Bethrothed to the Wolves

In one of the countless rooms of the Demici palace, Naaadia stood in front of a large mirror. Motionlessly, she examined her own reflection in the silver surface - the sleek black dress that enveloped her curvy figure, fine fabric intertwining with lace of the same hue to form a daring, yet cultured creation. Soft, wavy ebony hair framed somewhat exotic features of her visage, bronze skin glimmering under the pallid lights of candles.

The look she sported tonight was far from the innocent, scholarly Naadia to be seen whilst the young woman engaged in everyday choirs on her home planet. But the occasion was different too; the Imperials have requested her audience, sending their representative to discuss matters at hand. Bearing the seriousness of the situation in mind, the countess opted to appear determined, yet not too stern. A small satisfied smile finally appeared on her face as a clear sign she had managed to succeed in choosing an attire that would accentuate her femininity without excessive exposition... Naadia remained regal and dignified in a mannerism implied by her name and status. Just as her thoughts raced outwards, setting her mind afloat, Naadia's musings were interrupted by one of her servants that appeared on the door.

''He's here, my lady.'' the girl proclaimed.
''Very well. Take him to the Hall of Thousand Windows. I will meet him there.'' the Countess retorted, turning on her heel to head to the door. As she strolled down a spacious corridor, along an endless row of ornamented columns that supported its arched ceiling, Naadia comprehended herself, abolishing any residual insecurity from her being.
''Be mindful, Naadia. Imperials rarely come with good intentions. Remember what they did to your mother...'' an inner voice sounded, only to be hushed the next moment. This was no time to mourn over the past, but the brunette had hardly forgotten what fate the Empire had installed for her mother. However, Naadia had little reason to be angry; she barely knew Isthar to begin with, as she always considered Lenora her mother. Even if her mother was still alive, Naadia would still remain on Serenno. After all, this was - home.

A colossal wooden door opened, revealing a majestic chamber with a multitude of windows that covered an entire wall. There was no other light outside except the faint sparkle of stars on the early evening sky, the room being lit solely by a vibrant flame that danced inside a marble fireplace that dominated an adjacent wall. In a series of secure steps, Naadia walked to the middle of the suite and buried herself in place, folding hands over her lower abdomen. Dark eyes settled on a figure by the window, a lofty brow quirked in genuine interest.

''Has my passion for alien art offended the Empire again?'' she inquired solemnly, knowing that the Imperials knew of the tendencies of Demici to pursue art the Empire deemed unworthy. Nevertheless, for a handful of credits, all art became worthy.

Delgado Xaanan walked a fine line. His role within the Corporate Sector afforded him the status of a Moff amongst Imperial circles; indeed, the Empire recognised him as such, in rank, title and role. However, the corporations upon which his seat of power rested had been enjoying a certain freedom from the full force of governmental interference for hundreds of years; they had grown accustomed to their freedom under the Republic, and were thus further removed from, and less ready to accept the particular style of leadership that the Empire had established of late.

While his political role was a precarious balance of nightmarish proportions, the compromise between the two warring objectives seemed to have inspired his tailor with new imagination. Adorned with the hallmark signatures of the style behind Imperial uniforms - the high collar, the ellegant simplicity of the design - the ensemble enfolded him in the finest silks available to the Corporate Sector, the slate grey interwoven with a delicate fibre of a regal blue that shimmered almost with pearlescence under the gentle brush of the firelight.

A glimmer of reflection in the array of windows heralded her entrance; he busied himself patiently with a casual inspection of one of the many artifacts dotted around the chamber, allowing the Countess to initiate conversation on her own terms.

He turned slowly, one hand resting casually at the small of his back, while the other gently cradled a glass of something amber and apparently alcoholic that the person who had shown him in was kind enough to provide. He kept his expression - and imagination - under tight control as he regarded the Countess. Apparently his tailor was not the only one whose muse seemed to be particularly active of late; her choice of attire leaving his mind with very few blanks to fill in should it decide to consider how she would appear disrobed.

He allowed a slight hint of a smile to form on his face, though kept it checked at a respectful minimum. "On the contrary," he countered lightly, gesturing towards the sculpture in question with his glass. "My predecessor was something of a collector, and was kind enough to donate much of it when he retired; I have a piece in much the same style in the foyer of my private offices. From Malastare, is it not?"

''I am aware of that, mr.Xaanan. That particular sculpture is over twenty thousand years old. Gran colonists found it in the caves of Malastare some thousand years ago; it is believed to represent the first known deity of the Dugs - Pul'ver the Magnificent who united all Dug clans and led them out of the caves and into the canopies. I believe the one you own is his wife... Testra - the mother of all Dugs. Unfortunately, that one was not for sale.'' Naadia retorted formally, taking a few steps towards the uniform-clad man. Her dark orbs briefly skimmed the surface of his attire, only to note the rank insignia. With her gaze reinstalled on his face, the countess mirrored his smile.

''But I doubt you are here to discuss art. The Empire does not flaunt its finest wolves without a good reason, let alone an executive officer such as yourself.'' she added knowingly, cocking her head to the side, her smile broadening. The Empire, like any monarchy was based on vanity amongst other things; Naadia knew how to feed the ego of its men to gain their favor.
Another step forwards was taken, a small bow following.

''I am Naadia Demici the Third. You must have expected my father... Be so kind to excuse him. He has grown old and tired. I will do my best to represent him accordingly, if you do not mind...'' the brunette trailed off, offering her hand for a mild handshake.

Delgado retrieved his free hand from behind him, and took hers in a gentle but firm grip, bowing his head in deference. The young lady had certainly done her homework, which was something he respected; her apparent comfort with intimate details was not unlike his own, and to not be forced to retreat behind an air of simplicity as he was with the politicians he usually encountered was a refreshing change.

"Quite alright," he responded, reducing the intensity of his smile but lacing it with gentle warmth. His hand retreated, and he took a delicate sip from his glass before he continued. "Your candour is most refreshing; I must admit, the rituals and over-cautious dancing that usually prefaces my political encounters has begun to grow somewhat wearisome."

He considered his position carefully. He held a particular distaste for negotiating through intermediaries, given the constant need to refer back to superiors before a decision could actually be reached. Indeed, that very distaste was the reason he had chosen to come in person, rather than sending one of his enthusiastic, over-helpful, and mostly incompetant aides in his stead. Still, if she was authorised to act as his proxy, perhaps this trip hadn't been wasted after all.

"I shall attempt to be as sussinct as possible as well," he added, his considerations taking no more than a mere fraction of a second. "I am here representing the Corporate Sector on a matter of some urgency: our supply lines are being targetted by the Rebel Alliance, and Serenno is perfectly poised to render aid."

''Perhaps it is best for us to take a seat, mr. Xaanan. For the sake of conformity.'' the ebony haired woman offered, motioning towards two leather armchairs that were to be found in front of the fireplace. With an inviting smile, Naadia paced towards the hearth, the darkened halo of her dress following, lace-rifted creases swaying from side to side as she walked. Sovereignly, she seated herself in the left recliner, comfortably leaning back, legs crossing under the drapery of her skirt. With her gaze pasted to the officer, Naadia absentmindedly signalled to the servant that lurked in the corner and soon enough, a glass found its way in her hand only to be filled with the same amber liquid Xannan enjoyed. For the briefest of moments, her eyes fell upon the beverage that swirled against the bulbous bottom of the glass, its aromatic vapour reaching Naadia's nostrils.

''There is a method of eradication for every vermin. Even for the most...persistent ones. I hardly believe the Alliance represents such a threat to you; the might of the Empire extends to the most distant reaches of the galaxy. However, the pilots of my own fleet often report of these savage attacks... Rampaging civilian targets is nothing short of terrorism.'' the Countess stated in courtesy, the features of her face gaining some austerity. Indeed, it was peculiar to see a large trade fleet being crippled by a handful of starfighters; the strenght of the Alliance was not in their numbers or their firepower, but in their tactful methods and cunning use of limited resources. For that and a number of other things, they gained Naadia' secret sympathies which were, at this particular time, cleverly shielded by a well-orchestrated display of servitude.

''How can Serreno be of assistance, my lord?'' the brunette inquired, a flick of her eyes indicating Xannan's glass needed refilling.

Delgado held the glass poised as one of the servants graciously obliged. He considered offering his thanks to the employee, but considering Demici's approach to the whole situation, he decided that was perhaps unwise, directing his gratutide towards her instead with a silent incline of his head.

He breathed in the drink's aroma, treating his pallette to another taste before he answered her question. "The Hydian Way is the only real secure route that the Corporate Sector has to convey supplies to the Core. Recently, the Rebellion has become increasingly bold in its attempts to ambush our convoys. Individually, each attempt rarely deprives us of much, but the frequency of their raids has left my investors somewhat -" He searched for an appropriate word, waving for vagueness with his hands. "- vexed," he settled upon, eventually.

He paused, allowing another sip of drink to flow past his lips and spread a satisfying warm sensation throughout his body while the fire slowly attempted to achieve the same from without, and considered how best to continue. If Demici was as familiar with galactic politics as he suspected, no doubt she was aware of the agreement he had brokered between the Corporate Sector and the Imperial Navy, securing advanced Imperial vessels to bolster their Sector defenses, and liberating their own ships to help police the trade routes. If his suspicions were incorrect; well, there was no point confusing the conversation with those sorts of details just now.

"We are pursuing numerous solutions," he explained, simply. "One of them is establishing a number of safepoints along the Hydian Way - places of security that our ships can aim for, to avoid the usual ambush points. Our convoys are safe, provided that they are in Hyperspace: our objective is to try and ensure their continued safety when in real-space as well."

He continued a little longer, going on to clarify what was obvious, but unsaid. "I would like to establish one of those safepoints at Serenno, with your permission: your world lies close enough to the Hydian Way that travel to here would mean only a minor detour for even our slowest ships." He chose his next words carefully. "We would, of course, be sure to compensate you for the inconvenience of our presence here."

''Inconvenience?'' Naadia repeated, a feeble laugh leaving her fleshy lips as she elegantly jerked her head backwards, a gesture that suggested any form of compensation would not be necessary.

''The Imperial presence would only implicate more safety for my planet. It is only a matter of time when the Alliance will broaden their terrorist act and attack my own fleet as well. I am sure heads of other royal houses of Serenno share my opinion. If not, I am sure I can make them change their viewpoint.'' she voiced solemnly, an uncanny lustre of the dancing flames mirroring in her dark irises. Another smile was offered, more bewitching in nature, whilst a teeny sip of the beverage was taken again. Stealing a few moments to admire the exquisite taste of the fifty year old Corellian liquor, Naadia turned her attention to the hearth, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from her cheek.

''As future Countess of Serenno, I must assure the well being of my people. The security and the order the Empire provide is something Serenno craves; it has been long that the planet was divided between the reign of two houses - the Nalju and the Demici... Perhaps I can help restore peace with your assistance. Perhaps we can unify under the Imperial banner. Your offer is indeed timely, mr. Xaanan. I am going to start to suspect you somehow tapped into my stream of consciousness, as I was about to visit Coruscant just before you contacted me.'' the Countess explained, last words tinged with half-suppressed mischief. It was rarely that the Empire came asking for something in such a civil way; they mostly took whatever they wanted by sheer force. Deep down, Naadia enjoyed his plead, cleverly conceived in a business offer, opting to prove her allegiance further by declining his generosity.

''Tell me what you need, mr. Xaanan. And I will see that you get it.'' she stated, reinstalling her lips on the rim of her glass to draw another petite sip.

If nothing else, Naadia was certainly ambitious. Under Count Dooku, Serenno had become one of the members of the Confederacy of Independant Systems, though unlike many they had not fallen back under Galactic rule, instead choosing to remain completely sovereign. That one of their Houses was seeking dominance, and would not object to Imperial assistance in achieving that was certainly an interesting prospect; and while Delgado was hardly the political viper that most Imperial Moffs seemed to be, he could certainly see the merits of rendering that assistance, and of being seen to be partly responsible when Empress Tarkin came to be greatful for it.

"It would seem," he said, tilting his glass slightly in salute, "That we have an opportunity to strike up a mutually beneficial arrangement." He took a sip. "And if you are -" His tone remained light, but took on an almost playful conspiratorial edge. "- serious about establishing more formal relations between Serenno and the Galactic Empire, I would be glad to provide assistance in any way."

He considered her offer; tell me what you need. There were certainly pleanty of housekeeping considerations that could be thought of at this time, but Delgado had expected to waste the entire evening trying to win over the Demici's, and hadn't bargained on discussing them nearly so soon. It hardly seemed appropriate either, given the mood, the setting, and the company. This, it seemed, was one of the times where he should allow himself to indulge in the occasional perks that his status provided.

He turned his attention to his glass briefly, and raised it slightly in a toast. "I must confess, this is shaping to be the most productive and enjoyable evening of politics I have ever found myself in, and I have barely been here ten minutes." He smiled. "Here's to the hope that our continued negotiations are equally so."

The Countess smiled back, playfully twirling the drink inside the glass.
''I would hardly call these negotiations, mr. Xaanan. That particular word implies a lot of quaffing over petty details. However, when two sensible individuals meet, a win-win situation is reached quickly.'' she complemented him again, subtly wrapping her words up to pet his ego. Switching her legs over, Naadia leaned forwards, setting elbows on her knee, subsequently leaving a bit more of curvature exposed to his sight. It was a lucid gesture aimed at extracting more details on the proposed deal.

''But you will have to share a few details, I'm afraid. How much resources do you need? Will you set up a base? If so, where?'' she asked, slightly pursing her lips as she peered directly into his eyes. A slight rise in tension could be felt from the air around them, the atmosphere heating from the alcohol that pumped into the blood stream of both.

''And finally, how will your presence here affect my jurisdiction over the planet? There will be nothing stopping you from assassinating me and installing a Moff instead.'' Naadia finalized, her face plastered with sobriety, yet void of any signs of concern.

If Delgado had managed to hold his imagination at bay so far, his efforts were failing catastrophically. It was hard not to notice the seductive way that the firelight danced against Naadia's curves; his mind strayed, images of what it might look like to have that light dancing over her body without being inhibited by the fabric of her dress, the warm fire reflecting onto the chocolate hues of her skin...

He mentally shook himself, forcing his attention back to the business at hand - this was, after all, a business trip; not pleasure. No, he mused, with a little disappointment. Not pleasure.

"Though we may have Imperial affiliations," he said, relying on the speech centers of his brain to force any other notions out of his mind, "The Corporate Sector does not go about things in quite the same way that the Empire would; we are well aware of the benefits of minimal Imperial entanglements. Assassinating you would be -" A tragic waste of life? A tragic waste of beauty? He managed a smile. "- bad business. Serenno is a sovereign world, and I have no wish to make it otherwise."

Taking another sip to steady himself, he puzzled his brow, recalling the preliminary details that had been presented to him when the use of Serenno had first been proposed. "Some sort of permenant facility would of course be useful, if only for administrative reasons. Think of it as a -" He searched his mind for an appropriate parallel. "A consolate: a small compound, devoid of any kind of sizable military presence or equipment. We will of course provide financial compensation for any land and resources required for its construction."

He swilled the glass around; another gesture of vagueness. "Beyond that, we have no desire to establish a presence on the surface; our aim is to ensure the defense of our cargo against Rebel ships and fighters, for which Stormtroopers are hardly suited. The remainder of our forces will remain in orbit, aboard ships, and will not so much as skim the atmosphere without your express invitation."

Naadia lifted a lofty dark brow in genuine interest, canting her head to the side.
''And here I was - deluded - that the Corporate Sector was in the direct service of the Empire. However, I understand why such a powerful consortium like yourselves do align with them. The Imperial fleet has proven efficient against pirate and Rebellion joint raids that seemingly shifted from the Outer Rim inwards, towards the final outpost of the Hydian way. It would only be a matter of time before my own fleet was affected...''

Her words were left hanging, as her gloomy gaze fell upon the remaining liquid in her glass. Admiring the transparency of the amber coloured fluid, the Countess pursed her lips, round cheeks buckling up to extrude her cheekbones. Absentmindedly, her index finger drifted to the tender flesh of her lower lip only to gently stroke it. Fully aware of the subtlety of her gestures, the daughter of Demici enjoyed the attenuate exchange of remarks and weighted notions. The act of diplomacy had never felt so natural as now.

''Very well, mr. Xaanan. You will get your outpost on the surface, with all the infrastructure you might need, whilst I allow for your fleet to remain in high orbit. I do not require any kind of monetary compensation... but...'' Naadia trailed off, noting that one of the servants had opened a glass door that lead onto a spacious terrace overlooking the ocean.

''Do you like Lambro shark, mr.Xaanan?'' the brunette asked upon rising from the seat to her full height, right hand extending in the general direction of the terrace, the light oceanic breeze permeating into the room to tease the dancing flames of the hearth.

Delgado rose himself, matching her movements in true gentlemantly fashion. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of trying it," he admitted, casually smoothing out the front of his jacket. He forced himself to keep his focus on Naadia's eyes, and not on the rather enticing perspective on her cleavage that his few extra inches of height provided. He mirrored her gesture of invitation as well. "Ladies first," he said with a charming smile.

As she led the way towards the open air, Delgado couldn't help but wonder what had been left unsaid when her sentence had trailed away. That she wasn't after financial reparations was a blessing, but as Delgado's years working with the business-orientated Corporate Sector had taught him, you rarely got anything for free. There would be a price tag here, somewhere; and unseen costs made him nervous. He could only hope that the payment she requested would be something he was willing to part with.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he followed her out into the night light, pushing his reservations from his mind. He came gradually to a halt just beside her, and allowed himself a few moments to admire the view. "Beautiful," he said aloud, though he wasn't entirely sure if it was the nightscape or the company to which his mouth had referred. His brow twitched into a frown as he dug deep for something more meaningful and articulate to say. "No wonder you chose to display your collection in a room with so many windows; with vistas like this, your world is practically a piece of art in its own right."

''Indeed. The sentient have created the greatest pieces of art only when they mimicked nature.'' Naadia retorted, allowing the feeble breeze to lift a few ebony locks and flag them behind her shoulders. The air current was warm and dry; coupled with the luminescence of the star alignment, it indicated the peak of summer solstice was just days away. Black fabric hovered over her bronze complexion, secluding and revealing interchangeably. The Countess stood by the edge of the terrace and placed her hands on the stone railing, then glanced sideways, dark eyes searching for his gaze.

''Now you understand what it is...what I try to protect. It is not merely the landscapes...but a way of life, values...that need preserving. Principles even. And given your reputation, mr. Xannan... I am sure you are a man of principles too, like myself...'' she trailed off, diverting her look downwards.
''Well, a woman even...'' Naadia corrected herself, biting her lip inwardly. Her facial features grew more timid as she lulled herself into her new role.

''I wish to trust you, mr. Xaanan.'' the ebony haired woman stated solemnly, reestablishing eye contact . At that exact moment, light from scattered lanterns illuminated a table set for two several feet away. One side of Naadia's mouth stretched into a lop-sided smile as she offered her hand to Delgado for guidance.
''Ah.... Dinner is served.'' the Countess whispered tacitly, producing a swift yet elegant turn on her heel, ready to be escorted to the dining table.

Delgado took her hand delicately, though with a certain amount of trepadation at the prospect of prolongued physical contact. He was suffering from a rising feeling that he might do something he would regret if he allowed his restraint to slip too far, and that would hardly be conductive to his mission of interstellar politics.

Still, his responsibility as a gentleman superceded his concerns, and he led Naadia carefully across towards the table that he hadn't even noticed her servants putting together. He released her hand briefly, stepping behind one ornate yet simple chairs, and pulling it out so she could settle into place. His fingers accidentally brushed against her shoulder as he released his grip on the chair; a hesitation allowed that contact to linger for perhaps a moment more than was appropriate, and he was forced to rip his hand hastily away.

Fighting to battle down his awkwardness, he rounded to the far side of the table, and lowered himself into his own seat, throwing Naadia what he hoped was a casual smile. He managed to get himself captivated by those dark, mysterious eyes when he glanced in her direction, however. Damn. He grabbed the napkin from the table, and payed close attention to positioning it correctly in his lap, marshalling his courage and composure.

When he finally returned his attention to the dinner, he looked at the food before him with intregue; presented with far more care and attention than his own staff ever managed to muster. He supposed that was the dividing line between an elected official and royaly; there was probably a somewhat reduced fear of being executed by Xaanan if their presentation wasn't up to scratch. Perhaps he should arbetrarily shoot the next person who didn't quite cook his steak right, and then see what happened.

He shifted his gaze back to Naadia, waiting for her to set the precedent for the amount of gusto he should expend in tucking in to the meal. Instead, he distracted himself by retrieving the glass of lightly sparkling white wine that the almost invisible staff had provided him with. He raised it in another half-toast. "I could certainly become accustomed to hospitality of this pedigree," he admitted, with another hopefully casual smile.

''Then consider the door of the house of Demici always open.'' the Countess replied, picking up her own glass to toast him. Bubbles that effervesced out of the wine released a sour-sweet scent that mesmerized the senses, the fine aroma of frosted grapes ready to be tasted when Naadia brought the rim of the glass to her lips. A small, cultivated sip was taken, dark eyes falling to gaze at the surface of the liquid that filled the crystalline glass. A few droplets remained trapped amidst the flesh of her lips, only to be quickly removed as her tongue swept over them.

''Leave us.'' was the single, almost inaudible commandment that was whispered into the darkness, the servants instantly obeying it, discretely retrieving through the door of the terrace and back into the Demici house. Naadia trusted her staff, but she opted to give her guest a sense of privacy that a man of his status would greatly appreciate. Having noticed how he reacted to her, the Countess refrained from pressing any further; instead, she produced a kind smile, her dark orbs glistening in the faint light. Refined and cultured, her gestures bore no lecherous intent, yet their femininity remained undisputed.

''Naadia. That is my name. I suggest you use it. There is no need for titles now. We are alone.'' she said solemnly, picking up a fork and elegantly stabbing a small piece of chopped up fish meat covered in a dark sauce on the plate in front of her. Before bringing the chunk to her mouth, she inquiringly eyed her counterpart, ready to test his knowledge of galactic commerce.
''Delgado - '' Naadia started off, boldly using his first name without his prior consent ''Do you know what is the main export of Serenno?''

Delgado knew, of course; the beautiful gems and jewelry that Serenno exported to the galaxy were famous on even the most remote worlds all the way from the Core to the Outer Rim. He could explain as much with ease; his impressive memory for facts and figures could even provide statistical information on the value of Serenno craftsmanship on most of the key trading outposts in the Galactic Empire as they had been when during the moments before his shuttle had landed on the surface.

But why would he do that - spend the next several minutes vocalising memorised facts - when hearing the same words from the soothing and delicate voice of his companion was a far more pleasant prospect.

Having liberated a small mouthful of food from his plate, Delgado allowed the flavours to wash over his pallatte. He was hardly a fan of seafood - his first encounter with the Mon Calamari and Quarren had put him off that particular branch of cuisine, which he hadn't been particularly fond of to begin with. Whether it was the manner in which the Lambro had been prepared or seasoned, or something in the thick, viscous sauce he couldn't be sure, but the way the flavours cascaded over his senses was a revelation, and it took a great effort in self control not to dive immediately back into the meal and gourge on as much of it as possible.

That somewhat drained his self control in other areas, unfortunately. "Hopefully recipes rank highly on the list," he countered with a lopsided smile. "This is delicious."

The smile faltered a little as his eyes once again became ensnared by hers; he sincerely hoped that the flush of warmth that swept through his body, and the tightness that began to plague his chest was an adverse reaction to some ingredient in the meal, and not the result of something much less appropriate. He retrieved his glass and took a steadying sip.

"Jewelry," he said at length, steering the conversation back to a topic that was hopefully far less alluring. "Some of the finest in the galaxy, I'm told."