Settling Down to Settle Up the Skor | First Order

[Natasi Fortan]

Spoiler

https://youtu.be/PBpnicmEufA

Number 10 Park Boulevard​

Avalonia, Dosuun - 2341 Standard Time​

Grand Moff Natasi Fortan's Quarters​

Sometime after the Second Battle of Skor II​

Natasi sat on the edge of the large tub in her private bathroom, reading from a sheaf of flimsiplast pages as she waited for the tub to fill. Every part of her ached to be submerged in the hot water, but experience taught her that it was better to wait for the tub to be filled, the perfumed additive added to the water, and the glass of wine poured before she attempted to disrobe and submerge herself in the water. So she contented herself with reading the minutes of the after-action report on Skor II as she waited. Not that she needed to read about it; she had been there, in the thick of it. It was not a day upon which Natasi Fortan would reflect with undiluted pleasure. The humiliation of having been forced to evacuate Concordia still burned in the pit of her stomach.

The conclusion had been, based on available footage and intelligence, that the action had been undertaken by Mandalorians unknown. The use of liveried armor on a mission that was supposed to be mercenary work made identification difficult, and without a DNA sample with which to compare the mess left in the turbolift shaft, it seemed that making a positive identification was unlikely. The thought of the perpetrator walking away scot-free -- whoever had masterminded the attack and controlled the agent who had done it -- made Natasi's stomach clench painfully. But what to do?

She sighed and glanced over her shoulder; the tub was just reaching the proper capacity. She set the sheaf of flimsis aside and stood, leaning over to turn off the tap. She drizzled a measure of scented additive to the water. A moment later, the Grand Moff untied her dressing gown and let it slide off her shoulders, hooking it with her fingers and carefully folding it over the back of her dressing chair before she climbed up the few steps to the large tub and carefully eased herself in. Even the warmth of the tub did not soothe her unsettled feeling. She toyed with the data, turning it over and over in her mind's eye, searching for some element she had missed.

Languidly reaching up to pull her hair back into a messy bun atop her head, so as to avoid getting it wet, she reclined against the jetted back of the tub, allowing a moment's relaxation. What did the Fetts have against the First Order? Or the Munins? Or the Viszlas, a family who if intelligence was to be believed was on good terms with the Sith-Imperials, putative friends of the First Order? Natasi's eyes screwed up tightly, her eyebrows and forehead furrowing as she struggled for something that was right outside her mental grasp. No... there was something else about those three names, something unrelated to the First Order, something Natasi couldn't quite reach.

Just as the thought occurred to Natasi, another came like a bolt of lightning. She hauled herself out of the bath, pausing only to wrap a bath sheet around her frame as she hurried into her bedroom for the communicator. "Glass," Natasi told the man on the other line. "Get Director Shepard and Minister Calgar over here. Make apologies for the lateness of the hour. Ask them to pull our records on recent Mandalorian history." She combed her fingers through her damp hair anxiously. "Oh -- Glass? Send for Rausgeber, too. Yes, here. Let security know they're coming."

Natasi toweled off haphazardly and dressed quickly -- rather more informally than anyone in attendance had ever seen her in a pair of black slacks and a baggy black sweater -- before putting her hair back in a tail. She gathered her papers and hurried out of her quarters, heading for the library on the ground floor. There they would find Natasi poring over the minutes of the meeting, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, jotting notes.

[member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[The Major]

Number 10 Park Boulevard
Avalonia, Dosuun - 2343 Standard Time
Grand Moff Natasi Fortan's Library
A reasonable time after the aforementioned bath
[member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]

While the rigmarole down the Galactic Southeast at Skor was still in the process of contention the need for examination and intelligence dissemination was critical now more than ever. For those wounded on that transformative day relief came from the moment Supreme Leader arrived with the cavalry. Not long after the Wrath cut its swath upon the space frontier came a brief respite in which the final intruders aboard the Concordia were either killed or forced to flee back to their lines, the once proud vessel towed back to friendly sectors. It had been a harrowing experience for the FIST division aboard, and for the platoons that remained the struggle reached a fever pitch as spirits continuously weighed upon the sanity of those pressed to defend their pride.

Proper after-action reports were still in the process of formulation -merciful grace times extended due to the high incidence of wounding of the remaining defensive team.

Sybil replayed the decisions she took: assuming command and running back and forth across the broken decks to rally and assist what remained, hunting both the real and unreal, contending with hours of a purgatory as asinine as it was horrific. She couldn’t confidently say she was successful in her endeavor, nor could she downright condemn her failures.

Let the Order determine what was best. ​

Still recovering from the wounds sustained from the battle, the Director also entered the library dressed in a state more casual than she was accustomed to being comfortable with. A brace and cast had been applied to her left arm, and a number of bandages had to be wrapped around her neck and torso. To cover this she wore a loose shirt with an Imperial jacket draped over her shoulders, along with matching pants and boots.

Armed with a leather case filled with the requested files and a datapad or two if the need arose, Sybil approached the Grand Moff before offering a slight bow, this more a result of the various lacerations making it hard for her to bend rather than any form of disrespect.

“Good evening, Mi’lady. Reporting as ordered. I trust the night finds you well.” It would have been nice to expound with some graceful poetry or bombast, but the Director didn’t have the strength to produce anything so dramatic, and instead spoke with a croaking, guilt laden voice.

 

[Robogeber]

Location: Dosuun, Avalonia: 10 Park Boulevard
Time: 2344, Local
Objective: Investigate the Invitation
Allies: [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Dante Calgar"]

Had the invitation been received from any other government official, or military man, Grand Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber would have declined, quite naturally. The rearing of young Maxamillian, and his sister, Tasdo'zel'urnis meant the automaton now took precedence in the web of protocols and doctrines his name sake had programmed. And, on this evening, such protocol took the shape of ensuring the twins were kept adequately fed while their mother recuperated upon some much needed sleep. The automaton had made camp in the nursery, having slid a desk and terminal in order to ensure that not a moment was wasted, when he received the call. It came via proxy, his personal FOSB security chief, Special Agent Ventor alerted him to the request from one Mister Theodore Glass. While ordinarily, the Imperator would have ignored such a request, the name carried some weight to it. Glass, in turn was a proxy for Fortan. And a request from Natasi Josephine Fortan was one never to be ignored.

Not one to keep the mother of the nation waiting, the droid ran some calculations, and packed some items before alerting his darling Tamm'orr'nuruodo to the fact she would be performing night watch, and then promptly departing via private speeder. The trip from the totalist barracks of Central Command Headquarters to the more, elegant accommodations of the Grand Moff allowed Rausgeber to reflect. What was the purpose of such an abrupt meeting? Was there more political strife ahead? It could not have been an emergency summons or call to battle, else Carlyle would have been recalled to the Pellaeon, still being repaired in Victoria. No, it had to be something requiring his attendance. Something of critical importance. Perhaps some new plans for the navies expansion being drafted? The possibilities for such a curious event, were near endless.

The short trip was cemented in paranoia by the FOSB Skull Squadron, protection unit, who spared no risk in keeping the Grand Admiral's current status as a droid, masquerading as a man, a key secret. Even now, in the dead of night, the speeder entered the secretive, underground entrance to the Fortan residence, where it halted right before the entrance. Rausgeber removed himself from the vehicle. "Don't keep the engine running," The droid mused to his bodyguards. The artificial tone of his voice carried and echoed throughout the duracrete bunker. "Wait here for my return."

With that, the droid made his way through the residence, carrying a briefcase with him. First Imperial Shock Troopers, Fortan's personal legion sat on guard, even in the dead of night, and saluted the officer as he glided by them. With some direction from Secretary Glass, the automaton found his way to the library, where he entered, before levelling a stiff salute to the figures whom he immediately recognised as the FOSB Director, and the Grand Moff. "Grand Moff Fortan." He began, quite curtly, "Director Shepard." he added, in an even tone, before lowering his arm, "How may I endeavour to assist?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Director Shepard," Natasi said breathlessly. She set her coffee down and stood, moving around the table. For a moment it may have looked as if the Grand Moff was going to embrace the diminutive ginger; instead, she snagged the folder out of her hand and walked to the head of the table and spread the folder open. "Thank you for coming at such short notice. I've just been trying to think -- trying to remember, really -- something. Something in the after-action briefing this afternoon jarred something for me, and I just... "

The Grand Moff fell silent, humming absently as she rifled through the papers that [member="The Major"] had brought. Her fingers moved quickly, but she didn't know what she was looking for, exactly, just now. "Oh, uh, Sybil -- I'm so pleased to see you looking so well after your ordeal aboard Concordia. It was a very brave thing you did. Despite disobeying a direct order from me... well, we'll let that slide for now, shall we? Much bigger fish to fry and all that." She waved a hand vaguely over her shoulder. "Do help yourself to coffee and pastries if you like, the cups are... are over..."

She succumbed to distracted silence once more until [member="Robogeber"] arrived, in all his creepy glory. "Grand Admiral," Natasi said. "Thank you for coming. I appreciate so much your efforts to ensure Concordia was returned to friendly space in one piece." She flinched and offered an apologetic half-smile. "More or less. Do -- ah -- come in." Wouldn't do to offer him refreshments, after all. "Do you need a chair, Grand Admiral? Or a power outlet?"

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Location: 10 Park Boulevard, Avalonia, Dosuun.
Time: 2344 Avalonian Time.

The glittering expanse of Avalonia was a bejewelled sea, with tangles of bright and shining luminosity. The landscape was dark and static, as the shuttle passed by at speed it was difficult for Madelyn to imagine any one of the million different things that must be happening in the city below: A mother tucking her child into bed, a wretch laying back as the death rattle escaped his blistered lips, and a stormtrooper, his boots scraping against the pavement and the streetlight bouncing off his armour. All of that is lost, reduced to a blurred stream of light and dark like a piece of modern art.

Madelyn's eyelids grew heavy looking out, so she let her head bow, her gaze falling upon her lap, in which rested her old-fashioned pen-and-pad, the ink-laden pen tucked neatly in the binder's ring. The scribblings in the book were headache inducing after the slew of long nights she'd experienced, and the stimulant patch she'd applied twenty minutes prior was making the world quiver and pulse in a most uncomfortable fashion. Instead of staring at the words of the page, she levelled her gaze on her fingers, each tipped with a precise, short, manicured nail. Her hand was still marred by the fading remnants of her capture on Lothal, and her wrist was wrapped around its circumference by a wide and blotched bruise, where the handcuffs had wrenched her in her bid to escape.

She rose to her feet as they descended, holding a leather strap hanging off the ceiling as the cabin was jostled slightly, the landing pads once again taking the weight of the vessel. The boarding ramp opened, and she strode into number ten, giving a slight nod to the troopers saluting as she trudged inside.

Without fanfare, the Governor was shown to the Grand Moffs quarters. When the door was opened, and she stepped inside, she saw the figures of the Grand Moff herself, Director Shephard, and Grand Admiral Rausgeber, whom she knew only from word of mouth and propaganda holovids.

"My apologies for my intrusion, Your Excellency, I was sent for by your assistant, Glass."

Her eyes flitted to the Director and Grand Admiral, both of them figures of immense power in the Order; One a stranger, the other a former enemy, and a woman she still regarded with a deep unease.

"Grand Admiral, Director, it is a pleasure."

 

[Progflaw99]

Briefing after briefing. Dante had seen the mass data caches that had been recorded and stored during the battle over Skor II - technically the second battle. The Minister of Security hadn't been present for either but that wasn't unusual. Though he was fully capable of performing in the field it wasn't his duty to do so anymore, no. He had a more singular responsibility now. With the presence of the FIV Wrath, the sheer amount of data collected meant that he'd probably still be seeing it processed in several months time - a headache for anyone. The briefings given to the entirety of the Moff Council were vague, the subtext even moreso but Dante had picked up on a few themes, a few patterns. He'd spent hours upon hours scouring the raw data for himself. Ships logs, weapons logs, damage reports. In fact it was those hours of intense studying which found him pouring himself a three finger glass of whisky at nearly midnight.

As he replaced the crystal decanter on the small cabinet behind his desk Dante rubbed his temples. This was going to be a long process. How the Outer Rim Coalition had managed to field a fleet so quickly had baffled him, no doubt the Admiralty as well. They had expected some resistance, that was only natural, but what had been presented was much more than mere resistance. It had been coordinated - and equally peculiar. The Minister of Security wasn't a religious man by any measure but what was witnessed in battle over Skor II couldn't have been explained in any other way. Dante knew of the Supreme Leader, and of his control over what Jedi referred to as 'The Dark Side' but this? Over two dozen Purrgil had appeared in the sector mere moments after the First Order's arrival in system. Pesky enough as they were in small groups, this one had been massive and not only these but a Zumma-verminoth later on. These strange occurrences spoke to only one thing - The galaxy was yet again hemorrhaging. Not unlike one's hair standing on end moments before something awful was about to happen, Dante saw the signs expressed in unusual patterns through the data he processed. *And there's so much more to comb through. So much more.*

With that, Dante's fingers grasped the lip of the glass before raising it. Intending on enjoying the first sip after a long day he was less than pleased when before he could partake, a shrill chirp sounded from the communicator on his desk. A momentary longing gaze cast at the amber liquid, Dante set it back down on the small liquor cabinet before retrieving the communicator. A glance at the memo caused the corners of his lips to twitch, a scowl forming. *Now... what could this be?* With a sigh, he retrieved the glass and carefully returned the contents to the bottle from whence they came before departing his office. When the Grand Moff called, he answered.

​

Strictly speaking, Dante had been "Off Duty". He knew that wasn't really a luxury he had due to his current appointment, and so he'd been working - albeit in more casual attire than his usual. Under any other circumstances, he just might have changed. Time was of the essence however, the memo dictating that the matter was urgent as well as a footnote about extracting the most recent reports regarding the Mandalorian Empire. That alone had taken him far longer than he'd hoped, transferring the data to his personal datapad before hastily heading to Number 10. In a last bid attempt to render himself at least somewhat presentable he ran a hand along his shirt, straitening a few of the loose wrinkles. With a quick once over of himself in the reflective surface of the ornate door knocker, he reached for the handle and let himself in. Greeted of course by the Grand Moff's staff, he was ushered in. As he approached he saw the familiar silhouette of his associate "The Major", the others took him a moment longer to identify but each was known to him. It appeared he was the last to arrive - or among them. Dante wasn't sure who had been summoned but apparently it was of significant importance to have both the FOSB and the Grand Admiral present.

"Your excellency." He voiced, a half bow as he continued. "Ladies, gentleman."​

​

What they were here for exactly he hadn't quite pieced together. It obviously involved the Mandalorian Empire but it had to be something more. Only weeks ago they'd met with a delegation, was this in regards to that? Or something different. There was no way to tell except by asking, and ask he did.

"If you don't mind Lady Fortan, why the mysterious summons?"​

​

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Robogeber"]​

 

[The Major]

Grand Moff Natasi Fortan's Library
Crowded by those to respect and those to dispose
[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"]

Ah, the wonder that was being Lady Fortan’s acquaintance and under her employ. One never knew exactly where they stood before the Iron Mother’s eyes. Whether one had made any true impression appeared to hang on a thread, and that made chasing after the Grand Moff’s favor a futile but essential function. Maybe it was the burden of serving as the head of the state, but the Major found Natasi’s thoughts to run hither and thence -making reading and playing to the feel of the room impossible. Sybil, as a “charming socialite,” detested not being able to read and control the marker; this was only more exacerbated by the troublesome feeling that she was clearly ruminating more at the events and the critical moments aboard the Concordia than anyone else -the thought itself an indicator that the Director was still quite susceptible to haughty bouts of youthful, ego driven solipsism. Before anything could be done to salvage her ideal state, Natasi was already yanking out the case in her arm, moving at speed while offering coffee.

Very well.... If she was so inspired then it had to be important. Sybil compiled, and poured herself a cup and took a sip just as the naval leader rolled on into the room. “Fleet Admiral Rausgeber. A pleasure…” She respectfully lifted her cup in acknowledgment and allowed him to take initiative with her excellency. Seeing him always sparked a hint of nostalgia within her, because her first assignment within the Security Bureau was running a signals intelligence team aboard his command vessel -not to mention the discovery that was made during the investigation into Rausgeber’s…. temporary setback. The secret droid/A.I copy had proven to only get better and better much to Director Shepard’s infinite appreciation. There was, after all, nothing like being in on a state funded secret.

And then the evening was ruined a few minutes later. Perhaps not completely demolished but close to it. It took an extreme amount of restraint for Sybil not to roll her eyes at sight of Madelyn Lowe, but she kept such displeasure internal and turned a bit to pretend she was fiddling with her coffee before dumping the remaining contents into a decorative sink. There was nothing in the Netherworld’s power that could encourage the Major to drink or break bread while in the presence of that blond topped, makeup martyring, tattle-telling swine. Most certainly today wouldn’t see any such shift.

She turned again, deadpanned out: “Governor Lowe,” in acknowledgement and had her morale skyrocket at the sight of Minister Calgar, almost instantly wandering over to his space within the room to stand somewhere nearby.

 

[Wilhelmine Dahma]

The ambitious Chiss was not one to swan around while her husband did all of the Navy business. With the best midwives, minders and droids available to them, there was no reason Morro had to stay home with the twins, envisioning Carlyle from afar, hands on the wheels of the Admiralty without her. Besides, the residence of Grand Moff, Natasi Fortan was just a hop skip and jump away from the Rausgeber’s residence in Avalonia. The Chiss Captain could make up a number of reasons to be there - Carlyle forgot his briefcase, to give Moff Fortan a gift, to ask for recommendations for Skor battle heros. She decided to use two out of three.

Her worries fled when she noticed the casual dress of both Natasi and the Director of the FOSB. She first gave the Rausgeber a sly grin as though to say, “How dare you keep me out of the fun.” Morro was a devoted wife, but he knew her aspirations all too well. She began sleeping with the Admiral when she was just a lower-level officer. Tawdry and underhanded? Of course, but it yielded the results she wanted and here she was, her black pumps peeking over the edge of her own promotion precipice. In addition to the smile, Morro brought something else.

“ A gift for you Moff Fortan,” In her blue palm sat a citrine-hued pin, a color chosen to likely compliment a Chiss’s dark complexion. “You won’t find anything like it outside of House Nuruodo. It's meant to be worn over the heart to keep your ruling family close.”

In her other hand she held out a black briefcase, slightly different than the one the Admiral brought. “Carlyle, you forgot your notes.” Morro’s sleek, white suit and coil of braids was nearly picture perfect except for the small blotch of mashed yams that stood out on her lapel resembling the color of the pin that she’d given Natasi. Not paying notice to the fact that he’d actually brought along his reports, the Chiss said to the room, “Fatherhood has a way of making him amnesiac.”

She had not met Madelyn Lowe or Dante Calgar, and neither could she pick up on any tension between any of them, unaware of the machinations of government for the most part - or sheltered from it - so she nodded her head and said, “I’m Captain Tamm'orr'nuruodo.”

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Robogeber]

The droid admiral shook his head at the offer of a power source. "A chair will suffice." The Grand Admiral informed his host, "My internal settings tell me I'll have to charge in another sixteen hours, so assuming nothing short of another Ssi-Ruuk incursion happens, I'll be ready." He allowed a smile to be cracked, and then began to take in the room, "Director Shepard, it's always good to see you." he mused, with a holographic grin, before allowing a beat to pass. "Now, what-" The intrusion of Governor Lowe surprised the Grand Admiral, who bowed himself slightly at her presence. "The pleasure is all mine, Governor." The droid reciprocated in a tone, which was bizarely warm for a droid to convey. "Now," The droid hoped to address the Grand Moff, and her reason as to the summons. But not before yet another guest arrived, Dante Calgar. The head of internal security. A true man to be feared, even amongst comrades.

Rausgeber, upon his presence withdrew any commentary and allowed the man to speak. Calgar finished what he could not, and for that, Rausgeber stood stoically still. The guests in the library were all of most critical importance, with Rausgeber perhaps least most. Governors, Directors and Moffs. It was quite, a curious gathering if there ever were one. But it would not bother Carlyle. Clearly this was a show of respect, if there ever were one. He was included in a list of senior bureaucrats and officials who were to have direct audience with the Grand Moff. It was quite a feather, in ones cap, no? And then, she arrived. Captain Morro. Her excuse of needing to officiate the allocation of documents ran cold.

Carlyle knew quite well he could produce what he needed. If looks could kill, the momentary glare he shot to the Chiss would have. But, he would not allow this to spoil the mood. "My sincerest apologies," Rausgeber coolly informed his superiors, before clasping the case. "I appreciate you having come all this way." The droid drily mused, before allowing her to introduce herself. He stood back, and although tempted to evict her, out of spite, he decided to let her stay.
[member="Morro"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Luckily, the library at Number 10 was expansive; it could fit half the Congress of Governors and the Moff Council, so it had no problem accommodating the growing group. Natasi greeted Governor Lowe, Minister Calgar, and Captain Tamm'orr'nuruodo in turn. The latter presented Natasi with a gift, a pin in a vivid citrine color. Natasi accepted it graciously, after shaking hands with the captain, and examined the pin for a few moments, making suitably pleased faces and noises. "Thank you so much, it's truly beautiful. Of Chiss origin? How delightful," Natasi said with a smile. "Please, help yourself to refreshments. Everyone?" Natasi raised her voice for this last word as she crossed the room to the broad fireplace. An embroidered silk handle hung next to the mantle, and Natasi gave it a firm tug. Unseen to the others in the room, in the servants' hall below stairs a chime sounded.

"Please help yourselves to refreshments and take a seat. I've asked you here either because you were involved in the assault at Skor II, you were present on the FIV Concordia, or you have certain skills which we may need to get to the bottom of something that has been bothering me for several hours. The Mandalorian attack on the Concordia. I've been racking my brain, and it all seems rather suspect, don't you agree?" She began to pace in front of the fireplace, casting a shadow across the room from the table. She continued; apparently, her question had been rhetorical. "The armors on those attacking the ship were painted with the sigils of Clan Fett, Clan Munin, and Clan Viszla."

"We'll start with this: we have no evidence to suggest that the Outer Rim Coalition -- such as it is," she added with a note of derision, "has the means or inclination to hire mercenaries. Our intelligence services have found no trace of any financial transaction that would support this. Which suggests to me that whoever launched this attack was not a partisan effort on behalf of the Outer Rim Coalition. I suspect someone knew we were coming -- due to the announcement of our curfew, I'm sure -- and took advantage. But the missing piece is... why? What do these three clans have against the First Order? I can't remember anything that would make us adversaries, but -- I open the floor for suggestions."

The door opened and the elderly Mr. Hendersmith entered. "A moment," Natasi said, approaching the door. She handed him Morro's pin and said, "Be sure this goes into the safe. And can you ask Mrs. Bell for some sandwiches and more coffee? I fear it's going to be rather a long night."

Natasi resumed her seat. "Now then. What do you all think? Moff Calgar? Director Shepard? Anyone?"

[member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Robogeber"]​

 

[Robogeber]

Carlyle took a seat to the right of the table, in a most rigid position. He took in the atmosphere, and scanned the room, as he listened to the Grand Moff state the facts as they were. The Mandalorian question had been one which plagued Rausgebers mind, quite ravenously, and it seemed Fortan shared his sentiment. Whether or not this was in order to enact of revenge upon the perpetrators of the Concordia's unceremonious demolition, or a want to find the truth was yet to be made apparent. However, in the presence of his fellow colleagues, and most of all superiors, Rausgeber peaked up, and spoke. His voice, an artificial drawl which echoed across the vast expanse of Number Ten's library.

"If I may," The Grand Admiral began, taking a quick glance across the assembled group, "I speculate that which ever parties who organised this attack, were highly organised, and connected." Rausgeber then allowed himself a pause, and reached down, picking up his original brown, leather case, and then clicking it open. "Perhaps this is common knowledge, and I am merely retreading over ground, but for those who do not know, I believe the key to our culprit lies in the corporate world." The then opened his case, before reaching in, and pulling out two hand held holoprojectors. The Grand Admiral shut the case, and returned it to where it lay, before activating the two. Two images then popped out. One of a bulbous bomber. The second, of a sleek carrier.

"Before us, sit two vessels we were able to positively identify." Rausgeber began, looking around the room, "The Exodus Class Strategic Bomber." He pointed it out, as the ugly bomber slowly rotated "A former Sith Empire vessel, now licensed and produced by Jaeger Solutions, an arms manufacturing concern, with connections to the Confederacy of Independent Systems." The droid continued, before gesturing to the second ship, "This is the Kiffu-Class Carrier, a vessel produced by the MandalArms Corporation, another arms manufacturer." He paused, "Unlike the Exodus, which is able to be purchased by contract, from our intelligence, the Kiffu-Class is not." The droid then slid the projectors into the middle of the table, displaying them prominently, "From what the FOSB," And to this, he gestured dutifully to the Director, "Can ascertain, it is being used by segments of the Mandalorian clans."

Rausgeber's holographic eyes danced around the table, ensuring his comrades were enthralled, "This means, in my view that the enemy, given the shear amount of bombers purchased, and the logistics must be well funded," The droid concluded, "And secondly, must have either prominence or even control of the MandalArms company. Or secondly, and more disturbingly, be be intimately associated with the Keldabe regime and its defence force." He then took another look around the table, "I do realise," he mused to the assembled congregation of spies, politicians and soldiers, "That this does not in fact identify a motive for our culprit, but I do hope it helps narrow down the most important aspect of this."

"The who."

[member="The Major"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | @Morro

 

[Wilhelmine Dahma]

Morro gave Carlyle a defiant glare and in protest helped herself to a liberal glass of wine after Moff Fortan offered refreshments. Under her breath she muttered, “Vah bat vuhn beint.”

And wistfully she missed an earlier time in their relationship when the man was actual flesh and blood. Instead of returning to their residence and having the Admiral chase her around in a play attempt at putting her in her place, devolving into passionate lovemaking, tonight she would go home to the automaton version of Rausgeber. Cold. Metal. Slightly distant and unemotional.

Oh the Chiss had tried, but it was like making love to a toaster a the end of the day.

She stood near the ample spread of food and drink, watching the room, listening to Moff Fortan’s inquiry into Mandalorian meddling. And then Carlyle presented some fairly comprehensive evidence.

In her deep Cheunh accented voice, she said quite plainly, not meaning to insult, but so direct it was likely she would. “Very impressive, Admiral, yet isn’t this investigation the purview of our illustrious Security Bureau?” Red orbs gave a pointed glance to Director Shepard. “What do your sources tell you?”

Morro was not trying to undermine Carlyle. The opposite in fact. As much of a perfectionist that her husband was, she felt that playing detective interfered with his very important business helping to run the Admiralty with Tressegar.

*you handsome human devil

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Madelyn furrowed her brow. If these reports were true, they painted a disturbing and disruptive picture.

"It is a significant accusation to connect the Mandalorians with the attack on the Concordia. Can we be sure that this was not simply the work of pirates using stolen equipment?"

She wouldn't argue that there appeared to be a connection, but too many leaps had been made to reach the conclusion that "the who" was definitively the Mandalorians, and that a cadre of high-profile figures from the clans had been involved. The evidence supporting that notion was hardly damning.

"Why would the Mandalorian Empire seek military action against us, given their recent interest in détente? I know that historically Mandalorian decision making hasn't exactly been driven by logic but this is a stretch, even for them."

She shuffled her notes absentmindedly, not quite comfortable with the attention of the powerful men and women in the room.

"It seems much more likely to me that this is the act of a few well-funded independents, likely unaffiliated with any ranking member of the Mandalorians."

[member="Morro"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | ​

 

[The Major]

Grand Moff Natasi Fortan's Library
Crowded by those to respect and those to dispose
[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Morro"]

Having politely declined the offer the to sit, the Director of the galaxy’s most meddlesome of investigative organizations instead settled on standing behind Minister Calgar. She wasn’t immediately right behind him, but instead kept just ever so closer to the books on the nearest shelf. Clearly, the leatherbound volumes threatened to take her attention, at least outwardly, from the proceedings in the room.

Finding herself on the end of a red eye stare, the elusive Major turned from showing her profile to directly returning the Chiss’ look, determined not to show any hesitation in marginalizing someone on the drop of the pin, just to see how they reacted and where they ran to.

She suspected it would be under her robotic husband’s shirttails.

“Your excellency, before I provide information pertaining to a national security investigation I have ask what exactly justifies Captain Morro’s presence here? Of course, no offense is meant on my behalf - I merely ask because I fail to see her specific connection in relation to this discussion. Of the eight-hundred fiftytwo captains currently serving at our Chiss Captain’s rank one-hundred forty were present at some point or another during the incident at Skor Two. Should we loop them in on a conference call? Should we at least call Captain [member="Kou'ha Escala"] who actually was on board the Concordia where this incident occurred?”

The Major waved her hand, the good one, in a circle before turning to politely glance in Natasi’s direction.

“Oh, and forgive me for needing a clarification. This meeting appears to be more informal than what is usual, and I only want to make sure which security protocols are to be applied in this discussion.”

She innocently tilted her head as though trying to ensure she heard the next directive clearly and awaited further instructions, eager to see what would come from this.

 

[Progflaw99]

Dante's usually aggressive demeanor was sorely absent. Even as the conversation veered violently to the left he seemed unperturbed, instead his eyes searched through the data displayed on his datapad. He'd had little time to compile his own personal report on the subject matter but as he paged through the data a thought began to form at the edge of his mind. Page after page saw them realized, eyes darting up at the near hostile situation beginning to unfold before him. Months ago he might have asked the same question voiced by the Director but time had tempered his posture. As he paused to let the situation resolve itself he cast a wayward glance at the Grand Moff.

It was strange, seeing her so casually situated. For a moment Dante forgot what he had been about to say, biting the inside of his cheek as he struggled to find the words. Diverting his eyes back to the room at large, he cleared his throat.

"I'm sure that Lady Fortan has not erred in her judgement of of us - I might suggest that we stay on topic. To that end.."​

​

Dante rose from his position on the lounge, his eyes darting from one to the next.

"In addition to what the Grand Admiral has put forward, it is important to note another anomaly in the forces utilized against the Concordia specifically." It almost felt wrong saying the vessel's name - she'd been subjected to quite the beating. "These here.." a holoprojection of a vessel appeared as Dante set his datapad on the small table. "..Are of obvious Mandalorian design. Not only this, but energy readouts captured as the vessels made their attack run are consistent with what we've identified as a MandalArms product known as a Ramship. Whether by design or circumstance, these vessels aren't a readily available product."​

​

Dante let the image linger for a moment before picking up again.

"I think it's time we had a chat with MandalArms. We get the Mandalorians to subpoena their sales records, manufacturing records. The evidence is pretty damning - I see no reason why we shouldn't be able to lean on them to get them."​

​

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi continued to page through the data that [member="The Major"] had brought them, her dark eyes scanning the pages but occasionally glancing up as people spoke. "Who runs MandalArms?" she asked [member="Dante Calgar"], taking off her reading glasses and rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she reclined in her seat. "Do they have an axe to grind against the First Order? Because motive -- motive is what is catching me up." She slipped the covers of three dossiers into the projection field, so that the others could see them floating in the holofield above the table. "What motive would these families -- Fett, Viszla, and Munin -- have to attack the First Order?" She let the question hang in the air for a moment.

"None," Natasi finally answered. "Unless, Director Shepard -- Minister Calgar? -- there is something here of which I have not been made aware?" She paused for a moment before continuing. "That's not to say that these families -- or clans -- have nothing in common. In fact, my suspicions are born out in these dossiers. They all three were notable for a single reason; all three stood against the current Mand'alor, this Mantis woman," Natasi said, waving a hand dismissively. "I cannot help but believe that this was an attempt by someone in the Mand'alor's inner circle to get the First Order to carry out revenge on those who opposed Mantis." She pushed away from the table and stood, beginning to pace around the perimeter of the room.

"The evidence provided by Grand Admiral Rausgeber and Minister Calgar support this theory. If these clans are on the outs with Mand'alor, is it realistic that they would have access to ships provided by the loyalist MandalArms? Not really. This was an amateurish and clumsy attempt by someone in the Mandalorian inner circle to throw off the scent," Natasi declared. "And knowing what we know about the Mandalorians, does it not fit that they would consider sophisticated and foolproof the equivalent of a badly forged children's permission slip?"

[member="The Major"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Kou'ha Escala"] | [member="Dante Calgar"]​

 

[Kou'ha Escala]

Captain
Equipment | Uniform, Code Cylinder, Datapad
Location | #10 Park Boulevard, Avalonia, Dosuun
Meeting | [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="The Major"], [member="Dante Calgar"], [member="Madelyn Lowe"], [member="Robogeber"], [member="Morro"]

[SIZE=11pt]It was late when Kou’ha finally reached the doorsteps of the elegant mansion that is #10, Park Boulevard. Though he knew it was nigh inexcusable and touching on discourteous to keep the Grand Moff waiting, he had only received the summons when he had been allowed to leave his final interview for the day. Questions after questions has been leveled at him, with many of them being a subtle variation designed to draw specific details that he may have missed in his many retellings. It was an exercise in frustration, but the young Captain knew that it was a necessity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But the realisation did not stop the edge of annoyance from latching on to him and left him feeling as though he had been playing complicated mind games. His head continued to throb as he followed the familiar figure of Secretary Glass down the grand hallway, their footsteps silent as shoes sank into the plush carpet. This being the first time he has received an official invitation to the grand lady’s residence, his dark eyes trailed over the framed paintings, quietly admiring the sceneries they passed by. By the time they reached the library, the Epicanthix found himself more centered and less troubled by his earlier interview.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]With a brief rap of his knuckles on the door, Kou’ha let himself in, his gaze immediately sweeping through the room and taking note of the personage gathered within. Giving them an apologetic smile at his interruption, he bowed deferentially. “Your Excellency, ladies and gentlemen.” He recognised his colleagues from the navy, as well as Minister Calgar, but there were two other unfamiliar faces in the library. From the brace and cast one of them wore, the Captain could only surmise that she was the elusive Director. “Apologies for the tardiness.”[/SIZE]