First Order: A Rose In Her Hand

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi stood in the doorway, her eyebrows furrowing at what she overheard, only entering when beckoned to do so by [member="Darell Irani"] -- the only man in First Order space who could get away with effectively telling Natasi Fortan to be quiet. But that was the way of their relationship -- she didn't interfere with his business prospects, never complained at the long hours or weeks away, and he respected her demanding schedule and didn't attempt to trade upon their relationship for profit. In this, their relationship was ideal, although these moments put some pressure on that relationship. The specter of Eriadu hovered over them like some malevolent spirit. Her dark eyes watched as Irani came to her aid before Alfred and James -- whoever they were -- and softened a little.

He didn't want to be here.

He didn't want to go to a ball.

But here he was, anyway. Despite his preference for privacy, here he was. She smiled broadly as he disconnected and walked into the room, taking his right arm and holding it steady as she folded his cuffs over, then carefully worked the links through the holes. She repeated the process on his other cuff, then walked over to his bed and picked up his tuxedo jacket and helped him on with it, smoothing the wrinkles on his shoulders and tugging it so it lay just so. "Where is your -- ah," she said, breaking off when she spotted the bowtie draped over the back of a nearby chair. She picked it up and walked back over to him, but instead of tying it on, she clutched it in her hands, pulling the fabric taut between her hands at waist-level. "I couldn't help but overhear," she said softly. She remained silent for a few long moments before reaching up to wrap the bowtie around his neck. "I had hoped, by now, that your board would stop hating me so much, but I suppose Eriadu is rather a difficult thing to forget."

As she worked the tie into a knot, Natasi studied the work she was doing with her fingers just below his chin. "I have to ask." She frowned and shook the knot loose, then started again, this time looking up Irani's face, all sincerity and earnestness. "Would your life be better -- easier -- if you weren't so closely associated with the First Order? With... me, I suppose?" Natasi asked. Finally, the tie was knotted correctly. She straightened it, nodding. "There. Now you're perfect."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

He looked on amused as [member="Natasi Fortan"] took the moment to help him be proper.

It was endearing in one way -- a lady who had been scandalized when he suggested she could simply dress herself, instead of hiring on a maid for such business - was now helping him to get neat for the ball itself. In some ways Irani would never truly understand the gallantry and specificities of Galidraan. The Tion Cluster had always been known for its eccentricities, but over the years most of the Tionese had accepted a simple truth.

As long as you had the money, few other things really mattered.

This did not seem to be the case for Galidraan, though.

"Oh, the board absolutely adore you, my dear." Irani mentioned casually, while brushing at an imaginary dust particle on his shoulder. "There were positively charmed with you when we had that dinner last month, remember?"

"James and Alfred are good men, Natasi, that is their greatest asset and biggest flaw in the world of corporate intrigue." Again his hand waved, almost to brush away the issue at hand, before snorting. "No, absolutely not. I am a man who loves to take risks and always stays neutral in the galactic scene of war and worlds."

A shrug followed.

"When the One Sith slaughtered the personnel of the Copero Shipyards they almost begged me to pull out of their territory. Instead I opted to negotiate and now Iron Crown possesses the greatest shipyards within Sith Space." Those blue eyes scrutinized her for a moment, before taking a look at himself in the mirror. An inclination of the head followed -- there was a certain ring of pleasure in his features as he thanked her silently. "There will always be an Eriadu, a Copero, a Taloraan, my dear, but as long as the profit keeps coming in... the complaints will sputter out and be replaced with gratitude."

Gratitude that he convinced them away from their emotional reactions.

 

[Serah Oricion]

Her eyes stared up at the clock in front of her while one hand worked at the blue strap of her dress, smoothing and letting it rest more comfortably before looking down at herself one last time. It was rare for her to be in a dress, rare for her even to have one but these people probably would not enjoy her walking in with her robes or in her more relaxed clothing. Something told her that jeans and a tan working shirt were probably not something these people wanted at their little ball. She missed being on Lothal sometimes and would need to head back to there when she was given the chance... she would need her falsified papers.

Her head shook the thought from her mind, thinking about the moment now as she stood there still looking at that clock at the center of the foyer. Tonight was an opportunity to learn about those others which she would be working with from this moment on, the Knights the only thing she had known for the last year and a half after she had left home to figure out how Nauren was doing. She disliked being away from her family, and still not knowing about her little brother's whereabouts, but she was with the knights now and those thoughts would only distract her.

Tonight was supposed to be about distractions, right? Her eyes fixating on the nearby room where people were gathering into, studying them for a few seconds and noting those who stood stiffly-backed, their military career showing in their stance. Then there were those she could tell enjoyed the finer things like these balls, those who had money to pass around, and those who were disinterested. How they stood whether they slumped or not. The frequency of their eye movements. Granted someone could just as well tell her own feelings and who she was based on how she messed with the strap or stood with no formality to her stance.

She was more interested in taking something apart but that was not the time now.

With a sigh and an internal groan, she started towards the doors and made to look within the room, curious if there was anything within that could occupy her time... specifically the music catching her ear as she smiled. That was one thing she could readily enjoy and her hands started moving in time with the instruments as they moved about and copied a miniature motion of what would be the notes being played. She almost wished she was up there instead of down here with others dressed in this fashion, almost wished she was without a single mind being paid to her. She felt naked without her mask or robes, felt exposed and in a light even if she stuck to the larger collections of people to stay out of that light she disliked.

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

Unlike [member="Marzena Choi"], far less effort and emotion had been placed in Field Marshal Vaas' appearance. His military undercut practically styled itself. Putting on a uniform was an everyday occurrence to him, and his full military dress uniform differed very little from his usual command outfit. There were a few extra medals added around his Field Marshal rank pin, as well as a red-and-black necklace for battlefield bravery around the collar and gold shoulder epaulets, but other than that, it was the same black officer's uniform that Ludolf wore every day.

Marzena, on the other hand, was a different story. The pregnancy was beginning to weigh on her, especially now that she couldn't fit into some of her clothes, which was a striking realization for someone whose line of work made her so devoted to her figure. Ludolf couldn't pretend to understand the hormonal chaos behind Marzena's breakdown; he was a man whose entire life up to this point revolved around martial pursuits, and his relationship with Marzena was as much a learning experience for him as it was a pleasurable one. What started as pure sexual attraction had become a full-fledged familial bond, and the sudden experience of living with a woman had taught him a thing or two about the fairer sex in the past several months. Thus Ludolf knew to say nothing as Marzena cried softly, only to sit beside her on the bed and offer her a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

Finally, when Marzena approached him with a new dress, Ludolf simply smiled as though nothing had occurred at all, and placed his hands around her hips. "You can't tell," He affirmed, and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

As the two traveled together to the hotel, Vaas marveled at the state of Prosperia through the transparisteel window of his transport. It seemed that this city would soon begin to rival Avalonia for its position as the greatest city in First Order space, and it was not the only one. Elegant and beautiful urban dwellings were beginning to pop up all over First Order space.

When the two finally arrived, Ludolf helped Marzena out of the vehicle so that she could place her feet on the carpet before the stairs to the hotel. She would most likely be looking for the bathrooms as soon as they got in, Ludolf surmised; a couple months spent at his pregnant lover's side had taught him a thing or two about what to expect. In the meantime, Ludolf stared wide-eyed at the grandiose appearance of the hotel before him.

"Feel strange?" He said to Marzena over his shoulder and smiled as he held her hand up the stairs. "We met under these exact circumstances."

As they reached the top, Ludolf could hear the music coming from inside. "What is that noise?" He wrinkled his nose disapprovingly. The swing music was most likely not on the Ministry of Culture's list of certified high art. "Ah well, I suppose the troops need to let their hair down sometime," He shrugged.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"I only escaped dinner last month alive because I kept my back to the wall all evening," Natasi corrected him with a wry smirk. "I had the distinct impression that dice were rolling and knives were out." He answered her question, and Natasi suspected it was rubbish. "I don't believe you," she responded with a hint of amusement in her voice. "But it's nice of you to say all the same. I wish you would let me engage a valet for you," Natasi said, swiftly changing the subject as she turned and headed for the main part of the suite, where they would exit and take the turbolift down to the ballroom areas. She allowed her maid to drape a fur stole around her slender shoulders, then turned back towards Irani's room. "Even a double butler-valet would work. I can't tell you how lovely it is to have someone look after you -- to lay out your clothes and make sure they're all pressed and perfect."

Now that she was a Grand Moff, she could afford a full staff -- although, in this case, the ladies maid was really a human replica droid provided by [member="Darth Adekos"], and in addition to performing domestic duties to a tee, could also kill a man in one of eighty-seven pre-programmed methods of murder. There were four HRDs scattered across her staff, both household and office, performing regular functions but prepared to put anyone who threatened their charge into the ground.

She stepped into the turbolift and waited for Irani to come in. Soon they were heading towards the lower floors, her left hand curling over his right forearm. They emerged from the turbolift into the lobby. The First Order State media and select other press -- certainly not anything affiliated with Star Tours -- were admitted to keep an eye on things, to take photos and footage to publish and broadcast to First Order space. It was all part of a show that never stopped. Natasi walked along the lobby with Irani. She promised to return to be photographed later, knowing that Irani had little patience for the ritual, preferred not to be photographed with her. If she didn't know any better, she would suspect she was some kind of dirty little secret. But she took the good with the bad where Irani was concerned. Her fingers squeezed his arm.

"Shall we start with champagne?" asked Natasi as they stepped over the threshold.

[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Viktor DuSang]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M90tA302X3k​

Fashionably late, and fashionably dressed, Earl Viktor Maurow-DuSang entered the Rosamund Hotel with [member="Lady Kay"] on his arm. The pair was fresh off of his yacht, the Decadence, having enjoyed a succulent meal prepared by the Earl's butler; Sebastian Faust. He had gone to Commenor in order to pick up the President. No small task, mind you. Everything had to be perfect, his reputation was staked on it.

Luckily enough, he had a very skilled butler. The crimson eyed man followed shortly behind the pair. Sebastian was dressed in his signature tail coat with white oxford and black slacks. Viktor was dressed in a white suit with black silk shirt with white slacks and black shoes. Yellow eyes moved to the President as he gave her a smooth grin. "Madame President, you are simply radiant." He had complimented her many times since he picked her up, but he felt the urge to simply say it again.

Walking into the ballroom, he found the bar where [member="William Kerkov"] and [member="Avicus DuSang"] were conversing. "The man with the same eyes as me is my father; Fleet Admiral Avicus DuSang. The man he's speaking to is Grand Admiral Kerkov." His eyes danced around the room until they landed on [member="Natasi Fortan"] and [member="Darell Irani"]. "There's the Grand Moff and her fiance." he said, pointing out the couple.

His gaze found [member="Crucifere Sin"] and Viktor nodded in his direction. "I believe you are already well acquainted with Lord Sin." His gaze landed on [member="Ludolf Vaas"] and [member="Marzena Choi"]. "Oh. There's the Field Marshall and Ms. Choi. The Pop Star has done a lot of work with the First Order. The Ministry of Culture is thriving because of her." There were so many more people that resided in the ballroom, but those were the ones that Viktor really knew.

"Can I get you something, Your Grace?"

 

[Samka Derith]

Sam was home. Since becoming an active Knight of Ren she'd travelled across the galaxy to a wide variety of environments and dealt with them as well as she could. But this, this was her scene. Samka was wearing her finest ball gown, blood crimson in colour, it draped down from her right shoulder to barely an inch off the floor while leaving the left shoulder strapless, underneath the dress she still carried her lightsaber strapped to her leg. One could never be too careful plus the blade was her companion. Odd as it might sound to some, the weapon was something very dear to her. When she weilded it, it was an extension of her body and she would feel as though she were missing a limb without it. A single white rose lay nestled among her neatly arranged hair which glistened in the light of the room. To complete her look, Sam wore a domino mask. It wasn't a masked ball but it added an essence of mystery and hid some of the girl's more youthful features. It was also incredible what a small amount of make up can do to make one look older, darkening the lips and elongating eye lashes. Now she could finally show herself off as the dignified young lady she knew herself to be.

Instantly her attention was not on the people but the music. There were a few familiar faces here and there, people she'd met in the past but social interaction would come in a moment. For now she let herself be lost in the rhythm. She glided towards the central ballroom, never taking an eye off the band as they played so she could take in their movements, the flow each individual was giving to their performance. They were all skilled, that was for sure, nothing but the best for the First Order. Their skill made it that much easier for the music to take her over. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm drown out all else. She didn't need any drug to get a 'high', all that was needed was good music. The music chosen was certainly unusual for a ball but that didn't mean it was bad. It was an opportunity to do something a little different. Instinct took over and her body began to move its own.

In this moment there was no one but her here. She moved dynamically. Fast and abrupt but natural. Arms, legs, neck, back, hips: every part of her moving in perfect timing to a track she hadn't even heard before but she didn't need to. Understanding the structure of music just came to her without a thought passing her mind. A twirl, a stretch, a short hop and all too soon the track slowed to a halt, her body slowing with it.

Satisfied for now in fulfilling a desire not too oft quenched, the young Ren turned towards interacting with others. Should she grow tired of frivolous socialisation, she could always return here. To the place where she alone.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay was going to make the best of this ball. She had promised herself that, as well as to [member="Viktor DuSang"] , even though she thought herself as being a horrid dancer. During the couple of weeks that she had to prepare, she practiced dancing when she was alone in her room. It was probably quite the sight, but she was doing her best at being able to move without looking down at her feet. It had been a while since she had stumbled into a dance.

The trip over was lovely, with the Earl being as complimentary as ever. It was his habit, she supposed, or just his way of doing things. Regardless, it was far better than being criticized at every turn. While she was in his presence, she shrunk down her Force signature to that of a small tree nut. Her secret wasn't out in the open yet, and she preferred it that way. [member="Veiere Arenais"] was asked to accompany her, and he did so, though as she couldn't see him directly at this moment, she knew that he was tending to security to be sure that all was well. Kay also extended the invitation to her Minister of Foreign Affairs, [member="Riven Black"] . She had hoped that he would be arriving as well.

"You are too kind, and your suit is very fitting for you. I am surprised that the ladies aren't tripping over their feet to ask you to dance." She smiled as Viktor pointed out certain individuals. Though most were ones that were complete strangers, there were others that she did know. The eye colour of Viktor's father let her know that it might not be Darkness that gave them such a colour, but his bloodline. [member="William Kerkov"] she did know., having met him a few years ago. He had tried to arrest her on Bakura. "I know of the Grand Admiral. We had met before under...unfavourable circumstances." Her eyes followed to the Grand Moff and she bowed her head to the woman and her fiance. [member="Crucifere Sin"] she knew of course, he was her Minister of Defence afterall. It wasn't too surprising that he would be here, given his interest in the First Order. The others she hadn't quite met yet.

Viktor caught her attention when he asked her if she needed anything. "A glass of punch or water would be fine. I am not much of a drinker, I'm afraid. My drink of choice is Sapir tea, but it has not yet come to that time of the evening for that just yet."

As her eyes once again roamed across the room, they fell upon her brother, [member="Kyle Amedis"] . She didn't expect to see him here. It wasn't too long ago that she had seen him, even though it felt like a lifetime. Kay bowed her head to him, not entirely sure if he wanted it to be known that they shared the same parents, though they were raised all of this time apart and without any knowledge of eachother's existence. She hadn't seen him, hadn't heard from him in all that time. Hopefully he wouldn't pretend that she didn't exist like their father [member="Tobias Larr"] .

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Earlier

Roderik von Brinkerhoff would hardly describe his activities 'distracted speedering' , as he operated his air-speeder hovercraft with his right hand on the yoke and his left hand tapping away rapidly at a datapad planted firmly on his thigh. The message was to all the members of the Starfighter Corps' 100th Fighter Squadron who had been pre-selected and authorized leave to attend this particular military ball. [ [member="Nils Brenner"], [member="Pierce Fortan III"], [member="Greta Kohler"], [member="Daxin Novari"] ]

The message read in part, 'Assemble at the Rosamund Hotel, do not enter the event without being properly inspected!' They knew the drill already, he was sure of it by now. The unit would enter together before dispersing, but only after a careful inspection of their dress uniforms. They would not ill represent the Starfighter Corps, his squadron, or the Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"] whose name they flew for. Not on his watch.

He did all of this, while still at the same time carrying on a conversation with [member="Sioux Chambers"], whom the starfighter captain was delighted had agreed to accompany him to the First Order's military ball.

But he was a seasoned, veteran starfighter pilot and commander. Multitasking in literal life and death situations was his bread and butter. He didn't think anything abnormal about this scenario at all, in fact, he was probably performing the duties of air-speedering far above the riff raff in traffic around him, for all he knew and thought.

"It won't take very long at all. Or I hope to the stars it doesn't take very long at all." He spoke, regarding the inspection he had sent his final warning message about. The 100th were made up of a higher caliber type, the ones who wouldn't come to an event like this looking like a freelance intergalactic trash hauler.

"You were very kind to agree about coming so early." Sioux was accommodating of his need to at least partially chaperone his pilots and crew. He regarded it as a courtesy to his ultimately professional nature, and dedication to his career. She was likewise a decidedly ambitious, professional individual.

Their conversation was interrupted by an incoming communique from the air traffic controller, directing him onto his final approach for landing nearby the Rosamund Hotel, in Prosperia. Roderik's attention shifted fully to landing.



Now


Having successfully landed and disembarked the air-speeder, Roderik and Sioux made their way to the interior of the hotel. The captain kept an eye out for any other members of his squadron as they walked, but could not spot any. Hopefully none had entered already, but what was the worst that could happen?

"Sounds lively already." He remarked as they neared the ballroom proper. Roderik turned back towards the way they came, picking this spot as his last stand for assembling his pilots.

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

The Rosamund Hotel, Inveraray Ballroom
Prosperia, Dosuun

Valessia watched as the hotel manager departed, she was standing up by the stairs, looking down toward the Highclere Ballroom where the prizes for the raffle were being stored, and where the after-ball benefit concert was being set up. It was a last minute idea so she was uneasy about all the preparations for it. She wasn't even sure they'd be able to secure an act for it, but thankfully they managed to land an up and coming pop star who could use some backing. Val was deep in thought when she heard the familiar accented basic, "mhmm?" She turned her body into Sumiko's feeling comforted by the Atrisian's presence.

The Scion of House Brentioch didn't get to reply to her lover before she was kissed, and a smile curled along her lips, kissing Sumiko in return she placed a hand on the former Inquisitor's forearm. "It has been a welcomed distraction from the cesspool that is Brentaal IV, and yes, I've heard that we've got quite a few people coming to the ball." Valessia wanted to say how much she missed Sumiko since they last were together but she knew better than to voice such things and instead looked across to the lobby, "and there is Grand Moff Fortan and her dashing Duke, shall we say hi?"

The trade representative looked to the Atrisian and extended her arm, inviting her lover to walk with her as they met with [member="Natasi Fortan"] and [member="Darell Irani"]. "Grand Moff Fortan, Duke Irani of Derellium," she pauses a moment to allow for the greetings to settle and then introduces [member="Sumiko Tanaka"], "this is Lady Sumiko Tanaka." And to further elaborate, "I am one of the Grand Moff's many employees." To be quite frank, she was most likely more than just a well-placed digitus at this point in their careers.

Looking up past Grand Moff Fortan's shoulders, she watched [member="Ludolf Vaas"] and his beau [member="Marzena Choi"] atop of the stairs making their way down to the ballroom where the doors were wide open. Stairs poured down toward either Inveraray or Highclere with a grand clock square in the middle between the two marking the lobby. "Please go ahead and enjoy the ball, I have much to do," the Scion says to Natasi and the Duke. She waited until they're out of earshot and looks to Sumiko, slipping her hand into the Atrisian's.

"I did rope you into this, and it would be a shame if I left you to fend for yourself with all those military men, and the noble women," Valessia cooed and looked over her shoulder again, "c'mon, let's go scare the barkeeps into making sure the riff-raff pay for their alcohol instead of trying to pull a fast one."

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Valessia Brentioch"], [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Darell Irani"]


It occured to Sumiko that she had...sort of missed the Scion. Well, her company was very pleasant and the lack of it had been unfortunate. Yes, that was totally it. "It is a welcome distraction, yes. I've spent the last few weeks commanding and disciplining two surly elves. Useful minions, but like petty children." Her eyes darted towards the two luminaries Valessia indicated.


She'd obviously heard of the Grand Moff, the same applied to the business moghul, the Duke of Derellium. Grand Moff Fortan had enjoyed a meteoric rise and seemed to have become the public face of the First Order. Certainly more than the reclusive Supreme Leader. Sumiko still suspected he was just a projection. "High-profile company. You're going places," she accepted the profferred arm and headed over towards them.


"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Grand Moff, Your Grace," she said in a polite tone after Valessia made the introductions. "Allow me to congratulate you on your promotion," that remark was obviously directed towards the Iron Lady. She gave both a respectful nod, then proceeded on with Valessia.


She chuckled slightly in response to Valessia's comment after the two grandees were out of earshot. "Truly, I'd be lost among the crowd of nobles and I'd deliberately use the wrong fork to offend them," she said with an air of sarcasm. Truth be told, she was not used to soirees like this. Most of her life had been spent in the shadows, doing an Empire's dirty work. Times had changed, but she was not much of a social butterfly.


"I take it when you say the barkeep you don't mean literally flood their plebeian minds with fear and terror? Just joking." Her sense of humour could be rather morbid. "I've been working on some projects, I can tell you about it later. Somewhere less crowded."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Don't rush on my account," said Sioux as she sat next to [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. She had her compact open and held it open and up in her left hand while her right hand carefully touched up her lipstick. The Principal Private Secretary to Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"] -- recently returned to the Grand Moff's good graces following a spectacular blowout involving the encroaching pop-tart [member="Marzena Choi"] -- had chosen a pale cream gown with golden embellishments for the evening's affair. "I'll have plenty to keep me busy. I'll have to catch up with the Grand Moff and I'm sure Calinda and some of the other cabinet will be here. Lots of moving and shaking to be done."

She finally closed her compact and tucked it back into her clutch.

When they entered, Sioux looked around. "I don't know why they had to have it way out in the sticks of Prosperia," she said in a tone that suggested she was not impressed with the surroundings. Turning back to Captain von Brinkerhoff, she raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. Did you trim your mustache for this? Slick."

 

[Viktor DuSang]

"You're very kind to say. I can't wait to see their faces twisted in jealousy when we hit the dance floor." he remarked to [member="Lady Kay"] with a playful wink. She was nervous, the young noble putting a hand on her arm. "You're among friends, My Lady. Let us just enjoy the evening." It had been about a year since he was able to attend a ball.

"I'm sorry your last encounter with the Grand Admiral didn't end favorably. Perhaps if you tried again, they might be different. People change. The Galaxy is always spinning." Yellow eyes fell back on the President as he nodded. "I know how to prepare a splendid cup of Sapir tea for when it gets to be about that time in the evening." he said with a coy smile, walking off to get her punch.

Yellow eyes fell on [member="Sioux Chambers"] as he blew her a kiss. He couldn't help but chuckle seeing [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] as her date. He gave her a very approving, not sarcastic at all (Okay. Maybe a bit sarcastic...) thumbs up and nod. Still, good for them. They were both interesting people, some of his favorite people he'd met within the First Order. He wholeheartedly approved.

Going to the other end of the bar where he wouldn't run into his family, he ordered a punch and a flute of champagne. This was a celebration of the First Order in all of her glory and splendor. And he had to pace himself. Walking back to the President of Commenor, handing her the glass of punch. "Cheers, love."

 

[Marzena Vaas]

The sight of Ludolf’s smile and the sound of his deep voice was enough to ease Marzena’s mind. She returned his kiss, and lingered close to him, gazing up affectionately when their lips parted. While her moods lately had been turbulent and unpredictable, [member="Ludolf Vaas"] had been the steady constant that she needed to stay grounded. He was endlessly patient, caring, and he seemed to know exactly the right things to say. Marzena’s manicured hand found his and she smiled as they set out for the Rosamund Hotel.

As the speeder set off, Marzena closed her eyes, taking the opportunity to rest before an eventful night to come. The singer did delight in social outings, but now there was also part of her that wanted nothing more than to curl up at home. However, she would not have dreamed of missing the Military Ball in Prosperia, even if it was a bit of a trip. Though she missed the majority of the sights on the way, she was sure that the city was just as lovely as Avalonia. Everyone knew that Marzena absolutely adored Cloud City, but the First Order’s capital was slowly winning over her over.

Dark eyes blinked open when the transport came to a halt, and she accepted Ludolf’s assistance as she stepped out as gracefully as she could manage. Her heels touched down gently on the sidewalk, and she walked alongside the Field Marshal, holding gently onto his hand as they made their way inside. The venue certainly did not disappoint, it was every bit as grand as one would expect. Still, it was quite an impressive sight. Just being there brought back memories...

“It is a bit strange.” She agreed, but felt a smile tug at her lips, “I remember that night very well and very fondly. We shall have to dance tonight; we didn’t get to last time.”

Marzena also remembered that Ludolf had shared a dance with a very strange woman that night. She would never have admitted it at the time, but now she could acknowledge that she had been jealous.

“It’s just music, dear.” She laughed pleasantly, giving Ludolf’s hand a squeeze. “It could be worse. After all, you did hire a pop star to perform at the last military ball.” Marzena said in a playful tone, even she could poke fun at herself every now and then.

As the couple began to descend, she spotted [member="Valessia Brentioch"] almost immediately. The hostess for the night was bustling about, diligently performing her duties - Marzena noted the rather stunning woman at Valessia's side. But as she caught sight of the pair that Lady Brentioch was greeting, Marzena’s heart gave a leap. It was Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"], and her gentleman companion. For now, she turned her gaze back to Ludolf, trying desperately to will her smile to stay put.

“Well, where should we start?”

 

[Kay-Larr]

Madam President. Your Grace. Your Excellency. My Lady. Love. The fact that [member="Viktor DuSang"] had used all of these terms made her think that maybe he was just testing them out to see which one worked better. As he walked to the bar, avoiding his father, [member="Avicus DuSang"] , it made her wonder what their relationship was like. Perhaps she would find out later. She studied him while he fetched them both a drink. Was he falling for her? Or was he just being a dutiful host? More than likely it was the latter.

When he returned with the drunks, she took her glass if punch and raised it up in a bit of a toast salute, "Cheers", before having a sip. "And please, you may call me Kay. There's no need for any titles between us, unless I am being introduced. But that is only if I am allowed to address you as Viktor."

She took another sip of her punch, glancing again towards [member="William Kerkov"] . "I know the Grand Admiral's son. He handles some of Commenor's banking needs. I try not to keep all of our eggs in one basket."

There were many questions about Viktor that she had in mind. Hopefully when the time came, she wouldn't forget them. "On the subject of dancing, I must give you fair warning, I have two left feet it seems. Even in practice recently, I have stumbled. So I hope that your shoes do well to protect your toes." Kay flashed him a smile of amusement, as her good friend Joshua would do to help her to relax in these formal events.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik could not help himself but smile, the expression accentuating the neatly displayed mustache - just barely trimmed to within regulation. The only quirk in an otherwise pristine appearance and conformity to standards - and a point of pride (or secret ridicule) of many a pilot in the Starfighter Corps.

"As a matter of fact, I did." He nodded affirmatively to [member="Sioux Chambers"] before giving the area another scan. Not for fighter pilots this time, but to take in the interior scenery for truly the first deliberate time.

"You know me, I couldn't tell this place from the palace to begin with. It all looks the same to me, and frankly, I think I'm better for it." Roderik added the last part with a fair bit of levity to his voice. He was not against formal occasions or events, nor did he find much discomfort with being surrounded by the wealthier or more aristocratic classes. A pleasant time was undoubtedly in store, to which the captain was open, but he was the rare sort that found a sense of comfort in sparse, functional environments, such as those found in military facilities and even more-so, among the bulkheads of the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, Concordia. Extravagance simply wasn't the style of Roderik von Brinkerhoff -- much to the dismay of his own, quite aristocratic, family.

"See if any of that moving and shaking can knock General Breyer out of favor,"

Roderik caught himself too late and raised a hand in apology. The General of the Starfighters, Something-or-Other Breyer, was something of an ill topic among the pilots of the Corps in general, and specifically the subject of Roderik's continued ire. An incompetent, backstabbing man, Breyer had continued to reign over the Corps in some of its darkest days.

"I didn't mean that. No business talk from here on, from me." He was also one to hate the appearance of impropriety or lack of military discipline, and a joke about overthrowing of the highest official in the Starfighter Corps was just the sort of thing Roderik would chew a subordinate out over, no matter the situation.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Sioux's eyes narrowed at [member="Viktor DuSang"] across the room and she gave her head an almost imperceptible shake. He had a tendency to give her grief -- well, technically she had started it. She was a bit like a dog in that way -- she had exerted her dominance on the lad from the moment he had been assigned to [member="Natasi Fortan"] and her security detail. No one was capable of evicting her from her position as golden child. No one except herself, that was. Things had been strained between she and Natasi since her blowout with [member="Marzena Choi"]. No doubt the pop-tart would be lowering property values here tonight, too. But Sioux was on her best behavior, and now that Choi knew who had buttered her bread, there was nothing left to say to her. She probably didn't even have the capacity to be embarrassed.

For a moment, she had forgotten where she was. She turned back to [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] with an apologetic smile. "Don't worry about it, Captain," she said, dragging a finger across her lips in an eerie mimicry of Natasi herself, then pressing her index finger across her lips lengthwise. "No names, no pack drills." The truth was, Natasi herself was getting irritated with Breyer, but it was more than her job was worth to share that information with Roderik.

"Don't be afraid to talk business," Sioux returned with a smile. "But perhaps limit your talk of high treason to the men's room. Oh God," she added, putting her hand to her forehead as if to shield her eyes. She pointed over Roderik's shoulder.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Cigarette: dangling from between lips, smoking ominously.

Flask: hidden in right dress boot.

Reserve flask: hidden in left dress boot.

Cigarette case: taped dress cap.

Uniform: perfectly pressed and worn much the same way a king wears a crown.

Dress cap: perched upon perfectly coiffed hair at a jaunty angle.

Date: Lady Livia Landbridge, Dowager Duchess of Emsbury, aged 31.

Sobriety: Sober (more or less).

Pierce cut rather a dashing figure, if he did say so himself, in his dress blacks. Or dress reds. Whatever the hell they were. All he knew is that [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] wore one with gold braids on his left arm. Pierce didn't have any braids. His feelings about the braids were mixed; obviously, as a career man, he'd like to have the braids at some point. But the responsibility of herding all the cats of the 100th was of little interest to him at this moment. Perhaps for now, he could let the golden braids go.

"I can't believe you're wearing a tiara," Pierce told Livia Landbridge, the glamorous young widow he had become acquainted with on his last visit home. He had paid his respects to the late Duke of Emsbury, aged 67 at time of death, and had returned some hours later, where he spent the rest of the evening and a good portion of the following morning paying his respects to Livia. "You were only married to good old whatsisname for fifteen minutes."

"I know," said Livia with a giggle. "But that still entitles me to wear it. And I always will if I can."

"Absurd," Pierce replied with a disbelieving grin. "Just absurd. But that's why I like you." He looked up and took his cigarette from his mouth, blowing out a puff of smoke as he waved at Roderik. "The CO has to make sure I'm ship shape and Bristol fashion before we can go in. Come on, I'll introduce you." He strolled over to Roderik and [member="Sioux Chambers"], extending a hand to both. Sioux, he kissed on both cheeks as they shook hands. "Can't believe you're slumming it with the mustache," said Pierce to Sioux conspiratorially. "A man who won't even shave for you -- well, you know what they say. Oh, have you met Livia? Lady Livia Landbridge, the Dowager Duchess of Emsbury. Duchess, may I present Captain Roderik von Brinkerhoff and the lovely and talented Sioux Chambers." He let go of Livia so she could shake hands, then performed an exaggerated pirouette in front of von Brinkerhoff.

"Will I do, old chap?"

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

"He's behind me, isn't he?" Roderik let out as [member="Sioux Chambers"] reacted. Flinching while he instinctively made an casual-but-precise about-face, expecting to find himself looking down the nasty gaze of General Breyer. Instead, he found himself looking at the perpetually smoking [member="Pierce Fortan III"] and his date for the evening.

Already upon first full glance Roderik could make out the bulges of primary and secondary flasks hidden in the Lieutenant's boots. The excessive, unaccounted for size of the flasks caused a slight deviation from the standards in the pilot's bloused pant legs. Perhaps imperceptible to an untrained eye, but to anyone who had conducted countless dress uniform inspections, it was apparent. Roderik had to give Pierce credit, at least. They were concealed very, very well. Perhaps the younger man had even had them specifically tailored to house the flasks.

"By the stars, it's you." Roderik looked visibly relieved at this, enough to not comment on the lit cigarette hanging on Pierce's lip. Roderik wasn't the arbiter of the smoking policy tonight, at least. It wasn't his ballroom, and he frankly didn't care what their rules were for at least this split second.

"You don't even realize you're giving me a compliment here, pal." Roderik reached up with his left hand to stroke his mustache appreciatively before looking to Sioux with another flash of a smile, "A trim is the same as a shave."

He shook Pierce's hand and added a firm, friendly tap on the Lieutenant's shoulder with his free hand. This was followed by a polite shake of the Duchess' hand when introduced, along with accompanying pleasantries.

Roderik's smile returned again, and intensified with Pierce's exaggerated pirouette form. Again, despite his general reluctance for tom-foolery, he allowed the mention of flasks to go unspoken. Most likely the flasks would never leave their concealed locations, what with the free, open bar for military personnel - to which Roderik and Pierce had the distinct privilege of being, on this occasion.

"What do you say, Sioux? Is he already an embarrassment to my hard work, or will he do?"

Everything had looked about right on first glance, minus the boot-flasks. Medal placement, shiny and bold, was correct, as were all other attire accompaniments. He would do, it seemed.

It was no secret by now that Pierce was not just Roderik's executive officer and friend, but also his professional pet project, and the exemplary pilot officer and gentleman that Roderik intended to showcase to the First Order and Starfighter Corps -- some day. When all of the rough edges were ironed out. Step one was looking the part, perfect and professional.

Even the Grand Moff herself would be proud and amazed by the transformation of her cousin some day.

 

[Coffeeccubus]

Glancing around for a bit, Charlotte went to get some wine and poured herself some, sipping it softly. She was pretty quiet, not really having much friends. Besides, she never really was the one to openly speak to people unless they speak to her first. She moved her fingers against the glass as she drank from the glass cup. It was then she saw a familiar face in the room in a fine dress. Glancing over at whom this person even was, it was... [member="Lady Kay"]?

Oh gosh... this was quite awkward. Considering the fact she met her on Commenor as someone whom was trying to get information from her, it was already disturbing her that she was actually here... Was she trying to pull the same thing she was? Either or, Charlotte remained calm, and had that peaceful look on her face as she took another sip from her wine. She never knew that Kay would even have relations with the First Order or anything like that. It was quite interesting. After all, Charlotte knows some things about Commenor. Maybe Kay was also affiliated with the First Order? It would be weird if she was... hmn. There was much for her to think about.

Yet again, stranger things had indeed happened.