If There's Anything I Can't Stand [Irani]

[Natasi Fortan]

Someone who didn't know [member="Darell Irani"] well would have taken his choice of a meeting place as a personal slight. Natasi Fortan studied the landscape of Lwhekk as the airspeeder raced over the tops of the jungle, and was not impressed. The lizard people who had tried to destroy the First Order had called this place home for some time, but Darell Irani's Iron Crown Enterprises had successfully set up shop there. The irony was not lost on the Grand Moff. One of the disgusting aliens had almost ripped Natasi in half during her desperate raid on the Imperial Palace in Avalonia, had left her mangled and bleeding almost to death; anyone could be forgiven for thinking that the choice of Lwhekk was at the very least insensitive. But Natasi knew better; he wasn't the type. It was unlikely that he knew, and if he did he probably didn't care.

It would no doubt have been a surprise for Irani when Natasi had reached out personally to make an appointment. Things between them had been... chilly, since they had parted ways. But there were two other things that would surprise him when they finally came face to face; first was that Natasi was, for the moment, blonde. The different hair color was for purposes of subterfuge; Natasi Fortan was not officially here, for any number of reasons, not least of which was the fact that technically she was -- technically -- committing treason.

But laws were for the little people. The people who couldn't see the grey for the black and white.

The airspeeder slowed down before easing to a halt in front of the appointed address. Natasi was ushered into a conference room, and asked -- or rather, ordered -- to wait. She eased up to the table and laid her coat across her lap, then shifted in her chair and waited silently, her pinky rubbing against her ring finger anxiously. It was a nervous tick that she hadn't known she had it until Irani himself had pointed it out one evening. She didn't bother trying to conceal it.

There was no point trying to hide from Irani.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

"She is a blonde now." Ash supplied dutifully datapad in hand.

This temporarily confused Irani, but then he glanced at the HRD assistant and realized she wasn't making a surprising joke.

"I see."
"I suspect whatever reasons she is here for, it isn't a sanctioned meeting."

"I see."

The last tone had a dangerous edge to it. Ashley was many things; coordinated and analytical, cold at the best of days and frigid at the worst. But she was most definitely not suicidal and simply kept her silence after that. The subject of [member="Natasi Fortan"] was a precarious one. Oh, being able to control his outward feelings was one of his trademarks, but Ash had worked long enough with him to be able to gauge his blood pressure and the heat of his skin, depending on the subject being brought up.

They walked and eventually Ashley turned another corner, leaving Irani alone in front of the door to his office.

There was a smudge of amber turning into his eyes as he felt her. She is an anxious one, most definitely not here on official business... what could it be, what could it be?

But the Sith in him was calmed and radiant blues came back.

The door hissed open and the businessman entered the room calmly. Irani noticed her - beautiful, like a viper, he wished to take her in his arms... he wanted to strangle her here and now. Cut off the head of the viper and grant him peace - but the moment passed and the Iron Crown CEO simply maneuvered himself behind the great wroshyr desk.

"Grand Moff Fortan." The chilly tone went. "An honor to have you here."

"How can Iron Crown Enterprises be of service?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The door opened; Natasi's head turned, presenting her profile. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and sweat prickled uncomfortably under her blonde wig. She and [member="Darell Irani"] had parted ways some weeks ago, but it still felt odd -- unnatural -- not to rise and present her cheek for a kiss. Well, the joke was on Natasi; she could not stand and would not present her cheek.

So he hates me. That should make this so much less awkward, Natasi thought sardonically. She waited for him to get closer, to stand behind his desk, then moved her coat over to one of the guest chairs in front of the massive slab of wroshyr, exposing the grotesque functionality of the hoverchair that she was, for the time being at least, confined to. "Forgive me for not getting up," she said dryly, her lips twisting into a half-grimace, half-smile.

She cleared her throat, suppressing the lump that grew there. "Grand Moff Fortan isn't here. She is back on Dosuun, tucked up safely in Number Ten. She never left the city, much less the capital." Natasi stroked her ring finger anxiously, frowning thoughtfully. She brushed the unnaturally golden hair away from her face, exposing her dark eyes like two deep, black pools, and studied him carefully. "And I'm not here on business -- exactly. I came as a friend, to tell you -- " Her voice dropped off and she again looked back.

"Are we alone?" she asked, reaching up to touch her necklace as if it was some sort of talisman of protection. "Are we quite alone?"

 

[Jairus Starvald]

No sign of emotion was displayed at the display.

"I see you found yourself in quite the... bind." Irani finally said then, while passively studying the hover-chair she found herself in at the moment. Of course, inside it was quite a different story. Inside of himself there was a barely restrained fury. There was only one person who was allowed to touch her, break her if he wished, yet, this was not the time for that.

Perhaps it would never be the time for that.

"As for your question, Grand Moff. Nobody will ever know what transpired in this room."

This might have sounded ominous, especially considering she knew what he was capable of and what Irani was. It were only words, though, no matter the case- Darell was never going to jeopardize a profitable business relationship for pettiness.

"I am listening."

Simple and to the point.

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi hesitantly turned her head back towards Irani, studying him for a few moments before she eased her chair forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. "I'm taking rather a large risk being here," she told him cautiously. "I hope you can take it for what it is." She frowned and cleared her throat. "It's not public information yet, but the Supreme Leader has been dealing with some... issues... relating to his efforts to include Sith fleeing from the One Sith. He is learning that, in certain circumstances, the Sith are unable to suppress some of their more base instincts of creating conflict and destruction wherever they go. Without going into too much detail and boring you, some conflicts have arisen which have made our arrangement... untenable."

Her dark eyes peeked out from beneath the blonde fringe that the wig provided as a sort of canopy, seeking out some signal that her message was being taken on board. As usual, she was completely in the dark where [member="Darell Irani"] was concerned. He gave nothing away. She cleared her throat and went on: "The policy of the First Order, where declared Sith are concerned, will be changing in the near future. The Supreme Leader will be leading the charge to safeguard First Order citizens and property against the destructive tendencies of the Sith by requiring all Sith within First Order worlds to convert and adhere to the guidelines of the Knights of Ren, or face death."

Natasi paused again, then went on: "I came here to tell you that I never said a word about your status, and I never will. If your status as a Sith is under wraps and no one knows, I don't see a reason why it shouldn't stay that way." Her dark eyes studied his face for a few moments before looking to the side, her dark eyes glacial as they took in her surroundings.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

"I am glad that the First Order has come to its senses and will cease to condone these Sith rabble." It took a moment, before calculation started tinkling at the end of his blue eyes and the words started to flow into the room. In truth, the words that were said weren't untrue or inaccurate, but the wider message hidden inside was understood between the two.

Part of him wondered why he didn't just scrub her memory clean when she left him.

It would have been safer, for him... for her, for the both of them, really.

But Darell did not have the heart to do it -- he wondered if she thought about that very question, why he hadn't taken his greatest secrets from her and left her a clean slate -- perhaps because it would permanently close a door. One he still would have opened, if his pride was not in the way of it.

"They are chaotic creatures. Difficult if not impossible to control. Prone to selfish acts of destruction and petty indiscretions. No, I would say that finally dealing with them will only serve to aid in the Order's prosperity."

His head cocked slightly.

"Thank you for bringing me this news, Grand Moff."

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi opened her mouth to respond, but found that she had nothing left to add. He clearly didn't want to see her; she would have bet all the money in her pockets against all the money in his pockets that in his eyes her biggest sin was wounding his pride. The fact that he cared for her, but only in his own way, had justified her leaving their relationship in the rearview. The truth was, Natasi had needed him in different ways since the day they first met. She had never felt the reverse was true. To be sure, he wanted her. The attraction between them was undeniable. But had he ever needed her? In the same way that she needed him? She couldn't say, but she had been willing to bet that he didn't. He wasn't the kind.

At one time they would have been a matched set. Before Hoth -- before Imogen and Arandel and bloody snow -- she would have gone to great lengths to prove that she needed no one. But something had changed her during her time in icy captivity. Perhaps the events since then -- the loss of use of her legs being only the most recent, but the Omega Crisis had played its part, and her ascension to Grand Moff, and the mishandling of her heart at the cold, cruelly indifferent [member="Ludolf Vaas"] -- perhaps these events had moved her closer to those days. But the time for such soul-searching was not in the office of a man who loathed her. She cleared her throat and swallowed audibly, then lowered her hands to the controls of her chair. "That's all -- I -- "

Her voice dropped suddenly. Her fingers shifted on the still-unfamiliar controls, and her chair lurched backwards, then turned and twitched forward before moving towards the door. She reached up, her hand resting on the switch to open the door, but she hesitated, finally turning after a few moments. "It wasn't because I didn't love you, you know. That probably doesn't help, and that I deserve every bit of your hatred, but life is messy. I loved you and I probably still do, but now I'm in this damn thing and you're -- you're who you always were. Life is messy." She hit the switch and clumsily maneuvered her chair around to face the door, edging her way forward carefully to avoid slamming into the doorframe.

[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Yet in that single instance the chair would no longer move.

Not forward, backward, sideways, she would even notice that it didn't hum anymore. It was completely frozen in the air, as if being held simply by the grace of a different kind of power. Not the technical, but just as complicated, if not more. Had she even the slightest acumen towards the ways of the Force, she might have realized what had happened.

"You couldn't have made it easy for me, could you." The voice was softer now. The cold was gone, but there wasn't much warmth in it either. It simply was. Drifting in the room, before finding its way to her.

She couldn't move.

But Natasi could hear him standing up by the way of the leather cracking under the shift of the weight. Could hear it in the way his boots clicked against the brushed durasteel floor and then... could feel it, as his warm hand settled itself on her shoulder.

"Peace is a lie... there's only passion." The Sith whispered, suddenly closer than before. "Hate? Never. I loved you then and love you now. It's not hate that drives me, it's the anger that you left me when I finally found someone with whom I could share..."

All of it.

For a moment Irani stood there. Simply. His hand still on her shoulder, like he was pondering options.

But moments were always brief with him, were they not? As soon as ever it disappeared once again, by the way of a shrug and his hand retracted. The strange Force that kept her there dissipated as well. He didn't wait for her reply, instead simply turned around and went for his seat again.

What more was there to say?

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The chair whirred under the train of the repulsor as it struggled to gain traction. The chair's internal computer couldn't account for the Force, couldn't understand why it was unable to move forward. Even before Natasi realized what was happening, the computer had shut down and begun its self-diagnostic. Natasi's dark eyes cut to the small screen's status readout, then sighed and rested her elbow on the armrest, tensing when [member="Darell Irani"] put his hand on her shoulder. His words were familiar, the way he spoke, the cadence of his sentences were like an old friend. Again, she turned her head, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Do it, she thought to herself. Just snap the neck. Finish it all. Please.

"That makes one of us," Natasi said coolly. "But it's all academic now, Darell." She rested her elbow on the armrest and cradled her forehead in her palm. "Perhaps you aren't best pleased with it, but at least my timing was impeccable." She gestured down to the chair and sighed. "It's better this way, don't you think?"

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

"You disappoint me, Natasi." Irani rebuked gently or as gently as possible in his current state of being. He did not redirect himself, though, instead opting to finish his walk to his desk. Instead of seating behind it, he leaned against it and watched her. Observed her seat and the head just about popping up over the chair.

"After all this time, you still assume I am like any other man." A smile, rueful, tugged at the corner of his mouth. "In for the cheap tricks, out when the going gets tough."

He shook his head.

"Your current predicament would not have been an impediment for my feelings or actions."

A hand waved.

"So no, I do not think it is 'better this way'." He lingered there for a moment, pondering if he should add something. In truth, this was the frankest he had ever been to anyone ever in existence. It went completely against his being. Against the Sith in him whispering caution, yet, here he was. She was. Didn't look like she cared much about him being honest with her, though. Which was probably an answer in its own right.

So instead he stayed silent and wondered.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"I always did," Natasi responded, her voice as cold and dry as a drought on Hoth. "But in this case, you misunderstand my meaning. I didn't think you would abandon me because of this... this...," she waved vaguely at her chair. "I thought you wouldn't. And that -- well -- that was the problem, don't you see?" She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked at [member="Darell Irani"] with some measure of irritation and affection. "It is an impediment -- of course it is an impediment, Darell. Everything we planned -- marriage and children, a boy and a girl -- it's all gone now. And I couldn't -- and wouldn't -- want you to have to deal with that. To lose out on those opportunities. It's mandatory for me, if the doctors are to be believed. But it's optional for you."

She paused and looked down at her hands; she had nearly rubbed her pinky raw against her ring finger. She made herself stop. "Maybe you think that should be your decision," she began. "But I can't trust you to make it. I'll be the one who carries the guilt of preventing you from living the life you should have lived. Who denied you a real marriage and children, a future and a legacy. Maybe you can accept that life, but I won't watch you live it, knowing it's my fault. I can't."