https://youtu.be/tdZz0gLJZyA
Jaius and Natasi's Love Theme
Location: FIV
Concordia
Objective: Lead
Allies: The First Order | [member="Kou'ha Escala"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Durgan Ossk"] | [member="Sogash"]
Enemies: The Outer Rim Coalition | The Galactic Alliance | Spirited Teens | Scruff-Bearers | Grandeur-Deluded Beskar Jockeys
Natasi frowned slightly. She had the distinct impression that [member="The Major"] found her social graces to be somewhat out of scope. But to the Grand Moff, remaining pleasant and polite, remaining
herself in the face of all the First Order demanded of her. It was the only way she would be of use to anyone, including the aims of the First Order. She brushed the feeling to one side, and inclined her head in a nod.
"Indeed. The sacrifices we make for behaving honorably," she observed wryly.
"This is not the first time we have had what feels like half the galaxy arrayed against us." The Grand Moff looked back to the window.
"I think the Omega Crisis was before your time, but it is a story you will well know, not just because it is well known. You'll know it because it's the same story -- the galaxy can only tell one."
The Grand Moff stood and went to the sideboard where she poured herself a cup of coffee. As she adulterated it with cream and sugar, she spoke on:
"Our neighbors. Them," she jerked her head derisively towards the viewport as if to indicate
everyone else. "As usual, they treated themselves like heroes, clapping themselves on the back for their virtue and service. But when it came to taking the difficult decisions -- when it came to laying down bodies and lives against the Rogue Sith threat, who answered the call? And who hung back?" She smirked.
"The Alliance. The Mandalorians. For a culture dedicated as they claim to honor and martial prowess, it was a humiliation. It is not an exaggeration to say that the First Order saved the galaxy from the Rogue Sith threat, and how were we repaid? With violence and bloodshed and derision. There are moments, Director Shepard, when I wish we had let them take it."
Her coffee thus fixed, the Grand Moff went back to her desk but did not sit at it, but rather leaned against its edge and continued to peer out the viewport through the swirling mist of the coffee's steam.
"Do help yourself, by the way," Natasi said, glancing back to the sideboard.
"If I didn't already offer."
But [member="The Major"] seemed to have other plans; with a request of pardon, the woman turned away, engrossed in some duty or another. Natasi was not quite used to being referred to as
Lady Fortan. The title, which had been cringe-inducingly incorrect but a year ago, was now a proper form of address. There was something allegorical there, Natasi thought as she watched the battle unfolding from her study aboard
Concordia. She was perhaps too much of a stickler for propriety and not enough tolerant of intent. For instance, what was the intent of the people standing in the First Order's way? Were they there to help the Squibs? Did they care? Or were they just here as dogs in the manger, spoiling the efforts of others out of spite? It was odd of the Mandalorians to be here -- representing the Mandalorian Empire or not -- given the recent dustup between the Coalition and Mandalorian forces. What could motivate them to stand here, shoulder to shoulder with the Coalition?
Credits, Natasi wondered,
or perhaps a few too many bumps of the head against beskar. What was their angle? What was
any of their angles?
One man might care, truly, about the plight of the Squibs; he was no doubt present, somewhere in the arena, because Natasi knew that even in
death the Galactic Alliance was incapable of leaving well enough alone. Was he thinking of her now? Wondering where she was? Was he ludicrously worrying about her safety in the combat? She smirked into her coffee cup, but the smirk was a lie. The friendship she had forged with [member="Jaius Sovv"] had been bizarre in the extreme -- perverse, some might have said, given their respective roles in galactic politics. But his presence had steadied her, had clarified her vision, and comforted her during difficult moments. Their conversations challenged her; he was kind but did not let her off the hook, and she had been the same. Having a peer -- well,
almost a peer -- who knew the burdens of statecraft and of war was a value that could not be overstated. And now he was gone, released from his captivity by a treacherous Moff, and subject to Balance only knew what slings and arrows. [member="Jaius Sovv"] was, like Natasi herself, not one for going 'round by the road. He would be in the thick of it, sleeves rolled, up to his dewflaps in danger.
Silly old sausage, Natasi thought to herself. Only to herself would she admit that she worried for his safety. His death would be a boon to the First Order, but the thought of it made the Grand Moff sick to her stomach.
It really is a funny old world, no matter what Director Shepard says. She glanced at her watch and sighed inwardly.
"Director, we ought to take this into the situation room," Natasi declared, gesturing towards the door to the hallway.
"Third door on the right. I'll have Captain Escala patch all data feeds there. I'll be along presently. I just need to, ah, powder my nose." She gestured towards the 'fresher door diplomatically. When the Grand Moff had been left alone, she went to her desk, tapped her communicator, and entered a frequency. A moment later, she was connected with [member="Durgan Ossk"] and [member="Sogash"].
"Pack Alpha, this is Nebula. What is your status?"
