skin, bone, and arrogance
https://youtu.be/PBpnicmEufA
Number 10 Park Boulevard
Avalonia, Dosuun - 2341 Standard Time
Grand Moff Natasi Fortan's Quarters
Sometime after the Second Battle of Skor II
Natasi sat on the edge of the large tub in her private bathroom, reading from a sheaf of flimsiplast pages as she waited for the tub to fill. Every part of her ached to be submerged in the hot water, but experience taught her that it was better to wait for the tub to be filled, the perfumed additive added to the water, and the glass of wine poured before she attempted to disrobe and submerge herself in the water. So she contented herself with reading the minutes of the after-action report on Skor II as she waited. Not that she needed to read about it; she had been there, in the thick of it. It was not a day upon which Natasi Fortan would reflect with undiluted pleasure. The humiliation of having been forced to evacuate Concordia still burned in the pit of her stomach.
The conclusion had been, based on available footage and intelligence, that the action had been undertaken by Mandalorians unknown. The use of liveried armor on a mission that was supposed to be mercenary work made identification difficult, and without a DNA sample with which to compare the mess left in the turbolift shaft, it seemed that making a positive identification was unlikely. The thought of the perpetrator walking away scot-free -- whoever had masterminded the attack and controlled the agent who had done it -- made Natasi's stomach clench painfully. But what to do?
She sighed and glanced over her shoulder; the tub was just reaching the proper capacity. She set the sheaf of flimsis aside and stood, leaning over to turn off the tap. She drizzled a measure of scented additive to the water. A moment later, the Grand Moff untied her dressing gown and let it slide off her shoulders, hooking it with her fingers and carefully folding it over the back of her dressing chair before she climbed up the few steps to the large tub and carefully eased herself in. Even the warmth of the tub did not soothe her unsettled feeling. She toyed with the data, turning it over and over in her mind's eye, searching for some element she had missed.
Languidly reaching up to pull her hair back into a messy bun atop her head, so as to avoid getting it wet, she reclined against the jetted back of the tub, allowing a moment's relaxation. What did the Fetts have against the First Order? Or the Munins? Or the Viszlas, a family who if intelligence was to be believed was on good terms with the Sith-Imperials, putative friends of the First Order? Natasi's eyes screwed up tightly, her eyebrows and forehead furrowing as she struggled for something that was right outside her mental grasp. No... there was something else about those three names, something unrelated to the First Order, something Natasi couldn't quite reach.
Just as the thought occurred to Natasi, another came like a bolt of lightning. She hauled herself out of the bath, pausing only to wrap a bath sheet around her frame as she hurried into her bedroom for the communicator. "Glass," Natasi told the man on the other line. "Get Director Shepard and Minister Calgar over here. Make apologies for the lateness of the hour. Ask them to pull our records on recent Mandalorian history." She combed her fingers through her damp hair anxiously. "Oh -- Glass? Send for Rausgeber, too. Yes, here. Let security know they're coming."
Natasi toweled off haphazardly and dressed quickly -- rather more informally than anyone in attendance had ever seen her in a pair of black slacks and a baggy black sweater -- before putting her hair back in a tail. She gathered her papers and hurried out of her quarters, heading for the library on the ground floor. There they would find Natasi poring over the minutes of the meeting, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, jotting notes.
[member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="The Major"]