The Imperial Palace, Bastion
The sounds of music and revelry cascaded out from the audience hall, spilling into adjacent rooms and corridors until there was no sliver of the palace left unadorned with the muffled dirge of celebration. Every door to the audience hall was flung wide open, guarded by a pair of crimson-clad sentinels who stood still and stoic as statues unless provoked. Servants adorned with glimmering gold and silver moved through the throngs like ghosts, trays of refreshments; the most tantalizing fruits, bursting with flavor, seared meat that fell right off the bone, and full goblets of the sweetest wines imported from all over the galaxy; held high above their heads with impeccable balance.
A raised platform near the center of the chamber was the epicenter of attention as musicians from distant Panatha clutching instruments both familiar and foreign played a rousing dissonant tune in their native tongue. A single dancer, clad in shimmering samite, danced in synchronization with the beat. Transparent silk clung to her curves, a thin sheet of sweet glistening over her caramel skin as she shook and twirled around and around, every eye fixated on her every move.
At the other end of the chamber was another raised platform, this one mightier than the other. At its apex sat a throne fashioned from blackest stone and iron. Perched upon it was the Sith Emperor himself, black and crimson robes hanging from his massive bulk as he watched the revelry with impassivity, his dark baleful eyes sweeping over the congregation. Both Sith and Imperials were in attendance, Lord and Ladies of the Brotherhood, Generals, Admirals, and the grandest of the military nobility that the Empire had to offer. Knights and their apprentices were also in attendance, indulging in the hospitality of their Emperor like everyone else.
All united in jovial mirth for the grandeur and glory of the Empire.