Mia’s boots clacked as she walked over the polished marble floor. She was still in her uniform, and was slightly frazzled. It was less than an hour earlier when she was forced to run from the fight, her frigate heavily impaired.
She made her way down the long, decorated hallway and stopped in front of a couple of stately double doors. The two Prophet guards on each side of it nodded to her, even as she nervously wrung her hands in anticipation.
Mia balled them into fists, then eased the tension out. Once they were stable, she looked back at the guards, and nodded to them.
Then, they opened the doors for her.
She gathered up all of her courage and stepped on through. The guards shut the doors behind her as she walked further into the spacious, regal office.