Disclaimer: I do not own SW. I do own my OFCS though.

Inertia I: Child of Destiny

Chapter Three: Breaking Plans

"Beware of Mara Jade; when I was last aware, she was with the smuggler Talon Karrde, working under him. After the destruction of the Emperor's second battle station Death Star, she vanished, and found crime replaced the loyalties she once had to the Empire. It was no more than five years later when I myself came into contact with this clone, who had been named Dania Laquila…"

Dsai'llyana sat back, reclining in the chair, to get comfortable. Clearly, this was going to take some time. Being without visual memories, as a child she had treasured the sounds of voices, their tones, the subtleties to the breathing patterns of those around her. Her memory was as clear as it had been then; sitting here listening to the sound of Thrawn's voice was like she was sitting beside him, addressing him personally, as she had back as a child. It hurt her, somewhere deep inside. Perhaps her humanity had been underestimated.

"The Emperor controlled his galaxy at first through the Senate, though this was little more than a rubberstamp on his own personal ideas on how to rule. Increasingly, he was listening more to the Court that had began to evolve around him, a combination of military leaders, lords and those desperate for some scrap of power. Eventually Imperial Court became the most influential body of people, but it was also one of the most dangerous. Everyone served their own ideals and for their own advancement, and so political feuds and intrigue began to intertwine. One had to be very cautious with whom one allied with, and against…Your mother arrived as a geisha, one of the lower classes at court, though still pureblood from the Core Worlds, and was added to the Court Harem. No one knew from where she came, or what her claim to nobility was, but she was favoured by the Emperor, and no one would question his words. Well trained and educated, she never knew the surreptitious schemes being laid down around her… "

"You've received an invitation to the Mid-Winter Festival?" Voss Parck looked startled by the news the Vice Admiral Thrawn gave him, his eyes widening a little. Those red eyes seemed to glimmer, trying to read his thoughts from his expression. "I was under the impression Court did not want you around for official engagements?"

"As was I, Captain. It was made quite clear last time that I was not welcome." Vice Admiral Thrawn sat backwards, leaving the messenger-delivered invitation on the table before them, as a witness to their debate. Very little was written on paper within Imperial Centre anymore, except these little calling-cards of Palpatine's political games. "It seems as if the Emperor is trying to rekindle interest at Court." He spoke thoughtfully, his eyes looking past Parck, and at the Coruscant skyline, the redness glowing a little brighter.

After a successful campaign in the Pakuuni system, Thrawn had returned to Imperial Centre, awaiting orders, frittering away the weeks he had accumulated of leave. He was disinclined to spend any time on Coruscant; his excuses to avoid Court were running out. When the young woman, dressed in the red of the Imperial household had left the invite in his hand, earlier this morning, he had considered his options carefully; To refuse would be grossly bad manners, and to go along, unprepared, would be suicidal. After a few minutes of analysing what exactly was written, Thrawn had decided to see what Voss Parck made of it.

Voss Parck would probably be the closest thing to a friend the alien Admiral would ever have; though close ally would probably be a better description. After discovering the Exiled Chiss, it had been the Captain who had bought Thrawn back before the Emperor and his officials; it had been Voss Parck who had made a gamble that could have earned him an execution for his boldness.

This display for an alien whose true name he had not been able to pronounce had touched Thrawn somewhere. And for that, Thrawn had made sure that the Imperial officer was reimbursed. Though Thrawn had long ago surpassed Parck in rank, they spoke as old friends did regularly, at locales such as this restaurant in a fashionable part of Coruscant, the Imperial Palace still within sight. A young waiter carefully placed their glasses before them, leaving them alone to their words again in seconds.

"I'm not so sure I like your tone, Thrawn." Parck replied after a few moments silence, his eyes narrowed, recognising the alien was plotting as they spoke, and wondering whether it was innocent or illicit manipulation. "You are seriously considering going along tonight, despite being aware that it's a trap? A little entertainment to keep the Emperor amused?"

"I was ill-equipped last time; I will not make the same mistake again." Thrawn rose the glass briefly, and replaced it back on the surface before finishing his point "You can't deny it, Voss, a little dabbling at Court would be a welcome distraction, for us both."

Voss Parck was not convinced.

"Entering Court without allies or power is potential suicide. You have very little of either. Those established like to stay that way, and they wouldn't welcome you, an alien of all people, into manipulating them." Parck spoke with a harsh tone Thrawn had rarely heard from the well-tempered Captain's mouth, and found a smile twitching his lips. Parck seemed to regain his composure, and apologised. "Excuse my abruptness, but Court does not possess the high mindedness that you do; they do not have morals or scruples when it comes to destroying their adversaries. And I would image that you will immediately be recognised as a grave threat to their authority."

"I labour under no illusions, Captain; I am certain the brutality certain members are rumoured to easily employ will be well founded. Which will require a little more preparation on my part."

"Preparation? The only preparation I recommend would be to wear blaster-proof clothing." Parck replied sardonically.

"Not a bad idea." He considered it thoughtfully. "But no; I have been asked to take a friend, as well as a Doll." Voss Parck paled visibly at these words. "You would be unwilling?"

"No…I'm shocked that the Emperor would allow you to take a Doll. I don't like this. It's too…convenient. For you to have been invited to Court, despite the anti-alien feeling at the moment, and then to request you to take one of his Dolls…there is something afoot." Parck looked highly uncomfortable; he was not adverse to a party, but the dangers presented by Court did not interest him as much as they seemed to affect Thrawn.

"I agree. But there is only one way to find out what game is being played against us, Captain. We have to play ourselves in." Thrawn spoke confidently, despite realising at least half the Court would be a potential enemy because of their involvement with COMPNOR and the High Human Culture Program.

The Chiss liked to believe that they alone had the most intriguing and intellectual of cultures; Imperial Court, however, was on a totally different level. The High Families were inclined to ruin careers and banish dangerous individuals, but Imperial Court had a tendency to threaten the lives of anyone who dared to involve themselves. Whilst humans did not have an intuition as deep as the Chiss, their talents for treachery and double-dealing almost matched the manipulation the Aristocras and Commanders used effortlessly. It was certainly make for an interesting shore leave.

"You're willing to risk Court? With a promotion this close?"

"This is about as far as I hope to advance within the Empire; any further will be risking the anger of the Core World aristocrats." Parck knew he spoke from experience; the Core World Families had argued most ardently against ever allowing an alien into the fleet; only when they had seen him easily surpass the most stringent of entrance examinations and physicals did they allow an alien into their Empire Hierarchy, albeit reluctantly. Parck had often wondered how Thrawn kept himself together; in the face of so many hidden enemies, how did his confidence and his ego remain in balance?

"You deserve a promotion. At least 4 of those named Grand Admirals at the New Years Fete should not have even had their names put forward." Parck muttered bitterly. A great deal of the military had been displeased at the appointment of such important figures, most of which had little to offer except their families loyalist support. Of course, no one disputed Demetrius Zaarin or Osvald Teshik, who had both paid their tour of duty and had earned their rank. Parck returned his thoughts to Thrawn, and found the alien deep in thought, a small smile on his face.

"I'm unsure; the Emperor is surely getting paranoid in his old age, what is that adage that seems to govern Imperial Court? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? It's a very clever game Palpatine is executing, and it looks as if I may be drawn into it." He leaned backwards, a thoughtful look on his face as he then returned his gaze to Parck.

"But what is Palpatine's goal? He knows you're one of the most capable leaders in his fleet, why should he seek to alienate you?" Parck questioned. This is why he disliked the Court, it was so hard to sort out enemies and intentions from allies and well-placed meanings. Nevertheless, he sensed an excitement from Thrawn, nothing obvious, perhaps the way his eyes glinted in that way, the almost-smile that kept tugging on his lips, the relaxed posture.

"Your guess is as good as mine. There is only one way to find out, and my curiosity is profound." He smiled wryly. "Dress well tomorrow, we have to go and select ourselves a Doll..."

If there was one location in the entire Empire more infamously soaked in murder, conspiracy and intrigue, it was the infamous House of Dolls, the living place of the Court Geisha. The mystique surrounding these women was deep; sometimes they merely served as silent hostesses, other times they acted as courtesans, hanging off the arm of whoever was powerful within Court at that moment. But nothing occurred within the Empire that the House of Dolls had not heard through the grapevine, even Imperial Intelligence had not established so strong a network of connections as the Geisha, and few had as much influence.

Considered by many to be impure, the Geisha nevertheless continued to be a popular distraction within the Aristocracy, their mysterious behaviour always a cause for speculation. Always listening and paying attention to detail, information could be bought from them if enough was offered. The House of Dolls was not for just any male within the Court though; only the upper echelons, with especially granted permission were allowed access to the beauty that was caged in the exquisite rooms, and the temptations they offered.

The rooms where the House of Dolls existed were amongst the most lavish of the Imperial Palace; mirrors hung everywhere assuring the occupants of light and ever-changing colour, with long lengths of thin curtain hanging down from the ceiling. Numerous rooms lead away from the main circular room, each female that lived under the Harem's protection allowed a room for privacy between her and whoever may demand her company.

The newest addition to the upper class brothel, Dania Laquila, sat very still as the two women began to tug on her hair, scrapping combs to rid her long black hair of the knots it had seem to gather. They pinned it finally to her scalp with decorated pins, leaving enough hanging to still seem elegant and fashionable.

The young woman ignored the pain; it was not so bad, she reasoned, it was only a hair tug. Even if they had menace in their eyes as they dragged the painful teeth into her very skull; it was a punishment, she knew, for being sent the gift. The comb itself was very fine, inlaid with gold flowers, a delicate flower attached to the other side. The previous night, she had been taken out without an escort by one of the Grand Admirals, she hadn't even known his name, and this morning she had been sent the comb.

Though she had little in the way of presentation and reputation, it had been enough for him to be attracted to her, like a moth to a flame. In her late teens, she was considered old enough for marriage and pregnancy, and so no one gave a second thought to her feelings and aspirations, to her past or for her future; at the minute she was beautiful enough to be a doll, to earn her way and her keep in the Court of the Imperial Empire.

"You had better hope that you don't mix up any of your steps, girl, or I'll have you thrown back on the streets where you were taken from." Roganda spoke harshly, determined to quash the young woman's confidence to the floor, and grind it with her shoe. "I know you're from no nobility, your time here amongst the elite will be short lived."

Dania sighed. Roganda was the senior Geisha, and full concubine, her influence unparalleled by even the most skilled amongst the House of Dolls; for whilst a number of their colleagues may have caught the Emperor's eye, few had ever visited his bed more than once. Roganda had held that honour for a number of years, and jealously guarded what she saw as her right. It was his child she had carried, that he had seeded within her. Roganda had immediately disliked the younger woman, and had started unsettling Dania from the moment she had been left with her.

"Mistress Roganda, I will endeavour not to ruin the performance for you. " She bowed her head in respect to the elder female, only to feel a gnarled hand yank her head back straight again. The maids cussed her, and began combing again, needlessly.

"Little Miss had better not, or she'll suffer the consequences. Tonight is a vitally important occasion, and I will not be made look a fool by a mere apprentice. Do you understand me?"

An overly soft hand grabbed her chin, fingers digging into her cheeks as Roganda glared into Dania's light blue eyes. Realisation cracked through the young geisha as she understood the words; not only could she not fail, she could also not show up Roganda by being perfect.

"I will endeavour, my mistress…" She spoke, though it hurt as Roganda's fingers dug deeper into her cheeks. Finally she was released, and thrown backwards, fingernail marks still in her cheek, blood rising to the surface. The elder woman gave her a poisonous look, before walking towards the door.

"See to it you do. Dania Laquila…Or I will start to make life very difficult for you. Just because you have caught the attention of a Grand Admiral, do not believe you are superior. All too often do men feign love to tempt the naïve into surrendering their virtue." her upper lip curled in a sneer as she walked out, the long folds of her dress brushing the floor.

Roganda glanced over her shoulder at the docile female, her upper lip curled with disgust. That such a creature lived in Imperial Palace was deplorable, let alone being placed in the House of Dolls. Her poisonous thoughts were her only company, until a red dressed maid interrupted the silence, curtseying and silently handing a datapad over to her.

Roganda's eyes widened as she read the listings of those who had permission to take a Doll to the Mid-Winter Festival; surely, Palpatine had to be up to something, inviting an alien to take his pick of the most beautiful women in the Empire. But what could it be? Overcome with frustration at being unable to see the schemes, and anger at having to assign one of her dolls to an undesirable, a plot coiled itself around her, almost subconsciously…

A cruel smile dallied on her face as she glanced up again at Dania Laquila, idly wondering whether the young woman would ever recover from the setback she planned, and marvelling at her own cunning in destroying any hope the newcomer would have. She wondered how Tigellinus would react to losing Dania to an undesirable, and shivered with anticipation of the argument she would be responsible for.