skin, bone, and arrogance
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It began, as these things so often did, as a hesitation of Natasi Fortan's eye over a statistic in a report -- in this case, a footnote explaining a figure in a table at the top of the page. She stopped reading, jotted notes in the margin, and highlighted, making a note to bring it up with the acting Minister of Science & Health at their next call. Although Natasi was, technically, a Moff the same as any of them, her long-standing service in the government had made her, in custom and practice if not in name, the senior Moff and leader of the governing establishment, and thus she could summon the Minister for Science & Health at her leisure to discuss her questions. At their next meeting, they discussed what Natasi had hesitated over, and the Minister had agreed to research the problem.
Two weeks later, they gathered in Natasi's office again. Moff Fortan stood at the window, overlooking the balcony and the metropolis that she had built, teacup in one hand, saucer in the other as she listened to the Minister's conclusions. When he finished, the Moff took a sip of her tea and set it down into the saucer. "So -- I was right. We will have a problem if we don't take steps now." She did not turn away from the window.
"Yes, Moff Fortan," came the reply from the Minister for Science & Health. Then, somewhat defensively: "I'm sure we would have come to the same conclusion, given the time..."
"Let us not quibble over the details now, Minister," Natasi said brusquely. "Let us simply determine how we will best address the situation." She went to her desk, set her teacup down, and engaged the privacy locks, which frosted the windows and engaged the anti-surveillance and sound-proofing qualities of the office. Next, she activated the screen separating her desk area from the conference area, upon which she could write with a stylus. She pushed back the sleeves and went to work. As the meeting progressed, the assembled individuals brainstormed and debated, while Natasi wrote, so that by the time the meeting broke up, the screen had been graffiti'd with words, some of which showed up on the title page of the classified report that was circulated to High Command ([member="Ludolf Vaas"], [member="Aram Kalast"], the Supreme Leader, and Moff Fortan herself):
Perhaps the Balance had a sense of humor after all.

The Imperial Palace - Avalonia, Dosuun Capital City of the First Order
Moff Fortan's Office - 0913 Dosuun Standard Time
It began, as these things so often did, as a hesitation of Natasi Fortan's eye over a statistic in a report -- in this case, a footnote explaining a figure in a table at the top of the page. She stopped reading, jotted notes in the margin, and highlighted, making a note to bring it up with the acting Minister of Science & Health at their next call. Although Natasi was, technically, a Moff the same as any of them, her long-standing service in the government had made her, in custom and practice if not in name, the senior Moff and leader of the governing establishment, and thus she could summon the Minister for Science & Health at her leisure to discuss her questions. At their next meeting, they discussed what Natasi had hesitated over, and the Minister had agreed to research the problem.
Two weeks later, they gathered in Natasi's office again. Moff Fortan stood at the window, overlooking the balcony and the metropolis that she had built, teacup in one hand, saucer in the other as she listened to the Minister's conclusions. When he finished, the Moff took a sip of her tea and set it down into the saucer. "So -- I was right. We will have a problem if we don't take steps now." She did not turn away from the window.
"Yes, Moff Fortan," came the reply from the Minister for Science & Health. Then, somewhat defensively: "I'm sure we would have come to the same conclusion, given the time..."
"Let us not quibble over the details now, Minister," Natasi said brusquely. "Let us simply determine how we will best address the situation." She went to her desk, set her teacup down, and engaged the privacy locks, which frosted the windows and engaged the anti-surveillance and sound-proofing qualities of the office. Next, she activated the screen separating her desk area from the conference area, upon which she could write with a stylus. She pushed back the sleeves and went to work. As the meeting progressed, the assembled individuals brainstormed and debated, while Natasi wrote, so that by the time the meeting broke up, the screen had been graffiti'd with words, some of which showed up on the title page of the classified report that was circulated to High Command ([member="Ludolf Vaas"], [member="Aram Kalast"], the Supreme Leader, and Moff Fortan herself):
When the report came, Natasi couldn't help but to observe the irony.PROJECT GENESISMission Statement: To promote a healthy birthrate in First Order space using whatevertools the government and military establishment have at their disposal
Perhaps the Balance had a sense of humor after all.