Feminism, Imperial-style. In some people, you can discern the seeds of their future greatness. Posted 9 Mar 05 on TF.N.
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She wants power.
Not the piddling second-rate stuff she makes do with now, but real power, the kind of power you can use to remake a galaxy in your own image. She wants it oh-so-much, and she'll stop at nothing to have it.
But she has to make do with the power others have given her, and there's not much power to be had as the daughter of an assistant director of Imperial Intelligence. One day, though, her daddy will be promoted and she will be the daughter of the Director of Imperial Intelligence, which is a step up - there are many assistant directors, but only one director.
That is not enough for her, because she wants her own power. She wats people to tremble at her name, and she wants the galaxy to spin according to her wishes. She does not care that in today's galaxy, there is no power, no real power, for a girl. Girls and aliens and anyone who isn't liked by the Emperor have to make do with the power their betters give them. She doesn't care, though.
She generally doesn't.
"Ysanne?"
She looks at him, startled, the picture of innocence. Armand Isard smiles at her.
"It's time to go, Ysanne. You're thirteen now, daughter, and you must act as an adult. Tardiness is a bad habit."
His tone is mildly disapproving.
"I know, Father. It won't happen again."
She sounds repentant, and he smiles at her forgivingly.
"It's all right. Now let's go. We don't want to keep the Admiral waiting."
She steps out of the room, dressed in a pale blue dress that sets off her blue, blue eyes and black, black hair perfectly. She looks like an angel. Following her father down the stairs, her mind whispers to her.
Learn all you can from him, then dispose of him, for he knows you far too well.
Ysanne Isard will not be stopped.