Jedi Insurgency 126

Changing out of his outfit so he wouldn't be recognized, Corvus had gone on a spending spree with the kids, and bought out all of the tea that he could find. 

It was quite fun finally being able to spend the money he had rightfully stolen from the Galactic Bank. Up until this point, those funds had been solely used to pay the Starcrusher Corp. But now he had spent money on himself, a sum of over 50,000 credits gone in a flash. That kind of cash could purchase a decent starfighter in this economy, or even field a well equipped mercenary squad. 

Instead, it was used to prank Obi-Wan of all things. 

Money well spent, in Corvus’s opinion. 

Handing out a few thousand creds to the kids, he had sent them off to go find fun whilst he relaxed, and breathed in the city. Truthfully, he hated shopping with a burning passion, and although he was a homebody deep at heart, he always enjoyed finding a good place outside to just sit, listen, and watch. 

Theed shimmered under the late morning sun, its alabaster domes gleamed against the velvet blue sky. The sound of rushing water filled the air, cascading from the great Theed waterfall that gushed life into the river below. People walked by, and told stories about Revan, rumors spread, and the Jedi were the hot topic. Ignoring their whispers, Corvus opened himself up to the Force, and basked in the sun. Amidst the mist and serenity, he sat at a table with a hot beverage in hand. 

Stirring some local honey-like syrup into his cup of Nabooan blossom tea with deliberate calm, he amused himself with the Force, and perfectly mixed the contents of his cup. 

“Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.” Corvus chuckled to himself as the color of his drink took on a golden hue. 

Changed into a half-mask that covered his eyes and upper cheeks, he felt that it lent him an aura of mystery. Conveniently, his mouth was free to eat and drink. 

Just as he was about to taste this tantalizingly aromatic beverage, a quiet chime interrupted the peaceful ambience. One of the reasons why he had pushed the teens away, was because he had planned a meeting. 

A second later, after the ringing began, Corvus clicked a button, and the holoprojector at the center of the table flared to life. Appearing in blue was the flickering form of a woman. It was the newest head of the ISB, Ysanne Isard. 

Even as a hologram, she radiated an aura of authority. Her uniform was crisp, her hair immaculate, and her mismatched eyes burned with exhaustion and command. Although young, and inexperienced, this was a woman accustomed to getting what she wanted. ‘No’ was not a word that was part of her vocabulary. 

“Agent Bond.” She snapped at him, dispensing with any pleasantries. “You’ve been silent for two weeks. Care to explain what you’ve been doing?”

Corvus lifted his cup and took a long, unhurried sip. Steam curled around the lower half of his face before he set the fine porcelain down. “Enjoying the view, Director.” His words were ambiguous, enough that he could be referring to Theed, or Isard herself. 

Of course Corvus never intended on pursuing Isard, she was barely an adult, practically a kid in his eyes. But that didn’t mean his Bond persona couldn't flirt a little. After all, in the spy world, the easiest path to obtain knowledge was through a compromised heart. 

As Corvus's rather obvious smirk was badly hidden by his cup, Isard's returning glare could have scorched durasteel, and the folding of her arms showed that she was thoroughly unamused. “You are not paid to enjoy the view. You are an Imperial operative assigned to track dissident activity in the Mid Rim. I expect results, not-”

“Results.” Corvus interrupted softly, his spoon made annoying clanking noises whilst he idly moved his hand. “I find in our line of work, take patience.”

Isard’s expression tightened, and her brows furrowed in displeasure. “You think this is a game? The Emperor is most displeased, Agent. I cannot stress how tense the situation on Coruscant is at the moment. Bureaucrats are being purged faster than anticipated. If you do not show him progress soon-”

Corvus leaned back in his chair, folding one leg over the other with infuriating leisure, and interrupted her once more. “Tell me, Director.” He said in a mild tone. “Have you checked the holonet this morning?”

“What?” Her tirade faltered, and she looked at him quizzically as he had interrupted her flow. 

“The holonet.” He repeated in a flat tone, as if she were a particularly slow child. “You might find the headlines...refreshing.”

“And what, precisely, am I supposed to find there? You have done me a great service in the past, but the failures of others on Eriadu had been blamed on us. This had better be worth it, Bond.”

“Oh yes, I know all about Skywalker's latest blunder. It's hard to believe that such a handsome fellow is now locked in that dreadful armor.” Corvus gossipped. 

“Skywalker…don't ever let Vader catch you calling him that. He snapped the neck of an Admiral like it was a toothpick.” Isard showed her age, and for a moment, revealed herself to be the vulnerable, inexperienced girl that she was. Subtly shaking her head, she regained her confidence, and pointed at him authoritatively: “No matter. Now report, what have you seen!” 

‘Poor little psychopath. If she didn't murder her own father for power, I'd almost feel bad for her.’ 

“Apparently, Senator Padmé Amidala has returned to Naboo. Alive and quite well, despite her supposed death.” Corvus said in an airy tone, as if what he was discussing was no more important than the weather. 

For a long moment, the sound of the waterfall filled the silence between them. Isard’s holographic form froze mid-blink, her sharp features softening as disbelief bled into relief. A whole host of complex emotions were there, then gone in an instant. Corvus raised an eyebrow, Isard must've been incredibly desperate for information. He could only imagine how Vader's cosmic blunder on Eriadu impacted both himself, and Palpatine. 

An entire battlegroup, a force consisting of 50 million clones, 250+ capital ships, and a billion regulars, gone. Furthermore, their defeat was used as propaganda fodder for the big bad villain: Revan. 

Realizing that if even Isard was under this much stress, the rest of the Imperial higher ups wouldn't be much better! A self satisfied smile spread across his face at the thought that Palpatine was burning with so much venom. Just wait until he reveals to Isard that Plagueis had also made a comeback. Palpatine was sure to suspect, but that dark aura could've been anyone. Now that he was acting as Bond, it was the perfect time to piss in Palpatine’s potato salad, and ruin his day! 

“She’s alive?” Isard spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. 

“So it seems. I suspect she faked her death. The tabloids always spoke of her connection to Anakin Skywalker, you don't think there was something going on there? The Senator was after all famously pregnant, with no one knowing who the father was. Others suspect the father was General Kenobi, which is why our Lord Vader was so brutally de-limbed. He was a victim of a love triangle, or so the rumors on the holonet go.” Corvus gossiped even more in an effort to stir up trouble. 

Ysanne partied in high society circles, and he was sure some of this tertiary information might slip. How he wished to be a fly on the wall once Vader discovered that not only was Padmé alive, but that she was supposedly, the father of his two kids! Vader’s rage would be legendary! 

At the same time, the young Director refused to rise to his bait, and didn't become riled up as expected. Instead, her shoulders and the tension in her frame eased up like a deflated balloon. “That…that’s something.” She murmured. “Finally, something worth reporting.”

Corvus inclined his head, and raised his cup in a salute. “Happy to be of service, Director.”

“Don’t get comfortable, Bond. I expect more information going forward. No slacking.” Isard barked, regaining some of her aura of command. 

Corvus exhaled quietly, the faintest ghost of amusement tugged at his lips. The Force stirred around him, carrying the faint echo of laughter into the nearby falls. 

Isard lingered on the line, her expression unreadable. Corvus smiled faintly into his cup. 

‘Shouldn't she have hung up by now? Ah, the lass must be so starved for social interactions, this is the best she has got.’ Corvus mused to himself. 

“Director, you sound as though you could use a moment to calm yourself. The tea here is rather divine. It's delicate, balanced, and entirely worth a few stolen minutes away from reports and rivals. Shall I have some sent to you?”

“You presume too much, Agent.” Isard replied with furrowed brows. She moved to cancel the call, yet for some reason unknown to herself, her finger hovered over the button, yet did not press ‘end.’ 

“It was my presumptuousness that saw me support you, and form this little alliance. I presume, Director, that you enjoy good taste.” Corvus replied in a playful tone. 

The faintest twitch softened her lips, she didn't exactly smile, nor did she outright deny his words. “I don’t have time for tea.”

“No one ever does, that’s what makes it worthwhile.” Corvus sighed, and admired the scenery that surrounded him once more. Theed truly was a magical city, a true gem of the Star Wars universe. 

Isard’s matching sigh crackled through the holoprojector, it was a quiet surrender to fatigue. “You’re insufferable, Bond.”

“I’ve certainly been called worse.” Corvus cheerfully replied. 

Her mismatched eyes studied him in silence. For a fleeting instant, the facade of Imperial command slipped. She once again looked her age. Barely out of adolescence, the stress of command & long sleepless nights had been etched into her delicate face. The lines around her eyes were too harsh for a girl who should have been laughing in the skylanes of Coruscant, not scheming in its shadowed corridors.

“Your support...has been instrumental, Agent Bond. I would not be in this position without your...counsel.” Isard admitted, almost as if every word had pained her, yet Corvus sensed she was being genuine. 

Inclining his head, Corvus responded with a touch of mock solemnity in his voice: “I do what I can for the Empire, and its most promising servants.”

A faint blush of irritation-or perhaps something else-colored her face. “Flattery, from you? How novel.”

He smiled behind his cup. “Only where it’s deserved.”

She frowned, clearly fighting between brushing him off and basking in the attention. For all her ambition, Ysanne Isard was still human, and humans, Corvus mused, were always the easiest to play.

He could take her now, with the right words. A few more flattering notes, a touch of concern for her burden, a whispered promise of shared ambition, and she’d be his creature. But where was the sport in that?

No, Ysanne was far too delightful to conquer quickly. A narcissist like her would resist, lash out, preen, and come back for more. Better to let her stew in her own vanity until she mistook corruption for affection.

Corvus raised his teacup in salute. “To your continued success, Director. I’ll send you a tin of this blend, consider it a token of my admiration.”

Isard rolled her eyes, but the slightly upturned corner of her mouth betrayed her. “You really are impossible, Bond. Don’t think this little charm offensive will earn you leniency in your next report.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Corvus said smoothly.

She hesitated, then added with the faintest huff: “...But thank you.”

And before he could respond, the hologram blinked out abruptly, almost as if there was a petulant, bratty edge to the sudden end to their conversation. 

Corvus chuckled, and leaned back into his chair as the waterfall’s mist refreshingly washed over him. She was like a feline that loved to be scratched, but wouldn't allow some random Han, Luke or Leia to approach. 

Taking another sip of tea, he savored its quiet warmth. The game was on, and he had all the time in the galaxy to play it.

~~~~~~~~~

AN: THE POLL WAS CONCLUSIVE. OBI-WAN IS NOT THE FATHER!!! (he isn't going to romance Padmé, but perhaps love is still in his future.)