepid was one of celebration as victorious spirits once again stirred within the hearts of the remnants of the Five Hundred and First. "Shall I inform them of your departure" The droid asked, again reminder her that she had scheduled a transport to the old Senate building, where the Council of Moffs was now in session, conveyed in secret (or what Pestage believed was secret), he was evidently utterly livid about the alleged incompetence of Admiral Karius and his "failure" to obtain a proper holocron, no doubt he was also hurling invectives about regarding her and her utility. The skies above Coruscant rumbled and she could sense the tides of history ebbing about her and as she was dressed by her slaves, Miryia's mind wandered back to that night, twenty one hundred years ago when she butchered much of the Jedi council and framed the Sith. That evening, she'd shed the blood of friends for the sake of a Galaxy unchained from stagnation, tonight she fully intended to set events in motion that would utterly unmake the Grand Vizier and leave him and that council of gaggling invalids at her mercy.
"Who among them has responded to my messages?" She asked, her voice sounded slightly edged, while melodious and formal as always there seemed to be a trace of venom in it. "The Grand Admiral Octavian Grant, Admiral Karius of course, Admiral Gilad Pellaeon and" the droid was cut off by a wave of her hand, the rest were irrelevant, she'd sent out a dozen overtures, but only three interested her due to the nature of the men in question and the skill they commanded both in their own intellect and those under their services. If they were at least interested in her overtures than it opened the doors, she'd planned on this being a year long operation the force however, she would find had other plans. The armor she wore today was a tad different, it was smooth and made of Mandalorian iron unlike her usual durasteel breast plate, her usual purple cloak was swapped out for one ornately woven and formal, it shimmered in the flickering lights of the brazier like fixtures that always seemed to dance in her presence. The twins slid a pair of gloves over her hands, she seldom wore but this time she saw the merit, she wanted to go there in full regalia, looking less like a humiliated servant and more like a prelate being dispatched to restore order. About her finger, the crimson kyber crystal at the center glowed as if it sensed a storm in the air. Miryia ordered the twins and D to attend to the members of Vader's fist as though they were foreign dignitaries and that she expected to return in two hours time.
The Aurodium engraved Lightsaber that belonged to a Jedi Master, rose from its place of rest on a small stand at the rooms rear and flew into her belt and she departed in silence making her way for the speeder platform where she beheld two terrified members of the regular army standing outside a luxury speeder, in front of them was an Imperial Inquisitor, one of the sad remnants of the Jedi Service corps turned into a darkside adept and set loose into the Galaxy to hunt her betters. Miryia's purple eyes flickered and the Inquisitor stood her ground but her leg involuntarily twitched. "You've been summoned..Master...Janus" the woman had to be close to thirty but the fear in her voice was of a child's. That didn't surprise Miryia, for when she awoke she'd been surrounded by inquisitors, she mistook them for Sith slaves and butchered them all, all save the woman-child, who took a powerful blow to the face that had popped her eye out, an eye that was replaced with a cybernetic implant. There was another of these so called "Darkside adepts" she'd left alive, but he tried to sense her thoughts and Miryia destroyed his personality utterly, leaving him little more than a five foot infant. She'd heard he'd lapsed into a coma after a series of strokes, that he would probably die as he lived, ignorant of the wider Galaxy and covered in his own filth.
"Pestage sends you to summon me"
"It's, it's not him Master, its someone else" Miryia raised an eyebrow but entered the speeder any way, now that was interesting. Who was arrogant enough to presume to summon her amid that rabble? Had it been Karius he simply would have told her to arrive at a set time beforehand, had it been any of the others they'd have made more of a show of it. As the Speeder raced towards their destination at the old Imperial Senate building the shadow of the now utterly abandoned and isolated Jedi Temple rose in the failing sun.
And above it, the cathedral like palace of the Last Lord of the Sith.
"Your guests have made use of the water gardens while you rested, mistress" The pleasing tone of D-3PO, the blue and silver plated protocol droid announced, he'd come through the courtyard walking through the former Presidential apartments until it reached the bathing quarters of the principle room. The synth marble on the floors and the cavernous size of the estate combined to create a cacophony of whirring, chiming servos as the droid made its way across the building granting her more than sufficient warning. Even with her head below the warm water, she could not fail to take note of the familiar sounds. By the time the droid arrived, she'd been standing between two sonic dryers which removed not only the water from her form but scrubbed away any residual dirt or debris particles that the sentient availing themselves of the bathing facilities might have missed. Behind the droid, two Twi'liks, twins, a brother and a sister roughly fifteen years of age stood at either end of the stairs leading into the grand bath. Another present from Sate Pestage, figuring she could sate her carnal urges on one or either of the pair. It was a disgusting thought, as if she was some mindless Sith who couldn't help control her baser impulses. Still, when she questioned the boy, he spoke well enough, the girl was dutiful and attentive and the pair knew how to armor a sentient without needing to be trained and they were obedient. And so, she opted to keep them on as house slaves, assisting the army of droids that tended to the sprawling palace of the Conchords, an estate that once belonged to the Grand Chancellors of the Republic, who lived in these vast and nigh timeless halls until the Presidential palace, the behemoth of a megastructure that was now called the Imperial Palace (where the arrogant fool GRand Vizier lived). The guests the Droid was referring too had been several members of the five hundred and first that had been assigned as her protective duty by Captain Cardinal who with the death of the entirety of the 501sts command structure became the highest ranking officer. It was his way of swearing fealty, promising her that the Legion once feared throughout the Galaxy would serve her in return for the dignity she'd help them recapture. She planned to do more than assuage the wounded pride of what was left though, in time the woman planned to fully reconstitute the 501st, but she would make some changes, chiefly they would no longer be purely humans and leftover clones but xenos as well and she would ensure their loyalty oath included a line declaring their loyalty to her as well as to the Empire.
"Late was the hour in which we returned to the capital, they have earned their rest, let them sun in the garden and drink and eat and nap in the artificial sun" Besides, she thought once the woman was done the Twi'liks handed her a shimmer silk robe and followed her as she began to walk through one of the Myriad great halls. "An Uncle of mine lived here when I was a child" she remarked to no one in particular, only laughing when one of the Twins gave her a quizzical look, naturally they'd heard she'd slept for a long time, that she was from a different era but it was moments like this when they realized it hadn't been rumor that made her feel truly ancient. "Ah, is my slave curious? Very well, I shall indulge you. At the time, the Republic had both a Grand Chancellor and a Vice Chancellor, the one who was second lived here, my uncle was that man in my mouth" The Grand Chancellor had been her grandmother but she had little interest in dating herself in front of a pair of slaves. her feet almost glided across the synth marble as she made her way from the grand halls to her personal chambers. Late bad been the hour indeed and Sate Pestage was on her mind as they returned, for while they had been sent out to find a counterfeit only the comms officers had seemed disheartened. The mood within the Intrepid was one of celebration as victorious spirits once again stirred within the hearts of the remnants of the Five Hundred and First. "Shall I inform them of your departure" The droid asked, again reminder her that she had scheduled a transport to the old Senate building, where the Council of Moffs was now in session, conveyed in secret (or what Pestage believed was secret), he was evidently utterly livid about the alleged incompetence of Admiral Karius and his "failure" to obtain a proper holocron, no doubt he was also hurling invectives about regarding her and her utility. The skies above Coruscant rumbled and she could sense the tides of history ebbing about her and as she was dressed by her slaves, Miryia's mind wandered back to that night, twenty one hundred years ago when she butchered much of the Jedi council and framed the Sith. That evening, she'd shed the blood of friends for the sake of a Galaxy unchained from stagnation, tonight she fully intended to set events in motion that would utterly unmake the Grand Vizier and leave him and that council of gaggling invalids at her mercy.
"Who among them has responded to my messages?" She asked, her voice sounded slightly edged, while melodious and formal as always there seemed to be a trace of venom in it. "The Grand Admiral Octavian Grant, Admiral Karius of course, Admiral Gilad Pellaeon and" the droid was cut off by a wave of her hand, the rest were irrelevant, she'd sent out a dozen overtures, but only three interested her due to the nature of the men in question and the skill they commanded both in their own intellect and those under their services. If they were at least interested in her overtures than it opened the doors, she'd planned on this being a year long operation the force however, she would find had other plans. The armor she wore today was a tad different, it was smooth and made of Mandalorian iron unlike her usual durasteel breast plate, her usual purple cloak was swapped out for one ornately woven and formal, it shimmered in the flickering lights of the brazier like fixtures that always seemed to dance in her presence. The twins slid a pair of gloves over her hands, she seldom wore but this time she saw the merit, she wanted to go there in full regalia, looking less like a humiliated servant and more like a prelate being dispatched to restore order. About her finger, the crimson kyber crystal at the center glowed as if it sensed a storm in the air. Miryia ordered the twins and D to attend to the members of Vader's fist as though they were foreign dignitaries and that she expected to return in two hours time.
The Aurodium engraved Lightsaber that belonged to a Jedi Master, rose from its place of rest on a small stand at the rooms rear and flew into her belt and she departed in silence making her way for the speeder platform where she beheld two terrified members of the regular army standing outside a luxury speeder, in front of them was an Imperial Inquisitor, one of the sad remnants of the Jedi Service corps turned into a darkside adept and set loose into the Galaxy to hunt her betters. Miryia's purple eyes flickered and the Inquisitor stood her ground but her leg involuntarily twitched. "You've been summoned..Master...Janus" the woman had to be close to thirty but the fear in her voice was of a child's. That didn't surprise Miryia, for when she awoke she'd been surrounded by inquisitors, she mistook them for Sith slaves and butchered them all, all save the woman-child, who took a powerful blow to the face that had popped her eye out, an eye that was replaced with a cybernetic implant. There was another of these so called "Darkside adepts" she'd left alive, but he tried to sense her thoughts and Miryia destroyed his personality utterly, leaving him little more than a five foot infant. She'd heard he'd lapsed into a coma after a series of strokes, that he would probably die as he lived, ignorant of the wider Galaxy and covered in his own filth.
"Pestage sends you to summon me"
"It's, it's not him Master, its someone else" Miryia raised an eyebrow but entered the speeder any way, now that was interesting. Who was arrogant enough to presume to summon her amid that rabble? Had it been Karius he simply would have told her to arrive at a set time beforehand, had it been any of the others they'd have made more of a show of it. As the Speeder raced towards their destination at the old Imperial Senate building the shadow of the now utterly abandoned and isolated Jedi Temple rose in the failing sun.
And above it, the cathedral like palace of the Last Lord of the Sith.
Thanks gents!
So we have two Echani mutts and a Wookie?
This'll be fun.
This'll be fun.
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