A Little Unsteady [Natasi][Arlen]

[Valessia Brentioch]

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Pemberley Estate, Dosuun.​

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It had been six long months on Thule. Taken more than half way across the galaxy, tortured, starved, beaten, naked and cold were the conditions in which she escaped and made her way back home. She had been home for a little over a week now, [member="Gunther Creed"] was the first to reunite with her when she sent him a singular message, 'coming home, estate.'

To her friend [member="Natasi [/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Fortan[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']"] she would say the same, a singular message, 'at the estate.'

The scars on her body were the physical reminders of what she had endured but the scars that were invisible were the ones that stayed with her. Were the scars that haunted her dreams and called out to her. Voices in the dark whispered to her what she was to be, what she struggled with - she has solidified her want and desires. And yet as she fought the madness, Valessia wondered if she had succumbed to them anyway. Twisted words wrapping their way around her mind, a broken woman now rested on the front porch chairs looking out onto the grounds of the estate. She had sworn if she had not told Gunther the nature of her time on Thule then she would not tell Natasi. The Scion of House Brentioch regarded Natasi and Gunther as her closest confidants and friends outside of Edra. The Avalonian winds carried with them the whispers and hopes of those she loved, praying for her safe return. Praying that no harm had come to Valessia Brentioch, and as she watched the grounds bend for the wind her mind flashed to the darkened chamber on Thule. The feel of the cold duracrete that crushed her body, the sounds of her stomach - silenced by hunger pangs she had grown to ignore. Her hand took hold of a small glass of tea that rested on the end table beside the chair, as she waited for [member="Arlen[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] Rossi"].

Pemberley had been a gift to her, by Natasi. Surviving, fighting off the Ssi-Ruuk the same event that cost the Grand Moff her ability to walk. Valessia's eyes twitched at the memory of seeing her best friend's condition. Helpless, it had been out of her control just like the Eye on Cormond. When her girls had suffered at the hands of the police that were supposed to protect them. The corruption throughout the district had been enough to make her sick, and this - this [member="Darth [/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Prazutis[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']"] knew, he knew his apprentices' desires. And now as she rose from her seat walking toward the white wooden rails of the porch she pushed the memory back. Reminding herself that she had survived, she endured and she was here, stronger for it. Closing her eyes momentarily, she could hear Issari's voice in the back of her mind. "Am I not you? Are you not me? Fret not my dear, you needn't worry about a thing."

Opening her eyes their attention was drawn to the cars pulling up to the property.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi glanced passively at the text message on her communicator, eyes flickering at the sender for a moment. She felt a bolt of cold fury. [member="Valessia Brentioch"], who had been missing for months -- who had been completely incommunicado for half a year, which caused Natasi both personal and professional concern. Her feelings on the Panatha Reach, to which Brentioch was the ambassador, were strained already. They were dragging their feet on their abolitionist mandate, there were disturbing rumors about the draconian methods of the Arch-King -- or whatever comically baroque title the man gave himself -- and Sith, apart from giving Natasi Fortan the heebs, were a matter of concern to the Supreme Leader himself.

Valessia's disappearance was simply another straw on the camel's back.

And her announcing her return in such a way -- no backstory, nothing, no explanation -- irritated Natasi immensely. So she turned the screen off on her communicator and flipped it over, ignoring it. She finished her day without looking at the communicator until finally, as she was on her way home, her curiosity got the better of her. She leaned forward to address her driver. "Take me to the spaceport," she instructed him. It was an hour later that her speeder eased to a stop and she exited with the Four Horsement. They asked her to wait while they approached the door and rang the bell. Meanwhile, Natasi took in Pemberly. As usual it wasn't what she would haven chosen for herself, but it wasn't a monstrous carbuncle by any stretch.

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

The sun had just about set over the horizon, the four horsemen conducted their search of the property and Valessia turned over her shoulder. "I'm alright," she whispered to [member="Gunther Creed"] who placed a hand along her shoulder before leaning down to give her a kiss. She let herself fall back into his arms, both of them watched the car and it was Gunther who pulled the Scion away. Taking her hand in his, he led her into the estate that was slowly becoming more of a home. Part of her yearned to tell Gunther, to tell Natasi what had happened and then she reminded herself if either of them learned the truth they would look at her differently and treat her differently. Thule. Panatha Reach. As far as anyone knew, Valessia was simply gone - her office gave people the runaround, she was simply busy with work. Gunther and Natasi knew better, Valessia had always communicated with them and six months of silence was not part of her character. It was a wonder the FOSB hadn't been dispatched and if they had been - they never reached Thule, at least not until @Darth Prazutis allowed them to find her. She wrapped her arms around herself as she crossed through the estate. "I'm fine dear, go upstairs I'll be along shortly."

The Epicanthix gave her another kiss, she could not fault him for not wanting to be apart from her. She did not want to be without him, but this - this was a necessity. She would be debriefed, talked to - looked over, placed on leave whatever the case. Valessia knew that for the moment her service was on hold, and as the faded sunlight danced along the edges of the covered furniture so did her shadow dance along the covered paintings. Slowly her hands fell to her side, and slowly she headed for the library it was on the second floor where she could look over parts of the county. The view from the library was splendid and served to remind the Scion of the additional duties that Natasi had bestowed upon her. "She'll want to know the truth," she said softly, and Darth Issari advised her, "she will never understand the Force."

"She is my friend," Valessia countered, "and Gunther is the man I intend to marry."

"Then the choice is yours, but know - you must pay your price."

"Don't we all?" She said as a maid knocked on the frame of the library. "Yes?"

[member="Arlen Rossi"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

When the search was completed, two of the Horsemen returned to her armored speeder. She was sleek in a pinstriped charcoal suit, covered in a calf-length black trench coat, cinched tight around her trim waist. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a braided bun at the base of her skull, and she wore a black felt fedora perched at a jaunty angle on her head. She didn't mean to look like a femme fatale in a noir holo, but -- well -- sometimes life had a strange way about it. The Grand Moff cast her eye over the grounds as she strolled up the driveway towards the front door. "Have you laid eyes on the madam herself?" Natasi asked coolly, her voice lacking entirely in inflection.

"No, ma'am," was the terse response.

"This may well be a trap, then," Natasi observed, glancing down at her communicator to re-read the cryptic text message. "Stay with me until you get eyes on."

"Of course, ma'am," the Horseman responded. They approached the door and were shown into the foyer of Pemberly. Natasi would have thought the place charming, if not for the fact that it looked entirely disused. The furnishings were covered by dustcloths, and the air smelled strange -- musty, somehow, despite the house being not that old. The Grand Moff cast a critical eye around the place before stopping near the front door. She didn't like the feeling she got by being here, and she was tempted to turn and leave immediately.

But she didn't. Not yet.

[member="Valessia Brentioch"]

 

[Arlen Rossi]

Dosuun. It was rare for the field operative to set foot on the First Order's capital these days, but there was an assignment that required her particular skills. Ambassador Brentioch was back in town, though she hadn't felt the need to formally check in with authorities after being AWOL for the better part of six months. It had only been her status as Ambassador, and her relationship with the Grand Moff that had kept her from being immediately snatched up from her bugged estate and dragged off to a local black site for interrogation. However, Brentioch's staff who had been covering for her enjoyed no such luxuries and were already making the rounds at Quartz.

So, for the past week, the FOSB had carefully tracked Brentioch's movements within the estate, quietly moving operatives into position to stake out the Ambassador's residence, ready to pounce on her in the event she attempted to take flight once more. That's where Arlen found herself now, stuck in the back of a cloaked speeder, enjoying one fine gray Avalonian morning as she monitored the feeds from micro-sensors planted throughout the mansion. Coming off a campaign exterminating a hostile army of cultists and slavers, this assignment watching some clearly disturbed and abused woman pace and lounge around her house was something of a drag, to say the least. However, every day on the job she was treated to free catering brought in from Avalonia, so that was something.

"Look sharp," her fellow agent Goyle called over comms. "It appears that Isolde herself will be running through here soon."

Arlen perked up at that news, letting her steaming mug of hot cocoa rest upon the surface of her console. Isolde was the code name used in her circles for the Grand Moff. Some word from an ancient variant of Basic that roughly translated to iron. A fitting title.

"How I would love to be a fly on the wall," she said, rolling her shoulders. "We'll just have to settle for the next best thing. Does she know about us?"

"Negative, as far as we can tell. Don't think we're supposed to know about her, all the same. We only picked up on this from outbound communications from Pemberly. Isolde's dogs are quite finicky about us tracking her."

"Nothing like good old inter-agency pissing contests. We should probably give them a ring sometime, but for now, I say we just sit tight and observe."

So they did, letting events play out like they weren't even there. Truth be told, Arlen wanted to see how far up this went with Brentioch, and the Grand Moff might be a less forthcoming if she knew she was being actively monitored by those outside her immediate organization. At the end of the day, the FOSB technically reported to the Grand Moff, but they ultimately existed to serve the interests of the Supreme Leader as his eyes and ears. They would root out all seditious elements that threatened his grand vision for the galaxy. Nothing and no one would be allowed to interfere. Everyone was expendable.

((You two have your exchange, then I'll follow up with a formal interrogation session.))

[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

The library's furniture still covered by the slip, specks of dust could be seen in the fading sunlight. "Ma'am the Grand Moff has arrived," the small petite blonde woman told Valessia. Swallowing hard the Ambassador put her hands behind her back and turned to look her servant over. Giving her a soft smile she replied.

"See to it that she's escorted to the library, and have these covers removed, please." Her voice was quiet, tired as her hand moved toward the window and looked out over the county once more. Leaning her head against the frame she folded her arms around herself. Thule had been a trying experience, to say the least, and as her eyes cast their gaze down to her hands again she longed for the tropical rays of a distant world. Taking a breath she exhaled again this time as she turned away from the window she watched as servants uncovered the furniture.

After a few minutes, the library looked presentable. Valessia smiled pleased with the efficiency as she moved to take a seat on the sofa, the sofa's back was to the window with two sitting chairs on either side of it. "Would you like refreshments brought up for the Grand Moff's visit?" The same petite woman inquired she knew not how her new mistress would handle things and thought it best to have asked.

"A simple tray of tea and biscuits will do, thank you." She told the woman who then disappeared down the long corridor.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] would be greeted by a rather tall chap, older looking. "Grand Moff Fortan, if you will please follow me."

[member="Arlen Rossi"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The Grand Moff looked around curiously, her dark eyes taking in every detail. In her mind, it was extremely unlikely that she would ever return to Pemberley. If [member="Valessia Brentioch"] didn't have an excellent reason for breaking every diplomatic protocol -- every personal feeling of friendship and loyalty -- in cutting off communication for half a year, then there was no reason to continue the charade of friendship. Valessia would be disengaged from the diplomatic service and sent on her way. Natasi didn't have time for ambassadors she couldn't trust, any more than she did for friends she couldn't trust. Her eyes were sweeping across the room when an older man entered and greeted her.

"Grand Moff Fortan, if you will please follow me."

"Of course," Natasi said politely. She followed the man, her head on a swivel, eyes always moving. "Is there anyone else on the premises today, aside from my party and the Baroness?" she asked the apparent manservant. She had the distinct impression feeling that she was being watched. But with her Horsemen on the scene, it could just be a stray paranoid vibe she was getting from them.

[member="Arlen Rossi"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

"Just the lord of the manor, ma'am," the servant replied to [member="Natasi Fortan"] as he guided her and her men through Pemberley's halls and up the second level and down toward the library. "Colonel Creed has taken to the annex, you and the Baroness shall have the manor to yourselves." He explained and put a hand to the door and guided it open. "Your worship, Grand Moff Natasi Fortan."

Valessia turned and found Natasi there and her eyes looked down to where the tea had just been set. She didn't smile but rather motioned to the tea, as she took to the sofa plainly. Valessia wore no make-up, her clothing simple as she looked over what was offered. She honestly didn't know how her mother did any of this. The tension was awkward, and the woman decided to get on with the day's meeting as her hands worked their way into her lap. "Do you know the name Darth Prazutis?" She asked Natasi straight, "or perhaps the name he prefers when he's not a Sith Lord. Braxus Zambrano, the so-called God-Prince of Panatha." She licked her lips quietly and held her breath for a moment. "He summoned me to Thule, a meeting he said."

"It was a long meeting," she scoffed, "and the moment I got there, I was taken and stripped of any way of communicating."

Her ship's records and logs would corroborate her story, her personal staff consisting of two aliens and a droid would also confirm the story. "Apparently, he thought I had potential as a Sith."

"And admittedly, it was tempting and I felt that maybe this was the path for me." But six months of torture and going mad have a way of speaking to you.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The Grand Moff stood in the doorway for several long moments, staring at [member="Valessia Brentioch"] coolly from the entry to the door.

She had heard of Zambrano's name in passing -- as anyone would in dealing with the Pacanth Reach -- but knew little about him. The Zambranos were a minor political force on a subject world of the First Order; the fact that the Grand Moff knew their name was giving them perhaps too much import. But one made allowances for diplomatic purposes, and to smooth over their induction into the First Order, the First Order had given the Zambranos unprecedented autonomy over their worlds.

Too much autonomy, the Grand Moff acknowledged in her mind. Far too much.

"I confess myself disappointed, Ambassador," Natasi said curtly; she was an old hand at suppressing her emotions, but her feelings of bitter resentment towards Valessia, and rage towards Zambrano, were making it difficult. "You put yourself and the First Order's diplomatic relations with the Pacanth Reach in grave danger. There will be a full investigation and we may be forced to install a regency or governor-generalship." She paused briefly, lofting her eyebrows. "At the very least, I am forced to suspend your diplomatic credentials. The Minister of Security will direct his agents to confiscate your ship and any materials or papers that were incidental to your work as Ambassador. I wouldn't plan any trips in the foreseeable future."

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

Valessia could run off to Brentaal IV, she had every right to do it. Brentaal IV would keep her and would not extradite her back to the First Order, her family and connections there ran high. Then again, Kallea might do it to prove a point to Carmina. She'd allowed Valessia too much reign in her youth and this was the result. No, it would cause far too much of a mess than what it was worth. "Then you know where to find me," she remarked simply, settling into the sofa. The Scion of House Brentioch gathered that her .. well, whatever they were now would promptly leave and no have much else to say. It was how Natasi operated when things went south, her way of closing off and pushing out the world she knew. Her station and money would afford her what she needed and when she needed it, her diplomatic credentials suspended - she'd have to officially sign over Naval Development to Fiolette Yvarro, no doubt the Admiral would enjoy taking over the reigns.

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi turned; it was a wasted trip, as far as she was concerned. The fact that Valessia had even contemplated pursuing a career as a Sith Lord while purporting to operate as a diplomatic liaison for the First Order was a betrayal of such magnitude that she wasn't sure she would ever be able to look at the other woman in the same light. She was angry, true, and she was hurt personally, but she had overlooked such slights before. The Grand Moff had forged a friendship with Marzena Choi, for heaven's sake, so to call her intransigent would have been an overreach. But this was the First Order they were discussing, braided -- one might say tied tightly -- with their personal relationship.

Valessia knew things about Natasi that most didn't.

Dangerous things.

Damaging things.

Things that could destroy Natasi's image to the citizens of the First Order if they were released. Of course the Ministry of Culture could easily censor it, and naturally they had a file of Valessia ready to go in case they needed to discredit her -- not that Natasi believed it would ever be necessary to use it.

At any rate, it would be irresponsible to assume that the woman had not been compromised. Six months was a lot of time. Anything might have happened. She might have been brainwashed -- reprogrammed, somehow -- and until she could be certain that the Ambassador was operating of her own accord, she couldn't risk her reputation -- her office, the very First Order itself -- for her personal feelings. And yet...

She turned back towards [member="Valessia Brentioch"]. "I'll be sending my personal physician, Dr. Miles Penneford to examine you -- not to probe or prod you -- just to make sure you're all right. Please don't -- " she raised a hand to preempt any argument. "Don't be a martyr. And don't give me that look. This isn't personal. I can't treat you differently than I would treat you anyone else in this position. That's the whole point of the First Order. For heaven's sake, I was investigated after Hoth. Just... cooperate with the investigation and things will be back to normal before you know it."

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

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Valessia's jaw tightened her body tensed in the sofa, and around her, the dust covers of the library revealed the furniture. Her eyes traced the depths of the red fabric on another sofa adjacent to her before they moved to make eye contact with Natasi. Words cannot describe the look she gave her, there was something inside the former Ambassador that wanted to reach out. She waited for the Grand Moff to finish her sentence. Her mouth opened and she was going to reply and then the brunette closed her mouth, whatever she had to say wouldn't really account for much she wagered. Specks of dust in the natural sunlight of Dosuun and Pemberley started to come alive, "did I ever tell you about the trip I took to Dromund Kaas as a child?" She asked as she looked past Natasi rather that at her. "Parents had gone there for a business trip," she paused to lean over and pour the tea that thankfully sat on a small heating pad. "I and a friend wandered off deep into the more ancient parts of Kaas City. Lo and behold there was this tomb, curious. I pursued this, and I walked into this tomb."

She held her hand up a moment and gestured to the seats around them. Natasi could remain standing if she wished, "and I got into the antechamber where I spoke with this spirit, a Sith spirit." The brunette set the tea cup down, "and we talked, they revealed themselves to be a progenitor of mine. My mother's family in fact, and." She settled back into the sofa, "she said to me this, spirit that I would be meant for greater things." A scoff that mocked her own state of being escaped her, "and then I don't recall much of what happened after that, save for the fact that I had two very upset parents."

"I hadn't thought much about that day until recently," in a way her childhood event had very much come to parallel with this one. Her thumb ran along the edge of her knuckles. Only this time there were far greater consequences, "your doctor and whoever else wishes to arrive may do so. I will cooperate with the investigation." There were other affairs to keep her attention and keep her from going mad, "my office should have sent you the preliminary paperwork on Taloraan, and Alexandria the latter of which my fiance was of great assistance with." A small pause again as she leant over to take the cup of tea into her hand. "When your team inspects my Phantom, be sure to have them ask Edra. She's been my personal assistant for ... well, since I was a young woman. She'll show you to all of its compartments."

There was something different here, personal relationship and professional were twisted together. It was that relationship that gave her the benefit of a doubt, and so Valessia looked back out of the large windows.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVslvM30EWI[/media] ​

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[member="Natasi Fortan"]​