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Thread: Daughter of the Empire: Dancing with Sin [Complete]

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    Imp Daughter of the Empire: Dancing with Sin [Complete]

    Imperial Palace, Imperial center

    The Grand Corridor had changed little since the reign of Palpatine. His favored Ch'hala trees still lined either side, changing colors with each minute vibration of sound that passed over its sensitive leaves. Normally the corridor was opened to the public with fresh cafes and exotic beverage stands, while admiring the view of Coruscant through red stain glass windows four stories high. A row of chandeliers hung above, barely swaying for not much stirred below.

    The corridor had been transformed to seat several hundred. Polished handcrafted benches cut from ancient wroshyr trees seated honored guests representing the Imperial military, local and galactic governors, and of course trusted friends and family. They were to lay witness to another historic event - the wedding of Empress Miranda Tarkin and Baron Gallus Tagge.

    Flowers and streamers wove together, connecting the benches along the outside, with red carpet lying in between. The Grand Doorway was carved out of the same material as the palace itself, mirror crystals and polish green rock that shimmered within the candle light that softened the mood of this blessed occasion. Especially with the dozens of Stormtroopers and ceremonial clad Inquisitors present for security. Standing before the ornate doors and upon the last step stood Governor Adlein Endolmir, Moff of Coruscant. The Clone Wars had taken its toll upon Endolmir. He had lost the sight from his left eye and his hand had been scarred so badly that bacta couldn't heal it completely. Black leather gloved his deformity, but he was a man that accepted his duty and the sacrifices it would entail. He fought for order and stability under Palpatine, and would now do so under Tarkin's granddaughter. She would be able to keep the systems in line through fear and respect. He only hoped she would not make the same mistakes as the Grand Moff, thinking that she was untouchable ...

    His aged features lined with genuine compassion as he regarded the two young adults kneeling before him. Today was a day of celebration. Not of worries.

    To his right knelt Miranda, her hair braided in the traditional Coruscanti way, a long white ribbon intricately woven throughout her hair. It was the only thing keeping her tied up and would remain as such until Gallus would remove it, as was his right as husband.

    All eyes were mainly fixated upon their new Empress, who was stunning in her wedding dress. Shoulders bare, the snow white dress cupped her bosom snugly as two folds of cloth overlapped one another across her abdomen almost like a half robe. The rest of the dress billowed out along her hips to the long train of cloth in back. It was simple, yet elegant. Her face was veiled in translucent white, humbly bowed as Endolmir recited the Doctrine of Marriage.

    "Marriage is a scared commitment. One that these two honored citizens of our great Empire are willing to make before you this day. They pledge themselves in devotion to one another in mind, flesh and spirit. I beseech you now."

    On cue, Miranda and Gallus reached out and laced their fingers together at arms length. It was a symbol that their union had yet to be approved and their love for one another was just barely within arms reach in the eyes of the Imperium.

    To Miranda's left stood Lise Tarkin, her mother, blinking away tears of pride at her daughter's marriage and ascension. But there was a touch of sadness that haunted her eyes. A sadness that only Miranda and the woman standing next to her were aware of. Sorsha brought an arm around Lise for comfort, squeezing her gently so their heads could meet.

    "Baron Gallus Tagge, repeat after me ..." It was his signal to look upon Miranda. "I Gallus Tagge offer you myself in marriage as written in the Doctrines. I pledge my life, loyalty, honesty, and love in all the days of our lives. Only in death, shall our ties be broken."
    Last edited by Miranda Tarkin; Jun 19th, 2009 at 09:19:08 AM.

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    Though he was no stranger to pomp and ceremony, there was something about the sacrosanct union of marriage that inspired in Gallus Tagge a certain anxiety, a nervous excitement. He felt the eyes of hundreds of men and women upon him, and doubtless thousands upon thousands more besides who would witness the wedding via holonet transmission. Yet, although his stomach was doing somersaults, when his time came to look to Miranda and speak the words of the Doctrine, there was nothing but strength and love in his voice.

    “I, Gallus Tagge, offer you myself in marriage as written in the Doctrines. I pledge my life, loyalty, honesty, and love in all the days of our lives. Only in death, shall our ties be broken.”

    Words spoke with truth, that much was certain. Though they were not in love, there was nonetheless a passion between the Empress and her husband to be – a desire to see each others ambitions fulfilled, a longing for a shared vision of the future. When Miranda gazed back into his eyes, he felt a swell of pride, knowing what the two of them would surely accomplish together...
    Last edited by Miranda Tarkin; Jan 27th, 2009 at 04:36:12 PM.

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    Nearest at hand to the bridal couple were members of House Tarkin and House Tagge. Neither family was large, an unfortunate side-effect of being embroiled so deeply as they with with politics and war. To represent the family of the groom, there was only one other living member of House Tagge.

    A profound and inexplicable sense of loss gnawed at Sanya Tagge as she watched her brother join hands with the Empress. In all the galaxy, they two were her closest friends and at that moment she knew that it should have been joy which consumed her heart, but it was not – and the most maddening thing was that she didn't understand why. The thought of Gallus and Miranda together inspired such bitter spite in her, such petty malice, that she hated herself for feeling so vindictive; it was not flattering and it certainly was not proper.

    Fortunately, the Minister of Truth was much accustomed to concealing the inner-workings of her mind and heart from the world and to all those who looked upon her at that moment, there would be no guessing what turmoil lay within. She even offered a smile to Lise Tarkin and Sorsha Kasajian.

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    Sorsha Kasajian
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    :: Sorsha smiled back, but inside, she could feel the void growing, separating her from Miranda. Her ascension to Empress was bittersweet. Nevertheless, Sorsha would serve her til death, and she repeated the wedding vow in her mind as the ceremony was carried out. No one would ever know ::

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    Lise stopped herself from sniffing back the tears because even the slightest of noises would echo across the great hallway and reached every ear. They wanted to hear Miranda and Gallus exchange vows, not listen to a woman still stung in grief over what had happened to Miranda and Navaria on Doldur. The potential of loosing Miranda was just as unbearable as knowing the horrid Inquisitors were scouring the galaxy for her other daughter. It came as to some comfort, and surprise, that it was Miranda that ordered her sister be brought in alive, but she was an Imperial wife. Lise knew that far too often accidents happened and feared for Navaria's safety, but the fear of the new Empress' retribution was a more potent threat to be taken seriously.

    She had thought when Miranda learned the truth it would have driven a wedge between them, but it actually strengthened their bond. Her daughter was excited that there was another Tarkin alive - a direct relative! The only issue that bothered Lise about this knowledge was Miranda's unadulterated loathing of Force Users. She hated them deeply because of what they did to their family, and now Miranda knew she had that potential too. They needed to talk further but with her ascension and marriage to Gallus, it had been shoved aside for later.

    A conversation she dreaded, but for now, unshed tears falsely demonstrated happiness in part and tried to remain focused on the present ceremony.
    Last edited by Lise Tarkin; Feb 8th, 2009 at 12:53:02 AM.

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    Miranda tightened her grip against Gallus' hand and returned his smile as Governor Endolmir repeated the vows of the Doctrine for his Empress to recite.

    “And now, your Majesty, repeat after me. I, Miranda Tarkin, offer you myself in marriage as written in the Doctrines. I pledge my life, loyalty, honesty, and love in all the days of our lives. Only in death, shall our ties be broken.”

    She spoke the vows with conviction, mirroring the deep sense of pride and commitment shining in Gallus' eyes. The two of them were going to mold the galaxy into something extraordinary, something that would last for generations to come! Miranda couldn't thank him enough for agreeing to this marriage. He had sacrificed so much of his future to be at her side to secure the throne.

    “I, Miranda Tarkin, offer you myself in marriage as written in the Doctrines. I pledge my life, loyalty, honesty, and love in all the days of our lives. Only in death, shall our ties be broken.”

    Satisfied that the vows had been spoken, Governor Endolmir waved Sorsha forth. "The rings, if you will."
    Last edited by Miranda Tarkin; Jan 28th, 2009 at 12:13:23 AM.

  7. #7
    Sorsha Kasajian
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    :: Sorsha stepped forward ...

    ... and slashed the throat of Governor Endolmir. He gurgled, clutching his throat as his blood sprayed upwards in a fountain that painted the high ceiling red. She was moving forward as he fell to his knees in astonishment. Screams from the wedding party filled the room, and one by one, she began slaying them. She became unstoppable, a shadow of death as she cut through the assembled crowd. Nothing would quell the pain she felt. The injustice of this union was nothing less than a heresy designed to mock her. To deprive her. To make her suffer. For that, they would all pay with their blood. With their very lives. Crimson Guard and Inquisatoriate alike would sleep in hell.

    The massacre became a dance. Beatiful and Horrible to behold. Her blade flashing as she moved from person to person. Valten, Rossos, Yeart, Kraken ... all of them twisting like puppets as they died. She saved Sanya for the last, kissing her deeply and ripping out her tongue before carving her up like a holiday fawn. She was so sweet.
    ... and presented the rings. They were elegant and finely crafted bands of gold, with perfect gems set in the center. A tear fell from her eye as she smiled at Miranda. Her best friend, soulmate, and now her Empress. She was beautiful ::
    Last edited by Sorsha Kasajian; Jan 27th, 2009 at 06:11:03 PM.

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    Miranda touched her free hand to Sorsha's, unaware of such despicable hatred dripping from within her mind. Usually she could sense such things coming from her lover, but her mind was too wrapped up with the wedding and affairs of state to notice.

    She squeezed Sorsha's hand and plucked the ring made for Gallus. The vows were his to speak first, and now Miranda led the exchange of rings. She released her grip upon his left hand, clasping it gently within her right. With no prompting from Endolmir, she began. "Behold our symbol of wedlock. The unbroken circle of union between our souls. I give this unto you as a testament of faithfulness, compassion and love."

    With the last word spoken, Miranda slipped the wedding ring on Gallus' finger.
    Last edited by Miranda Tarkin; Jan 28th, 2009 at 12:14:08 AM.

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    It was with a steady hand – a surprise even to Gallus himself, considering the butterflies in his stomach – that the Baron Tagge returned the ceremonial gesture, carefully slipping an identical ring on Miranda's finger. As he did so, he echoed her vows and felt the smile he wore growing, unashamedly, into a grin.

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    Satisfied, Moff Endolmir motioned for the couple to rise. As his hands rose slowly, Gallus and Miranda did likewise and turned to face the assembled. "It is not only my duty, but my pleasure to pronounce this couple as husband and wife. I introduce to those honored assembled Empress Miranda Tarkin-Tagge and Baron Gallus Tagge."

    He stepped forward and placed a fatherly hand upon their shoulders and smiled down at Miranda before his gaze fell upon Gallus, "You may now kiss the bride."

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    As he moved to lift the gossamer-thin veil from his bride's face, Gallus thought he saw Miranda smiling impishly behind it. It was contagious, that smile, though both husband and wife took on a more wistful look as the veil was drawn away. Though there love wasn't the same as that which might have been expected of newly weds, it was clear they cared deeply for one another and that, after all, was the strongest foundation a marriage could have.

    One hand at the small of Miranda's back brought her gently closer to her husband, whilst the other cupped her cheek and turned her lips upwards to be claimed in a kiss. Within seconds, the congregation was alive with applause and gladness, their happiness mirrored in the blushing smiles of both groom and bride.

    With the ceremony concluded, it was time to celebrate! The guests and bridal parties were lead to where the reception would take place, where food and drinks were in seemingly endless supply. A string quartet was on hand to provide music both lively and sentimental, having just concluded what was the bride and groom's first dance together. As their song drew to a close, accompanied by yet more applause, Miranda lifted her head from Gallus's shoulder and the pair shared another speechless, giddy grin.

  12. #12
    "It's time." The voice came through ruffled by static but crisp enough to hear the stale taste of indifference in the command. He moved through the jingling prance of the crowd. Their voices heightened with excitement. Sticky fingers pinching tidbits of appetizers which were tossed and eagerly choked down their begging gullets. His suit of black mingled easily through a gathering of men on the dance floor's edge. A barrier of drifting cigarra smoke clung with a wraith like hand to Rekoj as he past.

    Rekoj, Emissary of the Grand Inquisitor, gave his jaw an unsavory roll as if to flick something off his back teeth. The Inquisitors diffident stance betrayed his personal feelings regarding his attendance. Fingers lacking any social grace rubbed at his earpiece, a micro chip surgically embedded in his ear, which had just moments before relayed his last command. It had rang with uncomfortable feed back (not that anyone else besides him could hear it) when he was scanned for weapons upon entering the new Empresse's wedding celebration. Despite their excessive scanning they had failed to pick up on his exotic cuff links. The ends of which were extremely toxic if the tips pierced skin. The item was requested specifically for this lavish function on Imperial center.

    There she was, Miranda Tarkin, newly crowned and now newly wed, Empress of the Empire. She was beautiful, he thought almost reluctantly before stepping onto the dance floor. After the main couples first solitary dance the floor had broken up into several groups, mostly relatives but it wasn't long until the tempo of the music changed and many more joined for the dance of an Imperial Waltz. The dance was relatively slow but the motions were smooth and calculated reflecting its name sake. The woman would turn their heads to the right as if to look away, then reach out with her left hand while making a side step where a new partner would take her hand in his and embrace her close. The pair would then continue to the left in a leisurely three step counter clockwise spin. After, the dancers would raise their arms, for women it was their left and for men their right. They would match their elbows together forming a straight right angle with their fore arms pointed up and lock wrists keeping their palms flat and pointed up. Then, they would make another three step turn in the other direction. The dance would reset back to an embrace and they would continue until the tempo of music changed indicating a switch in partners. It was a relatively smooth and simple dance that was keen on form and authority with emphasis on predictive timing.

    Rekoj, like most inner core Imperial's, knew the dance well and made a customary bow before slipping in at the opportune change of tempo. A Sector Moffs daughter was his first partner. Likely outer rim trash he sneered to himself behind a visible mask of indifference. She was nearly tripping over her own feet although her inexperienced was prized asset he quickly took to his advantage. Managing to nimbly guide them to Miranda's left the assassin's shoulders tensed like a predator readying a pounce on unsuspecting prey. But it wasn't his job to kill her, he was merely the messenger here to make a delivery. To pass his weapon to another serpent that was making its slithering way through the dancing crowd.

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    Her hand fell easily into his and the dance continued with the acceptance of flesh. Miranda took a smooth step left, and with the sensation of her accepted hand being raised above her she spun into the waiting arm of her new partner. His head had been bowed in reverence hiding his features to her curious eyes. A strong right arm snaked its way to the small of her back pulling her close. While his left arm lifted hers to point toward the left settling her palm to rest flat on top of his own. Then he rose, his eyes still cast down, but a gentle smile gave the tension at meeting a stranger some ease.

    It was proper etiquette for the man to introduce himself at the start of every dance. This was generally the time when partners would pay respects, greet, establishing rank and heritage, which would in turn decide who would lead. It was with a gasp of surprise that took Miranda when her new partner suddenly took lead without introducing himself or saying a single word.

    It was an odd sensation that fell over her body in the following moments. Her feet fell easily in rhythm with his and suddenly she found herself following the music rather then the steps destined by custom. The silence between them fell deeper filled with only the passion of the string band's allegro to entice them ever turning. With each slow spin they unknowingly made more of the world fall away. The wonderful blue of the sky dimmed to a dull lavender, the rest of the dancers faded into mere silhouettes like puppets on strings their movements became slow and rigid. Like being in the eye of a storm she could only watch as the world around them became leeched of color and life while the pair remained unchanged. The stranger continued to lead the dance seemingly blissfully unaware of their ever growing altered surroundings.

    Miranda felt something stir within her compelling her forward unable to peel her hands away weather it was by her own will or someone else's she couldn't be sure. Her heart began to race as this alien sensation continued to warp the fabric of her reality. Gone into the encroaching shadows her mother fell, her beloved Sorsha, her newly wed husband Gallus, and even her childhood friend Sanya, until all that remained was herself and this man who danced with closed eyes.

    She moved to speak, no to demand, what was happening but her lips remain tied and it the man who asked a question instead.

    "Is it everything you dreamed it would be?" It was a vague question but somehow his voice carried a meaning that struck her. Her faltering relationship with Sorsha was a price she was beginning to pay as Empress. The dealings with the Inquisitoriate, had she become the leader of the Empire or an unknowing puppet of Valtens? The sudden existence of a sister, a jedi no less, that had been kept secret by her mother for so very long. The loss of her father. Her wedding day and coronation, was any of it how she pictured things to be when she was a child?

    It was then he opened his eyes, searing orange, they looked into her at the same time igniting the world around them. Color roared back into its proper places and shadows were flushed from the faces of her friends and family. With the return of her reality the haze of sensations and imagery began to flee immediately like some whispered memory. When the tingling sensation left her it was replaced by a dryness the crept up the back of her throat like an addict with a craving.

    Miranda unexpectedly found herself with an arm stretched out to her left, her gaze off to the right again as their dance ended. Her left hand flinched under the touch of another a small stinging sensation originating from the tip of her finger. It had never occurred to her, until the newest dancing partner mentioned the tip of her finger was bleeding, how much trust it took to take part in this Imperial Waltz. To look away with an inviting hand while not knowing what might reach out from the dark to clutch it.
    Last edited by Tear; Feb 16th, 2009 at 07:39:08 PM. Reason: Rusty writing, fixing mistakes blargh.

  14. #14
    Sorsha Kasajian
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    "You may now kiss the bride."

    The blasphemy of Endolmir's pronouncement burned Sorsha's ears. It would never be forgiven. She watched the kiss with dead calm as the rest of the wedding guests cheered and applauded the moment. It marked the beginning of a new age, but it was worth than death for Sorsha.

    "... long live the empire." she murmured to herself beneath the din. Soon the dancing would commence. The posturing of Imperial pigs and the prattling of their harpy wives. It was going to be a Very Long Night.

    She needed a drink, and slipped into the background hoping she'd remain unoticed.

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    Completely unawares of her daughter's dancing partner was during those last two rotations, Lise found herself in the arms of her son-in-law, Gallus Tagge!

    "Well this is a pleasant surprise, but I figured that our chances of meeting on the dance floor were pretty high," she smiled pleasantly and genuinely. He was the perfect distraction to her troubled mind.

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    She glanced down at the small blob of blood that pooled at the tip of her finger with a bitter gaze. Quickly her head shot up like a snake, swaying back and forth between her partners head to find the man with the orange eyes once more, the obvious cause of this injury.

    "Here your Majesty." Colonel Dollend, a young brutish soldier of the Empire, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it over her finger before any of the blood could drip down and ruin her immaculate dress. A casual observer noticed no change in their steps or any discourse. Just that the Empress took an offered token of thanks as a partner in this Imperial Waltz.

    "Thank you, Colonel," she said, forcing a smile of gratitude, but her mind was racing. When had that pin prick occur? And was it the source of the strange sensations that had washed over her during the dance with him? She didn't feel sick to her stomach, and there were no auditory or visual disturbances like before, but there was no mistaking how surreal that entire experience was, or how familiar that it felt. Like she should know what had occurred and the answer was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite grasp onto the concept.

    As Dollend whisked her into a turn, her mind turned to the only spoken words that her partner had actually spoke:

    "Is it everything you dreamed it would be?"

    In some ways, it was. She was the most powerful woman in all of the galaxy. Something that was inconceivable to imagine that a woman could hold such a position and keep the Empire together in some cohesive fashion. However, she was not a fool. Miranda realized quite well that there were underhanded plots that had yet to be revealed. There were certain attacks coming her way, whether with political words or an actual turbo laster remained to be seen. Deception and corruption were well implanted within the Empire long before she rose to power as a Moff after Palpatine's death and the whisper of Civil War had not been silenced. Then again, was the young Empress a pawn of the Inquisitors and had played up her sense of duty and legacy to groom her into puppet figurehead? The thought had crossed her mind ...

    And what of her sister? A Jedi sister! The thought intrigued and disgusted her at the same time, even with understanding the reasons behind her parents decision to smuggle a young Navaria off Coruscant and into the hands of a Jedi. If she were allowed to stay, would both of them allowed to be remain alive? Or would they have been secretly taken away from their family and serve the Emperor without having a say in what direction their lives would have led them?

    Regardless of the what ifs, Miranda wanted her sister found. The desire of expanding her family was strong seeing as how little of it remained. Another Tarkin alive that could possibly be turned away from the lies of the Rebellion and false religion was compelling.

    "Are you all right, your Majesty? You seem... distant?" asked the bold Colonel.

    Miranda managed a serpentine smile. "Of course. I get lost in the music quite easily. It's enchanting."

    Young Dollend beamed, "I completely understand, especially on a day like today."

    That actually caused a genuine smile to form, but that fell into a baleful frown as she caught sight of Sorsha brooding in the back. It was like the dance floor opened up at the proper time for Miranda to witness such disgust coming from her lover and opened up searing wounds of regret in thinking she might make a suitable Hand. The decision brought nothing but contempt and a bitter rivalry between her and Valten. She was putting out more fires due to their butting heads then anything constructive coming out of her training ..

    Yet the dance ended once more by the shift in tempo. A new partner would be lucky enough to dance with their Empress, except this was no stranger! As soon as Miranda turned into the arms of her next partner she looked up into the piercing orange stare of the man who had shared her space two partners ago. It really came as no surprise that he found a way to slink his way back into her arms like some vulture. This time he would not submit her into silence!

    "What games are you playing at?" she said derisively, motioning to her covered hand with a curt nod. "Who are you?"

    Because you certainly know a lot about me ... and that notion offended her greatly.
    Last edited by Miranda Tarkin; Feb 20th, 2009 at 01:55:35 PM.

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    Tear leaned close to lock his arms firmly around her waist. Then, as if he she finished the punch line of a joke, he began to laugh. An infectiously warm laugh that Miranda couldn't help but think she had inadvertently said something funny. She tried to hide the confused smile that crept its way over her pink lips.

    "I am not what should be concerning you right now" They spun ever slowly, he lifting her from the dance floor during their whirl, startled she dropped the bloodied hankerchief. "It's what's about to happen to you that should be your concern."

    Tear kept his wicked smile as he watched Miranda feel the beginnings of the toxins effects. She would try to swallow at first because of a vile taste beginning to seep into her mouth. Then, when she realized she couldn't, her heart would begin to race only to skip a beat and thud laggardly.

    "Do you feel it now?" He asked sighting the flicker of panic in her eyes. She instinctively grabbed at his arms weakly attempting to break herself free of his embrace. "Next you'll begin to feel your chest become heavy. Your airways will begin to constrict..." As if on queue she sucked in a wheezing breath. Miranda's face immediately flushed red, her skin shimmering wetly with the cold sweat that now dotted over her body.

    "Im going to give you two choices." He whispered like a lover, ever so softly, into her ear. Miranda's hands trembled at his chest more from the adrenaline her heart was attempting to pump into her system then fear. "You can summon your remaining strength to excuse yourself from this lovely party, for a minute. Or, I can leave you here to die foaming at the mouth and gasping for air in front of friends and family."

    "Take your time. Think it over. I'm in no rush." Tear took her weakening hands in his while continuing to guide their dangerous dance. "This music is rather good."

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    Her head lobbed forward to rest against the stranger's chest as they spun and spun and spun around the dance floor, as if they were a young loving couple enjoying the last few beats of the rising tempo before the dance ended. It made her sick as hors d'œuvre and champagne churned, compounding the chills that shook her weakening body. Closing her eyes did nothing except make her eyes go wet with pain that blurred her vision of the party.

    What little strength she had left that had not been sapped was channeled in keeping up appearances. Their legs continued the waltz without missing a single step. She shook in sickness, but also in furor at being backed into a corner without any room to maneuver. There was no other choice then to give into his demands, but there was also a spark of curiosity. As much as she felt angered at this embarrassment, it was contained. Only she and this stranger knew what was happening. He risked much in such a blatant and public attack upon her person. Who was he? What did he want with her?

    And so the last note was played. All participants in the waltz stopped on cue, partners staring at each other, eye to eye with hands on hips and shoulders, a tight grip with their other hands outstretched and rigid.

    Applause erupted throughout hall with some audible cheering that almost seemed out of place, but already the reception was clamoring for the orchestra to start up the music once more.

    "Your Majesty?" Admiral Duskhal had already slithered into position to snatch up the next dance with the Empress. Already his smug face was to the floor in a bow. He was hoping to bring up polite discussion and insert his thoughts about the Rebellion. "May I?"

    "Perhaps in a moment," Miranda said, fanning her face with a fake smile to cover up just how out of sorts she was, but it turned spiteful once she glanced up at him. "My escort has taken the breath from me with that number! He certainly knows his way around the dance floor."

    Licking her lips, she slid to his side and entwined an arm around his before addressing Duskhal. "Next dance shall be yours, Admiral, but I need to quench my parched throat."

    Without another word, her orange eyed stranger turned her away and led her off the dance floor with a strong arm to steady her failing body. It took what strength that hadn't been sapped away for her Imperial Majesty to put on a perfect face that betrayed nothing ...
    Last edited by Miranda Tarkin; Feb 24th, 2009 at 08:41:45 PM.

  19. #19
    Sorsha Kasajian
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    Quote Originally Posted by Miranda Tarkin View Post
    That actually caused a genuine smile to form, but that fell into a baleful frown as she caught sight of Sorsha brooding in the back. It was like the dance floor opened up at the proper time for Miranda to witness such disgust coming from her lover and opened up searing wounds of regret in thinking she might make a suitable Hand. The decision brought nothing but contempt and a bitter rivalry between her and Valten. She was putting out more fires due to their butting heads then anything constructive coming out of her training ..
    By the time Miranda had laid eyes upon Sorsha, the harpy wives had already cornered her and done their emotional damage, heaping platitudes upon the newly wedded. It was fate, they cooed, that brought Tarkin & Tagge together as soulmates. That tonight was the most beautiful union they had ever seen. Her eye twitched.

    Then the dance floor parted, and she raised her head just in time to see the look on Miranda's face. It made her soul bleed.

    Miranda vanished back into the sea of dancing couples, and Sorsha took her leave. The harpies giggled at her departure.

    Things were going outrageously well for Tear tonight. With Sorsha out of the way, Miranda had no one to protect her from his desires. He was free to indulge his treachery upon her however he wished, and no one could do a thing to stop him. It was nothing less than glorious ::

  20. #20
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    "Oh, how beautifully archaic." Tear mused as he approached a cherry oak set of doors with twisting golden handles that spiraled out elaborately. Releasing Miranda with one arm she stumbled, her knees wobbling weakly, barely managing to keep herself standing. The Inquisitor paid her little mind as he reached out with both hands giving each polished handle a twist. He opened both sets of doors at once giving himself an extravagant entrance. A hard shove was given to Miranda, who this time, was unable to catch her footing and fell. The door closed with the authentic creak of aged wood effectively cutting the pair off from the rest of the party..

    The room matched the rest of the wedding, it was overly lavish. The furniture dripped with richness and style the likes of which many plebs would never glimpse. It looked to be a room for the higher up men to escape for a cigarra or brandy. Nimble fingers spread like a claw grasping a crystal glass, one of a pair, and held it up. It was empty.

    "You asked who I was?" Tear's fiery eyes flicked down to Miranda's struggling form as she crawled her way to the arm of nearby chair and climbed it. "I am an Inquisitor." Her glazing eyes responded with disbelief to that notion. The Inquisitors had been nothing but loyal allies in her bid for Empress.

    "Is it really so surprising? The Moffs. A list made in majority by one man. Did you even know those that he marked for death? Or did you just take his word for it? Never considering that these men while some, no doubt, would not approve of your bid for Empress would also not approve his bid for Emperor?" Tear reached to the side of the table letting a nearby, half filled, bottle of brandy drag loudly over the glass table where he poured it into the empty glass already in his hand.

    "Can you see it yet?" He turned to look at her. She had melted sickly into the cushions of a chair, her breathing was becoming slow and ragged, her eyes dim and dying but not surrendering. "The man behind it? Behind your assassination." The Inquisitor padded softly over the wooden flooring to bend over Miranda's shivering body.

    Then he whispered, his voice devilish and sweet, "Karl Valten ordered me to kill you."

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