Angel, I've Got Something to Tell You [Invite]

[Natasi Fortan]

The plains of Thakwaa were perfectly safe, following the First Order's efforts there. Before, one wouldn't have been able to go out safely with those savages, but since their chemical and intellectual reworking had been completed, they really were the most docile of creatures. The Thakwaash did as they were told, and happily, too. It was a testament to the First Order's scientific and military prowess, and it had been -- if she could be so immodest as to mention it, even in an internal monologue -- all Natasi Fortan's idea.

The tour of First Order space was going swimmingly. Natasi had risen at 0500, checked her messages and read the priority signal from Dosuun, before jotting and handing a note to a page. The page raced across the base to where [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] and his men were staying. They were on liberty for the day, so while there was little to do at that part of Thakwaa for the time being, they could mill about the base as they pleased. There was a Project Genesis Morale Division station there, which the Army had graciously offered to loan to the SFC men, but she doubted sincerely whether von Brinkerhoff would bother.

The note had read: von Brinkerhoff,

Please meet me outside the northern gates at 0525. Wear something to ride in.

NJF

She had not thought to ask von Brinkerhoff if he could ride, and in the end she didn't particularly care. She rode, and that was what mattered. He could run alongside, or -- more likely -- they would walk instead of ride. Her watchers would be on all sides to ensure her safety. The sun hadn't yet risen as she stood with the groom, examining the horse they had provided her. It was grey, unlike the one they had provided for von Brinkerhoff, which was brown and tan. Both handsome creatures and strong. She glanced at her chronometer. 0523.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik had been found relatively quickly by the page dispatched by the Grand Moff, [member="Natasi Fortan"].

The barracks to which his squadron had been assigned for the duration of their stay on Thakwaa was directly adjacent to a secondary outdoor athletic track. This track was rarely used by the base populace itself, the majority opting for one of the larger athletic facilities strewn about the base. Physical fitness conditioning was, after all, leisure activity number one for most military personnel.

Roderik was on his third or fourth lap, still warming up - with running being the captain's favorite exercise, and the benefits of his strenuous aerobic exercise evident in his combat endurance in the cockpit. He was alone, part of the reason why he ran so early, starting no later than 0445. Even a half an hour later would cause an additional body or two to be present on the track, working at varying levels of intensity that served only in interrupting the flow for Roderik's own pace.

At approximately 0510 the page had found him, affording the captain scant time to refresh himself and change into the proper attire for... Riding?

He felt a tinge of nervous but excited anticipation. He had ridden before, far into the past of his youth, but certainly never with regularity, even then. He would be rusty, but not altogether lost.

By the time he arrived - thankfully by way of the page's speeder transport and not by foot, he had broken the allotted time expense by a little more than five minutes, 0532 - or when his scheduled run would have been in full swing.

"Excuse my tardiness, your Excellency." He spoke as he neared Natasi, whom was inspecting her own horse for the upcoming excursion. For a brief flash, Roderik's mind wandered over the fact that this was, most likely, the first time he had ever been late in a meeting with her, although the circumstance was surely worthy of overlooking, it never the less momentarily boded ill in the captain's mind.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLMfMiZ1iGo​

"Let's not make it a habit," Natasi said coolly as she turned to greet him with a handshake. "Good morning. They say the trail's rather good over there, with a few hedges for jumping. It's been ages since I've done it, hedges would have ruined the aesthetic of the park where I ride in Avalonia." From anyone else, this would have seemed like drivel, but coming from Natasi Fortan, whose every word was chosen to communicate a meaning, it might have seemed interesting. Natasi didn't much consider it. "We'll go along the ridge and then circle back from the west. Should take us about half an hour or forty minutes. Would you --?" She turned to the groom, who immediately knew what she was after, and helped her into the saddle.

It was easy to tell whose horse was whose; Natasi's was fitted with a side saddle. Breaking with tradition, at least Galidraani tradition, out of necessity rather than desire, she wore breeches instead of a full riding habit, which rather took away from the effect of the side saddle but it couldn't be helped. When she was settled -- or, indeed, clutching to the saddle with her thighs as if her life depended on it. She took the reigns and leaned forward to pat the horse's neck. It was called Telegraph, for reasons passing understanding, and Roderik's was called Sullinosh.

"Are you ready?" she called over her shoulder to [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"], who was a few meters away with his horse. When all had been situated, the Grand Moff urged her horse into the movement, unable to resist breaking into a wide smile as the horse trotted, then galloped across the savanna, heading for the treeline in the distance.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

"Good morning." He replied politely, along with the exchange of a friendly handshake.

Roderik nodded his agreement with the itinerary of their horseback expedition. His attention turned to preparing himself one final time, as Natasi did the same with the help of an attendant.

Upon mounting his own horse, with little of the grace that [member="Natasi Fortan"] demonstrated, Roderik awkwardly took hold of the reigns, urging his animal, Sullinosh, forward. Attempting to modulate the speed of a sentient animal was nowhere near as simplistic and precise as he was used to in a starfighter cockpit. Undoubtedly the animal could pick up the uncomfortable nature of its rider.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I think." He called from behind the Grand Moff, at the same time attempting to steer Sullinosh alongside Natasi, and, if possible, to match her speed. The animal seemed to be agreeable to Roderik's demands, however.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi continued on the path, eventually slowing to a trot as they approached the wood. "Lovely day for it," Natasi said in her clipped, polished Galidraani accent. The young Grand Moff was a Diana on horseback, having been raised in the saddle from a young age. She had had a dwarf pony at the age of four, graduating to a regular pony at 8, and a full fledged horse at 13. "I knew you could do it," she said, smiling over at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "I can always spot it. You hid it well, but I could tell." She adjusted the netting veil that went over her face to protect from the wildlife with one hand, guiding her horse with the reigns using her other hand. She followed the trail under the canopy of green and gold leaves. The fauna beneath was curious -- gold and purple, blue and green, red and white -- leaves of every color bursting everywhere one looked.

"You've been with me for some time now, Captain," said Natasi conversationally. "And General -- ahh, the first hedge. Shall we? Look, there's a little path that goes around the side if you'd rather go 'round." But Natasi wasn't the type to go 'round by the road. She urged her horse into a gallop, then a run, and just when it looked like they would collide, Telegraph leapt over the hedge as if he was born to do it which, Natasi supposed, he rather was. She looked over her shoulder to see what von Brinkerhoff would do, grinning with the enthusiasm and adrenaline that came with horse jumping.

"What were we -- ahh, yes. You've been with me for some time now," she repeated quizzically. "And yet General Breyer has nothing to say about you. Why, do you suppose? It isn't as if I haven't asked him."

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik had gained some semblance of confidence in his ability to at least remain safely mounted by the time they slowed to a trot.

"It's something that rarely comes up on its own." He said, returning her smile. His own voice lacked the polish of Galidraani high society, or that of any planetary high society. It had been stamped out with years of thoughtful attention, until it became second nature, and finally, until he sounded like any other migrant of the star-lanes. His was the voice of any number of local cultures in the First Order territories, hard to pin-point precisely, but distinctly Imperial in tone.

In his own mind, he spoke with the distinct flair of a starfighter pilot. Whatever that meant, he wasn't quite sure - perhaps flamboyant and prideful, which were strangely at odds with his nature as a well-meaning, good intention'd man. His commitment to discipline and fear of stepping too far out of line also went against the mental image he thought he represented. His flair for theatrics came in the cockpit, with control yoke and rudder pedals. Not in his oratory presentation.

He followed along, guiding Sullinosh along the way with still far less grace and precision than [member="Natasi Fortan"]. He had decided for a more subdued approach, of letting the horse do the most of the navigating. So far it seemed to be working.

"What do you say, friend?" Roderik spoke down to his horse after he watched the Grand Moff's horse stamp off, away into a galloping run. Natasi did not intend to take the path of least resistance, so he made the immediate decision that he should and would not, either.

He shifted into what he thought might make a more suitable riding-and-jumping posture, although he was sure it made him look rather silly, while he stirred Sullinosh into a run of its own. Again he hoped that the horse would have enough presence of mind to jump the hedge with minimal instruction by its rider. Self-preservation, and all of that.

Sullinosh took the hint it would seem, as the animal brought itself and rider to the same precipice-of-crashing-disaster before performing a leap of sufficient strength to propel them safely over and across. Roderik steadied the reigns and came up alongside Natasi slowly, his expression one of excitement and relief combined into one broad smile.

A smile which eased noticeably at the mention of General Breyer.

"I suppose a lot of things, your excellency," Roderik paused to think his next words carefully. Though the Grand Moff and the Captain had grown friendly in his service to her and his tactful but frank advise, she was still his superior in every way and shape, as was General Breyer. Pitting the two against each other would be a lesson in painful futility, he thought - or rather he knew.

"To tell the truth, he is not as open to my dialogue as you have been. He's a man of, well, extreme tradition," He almost spat out the last words, the context readily apparent in his voice. Breyer was a dinosaur. He would not move forward, and it was holding back the Starfighter Corps.

A man unwilling to adapt to changing circumstances was a man already lost, in Roderik's mind.

"He sees me and my ilk as children in danger of stepping out of line."

Although to his credit, the General was not entirely wrong. Roderik did have it out for him, and did want to crash the entire system on top of the General's head, just to see him squirm. Roderik's ideas were no radical at all, and if a few eggs had to be cracked in order to cook the Starfighter Corps omelette, that was fine by him. Top brass were more expendable to Roderik than his wingmen, and in the process a stronger Corps would be forged.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Good show," Natasi complimented [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] as he came down with Sullinosh. She patted Telegraph's neck heartily murmured a few words of encouragement to him, and then they began forward again. The canopy was getting thicker, giving a greenish tint to everything beneath them. The path wound to the right now, and Telegraph seemed to know the way. "I often wonder about Breyer myself," he mused aloud. He certainly doesn't seem particularly interested in my view, though there are conflicting opinions on whether that's because I'm a woman, or because I didn't come up through the military." She rolled her eyes subtly, and then looked over at the Captain.

"Were you with us for Eriadu?" she asked quietly. Even here -- in relative seclusion -- Eriadu was a taboo subject. The First Order's actions were, to Natasi's mind, a stain on the dignity of their nation. She was perhaps the only one in the Supreme Leader's inner circle who felt that way. Vaas wanted to burn every infidel he found alive, and though Natasi had no love for infidels, she did not count civilians on enemy worlds as infidels or traitors. She perhaps was alone in that.

"Breyer wasn't just supportive of the Eriadu plan. The term bloodlust doesn't even touch it," she seethed. She really couldn't stand the man, but that was another story. "Sometimes I wonder what they think building a nation is."

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik kept pace alongside [member="Natasi Fortan"] with a greater degree of confidence showing in his posture. He was beginning to trust Sullinosh, and the horse in turn, showed reciprocity by not bucking wildly or performing otherwise unsatisfactorily.

"I would wager a bit of both." He said in regards to her gender or profession being a point of contention with General Breyer.

His expression soured somewhat at the mentioning of Eriadu, but he did his utmost to keep from displaying neither contempt nor disgust.

"I was." He said quietly in return, pausing noticeably before adding, "Not there, but I heard the stories. I know the reports."

He looked over to Natasi, his eyes filled with regret. It was obviously a sore subject for the captain, as well.

"That was early on in my flying days. My squadron was escorting the evacuation forces. We had already jumped out when it happened."

They both knew what it referred to. Roderik found it beyond distasteful, beyond contemptible. He had never truly spoken out about it, not even to the few true friends he had in the Starfighter Corps, such as [member="Pierce Fortan III"], the Grand Moff's own cousin, and [member="Nils Brenner"], one of their fellow pilots, and another distinguished flying veteran. They knew that their commander had a soft heart - it wasn't a rare time when Roderik would let a crippled enemy limp home rather than confirm the kill, but they didn't fully know to what extent that heart extended - though they surely knew his chivalry ended when his squadron or Starfighter Corps brethren were in danger.

"Not everyone we fight is our enemy." He added, and truly believed the sentiment.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Eriadu," she murmured, looking off into the middle distance wistfully, as if she were watching a film of the event playing out in front of them. Her voice was distant, thoughtful, and a little sad. "I've spent my life since then to build an empire. To provide for the common good of the individuals and families and businesses in the First Order. I've turned a sad little swamp into a bustling metropolis. I've overseen the employment of hundreds of thousands of men and women -- millions. I've personally approved the curriculum to educate millions of children. I have achieved more than most people will in a lifetime, and I have no intention of stopping now."

She paused and leaned forward to run her fingers along the horse's mane again. "And yet, Eriadu will forever remain a cloud over me, though I had nothing to do with it. I've accepted responsibility for it by accepting the Supreme Leader's offer to lead his government. Forever, no matter what I do, it will be Eriadu that my name is most closely connected to. It will be Eriadu that overshadows the accomplishments of the rest of my career."

The horse walked placidly along; she didn't look back at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "Worst of all, it will be Eriadu that causes the next war. The lives lost at Eriadu will pale in comparison to the innocent people slaughtered in the next war, but they will trumpet the name Eriadu all the same, use the deaths of thousands to justify the deaths of millions." They started a slight incline, heading through the forest. "Perhaps the destruction of everything I've worked to build -- that we've all worked so hard for, together -- because of Eriadu."

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Careful and attentive listening was a specialty of Roderik, his honed and disciplined attention to detail making it almost like an internal game to the man. A game he won by hearing - and more-so comprehending - all that was being said to him. Roderik was by no means a day-dreamer.

His comfort level on horseback was growing steadily as they went further along, to the point where he considered the opportunity to take in the lovely forest view, as opposed to focus on not being taken by surprise by a wild bucking horse that would most likely never come. Wooded lands were a favorite of Roderik's, though perhaps tied with the slopes of Dosuun's majestic mountains. The man considered himself a bit of an adventurous sort, even outside of the cockpit - and nothing spoke to adventure like the natural environment.

"I don't know if I quite believe that." He started in response,

"The galaxy has a short attention span, and an even shorter memory. What you have achieved, and what you have yet to achieve will be your legacy. If you ask me, anyways."

His attention darted from the scenery, to [member="Natasi Fortan"] as she rode in lead.

"-and there are too many good men and women standing between the destruction of everything, and our First Order. If there is a war it will be our perseverance and our strength of will and might that win the day. Of that I have no doubt, your excellency."

The tone spoke of the genuine nature of the pep rally speech. He had supreme confidence in the pilots he served with, even if he had little confidence in his part of the over-all chain of command. In defense of the First Order - the General of the Starfighters himself had a boss - multiple bosses, even. His reach was only as far as the Starfighter Corps. His incompetence could not doom the First Order in its entirety. Only everyone Roderik personally knew and cared for.

His confidence in the combined Armies and Navies of the First Order was of the highest caliber, as he had seen them work miracles on countless battlefields both in space and among the many varied worlds that made up the Order itself.

"and without resorting to barbarism to achieve it." He added hastily, his mind returning to the thought of Eriadu, among the many thoughts of battlefields that lay in the past.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Don't call me that. Please," Natasi said quietly. She tugged the reigns on her horse, and they slowed to a halt. "Just -- if it's the two or us or it's just Pierce or Sioux, Natasi will do. It's not necessary to stand on ceremony. Besides, we'll continue to work closely in the future and think of all the time you'll save. You'll add years to your effective lifespan." She looked around the wooded area for a few more moments before urging her horse on. "Do you know what my office calls you and your flight?" She glanced over her shoulder at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"], a faint smile on her lips. "They call you Angel -- and your team is called Halo Flight -- like a guardian angel I suppose." She shrugged.

"You must be wondering why I've blathered on about all this," she said, slowing her horse's gait until they were riding side by side on the same path. "I'm sure you'll be able to draw your own conclusions once I cut to the chase." She unbuttoned the button fastening her riding blazer in place and reached into an inner pocket, from which she drew a small black, felt oyster box, which she handed across the gulf to Roderik. "Open it," she instructed.

As he exposed the treasure inside, Natasi inclined her head and studied him coolly. "Over the last several months you have proven yourself to be a conscientious servant of the First Order, a champion for my own personal safety and interests, and a model officer to everyone in the First Order Starfighter Corps -- not just the men under your personal command, but everyone." She paused and smirked, considering General Breyer. "Well, perhaps not everyone. But alas. Will you accept?"

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik offered a little nod of his head accompanied by an expression that read both embarrassment and recognition and acknowledgement. Theirs was a friendship borne of disciplined professionalism and commitment to duty, and though the Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"] might be his superior in class distinction and achievement, they were still fledgling friends from these months of close work proximity. At least in private, he did not need to address her so formally and tip-toed.

"Angel, hmm? Angels and halos." He took it in, the notion of guardian angels were not foreign to him - the same things might be considered spirits of the once-mighty, by Force Users. But the idea allowed for a chuckle to escape.

As Natasi slowed and spoke, Roderik's curiosity began to grow. She produced a small black box and handed it to him, instructing him to open it - which he did did with careful intent and readily apparent interest. A gift from the Grand Moff?

Upon viewing the contents of the black box, his eyes went momentarily wide. A gift, but not a gift. A promotion.

He looked up and over at Natasi, listening to her explanation.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you, of course I accept," His eyes flashed with something, sorrow? Concern?

The soon-to-be-Major knew that a promotion of this caliber required him to be - at least temporarily - separated from his squadron, and the Grand Moff's service. Promotion to Major required the selected person to attend a mandatory Command Leadership course, and to serve a short introductory period at the Starfighter Corps High Command building in Avalonia. Unless the Grand Moff had designs on waiving these requirements - which Roderik would undoubtedly detest, as regulations were as law to the man as Natasi' own command.

"I would like to put Pierce's name forward as acting commander of the 100th while I am attending to this promotion business." It wasn't an outrageous request, as Executive Officer it fell to Pierce to act as the commander whenever Roderik was otherwise predisposed regardless. But Roderik needed to verbalize his appreciation of the other Fortan, all the same. [member="Pierce Fortan III"] deserved as much credit as he could get, for assisting in the creation and successful initialization of the fighter squadron Natasi relied on.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Major," Natasi said, enjoying the slight thrill it gave her to see someone receiving a promotion. She was not likely to receive another, perhaps ever again. If anything ever happened to the Supreme Commander, it would be Ludolf Vaas, no doubt, who was selected to fill his shoes. And since it was treason to contemplate the death of the Supreme Leader, there was no point. Grand Moff was the pinnacle of Natasi's career from her seat, so she had to take the pleasure where it came.

"I cannot stress to you the importance of my not being seen to influence Pierce's career. However, if you would like to put him up for it, then it is your decision to make, and I am pleased to endorse it. We can work out a schedule -- whether you'd like to leave the tour now and head back to Dosuun, or whatever your convenience is. You've earned some flexibility for all your hard work."

She urged the horse into a walk. "How's he doing, anyway? I ask as a cousin and a friend rather than as Grand Moff. I worry about dear Pierce. He smokes too much. He certainly drinks more than is good for him. If you feel comfortable speaking in confidence -- obviously, if you would rather not.." Her voice trailed off.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

It was ironic, or perhaps not depending on ones' definition of irony, that Roderik listened to [member="Natasi Fortan"] express her insistence that it not appear as though she exerted any undue influence on Pierce's career. The same insistence Pierce himself had exhibited. He appreciated that immensely in the both of them.

Roderik urged Sullinosh into a walk at the same time, continuing along the path at a nice, leisurely pace.

"I couldn't imagine leaving it in better hands."

He paused a little, using the cover of looking out about the landscape - the world they strode upon quiet lovely. In truth he searched for the right words to respond to Natasi's inquiry about Pierce.

"Pierce is unarguably my closest friend. I was at the first squadron he was assigned to after his commission, you see." He awkwardly re-positioned himself in the saddle, continuing,

"With that said, I agree, his smoking and drinking can be an... Issue, though it does not not hamper the performance of his duties." He said with a fairly high certainty of fact.

"In truth, I think he's confused about his future. I see an expert pilot, and a competent commander of men and women. More than he sees in himself, for certain. I see the instinct to keep his people alive - and most importantly - happy. But I fear he may see the civilian life as some sort of prize at the end of the tunnel. The Corps would certainly stand to lose if he left, and I don't know if he would be as content as he thinks he would be, without the structure this life provides him. As well as the excitement." He added the last part with a little bit of hesitancy. He knew that sometimes those who were not such physical thrill-seekers would question the motives of those that were.

All starfighter pilots were in some part adrenaline seekers, or searchers for excitement that only true life-or-death stakes could quench the thirst of. That was just the nature of fighter combat, and anyone who excelled at it would one day have to own up to that part of their nature.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi listened carefully, nodding along with the assessments offered by [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "Pierce is -- like most Galidraanis, including myself -- something of a contradiction in terms. The Barony that he holds has been in the family since before the plague years. It was given to his great-great-great-great grandfather or something -- I'd have to consult the books -- and they have cared for it as stewards for over four hundred years. He has an immense responsibility to keep that line going -- to have sons to secure his lineage and to secure Chiltenham."

The Grand Moff urged her horse into a trot, and she called over to the newly-minted Major: "But here he is, across the galaxy from Galidraan, serving the First Order in an extremely dangerous job. He could be killed at any moment, in any engagement. There must be a lot of pressure there," she commiserated. "Which isn't to say he should drink himself blind every day, but I'm willing to overlook what he does on his personal time, provided he continues to perform. But -- again -- it's your squadron."

She looked forward with determination as they came upon the second hedge. She didn't stop or slow this time, only sped up and took the hedge in a leap. "Anyway. Galidraani eccentricities aside, I'm pleased to hear your assessment. I hope things continue to go well for your team."

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik internalized what [member="Natasi Fortan"] spoke. Her words eminently impacted him - her wisdom was why she was getting paid the big credits as the First Order's Grand Moff.

He had in his unconscious desire to continue further discounting his own hereditary Barony, discounted the role such pressures put on [member="Pierce Fortan III"] and his reluctance to pursue the Starfighter Corps as whole-heartedly as Roderik.

Before he could respond however, the Grand Moff was once again at a gallop and into a leap over the next hedge. Roderik showed little hesitation this time as well, and immediately followed suit. Sullinosh lead the way, leaping on the animal's own accord over the hedge in a fashion that was far less graceful than his riding partner's, though adequate enough.

The now-Major came up alongside the Grand Moff again.

"I would prefer to remain with the squadron for the duration of your tour. Truth be told, I am finding my team to be tremendous. I'm not sure how many of them you've met through proximity yet, I think my attention to protocol has rubbed off on all of them. Except Pierce," He said with a relaxed chuckle before adding, "but they are quite spectacular to see in space." He could not help but gush about the men and women under his command. They had come through time and again already, pulling countless long shifts, extra duty cycles, engaging in some of the fiercest combat during anti-pirating operations - and more. They had earned a reputation among the First Order as the premier starfighter squadron. To their enemies, they gained a reputation as ruthless arbiters of the First Order's space lanes.

"I will miss flying with them while I'm attending this promotion business." Little did he know that the squadron he knew as the 100th would itself be under-going massive change, soon enough. The squadron he flew with today was nearing the end of its journey. Other careers besides Roderik's were going places and many of his flight leaders would soon have their own squadrons, although all would fly under a familiar banner. The 100th Fighter Wing of tomorrow would keep intact the core spirit of the squadron of today, and in a sense, their flying days together were not over, but still freshly beginning.

"I've come to value our discussions over the months, as well - and your staff." By staff he primarily meant [member="Sioux Chambers"], though the others were equally competent in their own ways.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"I've been pleased to read your reports about the 100th," said Natasi as they continued to trot along the trail. They were looping around towards the fort again, though they remained under the trees. "I can't pretend to know much about starfighter combat strategies, but you all look good out my viewport window, so I've had nothing to complain about. And General Brenner -- well, the least said the better." She rolled her eyes and continued trotting along with Telegraph, gripping the saddle with her legs as she leaned forward to pat the horse's neck.

"It's not forever," replied Natasi casually. "You'll be back in no-- " She stopped and chuckled into a gloved fist. " -- actually, I approved the curriculum in those courses. It will seem like forever but it's really only six short -- short -- weeks. Just keep that in mind." They continued along the trail, and she looked over at him again. "The 100th is going places, Major, and you're going with them."

The Grand Moff nodded her agreement to [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "Ms. Chambers has been pleased with the efficiency with which your action reports are filed, at least," said Natasi pleasantly. "Keep the paperwork tidy and you'll have a friend for life."

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

With the innate jockeying control of a hardened combat pilot used to chaotic throttle movements to match speeds in maneuvers and to keep relative distance placement with constantly adjusting trajectories in mind, Roderik kept Sullinosh at the correct speeds to maintain proper spacing with [member="Natasi Fortan"] during their riding expedition. It could perhaps give off the illusion of a talented rider, though he owed it more to his animal's excellent reading of its rider than any skill of his own.

"That is a comforting thought," he said regarding his swift return and more importantly, her approval of the curriculum. If she approved it, it would be with careful appreciation to time allotment. Six weeks of efficient learning.

He could not help but grow a smile again at the mention of paperwork and Ms. Chambers. Roderik was notoriously prompt with the submissions of all his flight reports, action reports, and command reports. For all his talent in flying, his secret skill was in report writing.

"How often do you ride?" He asked almost on a whim, changing the subject as his mind drifted to the enjoyment he'd been experiencing so far on this mounted expedition -- partially unforeseen promotion not withstanding. He wondered if she rode actively on Dosuun, if there was such a scene at all on their adopted home-world.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi urged the steed on, fingers guiding the movement of the horse gently using the reins. "Oh, three or four times a week, schedule permitting," Natasi responded to his query about her riding habits. "When I was helping to design the Victory & Memorial Park, near Number 10, we wanted to create an environment where people could come and enjoy the outdoors in a safe environment. While we were sure to create places of quiet reflection, we also wanted to have some reminder of what we're all fighting for -- some more literally than others," she added defensively. "So there are playgrounds and trails and little lakes to play with remote-control boats on."

She smiled fondly into the middle distance, remembering this, and cleared her throat. "Anyway. I digress. There are stables there, too, and my horse is boarded there. I go whenever I can. It's rather a production, as you can probably tell." Natasi nodded off to one of the Four Horsemen who was riding nearby. "But rank has its privilege, I suppose, and it is -- I think -- rather a lot to ask for everything I've given to this nation." Her eyes gazed listlessly off to the side, and she imagined herself far away -- sleeping easy, doing crosswords, and never again having to see the human embodiment of the knife that wounded her chest every time they crossed paths. It would be so easy to go away -- to leave Eriadu and the First Order for the next person, but her honor was at stake here.

Loyalty has its price.

"Do you have an opportunity for sport, Major?"

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik considered the question for a moment before offering his response. He liked the mental image she projected, trails for hiking and riding, lakes and playgrounds for children. Perhaps as an unconscious relief from the constant confined bulkheads of star destroyers and cockpits of TIE Fighters, Roderik quite enjoyed anything recreational that took place outdoors.

"Not as much as I would like. It seems capability and opportunity are elusive companions. But some," He paused for a moment, peering down at the horse he was riding, Sullinosh.

"I might have to incorporate more riding, when I can." He admitted happily, as he set his sights back on his riding partner for this occasion, [member="Natasi Fortan"]. "I've been to the skiing lodges some. That seems to be the traditional squadron outing." He referred to the mountainous region nearest to Avalonia, with recreational slopes and free annual passes for all First Order military personnel almost entirely year-round.