Layers of Hate (Sean Piett)

[R. S. Esalis]

This thread takes place just after "Bop In, Say Hi" (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=35001) and just before "Stolen" (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=35032)




The office was spotless; immaculate in it's interior design and elegance. Sharp lines and open space dominated the atmosphere, and the only decorative speciman sat in the form of a decantur of Chandrillan Brandy on an endtable which stood against a side wall.

Hands resting palmdown on the polished surface of her teekwood desk, High Inquisitor R. S. Esalis waited patiently for the man that she had summoned. A man who she now knew had more intentions in his heart than a simple smoothing of relations between the Sovereignty and the Federacy.

A file of hardcopies sat atop the desk, as well as a copy of the datadisk that held the recording of Ambassador Sean Piett's visit with Loklorien s'Ilancy.

Being the head of the Inquisitoriate came with more than a few perks, and Esalis had no reservations in utilizing all of her resources. Even if it meant less than reputable methods were used to ensure the internal safety of the government she served.

Eyes leveled at the door to her office, the High Inquisitor continued to wait for her guest.

[Sean Piett]

Very tired, and more than a little drugged, Piett leaned idly against a wall. He found himself in the Inquistoriate's lobby, where he'd been summoned by no less than the High Inquistor.

A woman.

The Ambassador nested a cane in his left palm, holding it loosely as he put his weight on the wall. A man in his condition would likely have been better off sitting, or better, laying down, but Piett was stubborn and antsy. He touched his face lightly- he'd removed the bactapatch that had sat there. Several dozen dramatic looking black stitches accentuated the healing wounds on his face.

He traced the fine cords, thinking on his recent run-in with Lok s'Ilancy. He suspected that was why he was here- but it surprised him that she'd learned to quickly. Once he'd recieved his summons, he had little times to get things in order.

But here he was, more or less ready. He cradled a manilla folder in the crook of his right arm. Drumming on it as he waited, Piett thought about what he had in mind. Was it worth it?

"Ambassador."

Piett looked up, and an aide waved her arm, indicating that he should follow her. Tapping his cane on the ground in front of him, Piett slowly lurched forward and put all his weight on it. He moved towards her with slow, plodding steps. As he reached her, he spoke. "Yes?"

"The High Inquistor is ready to see you, sir. Please follow me."

"Right," he nodded. "Just don't move too fast," he finished with a pathetic chuckle.

"Of course, sir. This way."

It was a long walk, with a lot of hallway and a lot of security checkpoints to move through. Just as he worked himself up to a decent trot, they suddenly came to a stop before a simple yet imposing door.

"She's just inside." The attendant pressed a button, and the door slid open gracefully, much unlike the sudden, prompt doors on starships. Inhaling, the Ambassador put his best foot forward and stepped in. A silhouette sat behind a desk.

"High Inquistor Esalis, I hope?"

[R. S. Esalis]

If she was surprised at the Ambassador's current state of physical well-being, she didn't show it. She honestly hadn't expected him to be in good enough shape so soon; he'd recieved quite a thrashing from the Lupine as she'd been fortunate enough to see.

"Ah, Ambassador Piett," Esalis started evenly, "I'm so glad you could see me on such short notice."

She smiled thinly, and running a finger over an as yet unseen button on her desk, Esalis and the rest of her office was soon bathed in a cool light. Her crimson tunic fit her form well, and she stood, letting a short moment of silence rest between them before speaking once more.

"You seem to have gotten yourself injured."