First Order: A Rose In Her Hand

[Asharad Graush]

Despite the relatively evil look on his face, he was as glad as he could possibly be, for he had finally seen someone he knew. Perhaps not personally, but he had encountered him some time before when he had had his Squad run against another at some... Dead Nebula Space Station was it? Yes, that was it, he thought. There he had been the commanding officer running operations in the Simulation Room. For once in a combat situation, the Defenders were at a disadvantage, but before he could see [member="Rolf Amsel"] fail, or succeed, he had been called away. Perhaps they had won, perhaps they didn't, it wouldn't change his opinion of the man.

He's a soldier, is all. Give him armour, guns, orders, and a unit and he'll do as told. Simple.

All these thoughts melted a path through his thoughts as he listened and nodded.

The Sergeant's hand rose up in between them.

I should just cut off his hand.

But the High Colonel had been learning, don't forget. His hand came up, just in time before he made the both of them look like awkward fools and he shook his hand.

Pleasantries. Always pleasantries.

"The music is great." Enough emphasis to know that he didn't think so at all. "I've only just arrived myself. Did I miss the pledge to the Supreme Leader?" The question seemed innocent enough, but anyone with a brain could tell that he didn't really give a kark, but no one could really say that to his face. Other than that one Grand Moff. She basically just told him how it was. A warning perhaps, and one that he had taken to heart. May as well play the part and get better at it than being executed for being false.

"A pleasure," he said to [member="Sara Lee Jones"] when she greeted him. The words of the Sergeant crossing his mind once more as he replayed the last part he said. Exquisite scenery. There was a raising of his brow, but all he said after that was, "Please, in company like this, refer to me as A'sharad." Wait. Why'd I say that?

"You're a pilot aren't you, Miss?" Those unsettling golden orbs settled on the recent graduate from the Flight Academy. They were the only sign that he wasn't entirely human, (or at all) for his face contained no other signs of Sith Corruption.

 

[Marzena Vaas]

It was strange to see Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"], a woman that she respected and one that she had been proud to call a friend. But things were different now. Weeks had passed since the two had last spoken, and those parting words had been anything but friendly. Marzena almost instantly regretted the part she had played in their argument; her selfish side had taken charge and she had been weak in a moment of emotional chaos. There was a nagging voice inside that told her to apologize to Natasi, but she was stubborn and harboring hurt feelings of her own.

How could she apologize to anyone that had called her a bauble of a woman?

But truly, it stung to know that Natasi thought she would damage the good image of Marshal Vaas. Marzena also knew what [member="Sioux Chambers"] thought of her – it wasn’t much. Her dark eyes had seen the PPS to the Grand Moff moving through the crowd. Marzena would turn a cold shoulder in her direction, but she doubted very much that she could ever reach the levels of frigid that Sioux did.

Marzena stood next to [member="Ludolf Vaas"] as Lady Brentioch took to the stage. She did not recite the First Order pledge and raise her fist with the others, but she did bow her head respectfully and place a hand over her heart. Valessia’s voice continued to speak in grand tones, announcing that Anna Yun was to perform at a benefit concert. Marzena’s heart nearly stopped beating.

Anna Yun.

Her lips parted breathlessly, and she blinked in stunned disbelief. It was a name that she hadn’t heard in ages. Marzena hardly knew what to think now, but she should have guessed this would happen. After all, now that she was not on good terms with the Grand Moff, she would certainly not be welcome to perform at a government sponsored function – so they had booked her rival.

“Hmm?” She looked up to Ludolf, her expression distant and distracted. “Oh, yes... I shall put in for the raffle as well.” Marzena tried to smile, but it felt forced.

She would gladly greet Ms. Brentioch, but the others? Marzena knew where this was going, and it was a place that she did not want to visit. But for now, she could only steel her nerves and resolve to be perfectly pleasant and polite.

Her hand rose into a graceful wave, hoping to catch the attention of [member="Valessia Brentioch"], as they made their way over towards the table to put in their names.

 

[Progflaw99]

She'd spotted the pair from across the room as they'd entered. Lady Kay, guest of Victor DuSang. The file hadn't been terribly extensive, but it had been just enough that she'd been able to identify them. Ellara had been flitting about like a busy bee, socializing and moving about the room as she moved towards the pair. It was a slow process, shifting systematically from group to group, waiting several minutes and inserting herself subtly into the conversation in each case. As was appropriate, she commented on women's dresses, their accompanying jewelry and the like. She might even get some free marketing out of this gig, at least Ellara the fashion designer would.

After a little while longer she'd managed to get nearby to the duo, after the reciting of the pledge and the music continued, she casually approached. As she did so, she put on a smile, her gait changing slightly. Smaller, more feminine steps, a subtle sway to her hips. The music was good, that certainly helped. Politely she waited for a lull in conversation before interjecting.

"Oh look at that!" She exclaimed. "It's just my luck, not only do I see a beautiful dress, but the woman wearing it is none other than Lady Kay herself! You look absolutely stunning!" Ellara paused, feigning surprise. "Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Ellara Vendaris. VV Designs. I saw your dress and couldn't help myself, I had to get a closer look." With a curtsy to both the woman and her date, she continued. "How are you both enjoying your evening? The First Order sure does know how to decorate, this place!" As she spoke, she eyed the seams and construction of the dress, mentally storing the information in her "Toss Later" bin.

Step 1. Contact. Complete.

[member="Viktor DuSang"] | [member="Lady Kay"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Oh Nils. What have you gotten yourself into this time? He was running behind.. well, he wasn't running behind. They were just arriving, the large speeder carrying a group of guests now disembarking. He'd ended up in a shuttle with a few other First Order troops as well as their dates, even a few local political figures but no one of real note. Nils checked his chrono nervously. Well, might as well get a move on.

"Are you ready then?" He said, smiling at the woman at his arm.

Anna was an attractive young brunette with blue eyes, in fact she was even the same age as Nils. The two had met, skiing on the slopes high in the mountains of Dosuun. They'd shared a ski-lift together.During the long trip the top they started talking, mostly about what they each did for a living. They found that despite their vast differences in occupation, they shared a lot of the same views on life, strangely deep for something as simple as a ski-lift ride; to be fair, the mountains on Dosuun were quite large. After their "Ski-lift encounter" they parted ways. Later that same week he was in Avalonia, shortly after being assigned to the 100th Fighter Squadron. She'd told him she was currently working at a small medical clinic as a nurse which just happened to be around the corner from the 100th Fighter Squadron headquarters building.

He hated to admit it but he'd not stopped thinking about their brief encounter and had secretly hoped he'd see her again. Hoping be kriffed, he made a split decision to swing by and see her. Since then, they'd been seeing each other whenever time permitted, a friendship at first, simply trading stories and writing each other to pass the time. It had progressed farther and Nils, seizing the opportunity, had invited her to the Military Appreciation ball on Prosperia.. as his date.

Now the pair had walked up to the main entrance, Nils spotting the rest of his cadre already inside. That was the price he paid, he supposed. He'd arrived on time but Anna had other plans, she'd been 'held up' in getting prepared and had delayed their departure just long enough to be late. He'd forgiven her of course, the quick peck on his cheek hadn't hurt either. Self consciously he looked down at his uniform. Were his medals straight? Were there any stray strands of fabric from the seams? Anything out of place? He knew the answer but he checked nonetheless. When it came to his uniform, it was hard to find anything at all to complain about. Everything was fastidiously maintained, ironed, and arranged. It was one of his points of pride, his attention to detail.

As the music resumed from inside, he moved forward once more, passing into the main hall. As they moved carefully through the crowd, Anna tugged lightly at his arm.

"Do you see your friends? I never expected so many people." she said in amazement.

It was true, the ball was decked out in full regalia, banners of the First Order prominently displayed all over. Uniforms, Suits, Dresses. The event was much larger than any she'd ever been to before, Anna felt almost eclipsed by it. Turning to her as he made his way towards the edge of the room, away from the dancing groups towards the center, he spotted [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] and his date, [member="Sioux Chambers"]. Heading in their direction, he responded to his date's question.

"I do, they're this way." he said, nodding in their direction. "It sure is a pretty big turnout, did you want anything to drink?"

Anna shook her head. She'd managed just fine so far in life without consuming alcohol, no need to start now. If Nils felt so inclined, she certainly wouldn't hold it against him, he was a distinguished pilot of the First Order and she wasn't there to change him if that's who he was or what he wanted to do. Frankly, she felt honored that he would ask her to go with him... did that mean there was something more in store for them later on down the road? Maybe... but she wouldn't open that can of worms just yet.

As Nils approached his Captain, he offered a mock salute and in turn bowed respectfully towards the Captain's date.

"Good Evening Sir, glad to see you in such high spirits! And you Miss Chambers, it's a pleasure. I'd like you to meet my date this evening, Miss Anna Volker."

Anna curtsied, blushing slightly. So this was Captain von Brinkerhoff. Nils had spoken only good things about him and she could see why. He was the spitting image of a gentleman, complete with orderly and well kept mustache. That mustache. She forced back a giggle. When Nils had said it was... extravagant, she didn't think it was that magnificent, but it was.

"Nice to meet you both." She said, absolutely beaming.

[member="Pierce Fortan III"] | First Order​

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

He arrived late, in complete defiance of every bit of etiquette his Axxlan upbringing demanded. His uniform was pressed, immaculate, dress whites designed almost as a perfect copy of those from the ancient Galactic Empire. Grand Admiral, a fitting title, he supposed. Earned by merit, as was proper, no preening or ass-kissing necessary. Sure, perhaps the First Order had been generous, people had a tendency to do that when you showed up at their doorstep with five super star destroyers for a gift.

They styled themselves a new Empire, an old idea with a modern twist to it. Some, this all felt oddly familiar, and Cyrus had to double check to make sure he wasn't back in the royal palace on Atrisia. Nah, still this new city, made of fresh duracrete and glittering fake marble and a lot of blood and corpses for the foundations.

It felt like home.

The ever loyal Commodore Vayyrel was on his left, giving a brief rundown of the various important persons to Admiral Sekerian, who by virtue of being the senior-most officer to defect with Cyrus was now his chief of staff. He was also nearly as disinterested in the who's and why's as Cyrus was, and with barely more than a nod departed the group to go prey after whatever alien made him tic that week.
The Sith cultivated two things in their servants, loyalty and competence. Mostly vices went ignored, though in Sekerian's case his distinct lack of devotion to the Sith cause had been to Cyrus' benefit. He was more than willing to tolerate some deviancy on that account.

Further thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in the audio system.

We pledge to thee, Leader Supreme.​

We First Imperials, Glory, Honor and Loyalty.​

Glory to the Order. Honor to the Empire.​

Loyalty to His Lordship. Sacrifice in His Name.​

Hail to Him, Hail to the Order.​

Raise our colors for all to see, raise our banners.​

So they might see, the Glory and the Honor.​

Of His First Order Supreme, we Imperials true.​

Bestow to Him, Glory, Honor, and Loyalty.​

Hail to our Heritage, Hail to the Order.​

We are Heirs of the Empire.​

We are the First Imperials.​

We are the First Order.​

​

Cyrus listened intently and considered the words. But he did not speak any of them, and as the broadcast ended found he felt much the same as before. So they were built on jingoism and loyalty? Good, that meant they'd obey orders and follow instructions. That way made good soldiers, made for an effective empire. So long as that meant battles to fight, that would be good enough.

The bar, he'd heard, was complimentary to military personnel. Not that he couldn't afford it, but there was never a good reason to turn your nose up at free drinks.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Of course he knew [member="Lady Kay"] would give a diplomatic answer. She was particularly guarded. The noble was no stranger to guarded women. He smirked at her answer. Speeder bikes. They were quite fun. He pondered taking her one night. To see what she was really like when she let her hair down.

Before he could speak, the grand presentation of the First Order took hold of the entire event. The jingoist pledge was drilled into his head from the moment he was brought into the Order of Ren. He stood at attention, reciting the words almost at instinct. The love of their nation was indoctrinating. The young Earl became more entrenched in the traditions of the First Order the more time spent with the First Order.

The more that he spent with Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"].

The display had wrapped up and yellow eyes turned back to his date as he smirked. "Me? I like to attend fashion shows. I also love to shop. Whenever I'm upset, I go out and buy new clothes. It always makes me feel better." he said with a casual shrug. He was about to speak more, but the pair was approached by [member="Val Kordova"]. Yellow eyes stayed fixated on the woman as he circled behind his date.

His eyes widened when she introduced herself. Here he was in front of a fashion designer wearing last year's shoes that had been mildly scuffed during the dance. He could simply die. "Ms. Vendaris. It's an absolute pleasure. Earl Viktor Maurow-DuSang du Coruscant. I attended the VV Design fashion show a few months back on Coruscant. Your summer gown collection was exquisite. C'est magnifique!"

He tried his best not to lose his cool, but he had so many things he wanted to talk about. "The evening is going quite lovely. Despite what she'll tell you, Kay is a terrific dancer." Cold tendrils of the Force picked up the pairs' drinks as they levitated back to his hand. Taking a sip of his champagne, he handed the punch to the President of Commenor. "Oh, indeed. I must say that the First Order is the very last word of sophistication here in the Galaxy. Tres chique."

 

[Avicus DuSang]

[member="William Kerkov"] was an impressive man, to say the least. His demeanor didn't simply command respect, it dictated it. "It's good to be here, sir." In truth, he sort of missed attending social events such as these. A chance to mingle with the proverbial who's who of the Galaxy. Or, in this case, simply those within the First Order. Still, it was the first time in a considerably long time that he had attended such an event stag.

He raised his glass of brandy to the Grand Admiral's wife, giving her a very friendly nod. "You're a very lucky man, Grand Admiral." he said with a smile. Kerkov's question caused him to look down at his drink. His mind drifting to [member="Lorelei Darke"]. "I extended the invitation to someone special. She wants me to repair the relationship with our son before I can start to repair what we had. So, I very much doubt she'll be in attendance."

Yellow eyes followed [member="Viktor DuSang"] as he made his way to the bar, going well out of his way to avoid his father. Finishing his brandy, he set the glass down. As it was refilled, he watched his son walk back to [member="Lady Kay"] as he could only smirk. The DuSang's certainly had a knack for pursuing gentry.

The lights were dimmed and the First Order showed it's rock hard, throbbing love for itself. Avicus stood, mouthing the words of the pledge before once more taking his seat. Sipping his brandy, [member="Zee"]'s approach to the bar caught his attention. There was something very familiar about this woman. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As she ordered her drinks, he pondered. A thought crossed his mind. But it couldn't be... Could it? "Xyra Sizhran..." he whispered, turning to her to give her a full look. "By the fates... It is you!" he exclaimed, picking her up by the waist and twirling around. What a spectacle the Dark God made, kissing her on the cheek as he set her down.

"My dear you are a sight for these old eyes to behold." he said with a courteous bow.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Go shopping? Well, some people were that way. In particular, nobility. She half wondered if [member="Viktor DuSang"] ever had a time in his life when he had no credits, and not just because he spent it all at that moment during a shopping spree. Kay knew what it was like to have nothing. She had lost everything twice in her lifetime and wasn't raised into privilege. Perhaps if her Imperial parents hadn't abandoned her when they discovered that she was Force sensitive, her life would have been completely different. But that was all 'what ifs' and pondering on it for too long was just silly.

And then her thoughts were interrupted by [member="Val Kordova"] as the woman eagerly approached them. Kay had no idea that she was quite well known here. If anything, she figured that she'd be viewed as infamous due to her past position as a Senator for the Republic. But maybe the recent election on Commenor put her in a different light.

She bowed her head to the fashion designer, having never heard of her or her company. Unlike Viktor, Kay didn't keep up on such things. But she smiled regardless. "It's lovely to meet you, Ms. Vendaris. We had only arrived a short bit ago. This is my first function hosted by the First Order and I am quite impressed."

Kay paused in order for Viktor to speak, smirking a little at his compliment on her dancing. The man was just gushing over the fashion designer. It was clear that his passion, maybe even his life, revolved around the fashion industry. It could even be a hobby of his. Everyone had their quirks, hers being her love of tea.

As he used the Force to levitate their drinks to them, Kay made double-sure that her Force signature was still shrunk down to a small tree nut in size. It was. She took her punch and had a small sip. "How is your evening thus far, Ms. Vendaris?"

 

[Progflaw99]

Ellara let a short squeak of excitement escape her lips as she reached out and brushed the man's arm.

"I wasn't aware anyone really paid attention! Glad you enjoyed it!" She gave the man a sweet smile. "Oh is she now? You know us women, always playing at not being good at things so we have a use for you men, am I right?" She nudged Lady Kay playfully. She smiled at the man, he seemed to be quite in the know regarding fashion. He looked quite magnificent himself. The show in Coruscant had gone off without a hitch but since then, her designs had always come up just a little bit short but that was a discussion for another time. She smiled and nodded in agreement. The First Order was the pinnacle of sophistication.

She turned towards Lady Kay, listening as she spoke.

"Miss Kay, the pleasure is entirely mine. You know, let me send you home with a few dresses, no obligation to wear them, but I'll make sure they get delivered to you before you leave." She paused. "It's one of the reasons I've been thinking about opening up a gallery here on Dosuun, such a posh location only made better by the First Order. I'm glad you two are enjoying yourselves!"

Absentmindedly she retrieved a small comlink from her clutch, sending a signal to a pre-arranged droid delivery protocol. Before Lady Kay left Prosperia, a delivery droid would arrive providing several dresses, specially designed by Ellara. If everything went according to plan, she'd accept them and go on about her business, whether that took her back to Commenor or elsewhere. After hitting the button, she quickly replaced it in her clutch and continued.

"I am absolutely thrilled to be here. Did you see all the uniforms? Whoever designed those deserves some recognition, and they chose the darnedest colors for their medals, they contrast so well!"

She left the conversation open, snagging a thin wine glass as it passed by.

"Well, I didn't mean to interrupt, but I just had to say hello. Perhaps I can throw a fashion show on Commenor one of these days, it's been far too long since I've made my way in that direction." She smiled. She didn't want to talk about "Work" more than necessary, besides, these people werehere to enjoy the party, and honestly, she wanted them thinking of nothing but enjoying themselves, at least for the moment.

[member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Viktor DuSang"]​

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Valessia Brentioch"]


Valessia showed her some rather pleasurable images that would probably give the censor a stroke. "It would be my pleasure. I'm holding you to that," Sumiko said sweetly before the Scion took off. Then the theatralics began. The music slowed, the lights dimmed and the spotlights were directed to the stage of the First Imperial Orchestra.


There was a podium, Imperial flags and banners. The First Order seemed to be pulling out all the stops to drape itself in the mantle of the First Galactic Empire. This was no surprise because that's what every neo-Imperial regime sought to achieve. Valessia began her speech and then recited the Imperial Pledge. Sumiko perceived a strong resemblance between the cultist reverence the early One Sith held for the Dark Lord - or claimed to at least! - and the Supreme Leader's Cult of Personality.

We pledge to thee, Leader Supreme.​

We First Imperials, Glory, Honor and Loyalty.​

Glory to the Order. Honor to the Empire.​

Loyalty to His Lordship. Sacrifice in His Name.​

Hail to Him, Hail to the Order.​

Raise our colors for all to see, raise our banners.​

So they might see, the Glory and the Honor.​

Of His First Order Supreme, we Imperials true.​

Bestow to Him, Glory, Honor, and Loyalty.​

Hail to our Heritage, Hail to the Order.​

We are Heirs of the Empire.​

We are the First Imperials.​

We are the First Order.​

​

The pledge was martial, jingoistic and imperialist. Recurring themes were unwavering obedience, the exaltation of the Supreme Leader and an attempt to link past Imperial glory with the First Order, which purported to be the one and only legitimate successor. The glorious Phoenix that would rise from the ashes to claim the Galaxy and impose what it regarded it as true and lasting order.


Sumiko did not stand rigid or recite the pledge. She felt something like pride for Valessia getting this moment in the limelight, but the pledge did not stir any sudden patriotic feelings inside her. Once she'd served an empire, the Atrisian Empire. She'd fulfilled her duty with the dedication of a zealot, but her devotion had been to the Inquisition, not the man who happened to sit upon the throne. Its collapse had broken her chains. She watched the proceedings and sipped a glass of champagne, then joined the clapping at the end.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Credits never equated a lack of problems. Viktor had his own demons he lived with, and ghosts that haunted his memories. As a 20 year old, he carried himself like a gentleman. His demeanor was a testament to the wisdom he had acquired through life. He would take Kay shopping just to showcase how fun the event could be.

His mother loved fashion. She always adorned the most beautiful outfits. She's the reason his father tried to dress so well. However, he didn't have the passion for fashion like Viktor. He enjoyed going to fashion shows with her, and still loved them. "Loved it, mademoiselle. It's a shame the spotlight was on Courtier and his men's show. Though, let's be honest. Tailcoats? I'm glad those went out of style as quickly as they came back. My butler was furious. Said people were stealing his look."

He smirked as [member="Val Kordova"] gave [member="Lady Kay"] a light nudge. When Ellara mentioned Kay receiving some of her dresses, Viktor pulled out his datapad. His thoughts drifted back to his dance with Kay, his fingertips gliding along her form. Making a few small calculations, he typed in her measurements and the dock number for his space yacht. "There. That should be all the information you should need, Ms. Vendaris. I'm taking her back to Commenor after the ball, so you can send everything to the Decadence."

He took a sip of his champagne. "A show in Dosuun would be fantastic. You must let me know when it will be. I'll talk the Grand Moff into attending. She always has an eye out for the latest fashion." Sipping his champagne, he nodded. "Indeed. I'm sure the designing process was lengthy and expensive. I'm sure every stitch was an intricate plan."

Finishing the flute of champagne, he set the empty glass on a tray of a nearby servant. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Vendaris." Yellow eyes turned to Kay as he rested a hand on top of her own. "I'm going to escape to the veranda for a smoke. You're more than welcome to join me if you'd like." Giving her a small smile, he made his way out of the ballroom, weaving through the crowd like a ghost.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay smirked a little once again as [member="Val Kordova"] spoke of being cunning enough to play a person into making them feel useful. She just wasn't the sort to even think of doing that.

And then the lady was sending her dresses? Kay was about to tell her that she didn't have to, that she was being too generous, but then [member="Viktor DuSang"] was on hand to make the preparations. So she had lost her chance.

A fashion show on Commenor would probably be quite the spectacle. The clothing shops would probably jump at the chance to be noticed by a famous designer. "I don't believe that Commenor has had a fashion show in years. It would be a lovely event. It could be held at the University where many students learning in that industry could benefit. You would of course be the guest of honour, Ms. Vendaris."

As it seemed the lady was going to leave them be, Kay looked down to her hand as Viktor touched it, spoke, and then disappeared in the crowd. She just stood there, taking a sip of her punch as she pondered on whether or not she should follow him. Was this some kind of game that those high in society liked to play? If so, she was feeling very much the outsider. And not just because she was pretty much the only person there that wasn't an Imperial. Or, she could just be making up the games in her head, looking for something that just wasn't there. Hmm.

She shrugged her shoulders, having now made up her mind and weaved through the pockets of people. Fresh air would do her good, and it kept her away from having to dance. Kay soon made it to one of the verandas and stepped out onto it. The air was crisp, just the way that she liked it. The view was nice as well. "It's lovely out here..."

 

[Cait Falcor]

Cait Falcor
[member="Zee"], [member="Avicus DuSang"]
___________________

Cait was not usually one for such finery. But when her buddy Zee had had a "+1" to use, she couldn't turn down the excuse to wear a fancy dress and maybe try her hand at dancing again.

Not that we can ever live down the Crowd Surfing incident on Shandrila. Cait thanked the force for small favors that Zee didn't know about that. Some things were just meant to be secrets.

Regardless, here she was, for the first time, in First Order Space. Everything was so clean, and well kept, and orderly. I suppose the "orderly" part really shouldn't come as much of a surprise...its in the name. She thought to herself.

***

Picking out a dress for Zee had been an adventure in frustration, but they'd finally settled on one, and...honestly, Cait was surprised at how well her petite friend cleaned up.

That being said, Cait had still had to remove weapons from Zee's person on no less than three separate occasions. What's more is she was still pretty sure she missed some. We're close...we're not that close, and I wouldn't put it past her to hide something that way.

***

Arriving at the Hall, Cait was...at a loss for words. For once even her own running internal monologue went silent, just taking everything in. Having grown up in the a Galactic Republic which was experiencing something of an economic downturn, everything seemed unimaginably opulent to Cait's eyes. Suddenly her dress, which had seemed so very nice in her mind before, now seemed kind of pedestrian.

***

After a little mingling there had been a speaker, and then everyone took a moment and "Recited the First Order Pledge" or something. Cait noticed her friend Zee getting awfully distressed during the pledge.

For her part Cait just kind of mumbled along as not to look out of place.

Afterward, Zee snapped out of her reverie "Drinks on me. Come on." Or didn't

Cait swallowed her concern, following her friend so that she could support her through this difficult time...

By getting her absolutely hammered.

***

Zee talked quickly, while ordering, like an Alcoholic trying to stammer out their order as fast as possible before getting caught. Before she knew what was going on Cait found herself with a Scotch. Neat.

Even when she's freaking out, girl's got taste, I'll give her that. Cait sniffed the glass, and gave it an experimental sip.

The look of near ecstasy that washed over her face likely gave away her opinion of the amber liquid. Oh my goodness. That's the good stuff.

***

No sooner had Cait and Zee embarked upon Operation: Sith-faced Drunk than a tall, imperious man, with amazing hair and the most piercing eyes imaginable strutted over and picked Zee up like he'd known her for years. Twirling her around and kissing her on the cheek. He clearly intended no malice, he seemed positively giddy.

Zee mostly just seemed shocked.

Cait stopped mid-swig and just watched it all go down. As he set her down and said "My dear you are a sight for these old eyes to behold" Zee simply stood there, frozen for a least half a second like a Dewba Caught in Headlights.

Cait finished her sip of Scotch. I mean...don't let it go to waste, right? and tried to figure out what was going through her buddy's mind.

Tonight just got a lot more interesting.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Cyrus was on his third drink before he even bothered to start examining the crowd. There were, oddly, enough, a number of familiar faces in the crowd. Go figure, halfway across a galaxy of trillions and there always seemed to be someone you'd worked with (or against) before. The Field Marshal was definitely a familiar face, though Cyrus was having trouble placing him, and the lone other figure in a Grand Admirals uniform was known to him by virtue of his title and records, though they had never met personally. There were a few persons in the crowd that had an Atrisian air to them.

How divided was their allegiance, he wondered. Had they drifted to the First Order because they were inherently imperialists at heart, or was there some other appeal? The late Emperor Kahoshi had managed to win Cyrus' personal loyalty, something none had managed since. But Atrisia was long since fallen, now just another territory of the One Sith with some self-proclaimed petty king. Even that state of affairs seemed unlikely to last much longer, with the state of the One Sith.

Exacerbated in part at least by Cyrus' less than amicable departure, no doubt.

He downed the last of the drink in hand, whiskey probably, and grabbed a fourth off the counter that had probably been poured for someone else. Fuck it, he'd always hated gatherings like this, whether in the bizarre austere militarist courtrooms favored by the Tregessars back on Axxila or the ostentatious royal banquet halls on Atrisia. At least the Sith hadn't bothered with such affairs, or if they did they didn't bother to invite their 'underlings.'

Damned if it didn't feel good to be out under that yoke. He toasted to no one in particular and downed the drink.

Etiquette demanded he greet his counterparts the Field Marshal or Grand Admiral, but as Vayyrel had wandered off to mingle with a group of other former-Sith captains Cyrus was tempted to ignore protocol and instead he found himself meandering through the crowd in pursuit of an Atrisian woman who looked extremely familiar, though as usual he couldn't quite say why.

The crowd mostly parted before him, either out of deference to the uniform, his reputation, or perhaps simply the fact that he was sporting both his trademark scowl and a fifth drink in hand. Odd, he didn't quite recall grabbing one. Young officers and senior enlisted made up much of the representation at the ball. What did they think of their new Grand Admiral, he wondered.

Fuck them too, they could wonder and gossip all they liked. It was still his orders the followed and his wrath to deal with if they screwed up.

He reached where [member="Valessia Brentioch"] and [member="Sumiko Tanaka"] and addressing latter, said with only a very slight drunken slurring, "You look cursed fething familiar." Then he paused, waiting for a response, before interjecting a quick 'ma'am' almost as an afterthought.

 

[William Kerkov Sr]

He nodded in acknowledgement to the fleet admiral's statements, poor man. But such was the way of life, one moment your in a happy marriage, the next your divorced and trying to work out how to live like this even with a child. But it seemed his underling had someone new to address, it didn't bother the Grand Admiral, his job was to make discussion with as many people as possible, be a good role model of the First Order. Besides he had an old, friend of some sort, to talk with.

Kerkov began to make his way over when he saw [member="Viktor DuSang"] use the invisible magic that was the force. A chill ran down the naval officer's spine, force user, he thought in the most disgusted tone he could imagine. The space wizards that roamed the galaxy, horrendous, he hated the mere mention of them, much more the actual sight of a force user. They believe they had power, gifted by some extraordinary spirit to exert power over others, believing they were some how superior to others, regarding themselves as they were some sort of galactic policemen, or masters of all, or emperors of the karking universe. Slowly his mindset begin to fade to a memory, years, and years ago. No!, he thought, no he wouldn't let himself think of that, not ever again. Slowly he recomposed his mindset and ventured back on his journey to his old friend.

The Admiral followed [member="Lady Kay"] and her companion out on to the veranda, coming up behind her making a friendly gesture, "Ah, Lady Kay, how good is it to see you, and," he looked questionably at the force user, "I have not met you before have I? Well I am Grand Admiral Kerkov, of the First Imperial Navy. I presume you are apart of the order of the Ren?"

 

[Komo]

Greta was in quite the pile of mess. Not only was she beyond fashionably late, and without a date, she was now almost about to miss the pledge saying if her predictions and estimations were anywhere close. Her current situation may have been the mess, but fortunately, that was the only thing of hers in disarray. Her black military dress uniform was immaculate as always, freshly washed and pressed not too long before the ball tonight. Her hair was neatly arranged into a bun and atop it rested a dress cap with the first order's insignia. Getting off a speeder filled with a bunch of assorted military personal and event attendees who were just as late as she was, the young officer began to make her way towards the hotel. Just as she was about to enter, the loudspeakers and holo-screens at the entrance began displaying a screen of none other than [member="Valessia Brentioch"] herself in a podium dressed with First Order livery, all ready to begin the pledge reciting. Greta took a small sigh of relief. She may have missed being in the ballroom with the rest, but she was just in time for the pledge itself.

As the pledge began, she said the words with much gusto, raising her arm in the air, fist clenched in the way of the salute of the First Order. The rest of the military personnel in the vicnity did the very same along with a good number of non-military attendees. With the pledge over, Greta made double time into the Inveraray ballroom. She had received the message by Captain Roderick, but given her lateness, the young officer had no doubt that the rest of the squadron was already somewhere scattered in the ballroom. After moving around for a bit, while looking around for the rest of the team, Greta happened to pass by a rather suave looking chap who looked perfectly fine, and that earned him a smile and a wave, before she was off again, brushing past him as her gaze landed upon the Captain and Nils with their dates. She had no date. "Captain! My apologies for the lateness!But better late than never right?" The two men would find their fellow officer rather flushed and flustered despite being so neatly dressed.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]​

 

[Darth Caecus]

If someone had, at any point in the past, told her that one day, the karking Emperor would pick her up by the waist and twirled her around she would have laughed in their face and called them something impolite.

As it was, as the room spun around them, she wondered idly if she was slipping, or if the time in the cryocrèche had done something to her. Because if anyone else had ever attempted what [member="Avicus DuSang"] was doing now, they would have found her thumbs levering out both of their eyes. Then again, those reflexes were still there- she was just too flabbergasted by the who to offer violence. And, there was that little fact of this particular who.

She stood still as a statue as he set her down, starring up at him like she was seeing a ghost. In a way, she may as well have been.

His voice saying her name had jarred her deeply. Though they had rarely interacted personally, the difficulty she was having separating herself, Zee, with the original Xyra was fractured, a dozen tiny cracks in that glass she'd set up between her and the monster. She couldn't see them, couldn't feel them yet over the other, louder emotions. But they were there. The separation was too new, too tentative. Too weak yet.

"My lord," she whispered, struggling to get her control back. "I was told you were-" The word dead hung in the air, unspoken but heavy between them.

No. She had assumed it.

It was a good thing that he had not required her to bow or kneel all those years ago, or she would have, right there and then.

She had never lied to him. Even through a lie of omission, and she wouldn't start with one now. But standing here, looking up at him, how could she tell him she wasn't who he thought she was? She settled her mind, slipping in to thought patterns and formality that fit her like a glove. Even as she said the words, the distant coolness of her mannerisms was everything Xyra Sizhran had ever been.

"My lord, I'm not Xyra Sizhran. She told you of her Shiva Protocol. I am one of the copies they made. I'm sorry."

Of course, she didn't know yet that he was anything but Emperor. It would get awkward here in a moment.​ Especially introducing him to [member="Cait Falcor"]

For your sake, I wish I was.

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

Unbeknownst to [member="Marzena Choi"], Ludolf had caught her expression of exasperation and dismay as Ms. Brentioch announced the presence of her rival, Anna Yun. Marzena may have been able to fake a smile for many, but Ludolf was not one of them. He had been trained to read body language, and even years after his training, he felt as though he knew Marzena well. Still, he said nothing, stoic and cold as always, and held his date's hand and guided her towards the raffle table.

Ludolf was busy writing his name down at the table, his broad back to Marzena, when suddenly his voice carried over to her ears.

"She can't sing as well as you, you know," He said nonchalantly, almost matter-of-factly, still not looking at her. Finally, he turned around and smiled.

"There. I've entered both of us in the raffle. Now, let's say hi to Valessia."

Ludolf also would have told Marzena that she had a better figure than Anna Yun, whom he found rather dull in appearance and hopelessly flat-chested to boot, he would have explained. But Ludolf refrained from such vulgarities, and only kept Marzena's hand wrapped tightly in his own as a display of his guarded affection for her. Across the ballroom as the waltzes began, he spotted [member="Valessia Brentioch"] along with [member="Sumiko Tanaka"], a woman who bore features similar to Marzena, perhaps Atrisian in origin. Field Marshal Vaas crossed the ballroom floor and held his free gloved hand up to her.

"Valessia?" He offered a congenial smile with Marzena at his side. "Good evening. I just wanted to say, you've done a wonderful job here thus far tonight."

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

When the waltzes had begun, Valessia had taken off to take care of a few back order issues. From there she was moving across the ballroom thanking dignitaries and officers for coming to the ball. She had been informed that the lady she had spotted before was in fact, [member="Lady Kay"], President of... Commenor, huh. Brentaal IV was practically a next door neighbor, she made a mental note to hunt her down later and thank her in person for arriving. In the meantime, it didn't take the Scion too long to track down her beau, [member="Sumiko Tanaka"]. Taking a breath she grabbed a flute of champagne off a nearby tray, "how was I?" She asks referring to the speech, "not overly dramatic I hope."

Valessia was hoping she had hit the right note with the crowd she tugged her dress down and rolled her neck, "remind me to ask you for a massage tonight, my neck is killing me." She half way complained and then she thought she spotted [member="Marzena Choi"] and [member="Ludolf Vaas"] over by the raffle table. "Ah, Field Marshal Vaas - just promoted, and probably the only First Order contracted pop star, Marzena Choi." She said as she spotted the couple heading their way. Val placed her half-empty flute on another roaming tray.

The hostess took the hand offered to her and shook, in a manner befitting of Vaas' station. "Thank you, Field Marshal Vaas - and please if there is anything you need, or if you need Lady Choi, please do not hesitate to ask. Hopefully, tonight's little ball will raise enough money to erect a few more memorials from Avalonia all the way to Kalast City," Kalast City was the Fourth City on Dosuun, after Victoria, Prosperia and of course the crown jewel, Avalonia. "Field Marshal Vaas, Lady Choi this is Lady Sumiko Tanaka, my plus one for the evening."

She didn't dare say, girlfriend. One neither one of them knew what it was they were to each other. Two, they cared for one another and for now that was all that mattered, "Lady Sumiko Tanaka, this is Field Marshal Vaas and Lady Marzena Choi."

 

[Progflaw99]

Rolf smiled genuinely at the Colonel. He could tell the man would much rather be elsewhere without much effort but, the facts remained the same. He was here. Rolf secretly wondered if he'd been told he had to attend, it wouldn't have surprised him. As the woman he'd originally walked over to engaged the Colonel in some discussion, a movement near the door caught his eye. Another pilot? They seemed to be multiplying. As the woman got closer, he heard the Colonel and the Flight Officer behind him still talking but their words had turned to background noise. Who... was that?

As the woman brushed by, had she just waved? It certainly seemed like it. He stood like that for a second, kind of stunned before looking over his shoulder. Nope, didn't look like it was to anyone behind him. That was interesting. As he turned back around, he saw her make her way over to the group of pilots that had arrived earlier. He smirked. Rolf quickly knocked back the remainder of his wine, swishing it slightly before swallowing the alcohol. He turned to the pair next to him, politely excusing himself.

"Well, I've got to go get a refill." He dangled the empty cup in the air. "Excuse me Sir, Ma'am." He nodded to each of them before moving his feet, heading towards the bar.

Rolf wasn't much of a gambler. He liked to take calculated risks, at least that's what he liked to call it. You couldn't consistently rely on blind faith or taking a roll of the dice but you could reduce your chances of getting burned if you paid attention and made the right calls. A lot of it had to do with reading people, through body language, facial expressions, tactics, it was all an extension of the battlefield really, except this type of battlefield required a certain type of... what shall we say, finesse.

Motioning to the attendant at the bar, he ordered himself up another whiskey instead of wine, leaving a few credits in the palm of his server. Leaning in close, he whispered to the bartender and then stood with a raised eyebrow. The attendant met his gaze, also raising an eyebrow and extending a hand. Rolf grinned, leaning down and tugging up the bottom of his pant-leg. Such was the cost of looking great, you had to keep your pockets empty. Retrieving a small credit stick, he passed it to the man and waited. The attendant gave a bow and disappeared into the back.

When he returned, he returned with a tray of glasses and a large bottle of... was that what it appeared to be? It was hard to tell, the bottle was wrapped with a towel, but if someone with extensive knowledge of liquor were to catch sight of it they would know exactly what it was and just how expensive it was. Rolf took the tray of glasses and bottle and lowered the tray to his chest. Holding it out in front of him, he moved very carefully through the bodies, weaving in and out of the masses on his way towards his goal. He had come up on the small cadre of pilots silently but as he approached, he dragged his foot slightly.

"Ladies, Gentlemen." He set the tray down on a small standing table next to the group. "I hope you all are enjoying yourselves, I've taken the liberty of providing a round of drinks on me. Forgive me Sirs and Ma'am, Sergeant Rolf Amsel, at your service."

He bowed slightly, standing and retrieving the towel wrapped bottle and holding it out for them to see. Subtly he slid his fingers down the neck of the bottle, making eye contact around the group as he spoke.

"Tonight I wanted to thank you all, pilots of the First Order." He looked at them, winking quickly at the woman who'd given him a wave as she'd entered. "I'm sure my squadmates would say the same. We may give you a bit of flak from time to time, but we appreciate the air support."

By now the towel had shifted, revealing the label.

Spoiler

Corellian Amber

He waited for a moment, grinning. He was honestly as excited as any of them, if they knew what it was they were looking at. He assumed the Captain might, his mustache speaking volumes of class. If not, he would have to explain it to them, and that would just take all the suspense and drama out of it. Expertly, he picked up the corkscrew from the tray, digging it into the cork. It was a well known fact that whiskey corks were far less tight than wine corks but with a beverage as expensive as the one he had just purchased, Rolf wasn't taking any chances. Was the purchase self centered? You bet it was, but at the same time he did have a certain respect for fighter pilots.

"I've procured something for us that's not exactly on the shelf tonight." He chuckled to himself.

After removing the cork, he reached for a glass, gently pouring the amber liquid into the tumbler. With a friendly smile, he handed the first glass to the brunette pilot who'd more or less just arrived, if she'd take it.

"And the first one to you Ma'am"

Another sly wink followed. After handing her the glass he continued filling glasses, making sure to fill enough for any of the small group who wanted some.

[member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] | [member="Sioux Chambers"]​