A Continuous Link That is Always In Sync - That's Logistics!

[Natasi Fortan]

The battle for the hearts and minds of Coruscant raged not in the streets or in the skies, but in the offices and the board rooms, in the spaceports and the market squares, in the spacious verandas of 500 Republica and in the cramped hidey-holes of the Coruscant Liberation Front. It was, while not necessarily a physical war of a battle, certainly a long and tiring one. Natasi Fortan was on hour fourteen of her fifteenth straight twenty-hour day, and in her experience hour fourteen was right about the time she declared that she was finished and swore that she would recommend to High Command that the planet be slagged from orbit.

Somehow, it never turned out that way. Somehow, whether through the skillful application of a glass of Herevan Reserve whisky, or by some trick of magic scheduling by Imogen, it would become bearable. Bearable enough, at least, to continue for a little while longer before falling asleep in her office with a briefing book on her lap. Why did she do it? Was she touched by the plight of the wartorn Coruscanti? Not hardly. She had ambitions, and had long since given up hope of inheriting Herevan Hold and her father's title and fortune, and Lord Emrin had soon thereafter cooled his affection towards her - though he kindly invited her to retain the exquisitely expensive black diamond engagement ring. So she would not inherit a noble title, nor marry one, at least the ones she had had in mind.

Therefore, it was up to Natasi to make a name for herself. And she did it by being the first one to the office, the last one to leave, and the most productive member of the staff there.

Glancing at her chrono, Natasi was about to call out to Imogen that she was going down to the mess to get something to eat when her slight, fair-haired cousin appeared in the doorway. "Your next appointment is here."

Natasi blinked weariness from her eyes and looked at her chrono again. "It's ten-thirty, Immy. What are you doing scheduling me -- I can't be seen to go deepthroating around in the middle of the night, it's --"

"It's about those crates taking up space in Hangar A-91," Imogen replied coolly, and the memories came flooding back. Ahh, yes. The crates - surplus medical supplies that had been dumped unceremoniously in her hangar. They were rapidly approaching their expiration date and, frankly, were not fit to be applied to Organizational Personnel - a name Natasi coined because saying 'The One Sith' just sounded silly to her. She wanted them gone, and she wanted them gone quickly. But if she could get something for them... "A certain..." Imogent checked her datapad and quirked an eyebrow, letting a tone of subtle amusement creep in: "Darth Janus... has responded to our office's offer."

"Ah. Then of course I am prepared to receive whoever came. See them in. And then coffee."

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Coruscant had no shortage of underclass; people who didn't fill out census forms and generally lived day to day on drugs, thievery, and were utterly homeless. Finding them was not the problem. Enticing them into resettlement with (sincere) promises of decent living conditions, proper jobs, and appropriate paychecks was also not the problem. The problems mostly lay in making them fit for labor in the first place. As they usually came, they were addicted to at least three forms of Death Sticks and hadn't have a proper meal once in their entire, miserable existences. Most of them were also uniformly ill. Generally with the common cold or a different disease that was easily treated by a doctor, if only they could afford it.

Well, now they needn't afford it. Few would have guessed the arrival of the One Sith on Coruscant would bring free healthcare to the poor, but it did.

Naturally, Coruscant had a seemingly unlimited supply of underclass and a distressingly finite supply of everything else. Darth Janus persevered in his duties to put these paupers back to work regardless. Someone needed to do it. Besides, a dear friend of his required Force Sensitives for a resettlement scheme of her own she was working on. What few Force Sensitives he did dredge up were sent her way, to parts unknown. If he was to be of any use to her, he was going to need to get them to her alive. And for that reason he needed medical supplies.

Some buffoon had gone and shoved them into someone else's hangar, and now Janus had to march himself over to some office on the other side of town to see about requisitioning them. An annoyance to be sure, but he had endured worse. He arrived early, dismissing his bodyguards outside the building. No need to have them cluttering up the place. When Tyrin was finally admitted into the office, he was mildly surprised to see who was running this particular show. Natasi Fortan more or less looked exactly like she had the last time he saw her. Desk, piles of paperwork, and all. And here he thought she had put serving Sith behind her. Then again, Tyrin also once thought he put his service to the Sith behind him. Funny how that worked.

Tyrin raised his eyebrows. About as visible a display of his surprise as he would permit. "Oh, I must be hallucinating. I take it Galidraan must have been a bit dull if you've come to file paperwork for another resurgent Sith entity."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi didn't look up when the visitor came in, nor did she look up when he approached the desk. She was too busy shuffling important papers around. You'd think, this far into the future (or at least, this far into the future from a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away), the office would be paperless. But alas, no, because Natasi needed to do something that she could describe for a paragraph or so to communicate that she was both busy, industrious, and dedicated to her work. Got all that?

The reference to Galidraan, on the other hand, caused her slender shoulders to stiffen and she glanced to the side, her eyelids lowering as she tried to source the voice. She grasped, mentally, but nothing came directly to mind. Finally, she turned and looked at her visitor just as her cousin Imogen appeared in the doorway. She had overheard, clearly, and her eyebrows were knit together curiously, looking a bit concerned.

"Sorry, have we met?" she asked, but she didn't pause for an answer before doing a quarter-pivot to the door and sternly intoning: "Yes, what is it Imogen?"

"Coffee," replied Imogen, who was staring curiously at the back of Janus' head. "Should I..."

Natasi gave her guest an apologetic half-smile and gestured towards the corner of her desk. "Yes, please. We can help ourselves." She waited for her cousin set the tray of coffee down before turning back to Janus. "Sorry - have we met before? You don't look Galidraani," she said with a little smirk.

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Natasi didn't recognize him immediately, though that should have been expected. It was the long hair. Tyrin's magnificent platinum mane tended to throw a lot of people off. Or have them burst into laughter. Whatever the case, Janus' exemplary midlife crisis would at least throw off most suspicions that he was at all related to the last well-meaning Emperor of the Sith Empire. That guy had worn nothing but masks. And he was generally bald with ridiculous red eyes when not so. Totally not Darth Janus. This Umbaran couldn't be further from that description.

The mention of Galidraan brought the assistant scurrying back into the room, looking perplexed. Tyrin stepped out of the way so she could put the coffee down. Once she had gone, Natasi spoke back up.

"We have. Several times, mostly on a battleship in orbit of Raxus Secundus." Tyrin sauntered over, approaching the desk. "But I suppose it was a dull affair if you don't recall."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi busied herself pouring a cup of coffee for her guest and then for herself. "Raxus Secundus," Natasi said thoughtfully, her head bowed over the coffee tray. "I did have extensive business there a short while ago during my time with the Sith Empire, but -- " The sugar tongs clanked onto the scratched surface of the tray.

Was it to be believed? She had always believed that her onetime employer Tyrin Ardik was dead. But had it ever been confirmed? He had been deposed from the Imperial Throne, and what happened when one was deposed from the Imperial Throne was usually death. And she had never seen hide nor hair of him since. In a fit of patriotic loyalty, she had penned a fiery letter of resignation upon receiving news of the coup, and had been personally gratified when, like night must follow day, the Empire collapsed without his skilled leadership. She realized by this point that her mouth was hanging open, but thankfully she was still staring at the tray with her back to her guest, a situation that she quickly rectified.

"Can it be true?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she turned to face [member="Darth Janus"]. She put her hand on her desk to brace herself as her dark eyes studied Janus. "The hair is all wrong," she whispered, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a hopeful smile.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

It was fun watching people come to realizations on their own rather than just straight up telling them things. One would think Tyrin would get to do such a thing a little more often, considering he was the former Emperor of a bloodthirsty nation of Sith. For the most part, everyone he had interacted with since that time either already knew of his former identity (and thusly did not care), or were blissfully unaware and there was no real reason to tell them. Frankly, flaunting such a fact around would probably get him killed sooner rather than later. Hence why he usually kept it more to himself.

She started whispering all dramatically, which was rather annoying, as Tyrin now had to strain to hear her. He managed to pick up what she said regardless. A mostly rhetorical question and an expression of surprise over his decision to increase the length of his hair. Tyrin's right hand moved to brush the top of his magnificent platinum mane, almost as if seeking confirmation to whether or not growing it out in such a manner had been a good idea.

It still was.

"Well, yes, it probably is." Tyrin answered, downplaying his own excitement by acting as coolly and casually as possible. Because that was how he did. "And I'd say the hair is all right. Took some getting used to, though."

Oh, now he was smiling as well. That wasn't cool.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"It certainly does make one want to stroke it," Natasi said in a dazed tone, her dark eyes entirely glazed over before she remembered that she was awake, that this was not a dream (of this she could be certain, for her recurring dream of Tyrin Ardik had never involved long, gossamer locks, but rather his war mask, the chair in his office on the Lucrehulk, and a pair of elbow-length opera gloves), and snapped herself back to the present. She suddenly was self-aware enough to step out from behind the desk and sweep Tyrin a low curtsy, for in her book he was the only Emperor the galaxy needed.

"I thought you were..." she said, rising from her curtsy and taking a half-step forward. "We thought... we all thought. Where have you been all this time?" Natasi asked breathlessly, her pulse racing. "If I had known, I would have come. There are more, many more who would rally to your side!"

This was a Natasi very few got to see, a Natasi that had some fire in her blood and color in her cheeks. A Natasi that was ready to take on the world, then crush it.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

"I appreciate the sentiment." Tyrin replied, watching as Natasi stood up. Wait, what was she doing?

"Oh, no, don't do..." Tyrin trailed off as she went ahead and did a low curtsy. Embarrassing, almost. Thankfully no one was watching.

At least she wasn't groveling. Tyrin couldn't stand groveling. Too much groveling had taken place off-screen during his tenure as Emperor. Largely because many naval officers expected to be executed if a petty smuggler happened to circumnavigate their ships. Be that as it was, the whole bowing-in-his-presence thing had never sat well with him. It struck him as over-the-top and unnecessary. Even more so now that his claim to authority was essentially no greater than any other pencil-pushing bureaucrat. This kind of aversion was probably why he had been kicked off the throne in the first place.

Tyrin cringed inwardly at the we comments. Were there some that would rally to his side? Tyrin found that incredibly hard to believe. He really didn't want to spoil the moment for Natasi anyway, though that was bound to happen at some point. He instead just went to answer her question.

"I went home, like you. Nothing you or anyone else would rush to rally to, I must confess. Just simple government work. First on Umbara and then on Hypori."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"You were always modest," Natasi said. She poured a cup of coffee for the Sovereign and walked over to him, holding it out by the saucer like the trained hostess she was, a smile gracing her lips for a moment before she turned around and went back to the tray, resuming making her own cup. "Too modest, really. I think you went too far in the opposite direction from most monarchs - you didn't have enough sycophantic yes-men around."

The Commissioner lifted her coffee to her lips and took a sip before setting it down on her desk. She took a seat on the arm of the chair and gestured widely to the room at large. "Please make yourself comfortable. I was going to take this opportunity to wring some concession or another out of your office. Before I knew who was in your office. I mean, before I knew who [member="Darth Janus"] was. But that's obviously not going to happen now."

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Janus graciously accepted the coffee handed to him before moving to take a seat in the chair across from Natasi. He continued to grimace on the inside as his history as a monarch continued to be spoken of. That was, perhaps, the one bit of Sith history Tyrin would like the galaxy to do without.

"Well, someone had to be. Regardless, I had just the right amount of brown-nosers about to invoke suicidal thoughts." He sipped some of his coffee. The Umbaran was not a big drinker of anything that wasn't water, save for a fine wine on special occasions. Janus did not find that he needed much else to get through life, so there wasn't much reason to bother. Natasi mentioned that she had originally intended to gain some kind of concession from his office, which was a mistake.

"Oh, by all means. What is it you're lacking here? I'm sure I can acquire anything you would need, within reason."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi couldn't help but smile. Her entire world had been turned upside down this evening, and while this would have normally flapped her something awful, now she found herself delighted by the feelings of uncertainty and nerves. She lifted her coffee to her face and smiled over the rim of it at Tyrin. "What does anyone need, milord? Good manners," she replied glibly after taking a sip of the steaming caff. "Interesting conversation. Things that tend to be in short supply in the bureaucracy..." She rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Nonetheless you shall have the supplies free and clear. Can you imagine a universe in which I would seek to extricate some sort of concession from you, of all people, in exchange for -- well, anything, really?" She shook her head with a chuckle. "Out of curiosity, what is it you need with medical supplies? It seems rather a far cry from your grand plans in the Raxus system."

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Tyrin snickered, using that to play off the smile that kept showing up. When was the last time he had smiled for a reason that wasn't because he had condescended to or insulted someone straight to their face? Or beat them up, or forced it... Too long. He needed to get out more, clearly. Were it not for those aforementioned instances, the muscles responsible for facial expression would have atrophied long, long ago.

He wanted to press the issue of helping her along in her own bureaucratic business, but decided not to. Tyrin would likely find a way to go about doing so regardless of her reluctance to accept help. Rarely did this particular Umbaran offer that kind of assistance purely out of the desire to make things run more smoothly. He simply made a tsk noise and took another sip of his coffee before moving on to the next order of business.

"Oh, you're making me nostalgic. Maybe a little bitter. Some Jedi facsimile now holds sway over Raxus. It crushes me, truly."

He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. Some day, hopefully soon, Raxus would be free of their ineptitude. Never mind that his actual homeworld was being lorded over by the Republic and defiled by a fortress of actual Jedi. He hadn't governed that system. It wasn't the same.

"At any rate, the destitute of Coruscant are frequently the most vulnerable to disease. If they are to be put back to work and forged into contributing members of society, it's better they not be dropping in droves from disease. Does wonders for worker morale, that."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"That will never do," Lady Natasi replied with a short tsk, in response to his description of the situation in the Raxus System. "Jedi... do you my mother was Bakuran, a follower of the Balance," she explained, her hand going to her chest almost reflexively, where her mother's balance pendant hung on a silver chain. "So I was raised with a kind of inbred distrust of those gifted with the Force. I learned... well, from you and others, that the Sith are not to be feared. Not if you are on the right side of things."

She paused and took a sip of her coffee. "The Jedi on the other hand, with their flexible principles and self-righteousness... I'd say the Balance has the score right on them. But if you want to go and scrape those sad little monks out of the Raxus system, you know where to find me."

His plans for the workers of Courscant seemed more or less sound. "I suppose so," she replied with thoughtful nod. "I don't know how I can help, but if there is any way I hope you'll let me know. This office will facilitate your plans in any way we can."

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

The corner of Tyrin's mouth twitched. Surely she wasn't serious about her stance on Sith and Jedi. Tyrin himself was a Sith, and even as he were now he would more quickly trust a Jedi over one of his colleagues. Sith, by and large, were all lunatics. Even the ones he didn't completely hate and Tyrin found himself more aligned with than opposed on the axis of Law and Chaos. The rest of them... Degenerates. Rabble with magical powers and no sense of discipline. Two of them had slaughtered countless medical personnel on Alderaan. Skilled, talented workers- wasted! He would fix that problem if he could, but there was little else to do but stand around and hope they all die out one day. Unfortunately for the galaxy at large, they bred faster than they died off. A great, great tragedy.

"Well, that certainly is an optimistic view of the Sith." Tyrin conceded, leaving out that it was also a rather... Unpopular one. Maybe she was just giving lip service.

"I imagine those 'Jedi' will collapse under their own oafishness before anyone gets around to evicting them. Though I'd appreciate your support if they manage to defy their logical fate. But, I must say, I'm much more interested in if there's anything I can help you with."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi raised a hand. "Not at all optimistic, really," said Natasi. "Realistic. At least with Sith you know where they stand. They stand for themselves, and that's something you can count on. At least they are constant - not like Jedi, who can shift and switch their stripes depending on some sort of fluctuating moral code... and then to hold themselves out as some sort of paragon of justice and virtue, well --" She waved a hand dismissively, her other hand still holding her coffee, her motions so perfectly smooth that there was no rippling of the dark fluid.

"That does seem to be their way, doesn't it?" she asked with a bemused smile. The Jedi were never so happy as when they were botching attempts at self-government. "Warrior poets can hardly be expected to run a government, can they? They can barely create a functioning code, let alone a constitution."

Natasi rose and set her coffee down, going to the desk and picking up the pot. "Shall I refresh you, m'lord?" Without waiting for an answer, she topped off his cup. "The great raison d'etre of my Commission is to deal with those wretched Liberation people," she said before setting down the coffee pot, and for a moment she felt rather like a caricature of her own aristocratic self. Speaking old Coruscanti for no other reason than because she could, like in the drawing room back at Herevan Hold, it was a little absurd, she had to admit. "So far we have had trouble rooting them out. A planet of a trillion people makes their job rather easy and my job father difficult."

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Raison d'etre. A two word phrase had never come so close to making Janus swoon as that one had. He did not protest getting his coffee topped off, as he had since decided that protesting against aid from Natasi was roughly akin to protesting Coruscant's orbit around the sun. Tyrin simply nodded and took another sip of his coffee, endeavoring to actually finish it this time. She seemed to have it spot on regarding reasons to distrust and loathe the Jedi, perhaps more so than Tyrin. He wasn't so much concerned with opposing them for any other reason than that they opposed him and the people he aligned himself with. Any reasoning beyond that fluff.

"The Liberation Front? You have your work cut out for you."

Janus set his coffee down for a moment to scratch at his chin. "My people deal a lot with the target audience of the Liberation. So far as I can tell, they only exist so far as their name does."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"That's a relief," Natasi replied. She stood and set her coffee down on the corner of the desk and went around to the chair, rolling it to the side so that she could stand at the center and shuffle through some of her papers. "Certainly they haven't done anything major, but I do believe that anything calling itself a Liberation Front should be stopped before they begin." She flipped open a folder and looked down her nose at the flimsiplast within.

"They're certainly hard to pin down," she conceded, then pressed her lips together. "Do you know, Your Lordship, is it possible that we might work together again. If we can win the hearts and minds of Coruscant's little people, it would make it all the more difficult for this sad little 'liberation front' to get a foothold among them. And they'll believe anything we tell them about them."

She glanced up at Tyrin and raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Have you any thoughts on the matter, m'lord?"

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Janus said nothing, preferring to listen intently for the moment. Though he did have his fair share of informants scattered around the under-levels, he suspected Natasi would know more of the Liberation Front. She was the one actively investigating them, after all. To Tyrin, they were little more than background noise. Irrelevant, tedious, and possibly even cliche background noise. Since they had neglected to even attempt to hinder anything, he was mostly unconcerned.

"I would happily work with you again. And please, I'm not the Lord of anything any longer."

He reclined in his chair slightly, folding one hand over the other on his lap.

"There is precious little intelligence on the Liberation Front. They have done nothing of significance, and I am skeptical that they are anything more than a fantasy conjured up by a single dissident that just happened to get spread around. If that's the case, like all rumors, it will eventually die and we'll stop hearing about it."

"Taking action now, such as cracking down on those spreading the rumors, pinning crimes on them, or even framing them for crimes will only result in us confirming their existence. Why else would the One Sith respond to something like that unless it were a credible threat? That will only cause more problems in the long run. I also doubt the populace at large would accept anything we fabricated about them as the truth. All that will result is more willing joiners and sympathizers of a resistance front."

Janus reached for his coffee, taking a moment to drink down some of the contents before concluding. "The best course of action would be to more closely monitor potential targets and make preparations to respond and counter any move they make. Continuing to make inquiries in and around the seedier districts of Coruscant might turn up some usable intelligence as well. But what do I know, anyway?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi studied her one-time sovereign, her dark eyes tracing his features studiously. "I've been tasked with eliminating the problem," Natasi said uncertainly, glancing away from him and going to the window. The window didn't overlook anything important, only the side of the next building. But it helped to have something to look at outside. "I suppose I have some flexibility in determining how that works. And I do have concerns that over-reacting to their presence might create some sort of draw..." She stroked her chin thoughtfully and chewed her lower lip, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I've asked an agent to see what they can find out about the organization," said Natasi warily. "When he has a better picture of what's going on I can determine whether further action is required," she continued and paused for a few moments. "Any rate -- I trust you'll be in touch with me if you hear anything of use?"

She paused as she lifted her cup to her lips again. "Actually, I hope it's not too forward to say I wouldn't mind if your office... that is to say, if you would be in touch with me... or... my office." She flushed and closed her eyes, rolling her eyes behind her lids. "I'm sorry, that was idiotic."

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

Tyrin nodded his head candidly. "Should anything be brought to my attention, you will be the first person I notify."

He was pleased to learn that the Liberation Front were being handled by a dedicated department, and that the department was headed by someone half-way competent. Tyrin had almost begun to worry he would have to handle it himself. Sith Empires are usually so starved for dedicated departments and bureaucracies.

"Not at all idiotic or too forward." Tyrin shifted in his seat, reaching into his pocket for something. "I normally refrain from handing these out. An error with the printer had them put my personal comm number on them."

A business card was produced, which Tyrin gladly handed off to Natasi. "It's much easier to reach me this way, should you need anything. Do you have one of your own, or would you prefer I call your office?"