Like Going to War | Talbot & Natasi

[Natasi Fortan]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHUuxQVauMc

It was astonishing how quickly a lifetime of privilege could be visually erased.

The Duke of Foxfield had very nearly ceased to exist.

Gone were the finely tailored suits and fashionable slim-fit dress shirts, pointed collars and extravagantly expensive neckties -- all an infuriating similar shade of navy blue, yet each costing nearly enough to feed a small family for half a year. Instead he wore the black uniform of the First Order stormtrooper corps officer. Instead of luxurious monogrammed luggage, carried by porters or his valet, he carried his own bag -- a single black duffle bag slung over his shoulder. And rather than boarding a luxury shuttle, he was headed for an officer's transport which -- while certainly more well-appointed than the average stormtrooper transport -- was not quite what he was used to.

Still, thought Talbot as he fished in his coat pocket for his cigarette case and lighter, things weren't all bad. His best friend [member="Alec Sienar"] would be at his side -- with Talbot having exercised the officer's privilege of hiring him as a defensive combat contractor. His background check had been cleared and they would deploy together. It would be like old times, in a way, but in another way not at all. It would be true danger -- more than the danger of a big game hunt or a regional defense force. Still, he hadn't felt this satisfied since he had left the Galidraan Territorial Guards. It was difficult to explain, even to himself, why it meant so much to him. It had been the cause of a simmering tension in the Vitalis household since their trip to Galidraan for the new year; a cold war had opened between Talbot and his wife over his insistence that he be able to join up and do his bit. It wasn't that he couldn't see her point of view, it was just that he disagreed that he should let it stop him.

Natasi was used to getting her own way, but in this instance Talbot had had to put his foot down.

He lit the cigarette and took a drag before going to the railing of the walkway on which he stood. The elevated promenade overlooked the vast assemblage of stormtroopers -- probably a full legion, by his count -- mustered in their units, standing row on row as they waited to board the next troop transport. It was chilling, knowing that beneath the uniformity of the gleaming white armor, there was a man or woman inside -- probably feeling what Talbot felt: apprehension, excitement, a little fear. He took another drag from his cigarette and then leaned forward, resting his elbow on the railing.

The First Order war machine -- it was a thing of terrible beauty.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

More than anything else, the whine of the repulsorlift on the First Order's massive troop transports made Natasi's chest ache with apprehension. It was the sound of sons marching away from mothers, fathers from children.

Husbands from wives.

Natasi walked alone -- apart from the ever-present Horsemen that flanked her a few paces back -- her grey uniform hidden beneath a calf-length black coat. The only bit of femininity to her outfit was her handbag, tucked into the crook of her arm, swaying gently as she walked. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, giving her an austere, almost severe look. Every so often, someone would hustle by, recognize her and salute. It was not a sensation that one got used to easily, she mused to herself as she continued along the path. She continued until she saw him, half-bent over a railing, surveying the troops below.

She approached him, pinpointing the exact moment when he picked up on the scent of her perfume. He didn't turn at first, until she placed her hands on the railing a meter down from him. She turned her head, looking down the railing at him and raised her eyebrows. "Hello."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

It was the gentle, hesitant scent of Galidraani wildflowers that announced Natasi's arrival. His pupils dilated a little more and his jaw tightened. He didn't want an altercation here -- no fits, no fights, no feuds -- so he didn't react at first. When she said Hello, he finally straightened and turned towards her. There was, as usual these days, a tension between them -- not the playful flirtatious tension of their early courtship or the challenging but respectful tension inherent in the married life of any marriage of equals. This was different; there was a chill between them. He resented her for not respecting that he needed to enlist and serve his adoptive country, to prove his loyalty and dedication. She resented that he was risking his life when they had an infant son and when she needed his support during the difficult days of the war.

They had moved beyond not understanding each other's needs; they just disagreed.

He regarded her coolly for a moment, trying to decide whether he should greet her as a leader -- with a salute -- or as his wife. He chose to simply respond with a nod and a brief, "Hello," in return.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi straightened as Talbot did, turning to face him as he did the same. It felt oddly like squaring up before a fight. His chilly response didn't help. "I thought you might come back before you mustered," Natasi said quietly, by way of explanation for her presence. He had spent an hour this morning with baby George, getting the last moments before deployment that he would spend with his son. Unfortunately, an early intelligence briefing had called Natasi away, so they had exchanged a brief goodbye and a perfunctory kiss on her way out.

"I thought the least said, the better," Talbot responded, his green eyes darting away from Natasi for a moment. "To get away without another row."

"I'm not here to row," said Natasi. They stood in silence for a moment before she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist. His arms settled around her shoulders, and for a moment they weren't Grand Moff and spouse, but a soldier and his sweetheart, taking a few last moments before he marched off to war. His chin rested atop her head. After a moment, Natasi said: "So this is what it's like where you are."

"Beg pardon?"

Natasi sighed. "Normally it's me getting on a shuttle. Heading off to a warzone. Until now I never stopped to consider that you felt like I felt now -- nervous, apprehensive. Terrified that you might never see me again. I'm so sorry, Talbot. I never thought..." Her voice fell away, and she dabbed her eyes with her sleeves as she stepped back from him.