[Summit] Curt, Clear & Concise

[Natasi Fortan]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w98ZM1I97j4

Natasi approached the bar, pausing to adjust her dress in the mirror behind the bar as the bartender attended a pair of patrons. It was simple and black, and adorned with nothing save for a shiny black belt that cinched the dress to her midsection, and a black and white balance pendant on a silver chain around her neck. A set of jet earrings hung under her simple twisted updo that sat low on the back of her head, at her neck. As she waited, a lull in the conversation nearby let her hear the strains of some grotesque Bossa Nova playing in the background. Her face contorted and she looked around. In a flash, her assistant Sioux Chambers was there. "I just heard it," Sioux said. "I'm on it."

"Thank you -- I was very clear about this," Natasi said with a note of exasperation in her tone. "I'm going to mingle. I'll find you if I need you. Oh, and Sioux?" The assistant stopped, datapad in hand, and looked at her boss expectantly. Natasi gave her an apologetic half-smile. "Try to enjoy the party." With that, Sioux disappeared into the crowd, seeking the events coordinator. Natasi turned back to the bar, where the bartender was just ambling over to her. "Would you please send a glass of champagne to the gentleman over there? With the green necktie." The bartender agreed; would the lady like anything. "Do you know, I could murder a G&T," she told the bartender. "Thank you."

A drink in hand, Natasi wandered back into the crowd, shaking hands and greeting the guests. A media droid hovered over the proceedings, taking B-roll, and pausing occasionally to swoop in to take a photo or ask a question for local and First Order-wide publications. "How are you?" Natasi asked a businesswoman she didn't know. "We're so glad you could make it." To an elderly man in a black shirt and tie, Natasi said: "Pleased to meet you, very pleased. Thank you for coming." To another businessbeing -- gender undetermined, at least by Natasi, for they were wearing a pair of black slacks and a sparkling button-down shirt, Natasi said: "I'm afraid I don't know where the crabs in the crab puffs came from, I'm sorry, but you're absolutely right, they're delicious."

And then she turned and found herself face to face with one Mr. Darell Irani. "Welcome. We're very pleased you could find the time," she said in the same brittle tone she had used to deal with the other guests. "Have you got everything you need?"

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Darell Irani, the Duke of Derellium.

His name was announced followed by his one formal title, which was followed by the man himself. The suit was cut in shades of onyx black and sparingly intermingled with hues of white and gold and copper, a white vest behind the black, studs of gold and copper.

He wandered and he mingled. It looked natural, but it was the consequence of decades of practice and study. A handshake here, two nods there, some spare half-smiles for those deserving and pleased words scattered all around the motions.

Irani was a veteran of commerce and industry, and he knew it.

So it wasn’t difficult at all to notice the various elements in the cocktail party.

You had the conservatists, the critics and the cynics who had come to have a taste of the Order’s intentions. They were the ones who had lost most on Eriadu and those who stood to lose even more - investors in the military-industrial complex without the clout of Arceneau Trade or Iron Crown to save those same investments from… unforeseen consequences.

Then you had the gamblers. Their holdings were the smallest, but their passions ran deep and they would throw all of what they got to back the proverbial new kid on the block, if it meant an increase on their margins.

The last group, the one that Irani belonged to, was the one of the giants.

They were the smallest of them all in quantifiable numbers, but had control of the largest market shares and capital. He already exchanged kisses with the Arceneau Rep, a lovely blue Twi’lek. Shook hands with the terse Blas-Tech fellow and send a nod to the lady of Silk Holdings.

Now with drink in hand and thin cigar in the other, Irani wandered some more until he came face to face with something of a surprise.

"Welcome. We're very pleased you could find the time," she said in the same brittle tone she had used to deal with the other guests. "Have you got everything you need?"

Irani sipped from his drink while she ran through her carefully exercised lines and smiled one of his more pleasant smiles.

"Miss Fortan," the Duke replied patiently, while studying her expression. Brittle, tired, exhausted and still some core of iron in the midst of it all.

How curious.

"Gerion Ardik spoke highly of you. I quote: “A soul of law and order amidst an ocean of chaos.” High praise indeed coming from a man like him."

His head turned slightly, angled in curiosity and interest.

"Many faces here today. Did you expect the Order to attract so much interest from the business-minded folk?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

[SIZE=18.6667px]Natasi was surprised to hear Gerion Ardik’s name mentioned, but after a moment's reflection she decided that she should have expected it. Ardik was a well-known and well-connected businessman even in First Order space. His aversion to the First Order’s methods, and Natasi's unflinching devotion to the faction was central to the conflict between the two friends, but it didn't cause Natasi any ill will, only some slight frustration. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=18.6667px]“Did he indeed?” Natasi murmured thoughtfully. “I'm flattered he would say so,and to someone like you.” She raised her glass in a silent toast. Yes, she recognized the tall and reasonably well dressed man as Darell Irani from the research her staff had done on potential attendees. That he was here gave Natasi a lift; he was on her short list of ‘must-haves’ -- those whose corporate achievements or personal qualities made their involvement with the First Order her top priority. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=18.6667px]“Oh, we had some idea,” she responded to his question. “The First Order and industry are natural partners. We simply need to get the message out there. Granted, we have stumbled on messaging in the past but we're really at the dawn of a new age. I think we are in a position to form meaningful partnerships with the business community to the benefit of us all.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=18.6667px]She paused to sip her gin and tonic before looking up to Irani. “What say you, Mr. Irani? Is there a possibility of cooperation and good will between our two groups? Or are you here for the open bar? No judgment.”[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

A snort was efficiently suppressed.

“I wish my schedule allowed for frequenting get-togethers just for their open bars, miss Fortan.”

The truth was that Darell had little to no free time anymore. This might seem surprising considering this was the same man who had juggled multiple personas for decades long, alternating between being a Sith Lord and a responsible and successful entrepreneur, but that was the entire thing. He had juggled it. Most of his actions had come from intermediaries, delayed appointments and pushing things back as far as possible.

Looking far into the future and planning things out had helped, of course.

But now that Carach was dead… it was time to have a bigger hand in his businesses. It meant attending meetings, scheduling multiple appointments throughout the day and a whole lot of paperwork.

It was more fun being a Sith.

“No, contrary to my colleagues I recognize that sometimes… there is a need to establish consequence after regrettable actions.” The Sith in him understood completely, even when the outer persona pretended otherwise.

Though it was also the fact that Eriadu’s losses had only been a drop in the metaphorical bucket for him that made it far more easy to stomach.

“So yes, pending the further quality of your drinks, I am sure we can find a mutual ground in these talks.”

 

[Natasi Fortan]

[SIZE=18.6667px]Natasi sighed inwardly. How long would Eriadu hang like an albatross around her neck? It was regrettable, to be sure, but really there came a time when one had to move forward and leave the past in the past. Granted, it was easier to say from her side of the table than theirs, but still. “Indeed, yes,” she agreed with a forced smile. “We hope to tailor some of our outreach to those impacted by… previous conflicts. I know some of your -- well I can't really call them your peers, can I? -- contemporaries, then. They seem to expect some level of self-flagellation that is, I'm afraid, not ever going to happen.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=18.6667px]The old Natasi would have bristled at being called miss (twice, even). As the daughter of an earl, she had never been a miss, but Lady Natasi since the nursery. But she didn't flinch, or comment. She was too drained to be bothered by the small things, when there were very large things consuming her already. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=18.6667px]“I admire a man who takes care of business,” she told Irani in response to his quip about the bar. “That's part of what I want to discuss with the business community. Clearing up the red tape, making industry more profitable and secure. I only hope that the indiscretions of the past don't overshadow the opportunity we have to move forward.”[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

The subtext wasn’t lost to him.

This was one of the reasons why the Primeval Space was so lucrative for the less morally-inclined corporations of the Galaxy, like Titan Industries… and the Saiba Group. With few regulations and rules bogging them down, plus the formal support of the regime they were basically allowed to do whatever they wanted within some boundaries, of course.

If the Order was proposing a similar concept: a freedom from regular regulations and red tape to stimulate growth, the development of experimental technology and minimum taxes, in return for the corporations’ business and injection of capital into their territories?

Well, that would make the Order’s territory vastly more interesting.

“I am sure that such a proposition will go a long way towards making the cynics and grudge-holders more amicable towards the Order.” Irani replied carefully in between sips, it was a good drink, so that was one point towards their catering.

After that he waved his hand vaguely to the side.

“As for the desire for self-flagellation I could not speak to this, but I do think that showing strength in the face of adversity is not a negative thing.”

Diplomatic, supportive and still cautiously vague.

Irani had been playing this game for too long to string himself towards one party too tightly. As some likened to say after getting to know him: “Mister Irani works for only one man, and that is Mister Irani.”

The CEO raised his glass half an inch in salute.

“It was a pleasure, my dear, but the Arceneau representative has been trying to catch my attention for the past five minutes. I am sure we will see each other again soon.”

And with that, another tug at his drink and a pleasant nod Darell detached himself from Fortan, before mingling his way into the crowd again.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi listened intently to Irani’s commentary, offering a thoughtful nod as he concluded. She had to admit to herself to being impressed by the man's grasp on the state of play. She hoped that her encounters with the others on her must-have list were to be as encouraging,but for the moment she moved Datell Irani and Iron Crown to the top of her mental list. She was determined to walk out of this hotel with a win, and for her money there would be no bigger win than Iron Crown.

“Count on it,” Natasi told Irani with a pleasant smile, and watched as he melded back into the crowd. After a moment, she looked around and spotted Sioux, then beckoned her to a private alcove. “Find out what Irani was drinking and send a bottle to his suite with my compliments. And see that he's looked after during his stay. Then pull his file and put it on the sideboard in my suite.”

# # #

As the music in the Grand Salon swelled, Natasi’s feet picked up speed, from a brisk walk at the front of the central aisle, to a near gallop at the end. She heaved the massive door open enough to slip out, then leaned heavily on the door, as if she keeping a monster inside.

It took a moment to collect herself, but when she did, she reflected on the day while wandering away from the salon entrance. The hotel staff were few and far between in the lobby, since most guests were in the concert. Natasi elected for a walk in the water garden as she recalled the events of the day. There seemed to be a good response from the guests, but unfortunately she had been prevented from seeking out Darell Irani again. She had hoped to catch him in a break out session and begin a dialogue about what it would take to get his corporation on board her development scheme.

Perhaps it was serendipity, then, that as she rounded a column in the lobby she saw him, very much not in attendance at the concert. She raised her eyebrows and strolled over, murmuring in a low voice so as not to startle him, “I don't want to push in, but I saw you here and wondered if you had everything you might need. Actually…” She paused to take a breath. “Have you got a few moments? There's something I'd like to talk to you about, if you'll pardon my forwardness.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

The familiar cloud of smoke rose in strings from the narrow tip of Irani’s thin cigarra.

He stood on the balcony overlooking the inner city of Cloud City with its many spires and traffic. The sun had long since set, but there was still some residue red hues reflecting past, bathing the buildings in brief oranges before the shade settled in. Irani was resting, his elbows resting on the balustrade, his cigarra resting between his fingers and his mind resting on the metaphorical cloud.

Orcus had told him about the beauty of Bespin, urged him to buy real-estate himself here, but only now while studying the city resting in the clouds did he realize just how peaceful it was.

Peaceful enough to push away the exhaustion from networking the entire day.

"Lady Fortan." Irani addressed calmly over the smoke without looking her way, but he did use her title now. So perhaps there was a measure of progress in their relationship.

Or perhaps he had read up on her after going back to his suite, just as she had read up on him after their meeting.

"Join me. What’s on your mind?"

The frustration welling up was quickly squashed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, but at the same time he had been quite pleased with himself when he managed to extract himself from the concert with not too much of an issue. You had to be careful about these things, really.

As to not step on any toes.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

“Your Grace,” Natasi returned with a slight bob of her well-coiffed head. She had indeed read up on the man and had formed an even more favorable opinion on his reputation and that of his business. “I hope you'll take this bluntness as a show of respect for your valuable time rather than impatience or impropriety on my part.”

She paused as she noted the cigara in one hand, then with a half smile produced a silver cigarette case from her handbag. “Do you mind?” she asked. Once pleasantries were out of the way she lit the cigarette and took a drag. She didn't smoke often, but during high stress times it helped her to slow down. The tip glowed, casting her face in a dim golden light.

“Here it is,” she said, joining him at the railing. “Getting your company involved in our territory would be a coup for me, and I need a win.” She paused to take another drag, then exhaled silver tendrils that curled around her before dissipating in the wind. “I think you and I could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement on this matter. I can authorize some additional perks not being offered to everyone at this summit. Tax breaks. Discounted land pricing. Fast tracking permits and variances.”

She leaned on the balcony railing and took another pull as she watched the speeders fly by in the distance. “So, what would it take? I'm open to a discussion of terms.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

The question was immediately on his lips, but he gave it a rest for a moment. Instead he simply waited for her to continue, elaborating on why he should give her this coup, this victory. The answers were what he had already been expecting from the subtext of their previous conversation, but it was pleasant to hear it coming straight from her nonetheless.

He didn’t mind vagueness. It was part of their job and the game they played, but at some point there was need for clarity. To see what each party wanted and what they were willing to pay to get exactly their desire.

“Why are you in need of this coup, my Lady?” Irani didn’t add any softening to the question. No ‘If I may ask’ or ‘I hope it’s not rude of me’, they were already laying down their cards on the table.

There was no reason to play coy anymore.

Ardik hadn’t said anything about Natasi being out of favor with the Order, before he had agreed to join the summit. But perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. Gerion was quite… careful when it came to the secrets of those he valued high.

Even if they weren’t Sith.

It was a good value to have, he supposed.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

In a way, it was nice dealing with someone who didn't know all the sordid details of her life. It seemed rare to Natasi, after enduring interviews, depositions, and probes into her trustworthiness, judgment, and past affiliations. But inevitably it needed to be explained.

“My office has recently been the subject of a security investigation after one of my employees defected to the Resistance and then attempted to assassinate me, resulting in my capture and torture at the hands of the Resistance scum. I was found to be entirely without blame, but you can imagine the whispers that follow one about after that.”

She tried to give the story a humorous touch but she knew it rang hollow. The physical wounds from her ordeal had healed, but emotions and reputations didn't respond to bacta.

“If I could secure a partnership between my government and your corporation, it would go towards showing those in the First Order establishment that I am to be trusted and know what I'm doing. And I realize, of course, that none of this is your problem. That's why I'm asking to work with you. What can I give you in return to make such a partnership work?”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Irani did not show any outward signs of surprise, but surprised he was if only a touch.

Not everyone was able keep functioning after being betrayed, kidnapped, tortured and above all that have their reputation and ability questioned on every single turn. This made him slightly more interested in Natasi as a person, rather than just interested in her ability to provide him with the benefits of easy access to this particular government.

“You have my sympathies.” He responded with some reservation after blowing out some smoke into the air.

Sympathies alone did little to inspire her with confidence about her chances though, this he realized. But there were things one needed to ponder when considering investing too deeply into a government, especially one with a reputation such as this one.

And that was the other thing Irani realized. This one wasn’t after a simple and rather minor contract or two, that wouldn’t be a win for her - oh, it would be beneficial for the long run, perhaps. But it would do little to bring her back on the proverbial map in the short run.

“Be candid with me, Natasi, if I may be so bold.” This time he did apply the softening approach, because he was stepping out of bounds. “What are the odds that this Order decides to nationalize any investments me or mine will put forward in these territories?”

He didn’t add the fact that he was a specialist in mentalism. That any lies she spoke would betray her instantly, but there was no need for that now.

This question was less about the real answer, as much as about the amount of forthright she expressed.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi inclined her head gracefully as Irani offered his sympathies. It was a kind gesture but she wondered if she had made herself weak with the admission. There was no use in pretending otherwise; she was negotiating from a position of weakness. All Irani had to do to verify it was pick up an unauthorized First Order newspaper. So in this respect, honesty was the only approach.

If the Moff was bothered by the use of her given name, she made no reaction. Instead she leaned closer, giving all of her attention to the matter at hand, to the exclusion of even her cigarette, which burned itself slowly down towards the filter. “Heavens,” she murmured at his question. “What have I been up until now besides candid?” This was a stalling tactic, for in truth Natasi didn't know how to answer it.

“Never say never, obviously, but I do not foresee it, barring any kind of treasonous activity. I cannot say what the Supreme Leader would or may do, but I would certainly do all in my power -- which, despite my current position is not inconsiderable -- to prevent it. I would say the chances are…” Her eyes rolled back into her head as she did some mental calculations. “... Less than one percent.”

This answer, when given, was the truth as far as Natasi believed. She gave her word as a lady and as a Moff of the First Order.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

The smoke rose and Darell listened as patiently as ever.

She was telling the truth. Oh, perhaps some of it was a little bit of wishful thinking, because he doubted that the chances were one percent as she stated, but she did believe that the chance was remote at best. At least if he didn’t publicly act out against the Orders interests.

It was a good thing then that Irani was known for never taking a side besides his own.

As long as the Order stayed profitable they would enjoy his support.

“I see. Thank you.” Another puff and the silence continued. He mulled over the various details given, the details he had already known, the climate of the First Order and the various holdings they owned.

“Iron Crown has always been a gateway to the Unknown Regions. Virtual monopoly on all the trade going in and out, one of the closest working relationships between the various planets and itself.” Valuable for a nation that was eyeing the former holdings of the Fringe Confederation.

The support of Iron Crown could make things far more easy.

“And the Saiba Group has been a leading corporation in cutting edge technology and experimental development for years now.”

Statements they both already knew, but it was important to underline the sheer difference between what she was looking for and what she could get.

“I suspect that… reeling this whale in could propel you right back in the good graces of the Order and then some, yes?”

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi had forgotten how comforting the scent of t’bacc could be. Her father had smoked a pipe when Natasi was growing up. Cigarras, while a different animal, shared some of the same ritual and smell which, even to this day, gave her some measure of comfort. She found her eyes becoming somewhat heavy-lidded -- not from boredom but from nostalgia.

She followed along, listening intently and nodding her agreement. Iron Crown was indeed quite a prize, and not just because of its inherent abilities or its capable and charismatic leader. Natasi knew that reeling Iron Crown in would be a public relations coup that would signal to other companies that it was safe to explore operating within First Order space.

They were on the same page, it seemed, but Natasi couldn't help but feel he knew he had her over a barrel. She wondered idly whether he was toying with her, enjoying the sight of a major faction’s most seasoned political leader (outside the Supreme Leader himself) squirm like a schoolgirl called before the headmistress. But she had traveled down the primrose path thus far. There was no way to turn back now.

“Yes,” she admitted frankly. “securing an understanding with a business of this magnitude would send a signal about my capabilities. But I would also stress that this wouldn't be a one way street. I know a solid investment when I see one, and Iron Crown is solid, solid enough that the First Order would want to involve it in some potentially lucrative pursuits. Getting you would be a win for me, but I want it to be a win for you too.”

She stubbed her cigarette out and dropped it into the disposer. “What do you think? There's no need to stand on ceremony, please be candid.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

A nod was what she received at first.

He wasn’t, in fact, enjoying toying with her at all. Too many years had passed for him to still get any measure of enjoyment from such petty behavior. No, he was simply probing her for weaknesses, for reactions, for her thoughts - it was imperative to know exactly what kind of person he was dealing with, before getting into bed with her.

Proverbially.

“Yes,” He replied simply. “Pending further details, I think we can come to mutually agreeable terms.”

Darell wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t smell opportunity.

Coming here with a solid no as an answer pre-planned would just be a waste of all their times. And if he was one thing, it was a man who value his time incredibly and above everything else.

“So why aren’t you at that… loudy event of… entertainment.”

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The question hung in the air for several moments; Natasi didn’t want to answer it, she didn’t want to have heard it. She didn’t want anyone to know that she had feelings like anyone else; it was not the Moff thing to do. “Would you believe,” Natasi said finally, with a hollow voice, “that I don’t care for… pop music?” The last two words she said with such disgust, with harsh emphasis on the p’s and c, that they nearly hurt her teeth.

The chill of the night was starting to get to Natasi; she wished she had brought her coat, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate with the rather stylish dress she was wearing. She couldn’t very well ask Sioux for her fur stole back; she wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for when someone was declared dead and was later discovered alive. Natasi didn’t want the other bequests back; the desk set she had left to Gerion Ardik had been lovely but rather more luxurious than she felt entitled to now, and as far as Ludolf went… Well, she had made a fool of herself, hadn’t she, and she would never be comfortable taking the bequest back. Let him use it in good health, or dispose of it. She would not have it in her office or home, a reminder of how stupid and short-sighted she had been, and how it had cost her what might be her only chance at true happiness

Even now, some time later, she couldn’t believe it had happened. She remembered it. She couldn’t forget. Natasi had pounded every word into herself, over and over and over again since it had happened. And yet, she could still not make herself believe that it had happened at all. It was just wrong. There was something off about the physics of a galaxy in which such a thing could occur. As if gravity had shifted, as if quantum mechanics had fallen apart. Or… maybe it just felt that way, because it had happened to her.

She looked away as her eyes filled, on the pretense of hearing a siren in the distance. The last thing Natasi wanted was to embarrass herself in front of a potential business partner, and she believed that she was hiding her trauma from the outside world, never considering what a tumultuous energy she must appear to anyone gifted in the Force. But what could she do? There was no way to stop feeling, particularly feeling something like a wound in her chest, a hole that she thought would never, ever heal. Every breath made the raw edges ache; every heartbeat a grain of salt ground into the wound. It was just… wrong. Why was she the only one who could see that it was just… just wrong? Natasi found it maddeningly difficult to reconcile her comparatively powerful position with an inability to influence events where General Vaas was concerned. And she would still see him nearly every day. It was too much, really, it was.

This internal tantrum all took place in the span of about three seconds. She turned back to Darell and produced a handkerchief from her clutch, which she used to dab her now red-rimmed eyes. “The wind,” she explained with an apologetic half-smile. She looked back to the doorway and then back to Darell. “By all accounts Ms. Choi is a talented singer and a g-great beauty -- but for some reason --” Natasi’s voice had begun to ring hollow and flat again, as if there was a stone lodged in her throat. “-- I cannot seem to muster much enthusiasm for her. And you? To be honest, I wasn’t necessarily expecting you to sit out the concert, but I wasn’t surprised when I saw that you had. You don’t strike me as the type, somehow. I hope you don’t mind my saying,” she added curtly, not wanting to undo all their agreement so far.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Oh, how awkward would this situation have been had Natasi known about Irani’s subtle power within the framework of the Force.

They stood close together, their elbows barely touching and even without that proximity the Sith would have been able to feel the sheer amount of emotions radiating away from her in thick cloudy waves. It wasn’t 'pop music' that this one disliked - even if there was a mild genuine disdain inherent - no, it all revolved around this miss Choi.

All of a sudden Fortan would feel fabric being draped around her shoulders. Whilst she immersed herself deep into her sorrow, pain and agony, the businessman had decided to fix at least one single facet of this dimensioned issue.

He couldn’t fix her heart, but at the very least Irani could make her more comfortable in her discomfort by hanging his overcoat around her.

It would look comedic to others, which is why it was good they were all alone for now.

"Not at all," Irani responded after returning to his previous leaning-against-the-balustrade position. "And you are right, a… pop concert is not exactly to my taste. No offence to miss Choi, of course, I am sure she sounds… lovely to those inclined to that particular genre."

Big shoulders shrugged. Darell looked even bigger without the coat obscuring most of his fame.

"I prefer smaller groups, softer music - classical, maybe some New Coruscanti Glitz if the occasion calls for it or swing." Inhale of smoke, exhale, it calmed his nerves after the emotional storm crashing against his wards. "The works, you know?"

His eyes met hers.

"How about you?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

As the coat settled around Natasi’s slender frame, she instinctively pulled the expansive fabric close to her. “Thank you,” she told Irani with a grateful smile. “One never knew Cloud City was so temperate.” As he returned to his previous position leaning over the balustrade, Natasi mirrored him.

“You like Glitz?” she asked incredulously. “No -- I cannot make myself believe it. I thought I was the only one driving record sales.” Glitz had long been a guilty pleasure of hers; it was not unusual to find the Moff listening to it if she was working alone, late at night. “If you like swing you should attend the gala tomorrow night. I've arranged for the best swing band this side of the core to play. There will be good food and dancing.”

This would be the crowning event of the summit, and Natasi had taken a personal hand in planning the menu, so she was fairly confident that it would impress.

“You'll think me a terrible great walking cliché,” Natasi warned Irani dryly, glancing sidelong along the rail at him. “But I tend to believe apart from the genres we just discussed, there hasn't been a good piece of music written for three hundred years. I like the old classics, and I enjoy opera and the ballet. Do you know, I had the chance to see Lacroix herself in The White Queen five years ago, it was heaven.”

She sighed at the memory, staring into the skyline view.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Neither opera nor ballet had ever really piqued his interest, but he could agree with her on her assessment in spirit.

“No, I think you are right.” He waved away the warning together with the soft smoke still rising. Irani was one of those slow smokers, he liked to savor his cigarras and kept it going for quite some time usually. Though it could be that the price of a single cigarra had something to do with his conservative behavior towards them.

"Since we came out of the darkness and the great plague… what has the Galaxy invested in most? Weapons." The answer came immediately after the metaphorical question. "Grand starships outfitted with thousands of turbolasers, defensive technology that can withstand those same turbolasers, rifles, armor, tanks and fighters. The Galaxy demands their weapons and armor to fuel its endless conflicts."

A shrug followed to underline his own position.

"And we supply them, but in between we lose out on other developments. We are approaching military technological parity… and yet we are stagnating in culture, civilian tech and assorted goods."

He pulled at his cigarra, before shooting a glance at Natasi and then chuckling softly.

"My apologies, you hardly came here to listen to my ranting about the current state of society."