Daughter of the Empire: Dancing with Sin [Complete]

[Miranda Tarkin]

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."

[Gallus Tagge]

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...

[Sanya Tagge]

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.

[Sorsha Kasajian]

:: 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 ::

[Lise Tarkin]

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.

[Miranda Tarkin]

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."

[Sorsha Kasajian]

:: 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 ::

[Miranda Tarkin]

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.

[Gallus Tagge]

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.

[Miranda Tarkin]

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."

[Gallus Tagge]

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.

[Rekoj]

"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.

[Tear]

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 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VSdrgxg5rBg) 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.

[Sorsha Kasajian]

"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.

[Lise Tarkin]

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.

[Miranda Tarkin]

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.

[Tear]

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."

[Miranda Tarkin]

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 ...

[Sorsha Kasajian]

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 ::

[Tear]

"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."

[Miranda Tarkin]

"Lies," Miranda did not speak out of fear but out of intuition. She only wished that her ragged breathing did not make her sound weak, but there was no mistaking the forced tone of defiance in her voice. "Valten has been nothing but loyal and I can smell the deceit on your tongue."

She felt drops of perspiration breaking free from her pale skin. It chilled her body to the bone. "As for the Moffs," she hissed, "They were traitors. Sided with Sevon for the throne. Few had thrown in with me, but corruption cannot be tolerated. It weakened this Empire."

Miranda had to scoot forward at the edge of the couch to sit up straight in order to expand her lungs. She fought back a retch, arm stretching outwards as she clung to life with a fight. She would not beg for her life, nor feed into his games of deception, asking why he wanted her dead. Miranda wouldn't allow this man any satisfaction for his pleasure.

[Tear]

"Is that so..." Tear smiled, raising the glass to his lips to take a light sip of the bronze liquid, "If these are all lies, then tell me Empress, who am I?" He watched her then, her hand still outstretched searching for salvation.

"Not all corruption is damning. Not all pain is damaging. Do not be so blind Empress you can feel these things are true. You are corrupted by the force as much as your treacherous sister. You know pain but yet you live and thrive. Is it despite of it? Or is it because of it?" The Inquisitor reached out letting her trembling hand fall over top his to rest.

"It is corruption that saves you now. It is pain that will steel your resolve under the weight of this new crown." There was something maddening in the Inquisitor words. Something maybe even thrilling, dangerous, unknown, and it tugged at Miranda, pulling her deeper into an alien world she knew nothing about.

Darkness took her then, her body falling limply against the cushions, but her bodies descent did not stop at the chair. She fell through it, drifting down the many floors of the grand building like a ghost and eventually out from the bottom of it. An angel, clad in white she plunged from Coruscant's heavenly upper levels and through the hellish dinge of its underbelly. She could still feel her hand on his, still see the stare of his crazed golden eyes, and even though her mouth was agape no sound would come, no shout of help could save her. All Miranda could to was continue to fall.

Like a snowflake coming unraveled, her wedding gown rippled and waved with her, yet oddly, the sweat continued to roll down her body with gravity, unaffected by her rapid descent. It was then she noticed the silence amidst her own struggled breaths. There was no scream of air tearing past her ears, nor the feel of it rushing past her skin, yet the fabric on her dress moved as if she was indeed still falling.

It was when Miranda's body sank past earth and soil she found herself swallowed in a world she didn't recognize. A world were there were no structures, no light, save the rippling shades of color that wrapped themselves around her now floating body. She noticed the clouds of emerald green at first, then the sheen of thick blue, before looking up to see the rippling sparkle of light above. She moved to speak but instead found a stream of bubbles escape her lips. Panic struck Miranda as she now realized she was underwater and no matter how hard she tried to swim she couldn't rise to the light. She struggled frantically for a moment before it became too much. Miranda had forgotten the taste of air and her lungs burned with withdrawal. Soon her body would force her to breathe no matter the consequences.

Then Miranda could see him walking toward her still floating body. His feet touched nothing but he walked as casually as someone strolling down the sidewalk. The assassin moved close, his lips hovering just an inch from hers as he puckered and blew a soft stream of cool air against her lips. It was with a loud gasp she finally took a much needed breath, with several more greedy gulps of air following. Her mind raced trying not to fight the illogical nature of her managing to breathe under water.

"They say 'Death is the road to awe." His voice echoed as if they were in a chamber filled with water and not under it. "Tell me Empress, are you in awe yet?"

[Miranda Tarkin]

A hallucination. She slammed her eyes shut, trembling with certainty that was the true cause of this delusion. This man had drugged her and as death cascaded closer to her soul, madness was beginning to set deeply within her mind. Her would be killer was her only salvation, so he arose as her savior in this bizarre world by allowing her to breathe. But why did he switch gears except to toy with her? Or was it the drug tricking his mind in hearing something else. Why try and kill someone to only lend strength to their resolve with empowering words?

"No," she said to herself but Miranda was able to speak. His breath of life had allowed her voice to return, or perhaps her mind was slowly starting to unravel this drug induced delirium. She could not tell.

Her eyes snapped opened as a wave of nausea hit, forcing her body to contort into the shape of an S. In that brief instant of vision, she had saw him hovering dangerous close to her lips still, making her wonder if it were the drugs or his ghastly sight that had queasily startled her stomach.

No, it was neither of those reasons. Her sickness was a manifestation of the corruption he had touched upon earlier. Her affinity for the Force; a truth she could not deny by the existence of a twin sister who was a Jedi no less. How could the Force taint her noble family? What did she do to deserve to bring such shame against the name Tarkin? All she ever wanted was to avenge the deaths of her Grandfather and Father by destroying the Rebellion, allowing the Empire to thrive for generations to come! And when she had finally achieved the pinnacle of Empress, she wanted to remove the infected worms that Sevon had planted. They were not true Imperials, only glorified criminals that held a title to their names.

Slowly her eyes opened, readying herself to stare into the face of this wicked man, and this time she did not heave or look away. Miranda thought it strange how the water didn't sting her eyes, but it was a hallucination after all.

"You ..." her throat was raw from the silent pleas that had escaped her lips during her fantastical descent, but her insides still were being ravaged by the unknown drugs assault. "You ... imply that I embrace ... this corruption inside of me, yet you ... seek to ... destroy me. A contradiction. What do you ... really want?"

[Tear]

"My dearest Empress. I thought it was obvious?" Tear delicately eased forward, brushing his lips over hers, and whispered. "I want to know if you are worth saving."

There was a steady beat of the deep sea world around Miranda. Spinning colors of swirling seaweed greens and icy arctic blues twisted their way against her with the tides current. It was so slow. The waves languishing with her ever sinking heart beat. This world of her own making. It constantly shifted, changing shape and dimension but the strongest aspects remained the same. The ones that reflected her current doubt and worry. Was it possible the choices she was making could leave her lost and drowning. Above the sky still glittered through the watery surface but there was no land, no object save the man in front of her who offered salvation.

"Despite your position you cannot deny the fact that it took the powers of others to raise you to your station. They hold you up." Miranda then felt them. Fingers clasping around her wrists, fore arms, shoulders, down to her hips and even her ankles. Melting from the darkness of the water these hands formed from arms but were not attached to a shoulder or body. They simply reached from the dark for her.

"They're hands ease the burden of your crown and intwine themselves into your throne. Like parasites they share your destiny and guide it for their own ambitions. Should these hands let go, your crown and throne, will all come crashing down." Dark and black the hands crept over her body. Even melting from her thick auburn hair to grasp and pull back her forehead. While another looped three fingers over her bottom lips and teeth, pulling her mouth open.

"I can show you to endure." Tear reached up trailing his finger like a feather across Miranda's cheek. "I can show you to cultivate this strength you have." He then clutched the fingers that had pried Miranda's mouth open and with a dull crack snapped them backwards, ripping the black hand away. "I can show you to free yourself."

"All you need to do..." In front of her Tear stood with ribbons of blood drifting through the water around him. Despite closing her mouth she could taste it in her lips. It had a sweet taste, like a wine she had once shared with childhood friends on Vjun.

How far she had come in such a short while since those happy times. From the face of the Empire touting propaganda to the savior of a sector. A hero cursed by love so dire as to be raised by the people to reign in these darkening times. Would she follow in her fathers foot steps so diligently? Did she not fear that perhaps her destiny would be permanently set in blood? Could this be the Tarkin Legacy? Forever a martyr for the Empire?

"Is to ask." Say it Miranda and seal your sins with the devil.

[Miranda Tarkin]

She could not deny it. Everything that this man spoke about her ascension was true. Without the backing of powerful allies like Chancellor Anar and the Inquisitors, Miranda would have probably had to accept that her life would have peaked at Grand Moff due to her own influence. People were beginning to finally take notice of her once promoted to Moff, so it was a matter of inevitability that she would earn a position amongst the Grand Moffs by productive merit.

But she needed more. The galaxy was drowning in disparity and corruption and she was to be the hand that directed the course of the Empire citizens for centuries to come. Her name came with a legacy of direction and doom. Even though she could convince the entire populace otherwise, Miranda was not immune to the 'Tarkin' curse. Had she risen so high only to be killed by the Rebellion as if preordained? Or would she be 'safe'? Kept safe by the same men that put her in this position and in return, be their little puppet?

Not all of her allies thought that, but her enemies certainly did.

And now her blurred vision, brought upon the intoxicating effects of blood laden water, refocused upon her captor ... Or perhaps savior? This man who was controlling her mind through poison and thought. He wasn't here on Valten's orders, but he certainly was a Force User. Was he part of the Inquisitors? He knew too much to be someone unaffiliated with the Empire ...

She growled at her thoughts. Precious seconds wasted at speculation that would not save her from this self contained nightmare.

Tarkin spat out the foul tasting water, though true, it had been sweet moments prior. But it had become bitter as it lingered inside her mouth.

"Am I worth saving?" she hissed, repeating the question as the bodiless hands still clung to her drenched form. Her skin had grown pale and pickled from cold water. Fingertips shading to blue as arms tried to break free from their clutches. Hands broke through the surface and grabbed at her mouth, neck and forehead, threatening to pull her down. She thrashed against their strengh. But to no avail. Eventually her slender form lost the battle and was dragged beneath the unforgiving depths of oblivion.

But then a fist broke through the surface, small and petite, no longer deathly pale and shriveled from being thoroughly soaked. Even the grey sleeve garbing it was perfectly pressed and bone dry. Soon the other arm came crashing down against the waters surface and used the base to begin pulling herself up out of the water as if it were as sturdy as durasteel.

Water crowned brown hair as it broke the surface until matching color eyes that seethed with contempt and defiance found her captor's own fiery orbs. Once her lips were free she spoke even tempered, "You wouldn't have asked me if I wanted your aid if you didn't think I was worth your time."

When she had been pulled underneath the water, it had been pitch black, cold and completely devoid of life. Only the false arms continued to rip at her wedding dress, hair and eventually flesh. Her flailing only encouraged them to be more monstrous in their groping. Physicality was not the answer. It was never the answer for one such as her. Her mind had always been her strength with logic, reason, and a deviousness that would have made her Grandfather proud.

So she relied on that strength now, remembering the tools that had brought the entire galaxy's focus upon her and emerged fully from the water no longer in her wedding dress, but that of a proud Moff.

"If you knew me as well as you think," she began as Miranda stood upon the waters surface and walked right up to the stranger, her eyes still fixated upon his with an unwavering gaze, "you would know I ask for nothing."

It was arrogant and perhaps stupid, but Miranda would not destroy her own principals and simply give in so easily. What would that prove except that he was right and she was a mere puppet holding out a hand for table scraps.

[Tear]

She was right of course, what he knew of Miranda could be neatly stored within a classified file. Quantified through text what little there was had been in the form of intelligence reports; service records, family history, blood type, even stretching so far as to her likes and dislikes concerning cuisine. A typical report, but what he had found in his hands was anything but typical. Tear had come to assassinate Miranda Tarkin, Empress of the Empire, expecting to find a politician but that is not what he had found.

Now Tear was here, in the womb of Miranda's mind, where he could taste all of her secrets on his lips like salty breeze on Aquilaris. It was here the holes in her bid for power were revealed in their entirety. Sevon and his assassins, Valten and his Inquisitors, Anar and his politicians. Tear had his spies in the Empire, along with those still in the web of the Inquisitorious but like any puzzle he hadn't been able to connect all the pieces. Now he could.

Beneath Miranda's polished boots the eerie dark water rippled alluding to its never ending depth. Murky and unknown she had felt the hands of something cruel try to pull her under just moments before. Yet she had persevered, resisting the temptation of an easy path. Even shedding the white of her wedding dress to dawn the military fabric of her fathers.

Was this her shield?

"Perhaps." The word sizzled almost painfully in her ears. "Or maybe I just wanted to see if this generation of Tarkin held a spine." The stranger suddenly reached out. His hand flashing forward to dive into the flesh of her stomach. Amazingly she could only watch, or more accurately, feel his fingers digging horrifically through her insides. If she had bothered to look up from the grotesque act she might catch the hint of amusement playing over the strangers face, like a child in play.

"Ah there it is." His fingers felt around the sharp vertebrae and then, delicately hooking his fingers around the spinal cord, he squeezed. Miranda's legs immediately went limp but she did not fall. Instead she found herself in hanging agony being held up by this stranger with his hand through her stomach.

"Even here you keep yourself restrained. Professional. Reserved. Mediocre. Perhaps you do it unknowingly? Keeping what may frighten you chained deep within, like some closet monster in your childhood, if you refuse to recognize it does that negate the fact it could still be there? Hiding behind the skeletons of your ancestry."

"This visage you parade about in is not who you are Miranda. I can see you becoming much, much, more."

His fist tightened resulting in the dull thundering sound of snapping bone and with a scream suppressed behind biting teeth, the Empress of the Empire, reeled in pain in his grasp. Her hands clawing at his forearm, digging her nails into his flesh in a vain attempt to free herself, but it was futile. The dark emotions that warped the landscape of this astral plane held no physical rule. Here only the mind ruled and hers was not as trained just yet.

He seemed to wait while she tired herself out. Reacting to the pain with a feral instinct until she finally realized there was no escaping from it. Miranda then reacted the same way most animals do when they cannot escape, she tried to cope with the pain through stillness, laying limp, breathing only when needed. It was those excruciating moments that seemed to stretch on forever that established an epiphany. Through the pain she was frustrated at this man, who was he to do this to her? How did the Empress of an Empire become so helpless? It was infuriating and at that moment she ceased coping with the pain and instead begun to channel it.

Amidst the landscape a deathly calm settled onto the pair. Beneath their feet the water remained an endlessly murky emerald green but above them the sky lightened. Behind Miranda there was what could only be explained as a setting sun. From her position facing the stranger she couldn't see it but the clouds around them had shifted in color, from being bleached of it, to having flecks of pink, and brilliant strands of yellow to fiery oranges that could almost match the strangers eyes. It was a setting sun Miranda Tarkin couldn't see but one that was setting just for her and strangely, even though the pain remained, she felt stronger for it. The Empress's auburn eyes had been locked calmly with his when she noticed his lips begin to move.

"Pain will always be with you but it is how you choose to use it that will define the outcome of its presence and your future. This will be your first of many lessons..."

His lips puckered and again, Miranda felt a breeze brush against her cheeks, only this time it wasn't to endure her breath. This time she felt a blistering heat scorch across her skin which seared and tightened until finally cracking like a marble statue under too much pressure. But Miranda didn't scream. She didn't even flinch. She only took the pain, accepted it, harvested it. Her jaw clenched, biting back the boiling blood the rose in her throat, until the flesh of her cheeks seared away to blackened bones. Her eyes clenched until the heat caused them to burst and her hair danced ablaze like the rest of her body, consumed fully by flame.

She screamed then, like anyone would, but it was alright. She had already past her test. The screaming had died long before the flames but when they too burnt themselves out all that remained in the strangers hand was ash. Yet even though Miranda had no body, and the sunlight behind pulled at her consciousness she could hear him speak two final words

"...My apprentice."

[Miranda Tarkin]

The screams of Empress Tarkin were drowned out by the pounding of drums and blaring of trumpets as her guests continued to dance, unawares that the Empire had almost lost their leader for the second time.

She had managed to stretch the length of her body so rigid, that her shoe heels dug into the carpet to keep her from falling out of the chair. Knuckles were on the verge of breaking, having grown white and lost regular sensation from the strain. Miranda's hand were locked in a death grip against the chair arms that her forearms felt so tired and sore. As if they had been trying valiantly for the last ten minutes to rip them apart by the nails.

Arched back within the air plummeted down onto the seat as Miranda's conscious self came to the realization that it was over. The incursion into her mind had left her physically unharmed, but mentally she was exhausted. By the way she felt, she could sleep for a week. Eyes half opened, she had half a mind to drift into slumber right here. But they would be looking for her! How long did the man with the Orange Eyes kidnap her for!

A surge of adrenaline snapped Miranda in heightened awareness as she swept the room for his presence. Wide eyes, labored breath and skin prickled with anticipatory goose bumps were disappointed when the Empress realized she was alone. She fell against the back of the chair, exhausted, and rubbed the chill away from her exposed arms by a hand.

The chronometer on the bureau ticked away another minute and Miranda scrutinized it carefully, because her tired mind must be playing tricks upon her. Only five minutes had passed? It seemed inconceivable, but time was an inconsequential aspect of human science to explain how the universe worked. Such constants could be bent inside the mind.

He was going to kill her. She felt his thoughts briefly, and only because he allowed it. Miranda's mind was too unskilled to even think of delving into his psyche, but that one thought came through clearly at one point. As well as his surprise. So instead of leaving a corpse, as was his original intent, he gained an Apprentice.

There was untapped potential within Miranda, which the entire Empire could actually agreed upon. Some despised it, others embraced it, few others realized that Miranda had the ability to tap into the Force - a fact she had loathed since it was Force users that had been the bane of her family. She had grown to hate which she feared. What she feared have caused her much pain, but in that pain, she could be powerful. Powerful like him...

It is not as if he gave her much choice. She should be angry. The way he toyed with her, playing with his prey like a cat. Batting it around to wound and humiliate the poor defenseless mouse right before sharp teeth sunk into her neck to break the vertebrae. And yet the prey shocked him and intrigued him so much that he was willing to train her.

Miranda had also become intrigued. Not realizing it at the time, she was tapping into the Force when she had finally stood up to her attacker. Shedding the gown of white she currently wore and finally eluding his mental torture for a brief moment. But then there was the pain... the excruciating pain that had incinerated her mental self into a searing ball of fire and ash. Unable to retaliate, she had felt it. The power washing over her, which gave Miranda, the strength to endure the pain thrust down upon her battered body. It was the only reason she had awakened, relatively, mentally unscathed and now a willing partner to him. To train and to learn so she may harness the Force and lead her people into prosperity. She was not an idealistic fool. Her Master was not to be trusted and Miranda would have to learn what he wanted to gain in this relationship. Her rise to power had been the work of many, who had their motivations and desires that coincided with Miranda's at the time. But they could easily turn against her as soon as their purposes diverge.

The same could be said for the man would train her.

Finally her arms felt normal and less wobbly as Miranda pushed herself to stand. She passed by an ornate mirror, framed in gold leaves and berries, and preened her hair. Adjusting the veil and a few hairpins, the Empress looked as beautiful as ever. But for those that looked deeply into her eyes, they would noticed a subtly shift in dilation and awareness unseen previously. A hidden desire tucked safely away that no one would understand the full ramifications, only simply infer that Empress was thinking fondly of her new marriage, or her mind was weighing heavily upon affairs of state regardless of the distractions amongst her. Most wouldn’t see it. They were too wrapped up in their own insipid live to care about anyone else. They could only see generalities, where Miranda’s mind had been opened up to unlimited possibilities.

A cleansing breath of strength filled her lungs as she walked away from the mirror and towards the closed doors leading her back to the ballroom. Fingers encased the doorknob and just as it clicked opened, Miranda’s face lit up in the most enchanting of smiles to be received by those on the other side. Clueless guests greeted her with smiles of their own, some claps of glee that they were close to the Empress, while others stood stoic with neither approval or disapproval, just mere curiosity as she rejoined her guests just in time for the cake to be cut.

Gallus was smiling and beckoning his wife over in earnest, knife already in hand. It elicited a genuine smile from Miranda and for a brief moment, one of the most difficult trials in her life was forgotten…

But she knew it was only a matter of time when her Master would call, and she would heed his beckoning and delve further into a place that scared and enthralled her much the same…