I know no one is reading this fic, but here's another chapter no one asked for! And for all those waiting for an update on Hell Hath No Fury, I'm really sorry! I promise I haven't forgotten about that story, I just hit a bit of a wall because of all the shit that's gone down in the last few Marvel flicks. Please be patient with me. I've started the next chapter and will update soon.


3 months. 3 months had come and gone and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Lady Kilvaari. It was intolerable. The director of advanced weapons research sat as his desk, drumming his gloved fingers irritably against the metal surface as he stared out over the bustling Coruscanti city scape. He had delayed his return to his "project" for weeks now hoping he would run into her at some sort of diplomatic function or imperial briefing. It wasn't until the previous day that he discovered that she had returned to her home world the day after he made her acquaintance and would remain there for the foreseeable future. He was becoming a bit obsessed...perhaps more than a bit obsessed. But how was a man successfully supposed to perform a seduction if his pray was light years away. He had briefly considered traveling to Kuat himself, but thought he might do more harm than good with his overzealous pursuit of her. Krennic clenched his hands into fists as he spun in his chair to press the button to his inter office comm.
"Varis! Get in here!" He ordered in a clipped tone. A moment later, a frazzled young man in a pristine grey uniform rushed through the door of his office and towards his desk, nearly tripping over his feet in his eagerness.
"Sir." He stood at attention in front of Krennic's desk and clicked his booted heels together rather unnecessarily.
"Kriff, Varis. At ease." Ensign Varis immediately widened his stance and clasped his hands behind his back in one hurried movement.
"Sir." He repeated. Now, Krennic liked obsequiousness in his inferiors as much as the next officer, but Varis took it to a whole new level.
"Varis, I need you to get me out of that command meeting later today. I'm not in the mood for it." He waved his hand dismissively.
"But, sir, Grand Moff Tarkin is leading the meeting. Your presence is not only expected, but required." His aide stuttered.
"Blast it." Krennic muttered darkly as he leaned back in his chair, a gloved hand moving to rest in a fist beneath his chin. "Very well. But I will arrive 10 minutes late. I do so love to interrupt Tarkin when he's grandstanding."
"Do-do you think that's wise, sir?" His aide questioned. Krennic rewarded his question with a venomous glare. "I'll fetch your cape, director." He mumbled before backing out of the room, tail between his jodhpur clad legs.


Krennic arrived at the aforementioned meeting precisely 10 minutes late.
"I apologize for my tardiness." He stated offhandedly as he strode into the room. Everyone at the large rectangular table rose to their feet, except for Grand Moff Tarkin, whose rambling introduction Krennic had no doubt interrupted.
"Director Krennic." Tarkin drawled as he leaned back in his chair at the head of the table. "Good of you to join us."
"Governor Tarkin." Krennic nodded as he moved to take his seat at the other head of the table. "Apologies for interrupting what I'm sure was a riveting oratory." He grinned wolfishly as he arranged his cape before sitting. "Please, gentlemen, take your seats." He nonchalantly waved his gloved hand. The other officers had no sooner taken their seats when the doors hissed open once more and none other than Elara Kilvaari strode into the room. Krennic's eyes drank her in from the jet beads braided into her dark hair to the floor length burgundy velvet robes she was wearing. So entranced was he, that it took him a full 30 seconds to realize that all the other officers, including Tarkin, had risen to their feet while he remained seated. He quickly jolted to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"So sorry I'm late, gentlemen." She stated smoothly as she moved towards the empty chair next to Tarkin. "My journey from Kuat was regrettably delayed. Rebels." She rolled her eyes and waved her hand airily. "They are something of an inconvenience, are they not?"
"They are a bit more than that, my lady." Colonel Yularen stated tersely from across the table, mustache bristling.
"But nothing we can't handle, dear lady." Tarkin drawled as he pulled her chair back and waited for her to be seated before taking his own seat. The rest of the officers followed suit, including Krennic, albeit a bit more slowly. There was a momentary silence as everyone settled in and Krennic took the opportunity to address her directly.
"Lady Kilvaari. I did not know that you would be joining us." Her gaze moved to him, but there was no recognition in it. She just smiled at him politely for a moment before opening he mouth to speak, but it was not her voice that answered his question.
"This meeting regards the opening of the shipyards on Lothal and seeing as Lady Kilvaari is the spokesperson for the largest shipyard in the galaxy, her expertise was obviously required." Tarkin stated. "Something you would have been aware of had you read the briefing, which you obviously neglected to do." Krennic glared at the man across the table from him for a moment before turning his attention to the far lovelier creature to the Governor's right.
"When did you return from Kuat, my lady?" He queried.
"Just now, actually, at the Governor's personal request." She answered as she placed a silk clad hand on Tarkin's forearm in an extremely friendly manner. "Forgive me, sir, but have we met before?"
Krennic paled. She didn't even remember him. He'd spent the better part of 3 months pining after the creature and yet she had no recollection of ever having met him. He clenched his teeth before grinding out a response.
"Why yes, My Lady." Krennic stated, in what he hoped was a casual drawl. "I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at the last ball in the Senate Rotunda. Three months past."
"Well it seems as if you failed to make a lasting impression, Krennic." Tarkin drawled, voice dripping with sadistic glee. "A rare feat, seeing that that ridiculous cape of yours is rather unforgettable." There were a few muffled laughs from around the table.
Krennic seethed.
"Ah, Director Krennic. Of course." Elara's sultry voice broke through the din of thinly disguised snorts. "Apologies. I was not fully myself that night." She removed her hand from Tarkin's arm and placed it over her heart before tilting her head slightly forward in contrition. "What a pleasure it is to see you again."
"The pleasure, dear Lady, is entirely mine." Krennic purred, his eyes boring into her from across the table. The others at the table looked on in silent fascination until Tarkin activated the holoprojector in the center of the table and rose to his feet.
"Now to the business at hand…"
As Tarkin droned on about logistics and quotas, Krennic's eyes never once left the figure at the opposite end of the table. Although she appeared to be paying strict attention to the the Grand Moff, he could have cared less about what was being said. Instead he was thinking there was nothing in the Galaxy he wanted more than to take her right there on the conference table, burgundy robes rucked up her milky thighs and completely at his mercy as the rest of the officers looked on, seething with jealousy. Krennic surreptitiously adjusted his rapidly hardening length, grateful for the cover the conference table provided. He needed to come up with an excuse to get the vexing women alone.
And fast.


Elara could feel his eyes boring into her for the duration of the meeting, making her skin crawl. Dirty old Hutt. These Imperial toffs were all alike. Greedy and self-serving. No never really meant no to them. Krennic had set his sights on her and Elara would be forced to grin and bare it in order to keep up the charade. Maker, she was tired of all the subterfuge. She would take a dog-fight against a TIE fighter any day over the tedious maneuverings of the Imperial war machine. Having to preen for Tarkin was bad enough. Now she had Director bloody Krennic to contend with.
Unless…
Elara's lips curved into a small grin.
Unless she turned this nerf-terd of a situation to her advantage.
Krennic was the brains of the Empire's Secret Weapons Division and therefore had some serious intel hidden beneath that silver-brown hair of his. He was obviously interested in her. Maybe she should give his infatuation a bit of a…push, as it were. She could wrap him around her little finger and have him singing Imperial secrets by Empire Day, if she played her sabacc cards right.
She leaned back in her chair and let out a small sigh of resignation.
The things she did for the Rebellion.


By the time the meeting finally adjourned forty-five minutes later, Krennic was close to bounding across the table and making his perverse daydream a reality. But thankfully, Moff Tarkin called the meeting to a close before he did something drastic. As the assembled officers rose to their feet and began filing to the door, Krennic was surprised to see Lady Kilvaari rounding the table towards him. She was stopped briefly by Tarkin, but after the Governor bestowed a swift kiss to the back of her gloved hand, she took her leave and sauntered the rest of the way to where he was standing.
"Director." His title sounding like a seductive plea on her lips. "I wanted to apologize for my earlier lapse in recognition. These past months have been riddled with stress, to say the least." She ran her hand lightly down his bicep to rest on his forearm.
"No apology needed, my lady." Krennic stated warmly, a rare smile lighting his face. "And please, call me Orson."
"Well then you must call me Elara." She quirked a brow.
"If you insist," he conceded, "Elara."
"Oh, I very much do," She shot back, "Orson." His eyes darkened at the sound of his name on her crimson lips. "Well, now that we're very good friends, might I be so bold as to invite you to my offices in the Senate building? I wish very much to discuss," she paused conspicuously, "weapons distribution with you. Your insight at today's meeting was stirring, to say the least." She squeezed his forearm slightly as she took a half step closer to him.
"You flatter, Elara." He drawled her name. "I barely spoke during the meeting."
"All the more reason we should meet in a more personal setting." She insisted. "Maybe then you won't be so—shy."
"I assure you, 'shy' has never been a word used to describe me." He rasped.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning, shall we say ten?"
"To discuss weapons distribution." He repeated with mock seriousness.
"Yes, all about weapons." She stage whispered back, a puckish grin on her face.
"Wild rathtars couldn't keep me away, Elara."
"Good." She nodded. "I'll see you at 1000 hours, soldier." And then she rose and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek. Krennic barely got a whiff of her heady perfume before she was pulling away and walking to the door.
"Until tomorrow," he spoke aloud to the empty room, "Elara."