A/N: Many thanks to everyone who's reading and especially reviewing! I'm sorry this update is so late - Halloween and work conspired against me. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and many many thanks to Buttercup for her beta!

The Dutiful Wife

WendyNat

Chapter Four
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Natrie stood on the balcony of their apartment, watching speeders and transports stream by. So many beings, so many individuals, so many stories. Would anyone believe hers, she wondered, picking at a rough spot on the balcony railing. It wasn't likely; she could hardly believe it herself. A dark blue speeder passed by, its brilliant metal shining from the lights of the surrounding vehicles, and her thoughts turned - once again - to Vrindo Larzin. To what she'd agreed to do.

It was a thrilling thought, a coveted daydream, to be a part of the Rebellion. She'd read spy stories as a young girl, watched Holo mystery programs, and had always envied the lives of the characters -- exciting and beautiful, with romance and intrigue around every corner, and a noble cause at their back. But fiction rarely gave full disclosure, and daydreams never did. The characters never mentioned, in those stories, how nervous they were, how scared, how they weren't certain they could keep going, or even how they weren't certain they could begin.

Now that she'd made the decision, she didn't know where to begin. Vrindo had said he'd handle it, that he'd handle everything. That she and Mierie would be protected. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and she studied the passing speeders with a more critical eye. Were they being watched, even now? Had they been watched before? It should have been a chilling thought, but instead she found it comforting.

What was she supposed to do? Would the Rebellion really find value in what little she knew? Perhaps the special meetings that her husband attended might be of some interest, but the normal day-to-day events in the Imperial Navy wouldn't be of any use to the Rebellion – or would they?

A breeze came up, blowing her cloak to one side, and she shivered slightly before pulling it back around her. She normally tucked Mierie in, but he'd insisted on doing that night, since he would be leaving before she awoke the next morning. Her husband was set to be away for a few days for another special meeting, this time to a location near the Outer Rim. Mierie was disappointed; Natrie was ecstatic. Not only because she wouldn't have to wear her mask quite so diligently, but also because it was possible he would come back with information that could be some use to Vrindo.

She left the railing and sat, enjoying the cool evening air, letting the zip of the speeders and lower thrum of the transports lull her. And so it was with irritation that she saw her husband walk out onto the balcony. He held a datapad in his hand, and she wondered at it as he sat and said, "It's a nice night."

It was. "Yes, it is." She smiled at him, feeling a small pang of guilt as she did so. She knew she shouldn't feel guilt, not after all that had happened, not after all he had brushed aside as inconsequential, yet the idea of loyalty was too ingrained in her to react otherwise. Soon, she would be breaking that loyalty, and it was unsettling. Though, hadn't she been breaking it all along, by teaching Mierie of things she knew her husband would not approve?

"Did Sera send you another invitation?"

Natrie sighed, glancing at the datapad in his hands. She should have known that he had looked through her personal communications – but at least he was pretending to ask the question he already knew the answer to. "Yes."

Sitting back, her husband stared at her seriously, and she tensed, waiting for the expected missive. "You should accept. It doesn't look very good, that you've turned her down so-"

"No."

"Natrie, you spend so much time with the Admiral's wife-"

"Trienne," Natrie snapped. He seemed almost frightened to say her friend's name – as if it would be disrespectful in some way. It irritated her - Trienne was just a person, not a goddess made flesh just because of who her husband happened to be. A delightful person, to be sure, and one that Natrie greatly enjoyed spending time with, but a person nonetheless.

Her husband paused a moment, then his jaw set and he continued, "You spend so much time with her at these functions, the other wives don't get a chance to speak with you. And it's hardly politically advisable for you to snub the others completely."

"I can hardly snub the Admiral's wife, can I? What are you suggesting, that I tell her I can't speak at the next event because some lower officers' wives might feel bad?" Natrie's voice grew more heated as she spoke. It was one thing for him to make demands on her for these functions – they were a side aspect of his career – but to make demands on her personal time?

"Of course not!" He tossed the datapad to the balcony's stone floor, and she winced when it struck hard. Hopefully it hadn't broken; if it had, he'd somehow make it out to be her fault. "But it would be only natural for you to socialize with some of the other wives when you do get a chance, since you are unable to at these functions."

It was reasonable; she knew it was reasonable, but she felt unaccountably defiant. Rebellious, even. It was a particularly apt choice of words. "I already said no."

He stared at her, his face tight, then he stood and very precisely straightened his shirt. "Later, after I return from assignment, we'll discuss this again. Maybe then you'll be more reasonable."

I doubt it.

He left the balcony without another word, without even a glance in her direction. Clenching her fists, she took several deep breaths, waiting for the irritation to cool. This was certainly not the best way to leave things - if he went on the trip while angry, he'd be cool towards her when he returned, and less likely to speak of what occurred. Normally, that wouldn't have bothered her very much, but now things were different. She couldn't waste a perfect opportunity to learn more because of a fit of pique.

Rubbing her face, she leaned over and picked up the datapad before rising to follow him inside. She really needed to set up a passcode of some sort, but if she did that now, he'd think it suspicious. Yet one more thing she should have done long ago, in the early stages of their marriage. There were many opportunities missed, in those years.

By the time she finished straightening up the front room and replacing the now-dented datapad, he had already changed into his sleeping clothes. She bit back a sigh and walked into their bedroom, wondering what it would be that night: the icy silence, the sullen one-line comments, or the outright hostility? When he looked at her sadly and then glanced away, she grimaced. This night's reaction would apparently be the affected pain of the martyr. She rather thought she'd prefer the icy silence.

Reminding herself of her duty, not only to him but to the Rebellion, she took a deep breath and walked up behind him, touching his bare shoulder. "I'm sorry, beloved. I spoke too quickly out there, and I want you to know I will think on it."

As expected, he turned, and smiled, lifting one hand to stroke her cheek. "That's all I ask."

But it wasn't all he was asking, and they both knew it.

The next day, she enjoyed the calm silence, and took the time to watch some recent HoloNet broadcasts. It was pleasant to view the stories without the commentary from her husband, and she'd started to wait until he was off at work, or on one of his trips, before she watched anything in-depth. Some of the broadcasts she saved to show Mierie, and she was proud of her daughter's growing ability to see through the Empire's spin. Perhaps they'd rewatch some that evening… Natrie glanced at the chronometer and realized it was time to pick her daughter up from her friend's house.

She frowned as she turned off the holo projector and grabbed her cloak and boots. Her husband had been called away more often than before, and while she appreciated the respite, she worried at what it might mean. Another promotion, another set of responsibilities and more pressure to socialize, she suspected. It would be a boon for her recent decision, of course – the wife of a higher level officer would be even more valuable to the Rebellion. He would have higher security clearance, would be admitted to even more of the special meetings, be privy to more of the planning and long-term preparations of the Empire.

As she made her way to the ground floor of their building, she winced. A promotion would also mean that they would be invited to even more mind-numbing functions, likely some off-planet that she'd have to attend with him. She didn't like the idea of leaving Mierie for so long, but there was little to be done about it, and there was little point in worrying over it before it even came to pass.

With relief, she stepped out onto the street, leaning her head back to draw in a deep breath. The cool air against her face was calming, and helped to clear her head. She liked that Mierie's friend lived so close; walking was far preferable to riding in one of those hired ships. She always felt awkward taking those, but she'd feel even more awkward flying herself – piloting wasn't a skill she'd taken to very well. Her father had tried to teach her, before his death, but she'd only gained a rudimentary knowledge of the skills involved.

The afternoon was darker than normal due to the heavy cloud cover blanketing the city, but luckily it hadn't decided to rain. The threat of it was enough to keep some of the normal crowds off of the street, however, and so she enjoyed a rather leisurely walk. Buildings rose all around her, and she still found it to be an exhilarating sight. On her home planet of Gabris Prime, they'd kept as much of the natural landscape as they could. She did miss it on occasion, but it was interesting to walk here, where buildings obscured almost all sight of the sky from the street, unless one looked directly up. A testament to the heights beings could reach, if they worked together.

She nodded pleasantly to a woman she recognized from the functions, and bit back a sigh when the other woman just raised an eyebrow and continued on her way. The wife of a junior officer, but one who was rising in the ranks quite steadily…. Natrie pulled her cloak around her and absently ran her fingers along the edge of the material, considering the woman's reaction. She didn't know how much longer she could resist her husband's recent request. He had had a point, after all, but did Sera Saan have to be the one that continued to hound her so? There were others that weren't so obviously working the game that she would much rather spend time with. Perhaps she would send some invitations of her own out. That ought to satisfy her husband, as well as the social butterflies among the wives.

She bit her lip as she considered the various possibilities, so distracted by her thoughts that she was oblivious to her surroundings, and so the low voice that came from behind startled more than it should have. "You should listen to your husband."

"What?" Her head whipped around, and she blinked when she saw Vrindo standing there. Ignoring the rush of excitement when she set eyes on him - quite separate from the adrenaline rush she'd felt when he'd startled her - she tilted her head. "What did you-"

"You should do what your husband said. Visit Sera." He glanced casually up and down the street, then took her arm and, in a friendly gesture, beckoned her to continue walking.

"But-"

"Wait just a moment, Natrie. A little more privacy is always a good thing, and neither of us has much time."

She nodded, and didn't protest as he led her to a small side street, which was sheltered from the main road. Letting her arm drop, he turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"How did you know-" She stopped, then, and asked the more pertinent question. "Sera Saan? Why should I-"

"Play the game, Natrie. It's the only way to win. The only way to protect your daughter – and yourself." A smokestick flared to life and she stared at the red and orange end as it glowed brighter with each inhalation. After a few puffs, he lowered it.

"I don't think I want to play Sera's game," she muttered, but stopped when his expression grew serious.

"Not everyone is what they seem. You weren't, after all."

Then, before she could respond, he touched her hand, turned, and walked off. She stared after him, confusion flooding her. Not everyone is what they seem. That was true enough, but… Sera? She had a hard time believing that one wasn't playing the game whole-heartedly. She shook her head and continued on her way, but later that night, after Mierie was in bed, she pulled up the most recent invitation on the scuffed datapad and typed out a response.

An acceptance.

And so it was that, the very next day, she found herself in Sera Saan's sitting room, sipping at a drink that was, this time, not the typical syrupy concoction Sera seemed to prefer at the functions. It was light, with subtle sweet undertones, and not at all what Natrie had expected. That had been a surprise, as was the room itself. The decorations in the Saan home were tasteful, and quite similar to what Natrie herself had chosen for their home. For some reason, she'd expected something more garish.

"So," Sera said, watching Natrie closely over the lip of her cup. "What did you think of what happened with the Suni Neroon situation?"

Natrie took her time answering, returning Sera's gaze. Sera seemed different, somehow, and she wondered if it was just a result of being on her 'home turf', or if the other woman was also irritated by her friendship with Trienne. "It was a surprise, actually. I didn't know much about Suni, but I'd never have suspected she'd have the nerve to… to attack troopers."

Sera pursed her lips and nodded, sending her a pointed look. "You weren't surprised she left her husband?"

Natrie shrugged, frowning inwardly as she answered in the expected manner. This visit certainly wasn't what she'd expected. Where was the incessant empty talk, the maneuvering for her husband's benefit? After the initial pleasantries, the visit had seemed more like an interview of sorts, a toe in the water to test the heat.

Was she being baited? It was possible, but didn't seem likely. Perhaps Sera had overheard Natrie and Trienne once and started to wonder if there was more to Natrie, just as Natrie now suspected there was more to Sera than she'd initially thought.

Suddenly, the tone sounded at the door and, pursing her lips, Sera shook her head. "I didn't expect him back so soon."

"Your husband? I don't want to intrude-" She made to set her drink down, but Sera stopped her.

"No, no, stay. He won't mind us talking here, right, darling?" Sera smiled and stood as a man appeared in the doorway, and Natrie felt a stab of envy when she saw the sincere affection in the other woman's face. It seemed the similarities between their homes ended at the decorations. "Oren, you've met Natrie, haven't you?"

"Yes, yes, hello." Oren smiled in her direction, his expression much easier than she'd ever seen it at one of the functions. He was a striking man, with deep black hair and a wide smile. The two made an attractive couple. "Welcome. I'm glad you decided to come by. I heard the Lieutenant Commander was off on assignment; it must get lonely sometimes."

"Sometimes, yes. But Mierie, our daughter, keeps me…" Her voice trailed off, eyes widening when another man appeared behind Sera's husband.

Vrindo.

Oren's smile broadened when he caught sight of Natrie's expression. "You know my brother-in-law, I believe?"

"You know that she does, love." Sera smirked in her direction. "Most of the Rebel informants on Coruscant do."

Completely unprepared for the words, Natrie froze, and she could feel her heart beating in her chest as she stared at the blonde woman. Then she shifted her gaze to Vrindo, and her initial feeling of fear merged into one of disbelief when she saw him roll his eyes.

"Imperial Center, my dear, not Coruscant," Vrindo corrected in an amused tone. Coruscant. It wasn't an often-used name, not since the Emperor had declared the planet now had a new title and status. "Oren, I thought you were going to work with her on that?"

Sera made a face at Vrindo, sitting down with a flounce. "An intentional slip, Vrindo. I'd only say it in safe company."

Finally finding her voice, Natrie forced out, "You're both spies?" Sera looked at her and smirked again.

"Such a harsh word. I prefer 'Rebel informants', myself."

"Spies works for me. There's no point in couching it in pretty terms, is there?" Vrindo said.

Sera waved her hand. "I like pretty things." She cut a glance at Natrie, then turned back to Vrindo. "And so do you, my dear brother."

"Half-brother."

"Close enough."

Natrie shifted uncomfortably, the deep blue fabric of her skirt making a low noise as it caught on the soft pile of the cushions. She had no siblings of her own, and while she knew that such banter and goading was typical, she had no idea how to react. She had no idea how to react to any of this. Dozens of questions lined up in her head, but she didn't know which to ask first.

Oren seemed to notice her unease, and stepped forward. "Now, now, not in front of the guest, you two. Try to behave, while I go get a couple of extra glasses." With that, he left the room.

"She's not a guest, she's part of the family, Oren," Sera called after him. "The Rebel informant family."

"And we don't want to scare her off right at the beginning, now, do we?" Vrindo raised an eyebrow at Sera, who just shrugged, then he turned back to Natrie.

She felt as if her head was spinning. Sera, she never would have thought… and her husband, also? Natrie had known, logically, that there had to be spies in the military itself, but she never expected it to be someone she knew.

She stared as Vrindo sat down across from her. "Relax, Natrie. It's a bit of a shock, especially since you've spoken to Sera before."

"Yes. Of course, I just…"

"Didn't expect anything more than the typical empty-headed Imperial wife?" Sera propped her chin on her hand and smiled. The expression seemed more than a little predatory.

Natrie shifted her drink from one hand to the other, absently noting the sweat marks she left on the glass. "Well… I..."

"Leave her be, Sera." Vrindo shook his head at his sister. His eyes softened when he turned back to Natrie. "Since you're here," he said, "quite by happenstance, of course-"

"Happenstance…" Natrie frowned as a sudden suspicion hit her. "How long has this been planned?"

"How long has what been planned?"

"Getting me to… I thought it was just when you saw me that night on the balcony, and found out I hadn't told my husband, but that was the same night Sera…"

"Oh, don't stop there." Sera took a sip of her drink, her eyes glittering with amusement. "'The same night Sera' what?"

"Well, that night was the first night you accosted me-" She stopped and shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, that's probably not the right way to put it."

"Oh, it's the perfect way to put it," Vrindo muttered, staring at the ceiling.

"And is it so wrong to want Oren to rise in the ranks? You said it yourself, Vrindo, time and again: 'play the game, it's the only way to win.'" As Sera imitated Vrindo's voice, Natrie admitted silently that it was a rather accurate rendition, at least in inflection and delivery. There was no way Sera's voice could mimic the deeper, richer tones of her brother.

"Speared by my own words." Vrindo sighed. "Won't be the last time, I'm certain."

"I'm certain, too," Oren said as he returned to the room with two fresh drinks. He set them down on the table, then took a seat. "Sera was just working towards her normal goal that night, Natrie. It was pure coincidence."

"Or meant to be, some would say. The will of the Force." Natrie shot a glance at Sera, surprised - even with her newfound knowledge - to hear such things from the other woman.

Oren nodded casually at his wife's comment. "Some would. Now, perhaps we ought to give her some information? Vrindo did say he hadn't spoken to her since-"

"Right. Right, as always, Oren." Vrindo leaned forward and retrieved his drink from the low table. "You already know the basics. Intelligence is what we need. We all keep our ears open, and our eyes watchful. Oren is fairly well-placed, but the Imperial Navy is tight with security, and rank comes into play. So, anything that you hear from your husband could be of use."

"What type of things are you looking for, in particular?" Natrie asked. "If I knew what to steer a conversation to…"

"Information on planets that might be next on the Empire's list for attack, weaknesses in the ranks, location of weapons caches, new weapons and technology, weak points in security, troop movements... basically, anything."

Natrie blinked. On occasion, her husband would tell her things relating to such matters, but it wasn't a constant topic of conversation.

"What we don't want is for you to all of a sudden begin with the questions. Keep the status quo for now, and add a question here or there, prod him for more gradually-" Oren didn't even blink when his wife interrupted him.

"And what is the status quo, may I ask? What does he normally tell you?"

Natrie twisted the cool metal of her wedding ring with her thumb as she considered the question, and a thin tendril of guilt fluttered within her. Before it could take hold, she wrapped both hands firmly around her glass. "Sometimes he'll talk of what they'll be doing, plans and such. But mostly he just vents, really, especially after those special meetings."

"Vents?" Sera tapped one finger on the arm of her chair, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes. About arguments during the meetings, inefficiencies, who dislikes who, that sort of thing."

"Excellent. Pay close attention, next time, and let us know anything you hear. Particularly about the infighting," Oren said.

"That sort of thing would be useful?"

"Eminently." Vrindo sat back, swirling his drink. "When there's animosity like that, Officer A will be much more likely to blame Officer B's incompetence, rather than look deeper into any…"

"Discrepancies?" Oren offered.

"Right. Discrepancies, indiscretions, things going not exactly according to plan."

"Not going according to plan?"

"Sometimes our spies-" Vrindo glanced at Sera, lifting his eyebrow challengingly. "-get sloppy. They forget things, or aren't familiar with the normal workings of a certain regiment. It helps to have a scapegoat at the ready."

Sera nodded impatiently. "And any of the plans you do hear, anything he says, could be helpful. We're working on Oren's rank, but for now he's shut out of a lot of that-"

This time, Oren interrupted Sera, but she seemed a bit more put off by it than he had. "I see some of it, but most of those upper officers won't show a drop of emotion outside of closed doors, much less discuss plans with a lowly junior lieutenant."

"And right now, he's still on the other side of those doors." Sera's expression was determined, and so unwavering that it took Natrie aback. "For now."

"Well, I've got some more interviews to conduct. The Admiral is looking for an initial cut soon." Vrindo stood. "And, not to cut things short, but this might be a bit long for an initial social call from Natrie, don't you think, Sera?"

Sera glanced at the silver wall chronometer and grimaced, nodding. "I think so."

Natrie also rose. "Well, thank you, Sera, for your hospitality." Her head was still spinning as she tried to reconcile the image she'd once had of Sera - and Oren - with this new knowledge. With a deep breath, she looked at Vrindo, glad for his presence. "I assume I send information to you through Sera?" She felt a slight pang at the thought.

"Exactly, and it's why I suggested you come here."

"I really should be offended, you know," Sera said. "I send you multiple invitations, and you ignore them, but Vrindo makes one suggestion and you come racing over."

Natrie bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Luckily, Vrindo stepped in.

"Enough, Sera," Vrindo said, not taking his eyes off Natrie. "You might want to make it a habit to stop by here frequently. That way it won't stand out, those times that you do see her for business."

"We're about to become very close friends." Sera smiled and raised her glass in Natrie's direction. "Very, very close friends."

"I told you not to scare her off, Sera."

"Oh, that wouldn't scare her off. We've had a lot of conversations at the officers' functions."

Vrindo gave her a dubious look before offering Natrie his arm. After a few more farewells, he led her out onto the private balcony and then around, through the covered path leading to the landing pad.

As they approached the pad, she reluctantly let go of his arm and pulled out the small datacard that the transport had given her to signal for pickup. Vrindo stopped just inside the opening and frowned back at her. "A transport? I'd wondered why I didn't see your ship here. Surely your husband left the speeder for you to-"

"Oh. Yes, yes he did. But I hate piloting." A breeze blew through the causeway and swirled her hair around her head, and she fought to get it back under control. "I'm not very good at it, I'm afraid."

"Did you never learn?"

"I did. The basics, at least, from my father. And my husband took me out in our speeder a couple of times, just to be sure I could fly it if I had to. But I'm not very comfortable with it."

"You ought to get him to take you out again, to get used to it. There's nothing more dangerous than a nervous pilot."

She paused, her hands stilling their movement in her hair, until she saw him frown. With a sharp shake of her head, she said, "I don't think so. It wasn't… it wasn't a very pleasant experience. He isn't the best teacher."

"Ah. A perfectionist, no doubt."

She grimaced. "Perfectionist doesn't even cover it."

Vrindo leaned against the wall, watching her twist her hair into a knot behind her head. "The more I hear, the less I like him."

Natrie laughed, but it was a dry sound. "Well, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be of any use to you, so I suppose there's some benefit to the way he is." There had to be.

"Perhaps." Vrindo studied her for a few more moments, and then took out a smokestick. "On that subject… you might be able to report directly to me here, actually. I'm around often enough. Sera cooks better than my non-existent servants do."

Natrie smiled. "The typical bachelor?"

He chuckled. "She does cook quite well, but it's really just a convenient excuse. And Oren, of course, I've been friends with him since school."

"Did he do his homework for classes?" Natrie asked with a half smile.

"Much more than I ever did." He ran a hand through his hair, shifting it so that it would blow away from his face. "I was too busy practicing to become the typical bachelor."

Natrie laughed. "Well, your practice paid off."

He leaned his head back against the stone wall and stared at her thoughtfully, the ashes from the forgotten smokestick falling to the tiles below before getting taken up by the breeze.

"Do you really listen, when Sera has you in her clutches at those 'events'?"

Natrie smiled, and looked over to the landing pad, where the transport had just pulled up. "Hardly a word. But I'm a good actress."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

--

Her husband returned two days later, precisely on schedule. Mierie was still in classes when he came through to the bedroom, where she was hanging up the uniforms she'd retrieved from the laundry earlier that day.

She hung the final uniform and turned. "You're back!" She hoped her smile seemed sincere enough.

He nodded. "It completed on schedule, for once." Crossing the room, he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her briefly. "I heard you were busy while I was gone?"

She smiled, then shyly lowered her face, pressing against him. "Sera was very pleasant. I'm…" The words were difficult to force out, and she frowned at the floor, berating herself for being weak. Strength she needed, to feign weakness. To wear her mask. "I'm sorry I was so difficult, darling."

He pulled back, looking down at her with a smug smile. "I knew you would come around. I'm not sure why you protested - you've always been able to speak to almost anyone."

She nodded, though her throat closed. Did he even know her at all? After a moment, she forced a self-deprecating smile. "Well, you said I was too soft-hearted, didn't you?"

He laughed, and she studied him critically. He really was a handsome man. It was a shame that she knew him too well, now, and could no longer see his virtue through his faults. "Mierie has a bit of that trait, too. She has the best of both of us, I think."

At that, her eyes did soften in truth, and the smile came easily to her lips. "She does." Moving to the dressing table, she sat and picked up a comb, turning it in her hands. Trying to sound casual, she said, "Did Suni and Commander Neroon have any children?"

"One, I believe. He's grown, though. Stationed somewhere near Endor." Her husband walked up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders before pulling her hair back from her neck.

"Oh." Still fiddling with the comb, she twisted one long hair around her finger. "Do you think… do you think she was bored, maybe? With no work to do, really, and no children nearby…"

"Bored?" He chuckled. "Now, how could that be? There's entertaining to be done, and the Neroons hosted a number of dinner parties."

Entertaining. She stared at his reflection, and instead of his face she saw an endless future stretched out before her, filled with social parties and stilted conversation – the kind of conversation that made her yearn for anything else, even her own husband's presence. She knew why Suni Neroon had left her husband, and it didn't have anything to do with another man, but what that other man had represented: freedom. But it had been an empty dream; here in the new Empire, there was no escape.

Her fears, her trepidation, melted away. For the first time since agreeing to help the Rebellion, that lingering sense of guilt dissolved, and reluctant acceptance gave way to burning determination.

"So," she said, setting down the comb and turning to face him. "What happened on this trip?"

To her delight, he shook his head and, with an irritated breath, began to relate the happenings of the most recent meeting. It didn't seem like much that would be useful to Vrindo, or to whomever he reported things to, but she filed everything away in memory. There was no way to know, for certain, which bits and pieces could help.

"There's another higher-level meeting in two days, but I should be back before the Admiral's function."

Natrie didn't have to feign pleasure at that news. "Oh, good, I've actually been looking forward to that one."

He smiled at her fondly, and she had to grit her teeth when the look reminded her all too much of how a man might look at a favored pet. "I thought you might. The Admiral's wife insisted that there be dancing, I believe."

"I heard. That's why I'm extra glad that you'll be back in time." Tilting her head, Natrie asked, "Why do you think the Commander is calling another session, so soon after this one? Do you think he's just overly cautious right now?"

"He's always overly cautious. Even by my standards," her husband replied, warming to the subject. "If I were in his shoes, I would…"

Natrie nodded and smiled and frowned at the appropriate moments, and made use of her mask, and her memory.

--

It had been a long time since there had been a function that included more than just standing about, drinking and pretending to care what the other person said. The last had, in fact, been a few years prior, and so Natrie was looking forward to the event - particularly since it was being hosted at the Admiral's home. She had even sought out Sera's assistance in finding a dress, which had been the perfect opportunity to pass on the tidbits she'd learned from her husband after his first trip. To her disappointment, Vrindo wasn't present, but Sera took the small datapad and promised to deliver it to him when he next visited.

On the afternoon of the event, Natrie sat in her bedroom, watching as Mierie tried on the dress Sera had helped her choose. She was just a few fingers shorter than Natrie, now, and as she spun she smiled in pure feminine delight when the silvery fabric swirled heavily around her ankles. Just months ago, it likely wouldn't have even exposed her daughter's feet. Natrie bit her lip as she gazed at Mierie, struck by how old she looked. When had it happened? With a sick feeling in her stomach, she remembered Trienne's comments at the last function.

And Vrindo's.

The tone from the door interrupted her uncomfortable thoughts, and she was able to laugh when Mierie took off running. "Be careful in that dress, Mierie!" She followed, though a bit slower, and stopped in the entryway to the front room to watch her daughter and husband greet each other.

If only this were really him, and there was no other face he showed, she mused, watching him drop his bag and gather their daughter in his arms. That man, I could love.

"You look beautiful in that dress, sweetheart."

"Thank you," Mierie said, kissing his cheek. "I've got to get out of it now, though, so Mom can wear it."

"That's a good idea."

Her husband smiled as his daughter left the room, her step decidedly more cheerful than it had been the past few days. "She's so happy that you're home," Natrie murmured.

"So am I," he said, and his tone sounded so odd that she frowned.

"What's wrong? How was your trip?"

"Later. Let's just enjoy the function this evening."

She nodded and walked up to him, sliding her arms around him. If something from the meeting was still bothering him this much, she wanted to be certain to hear all about it later.

Natrie didn't have to feign a smile that evening as they entered the elegant ballroom; she'd always enjoyed dancing, and her training in the theater when she was young had included a wide variety of performing arts. Of course, there likely wouldn't be many here that could do more than the basic steps required in polite society. Her husband was an adept dancer, technically correct in all aspects, but something was missing. Heart, perhaps. He danced because it was a path to some goal, not because he wanted to for the sheer joy.

Trienne had invited not only officers, but also some civilians that had ties of one sort or another to the Imperial Navy. It was interesting to watch them, and the officers, and see the differences. The officers were stiff, some of them on edge, and it was obvious that many of them were uncomfortable with the thought of asking upper officers' wives to dance. It was expected, of course, to mingle and trade dance partners, and so after a few dances with her husband, Natrie spun off with Captain Decker, who proved to be a rather good dancer. Remembering that Vrindo had referred to him as a friend, she didn't have to force the smile to her face as he promised to find her again that evening.

Later, after dancing with most of the upper officers, Natrie found herself on the side of the room, drinking from a heavy silver goblet and watching the colorful group on the dance floor.

Vrindo moved quite well, she admitted silently, inspecting the two over the edge of her cup. Trienne did, also, but Natrie only watched her for a few moments before her attention was drawn back to Vrindo. Tall and lean, graceful... just as that thought hit her, he missed a step, and she watched as they both laughed. A wide smile lit his face and he lowered Trienne in an extravagant dip, his lack of self-consciousness a delight to behold. Not technically correct, to be sure, but he had heart, and charm, and he moved with a fluidity that mesmerized… and the hand not holding her goblet clenched tight in the fabric of her layered skirt.

She was a fool. She told herself that again and again; her mind knew it, her reason knew it. If only she get could the rest of herself to listen.

Trienne was slightly breathless, but smiling, when she returned. "No one's claimed you yet? I was sure when we came back you'd be off, dancing with dozens more of them."

Natrie laughed. "You were right when you said they'd fear me. It seems the husbands do, too." She grinned. "Well, the under officers, at least. And I've already danced with most of the others, I think." She could see, from the corner of her eye, her own husband dancing with a delighted-looking Sera. The woman's ambition was almost mind-blowing, though Sera wished her husband to move ahead in order to better assist the Rebellion rather than for more credits and social standing. The purpose behind the ambition didn't make her any less ruthless or determined, however.

"But you haven't danced with Vrindo, yet!" Trienne grinned. Vrindo shook his head.

"Trienne, you are ever stealing my thunder." He glanced over to the side and, spotting the Admiral headed their way, leaned down and whispered, "Your husband is coming – you'd better pay him some attention or he'll suspect us."

"My greatest wish is that, one day, my life will be as exciting as people's suspicions make it out to be!" Trienne winked at him and then waved to them both as she went to meet her husband. Natrie smiled, taking another sip of her drink as she watched the rest of the dancers open up to accommodate the Admiral and his wife. They were quite a handsome couple, and obviously adored each other. She was happy for her friend, but the envy burned.

Vrindo's voice caught her attention. "She's right, you know. If you weren't so recognizable as Trienne's friend, and therefore rather unpopular among the lower wives, you would have men lined at your feet."

"You can stop with the flattery, Vrindo," she said, holding back a smile. His face was pointed away from her, watching Trienne and the Admiral on the dance floor. "I've joined, you know."

He turned to look at her, a slow smile spreading over his face. "I know."

She'd always thought the term just the fanciful construct of a delusional mind, but when he said those words, when he looked at her so steadily, she felt the air leave her and she had to consciously instruct her body to start breathing again.

"A dance? Trienne did mention it, after all, though I'll admit she simply rushed what I'd planned to be a charmingly persuasive request."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "You know I'd love to, whether or not Trienne twisted your arm to ask. I love dancing, and there are far too few occasions which allow it."

"Hmm." He stepped towards her and offered his arm. As he led her out onto the floor, he looked down at her. "We seem to have something in common, at least partly. I love dancing with beautiful women, and there are far, far too few occasions to do it."

He smiled again and took her hand in a firm, warm grip, his eyes intent on hers. She swallowed and stared up at him, and she was once again a young woman, courted by a handsome, dashing man, the world and all its possibilities spread out before her. But this time the man didn't wear a suit of gray, and didn't hold steady to the lies of a murderer.