Faction Coruscanti Nights

[Bastard]

// Nephilim //
// Jedi Temple // Coruscant //
// An Evening Out //
// Bernard //

​

Pushing through the crowd, Errant found himself falling behind as Spencer and her mystery companion weaved through the crowds. It appeared as if the moment after they passed through one small break in the sea of bodies, the brief hole collapsed inward, stonewalling the Imperial Knight's immediate passage. Careful as not to directly irritate anyone, the young Echani went wide on more than one occasion, losing more ground than he gained up until his mother disappeared entirely. He stopped and turned a full circle, practically spinning on his heel as he tried to spot her through the massive gathering. Finding no luck in his endeavor, Errant closed his eyes and focused on the bond held between him and his mother. To some, so many people packed into a single room, no matter the size, may have caused a sense of dissonance. The Echani couldn't be bothered to care about the noise, having grown used to it many years ago.

"You know, mother, if we weren't at this ridiculous gala, I'd of found you and your escort by now," Errant huffed, arms crossed over his chest with a slight pout poking through. His only reprieve found in finally locating the ethereal string connecting the young man to his mother. "There you are," he muttered, setting out to push his way towards the former Queen. The Supreme Sunguard's sudden appearance caught Errant's attention momentarily, slowing the young man's pace and stealing his attention away from the task at hand. He sized up the legendary Thyrsian warrior, not disappointed in the slightest. The many stories Errant heard proved correct, at least at face value. "Interesting... I hadn't expected Khonsu Amon to appear at a gala in honor of the Jedi. How very interesting indeed," the Imperial Knight tore his attention from the gleaming giant. He stepped around one group, danced through another, and spun about a third as he made his way slowly but surely towards the stationary duo he sought.

"You have entered the Temple of the Jedi. As one of its protectors, I would know your purpose for coming to these halls of peace."

An Arkanian's sudden appearance, coupled with his choice of wording, sent Errant on the back foot almost immediately. The former Prince looked up at the taller man, his thin brow turned up in question. Errant looked him up and down once, spotting the lightsaber hilt hanging from his side. A sigh escaped the Imperial almost immediately. Why did these things have to happen? Out of the blue, no less! The Echani peered around them, his golden gaze taking in each
face as it turned to watch the brief exchange.

"Well, this is embarrassing," Errant admitted out loud, his neck rolling from right to left, his head lazily falling in place, eyes locked on Bernard's. "You wouldn't be surprised to know I've come to your lovely temple to celebrate your Order," he began, leaning right to peer past the Arkanian, hoping to catch a glimpse of either his mother or her guest. "My name is Errant Varanin. I am an Imperial Knight in service to the New Imperial Order, a welcomed guest to this event, I believe. I once held the title of Crowned Prince upon Eshan, though, times change and I've been left to rot, it seems," Errant bit down on his cheek, a hint of discomfort shooting through him as self-deprecating truth peeked through his icy exterior. "You needn't fear any semblance of danger from me, Jedi. It is foolish to cause a scene here, especially tonight, given the wide variety of guests, hm?"

Errant shifted to Bernard's side, expertly turning on the ball of his foot as if executing a practiced dance move. He looped an arm around the crook of Bernard's elbow. Without slowing, the Imperial guided his newfound host around in a circle to face the direction he'd initially been walking.

"So," Errant no longer bothered a careful approach to the many denizens of the temple, choosing to just walk forward and watch the sea of flesh and cloth part around him. "What's got you all worked up, Jedi? You seem a tad tense for an evening such as this. Not a fan of crowds, I'd guess."

 

[Lucien Dooku]

// Coruscant // Galactic City // Jedi Temple //
// Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt // Darth Avernus //
MOJO SO DOPE~​

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"Boisterous? Hm, Perhaps. I'd like to think of myself as straight-forwards as much as I can be, but I guess it all depends on the perspective eh?" Luc replied with that mischevious grin, contrasted a lack of smugness that accompanied words that otherwise could definitely be misconstrued as boisterous, in a sense.

He was humble enough, in his opinion, but maintaining confidence in his abilities was a way for him to navigate the lonely world that encompassed his life up until he acquired his first set of friends and allies who weren't out to gun him down for an increase in their paycheck post-mission. His advent into the NIO didn't change his perspective in that area all that much, as the distinction between himself and the Imperials that formed its majority would only serve to isolate him from most of the Imperials outside of the unit that fell under his command.

The veterans beneath his command had taken in the rookie Jedi commander and seen him fight tooth-and-nail by their side, no matter the odds, and no matter the risk to his own personal safety. The leather jacket-wearing spacer had risen to the position of Warlord by the culmination of the Order's first victory over the Empire, an accomplishment brought about as a result of his own diligence as far as he was concerned. It didn't stop his fellow Imperials from disdaining the Serennoan Prince, who in many of their eyes, failed to embody the same Imperial values that was ingrained into themselves. It all boiled down to envy, the same sort of envy which had always been the bane of the Imperial cause no matter their current label, in his opinion. They were free to envy him from afar, as he kept himself around those with an open-mind instead of trying to fit himself into that terrible mold.

Spurned on by amusement at hearing himself grouped up with the Jedi who they were there to "support", Luc cut in once she had finished speaking. "I suppose I am a force user, but that's not much of a rarity these days~ In league with these Jedi, though?" He shook his head. "Can't say that I am. I'm occasionally somethin' of a Jedi, but not one of these Jedi." He believed in getting shit done, to put it bluntly. There wasn't any time to take psuedo-religious dogma into consideration when the solution boiled down to actions over words, whilst not letting your enemy influence you into believing their brand of indoctrinating trash. The failure of the Jedi to have extinguished the Sith eons past had set the precedent for letting them run amok in the galaxy in the present. The same cycle of war followed by peace had come full circle hundreds of time by now, and still the same two sides of a coin were posturing to start the process anew once more.

"The Jedi here would probably deem me a rogue, if we're putting labels to things. I personally don't believe in labels, but unfortunately it's just one of those things about sentience that we just can't escape." Luc shrugged, offering up a smile in any case to keep a good enough vibe around his pleasant company. "I'm just a guy with a dream, and the willingness to make it happen. My former master use to remind me of somethin' that kept me positive, and free from the bullshit of these force cultists and their values." A sip of champagne created an interlude between his words, brows temporarily scrunching together as he reached across to a passing waiter and sat the glass onto the tray. "There are worse fates than being forced into a place where your choice of acts are limited to those where your soul burns brightest."

Luc retrieved a second glass, this one filled with ice and a dark-colored liquid that appeared stronger than the champagne being floated around the room. A quick taste confirmed that theory, and a look of delight spread momentarily across his face, although his eyes were keenly trained on the woman next to him. He listened intently as she teased him over his referring to her as Lady, and explained a bit more as to her reasoning behind being at the Gala that night. "To believe that our illustrious Order has the gall to force the Lyra Voi'kryt, the number one Legion Commander of the military, into playing bodyguard for some old-timer VP. Tsk, tsk, now that's what i'd call a waste of precious manpower."

Raising his glass up to meet hers half-way, Luc tapped his glass onto hers before he continued on from where he left off. "If it was me who had the honor of seeing you in service of my protection, the last thing i'd do is leave you hangin' in the corner to go mingle with some high-society blowhards, but that's just me. In any case, cheers to the free food and drinks, and to great company so far~"

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Return //:
//: Jedi Temple //:
Ryv Athena D-13 ​

It seemed before she could make her way back towards her friend and Ryv, something decided to interfere. The Corellian, who was already not in the best of moods, had her path blocked by an Echani woman she had never seen before. It was a rare sight, Allyson’s job made her know more people that she wanted to know and know more than what she wanted to know about them. This woman was someone new. An eyebrow raised as the woman stood nearby, the same lifeform feeling that the Force gave off wasn’t there. Instead, Allyson heard the dull hum of the electromagnetic wave that surrounded technology and machines. ​

It was a curious thing; droids weren’t the type to randomly pick out people from a crowd, to act as a sentient, and if they did, she had never met them before. Her mind quickly shifted, becoming defensive as she took a step back from the woman. “Oh, yeah, with so many people, it gets a little warm.” Allyson kept the distance between them, so she could make time to scan the woman with Mechu Deru. ​

Before she did, the bond she shared with Ryv burned with emotion. She felt his frustration and anger for what was going on between them. It was a small distraction, and she wanted to get back to him, feeling his anger grow more and more. They were supposed to have a beautiful evening, yet it seemed her frustrations got the best of her. Groaning slightly, Allyson found her focus again and picked up a few things about the droid. ​

Tilting her head, she raised an eyebrow and stared hard at the droid. Suspicions arose, and Allyson took a few steps back and began to head back towards the party. “Um, yeah. Some people are waiting for me, but I didn’t catch your name, and who did you come with?” ​

 

[Athena D-13]

Your name? Although it would be only less than a fraction of a second, in her own mind This Unit froze thinking on the subject. It had no name, not even a designation. Only a class name. Yet organics had names, real names, and she had prepared for this eventuality at least. Echani naming conventions, like many humanoids often seemed to possess the strange practice of taking the names of previously important figures in their history. So, upon taking an Echani form she fabricated a name based on this practice.

"Brianna Marh, named for the companion who assisted the Jedi Exile Meetra Surik to restore the Order many thousands of years ago. I thought it would be prudent to live up to that namesake with an independent donation tonight. I apologize for keeping you waiting, I didn't come with anyone else and find myself... a bit lost, is all. My programming-" The droid gasped, feigning a slip-up, before quickly continuing with a more exasperated tone. "-My-my prerogative here was to represent my cybernetics company to offer my services to Jedi with lost parts. I'm sorry, I keep talking, I shouldn't bother you." The droid began to walk back out to the fresh air, hoping between her cover and her "hidden" revelation the Jedi's unease would turn into pity. A target that was uneasy was difficult to capture, but one that was in a different emotional state may leave an opportunity to capitalize upon it.

Or at least, that is what her Manufacturer's Protocols seemed to indicate... She would see for herself very soon if they were up to the task against Allyson Locke .

Nonetheless, her data would ping inside of Vallaro Kindall 's cybernetics that a target was close by.

 

[Aston Jacobs]

Coruscant
Jedi Temple

The closer he got two the duo, the more he had severely underestimated how nervous he would be when he reunited with Spencer Varanin

It had been many years since he last saw her, while he braced for anything, wondering if they would greet as family or greet another as strangers. Aston showed a small smile as he had approached them and then his gaze settled on Vaulkhar briefly.

Someone new indeed, he had never met before. He wondered what the story was there, no doubt he would find out soon, if not in the later days or weeks to come.

Aston was now within a few feet of the duo as he came to a stop and he cleared his throat. "Hey sis." Aston started and then he chuckled nervously. "You look beautiful tonight." Aston took a deep breath and he leaned in and gave her a big hug. "I've missed you."

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Coruscant // Galactic City // Jedi Temple
Great Hall
Fox On The Run
Focus // Lucien Dooku

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“Right..perspective,” Lyra echoed lightly, she could sling a multitude of things at him; he'd have an answer she bet. As the conversation divided on the forces of good, Lyra shifted, running a hand down her skirts to smooth them out; a distracting gesture for herself.. She hadn’t hit a nerve with the inquiry but he seemed passionate and Lyra offered him a mirroring smile as he shrugged.

“You are right about that-” Lyra muttered, genuinely curious enough to press..we sat on the tip of her tongue but she caught herself before she cleared her throat, “they seem a credit to a dozen these days. Though I will admit your philosophy is above my head to a degree, I think I understand the sentiment...Perhaps you can give me an honest assessment of our allies then? Do you think the Jedi here are warranted? I look for effectiveness, but do you think they will fall on their own morale before the war is won?”

She could listen to staunches assessment from a fellow Officer but Lucien was a unique asset; that much could not be written off. Lyra idly swirled her glass after she had posed the question, casting a glance over the crowd. The question seemed to be a touch too serious, it was difficult for her not to mix business even amongst the throes of revelry. Still idly looking past the pomp, she could make out some familiar markers of other members of the Order. Irveric Tavlar had not attended and her eyes narrowed a fraction, attention divided between personal sentiment and her company. When a moment presented itself she added in,

“I won’t lop you in with them at least, even if it’s our nature to compartmentalize-most soldiers look at force users and there are only two categories. The enemy or intolerable pricks, a little to black and white forgive me,” the woman spoke up a tell tale chuckle on the tail end of her words; amused at her own irony. Minding her tone less the stray ear takes offense, like she wasn’t actually lopped in amongst the schism.

“You’ve carved out your own path between the two obvious players of the galaxy, I find it to be an odd notion.. or at least you see beyond our lovely host’s ideals. Duality doesn’t seem like the right word, it seems limiting and I shouldn’t compare you to the Imperial Knights correct? Is your ambition or would it be resolve?-greater than either pull I wonder, such fluidity, how do you manage it?..or is that rude to ask? I’ve heard that it is a drastic thing, first hand accounts and if history provides any solid example to an internal battle?”

Lyra watched him carefully, even as the warmth of the hall enveloped her..Her words were pressing and sharp even-but she wasn’t going to pretend to be happy even if she was on her way to blissful inebriation. She hadn’t considered the notion of fluidity and it was a far away epiphany. Toying with her glass. Lyra had enough guilt but part of herself reasoned she ought to apologize for all her curiosity- it was intrusive. Though Lyra had seldom found interaction worthwhile outside the rank. The opportunity to even attempt it hadn’t quite presented itself either, it was a difficult pass. Extrapolating on the simple question of Jedi, and here she was pushing for a debate..

“Force aside, what capacity do you serve in the Order now? You can’t be a non-aligned mercenary any more..” Lyra added in, trying to steer away from her accidental directness as he continued his antics. She raised a brow, his good nature was growing infectious. She hummed briefly before outright rolling her eyes as he pressed on with his attention. Her face outright burned, and she turned her body away after their little toast. Raising a hand to shield her eyes-torn between her amusement and the fresh aggravation of the contacts. “You have no shame honestly....and to be fair it was hardly an assignment by the Order. I am just a soldier though please don’t misconstrue anything..I suppose but between you and I..I agreed to get him to shut up. I am not bound by duty at least, that would be immensely more embarrassing, it’s silly I know..but anyway. I agree, cheers to good company..”

The woman caught herself actually fidgeting and she swiped her fingers under her eyes, trying to ignore the bantha in the room. Glancing down at her hand, she cursed under her breath finding some black kohl smudged. It wasn’t bad but the stylist had been particular. Well it had been bound to happen she acquiesced. Lyra weighed her glass in hand-tipping back and downing the rest of its contents. Her nerves were grated, and Lyra exhaled glancing back to Lucien; steeling herself. Maker be damned.

“You know...because of technicalities I might leave...If it is the last thing you would do, leaving the likes of myself well alone. That implies there is a list actually..and I am taking suggestions if you have any ideas..theoretically speaking..”

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

L O C A T I O N | The ball.
T A G S | Leon Amun ​

Slowly she turned her head towards the male that spoke to her, almost as if the very act of turning her head was tiring to her. But the worst was the way her eyes focused on the male in front of her, her two violet eyes, sharper than any blade in that planet and filled with her arrogance and majesty for she was at the top of the pyramid in that little ball, her last name ensured that and in her veins ran the old blood of the elzeri. And despite his cocky ways for what smelled like a bastard human son from some noble alien species, the male was right, she deserved better company than those two speaking about treaties or whatever a Thyrsian and the Knight-Commander could have a talking subject. Even if he had a dreadful alias like ‘Murderhawke’ alongside his name.​

“I do believe you may have a valid point, sir, on more than one thing… “, she turned her gaze upon the two males in front of her and nodded towards them, a harsh, small thing done by her head. “Do excuse us.”, her lips said as she left with the mandalorian towards the gala.​

Silently she walked away from them with Leon, her face was taken by a dull expression of slack as her eyes rolled over the gala wondering what was this feeling as if something wrong was about to happen. Her people called that ‘divination’, like a sixth sense that allowed them to see far beyond the common shackles of flesh that bound them, this force users called it ‘Precognition’ but she cared not about semantics like those nor did she cared if anything terrible happened, it was the Jedi’s problem and not hers, the only thing she cared about in that party was drinking, eating and meeting people.​

“I’m Lunafreya Solidor, Duchess of JanFathal.”, it was the first time she introduced herself without using the word ‘princess’, she was princess of Kaikielius by right but now? She had a planet of her own under command and a fancy young title. “I’m here with the rest of those dull imperials and you? I doubt a man such as yourself would receive a direct invitation from the Alliance, no, lacks breed and titles for that.”​

Her head turned towards him as her eyes began to analyze the man in front of her, noticing every single little detail while her index finger tapped on the glass she held gently between her fingers. The scent of her own aroma filling up her nostrils and spreading all over the room like a sweet cinnamon cloud of danger, it was one of the best mixtures done in Zeltros especially for her, for she had a soft spot for all things from Zeltros, except dresses, she hated the way those aliens dressed, like they worked on alleys in exchange for some credits. ​

“Jedi? No, not a Jedi, too much dirt on your shoes for that... although I can sense something. Where are you from? Leon, is it not?” She did felt something, but that was almost gone, like a fainted aroma left on a empty bottle, just enough to make Lunafreya curious about it and to awaken that pioneering sense that she had from time to time, like a spoiled girl who needed to know what it was when she wanted.​