Floating Peace

[Ahron Rol]

Ahron stopped when she heard the voice. Ma'am. Was never good to be called Ma'am suddenly at one of these events. It usually meant people were getting suspicious. While she wasn't really doing anything horrifically suspect. Aside from asking a waiter about a spice den, and telling them to leave her weapons alone. Or her taking drugs? They were sedatives, and she wasn't being obnoxious about it! Oh well. She was going to have to deal with this without being thrown out. That would just be embarrassing. Then again, maybe it would liven the party up...

She turned around and looked over the woman, swaying back and forth, stumbling backwards a few steps. "Well! Uh, Ma'am," She said, working her jaw slightly as if she had a dry mouth. "Never really felt myself to be a Ma'am," She added with a toothy smile. "Though you can call me Ahron! How are you?" She asked, taking two steps forward, seemingly off balance the entire time. It was a strange ordeal. "You seem upset. Annoyed? I can definitely sense a strong irritation off you, and you don't exactly look like one of the rich patrons of the party..." She mumbled, crossing her arms and resting her tail on the ground, using it like a third leg to stop herself from swaying so much. "Annoyed guard who isn't paid enough to deal with the pomposity and idiocy of the upper class. Would I be correct?" She asked with a raised "brow", if it could even be called that. She was a lizard. She had no eyebrows. She did how a brow bone though. Ah well.

 

[Srina Talon]

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Location: Ballroom [Edge - Near a Viewing Portal]​

Wearing: X - X​

Tag: [Open] + [member="Aryn Teth"]​

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This was not the event that Srina had anticipated. Their excursions with the New Republic had left her bitterly damaged, full of regret, and emotion that the young Echani tended to bury beneath layers of cold indifference. She moved through the Congress of Confederate States as if some otherworldly being controlled her like a puppet, manipulated with strings, over actually moving of her of accord.

Why?

She was required to be here. Her efforts to stay the bloodshed for Kuat before it became unbearable had failed in the utmost sense of the word. It had cost her, those she loved, and even [member="Sankt Yora"] more than she had ever anticipated. [member="Darth Metus"] had temporarily died in her place. [member="Aryn Teth"] had nearly died because of her foolish need to try and preserve life. Copero had a price. Zonmira, had a price. Eshan. Kuat. Were these really victories when the sum of their efforts seemed to mean so little?

True, at the very least, her promise to restore the rings of the orbital shipyard that belonged to KDY would be upheld. The funds and manpower had been secured long before the Inquisition. Now, it was simply a matter of getting it done. The disaster that had become Kuat was something that that New Republic had sat on, for nearly seven years, while placing a colorful bandage over what was truly a hemorrhaging wound. This world required surgery and precision, not, ignorant childminding while it bled out on a poorly conceived ideal.

New representatives of the drive yards were rumored to be passing through. Interesting. Silver eyes swept over those she didn’t know, which, with the open invitation left that number incalculable. With that in mind, her travels through the densely populated ballroom were more tactical, than openly friendly. She remained on the outer-ring of the hall. If someone was looking for a shining face to greet them; that was not she. Srina was not a noble, not a politician, and scarcely even deserved the position that she retained.

She was a warrior and a Daughter of Eshan. The latter, over the former, simply tricked the casual observer well enough that they couldn’t tell the difference. Echani excelled at three things. General combat, the value of speaking without words, and deliberate illusion. They liked to distance themselves from the Mandalorian presence that had darkened their halls, but most knew, that they weren’t so different. They were every bit as inventive and bloodthirsty.

Echani simply looked better doing it. They were the epitome of violence, kissed with a blessing of feigned aristocracy.

The young woman eventually settled near one of the transparisteel viewing portals. Half of her face remained hidden by a porcelain mask, damaged, from the explosion on Kuat. The bacta soaked bandages kept infection from setting in and aided in the healing process, but still, she was not yet herself. Her anger had risen, strangely, and with no end in sight. Her typical glacier calm had all but evaporated. Something had changed. Broken. It was still in the process of rebuilding.

The woman that she had been was no longer the woman she would be. It was a blessing.

And a pity.

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

Pale eyes narrowed with concern as she watched the lizard female sway back and forth. Was she all right? What sort of pills had she popped but moments ago? Were they the ones to cause this, or did they come in addition to more? Aoife had a strong feeling that the answer lay in the latter theory.

"I shall call you Ahron then," she said gently, giving the lizard a smile. Perhaps a friendly approach would keep the female from going into a pill-induced manic attack. The Archivist wished she could've known which pills they were and what their effect was.

"Yes, I am on Guard duty this evening," she nodded at Ahron's assessment, "which is why I came to you. You may not like the rich patrons of the party but my dear… Tonight, you are one of them."

Gently smiling again, Aoife motioned for Ahron to turn around and take a look at the rest of the hall. "Even if you will not be donating this night, you are part of the delicate weave that will make others with more financial means donate. The more they have fun, the deeper they shall pull into their pockets. The Confederacy is working very hard to try to amend some of the damage that had been caused by its actions. Our actions were just, but that does not mean we must accept collateral lives or damage to remain as such."

Stepping a little closer, watching for any subtle hints in Ahron's body language that would cause her to take back a step, Aoife nodded, "Is that not something worth being part of?" she asked her, "why don't you join the revelries, Ahron? You seem like the sort that can do so much better than pill popping in neglected hallways."

 

[Ahron Rol]

Ahron, strangely, didn't move in any way that would put off her feeling threatened. If anything, she just coolly stared, her face scrunching up a little. She was thinking about what this woman exactly was saying, particularly. Some of it could be downright offensive! But... Where there was offense, there was the opportunity to make people uncomfortable. Now Ahron leaned a little closer. "The point is for these people to have fun?" She asked, looking around slowly. "They seem to be having a hard time figuring that part out," She added. "Though, while I could help in the manner you are suggessting, I don't know if they exactly want me dancing on a table..." She added, her whisper going louder, but more 'hushed'. "Twi'Lek's are better at it anyway," She added with a sly wink.

"Now as for your second comment," She continued, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a bottle. "On my pill popping," She said, shaking the bottle, then looking at it. It rattled as if it had a good amount of tablets in it. "You are making an implication as to why I do it, which I find entertaining. Gods forbid I actually were a rich donator, your comment may have driven me to retract my donation!" Ahron said, letting out a gasp. "And then all the dead people wouldn't get their money!" She frowned, bringing her hands up to her muzzle, looking at Aoife with pouty eyes. "Then how will they buy dead hookers and dead deathsticks?" She sniffled.

Then the act dropped. "I pop these pills, because despite how awesome I am at hiding it, I am under an excruciating level of pain all the time, and if I didn't pop these pills like candy I would be on the ground screaming and wailing like a little child being forced to have their limbs amputated without any form of anesthetic or numbing agent. I don't know about you, but in my own personal opinion, how I am right now is far less destructive to your cause then what I would be without the drugs..." She smiled again, just as broadly.

 

[Azura]

Moments later the guards lowered their weapons, eying the blueberry chiss cautiously talking amongst themselves low enough that Azura could not hear them. After some deliberation one guard scrolled through the names on his data pad, tongue tied he failed to pronounce her name and simple called out .


“Azura” and motioned for her to follow.


“Well I was wondering when you would notice my name my name on your data pad.” Winking she followed suit. Down what seemed to be an endless corridor they opened two swinging doors and pointed in the direction of the ballroom.With a wink she smacked one of the guards on the buttocks before leaving their presence.


Strolling through the gala she walked by a server helping herself to a drink, gently sipping its contents. As her role in life as an operative she took notice of every detail, exits, how many guards, where they were statically placed. How they were armed and which course they took. If things got hairy how would she escape and alternate routes albeit through the duct system or even floor panels. Azura had always had to have a backup plan. All she need now was to find someone to talk to.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Location: Ballroom - Mezzanine
Tag: [member="Gerwald Lechner"]

Naedira discretely adjusted the way her patterned dress fell over hips before moving to pick up the second drink from the very helpful bartender. She was bothered, at least a little, by the lack of weaponry on her person. Many of the Knights Obsidian that had been keeping long hours had been ordered to take the evening for themselves. Most of the time, she fought it, choosing to save her comp time for later…But a friend needed guidance.

Somewhere, in the void, she could feel [member="Alkor Centaris"]. The Knight could tell general direction and knew that he was on the Capital Space Station but, for the moment, she left him be. In the days that had passed since Eshan she had spent almost every waking moment glued to the former bucket-head who was, in all fairness, likely glad to be free of her. Naedira wouldn’t say that she was fond of him, exactly, but he was a constant. She liked when things ran slow and steady. Consistent. Change tended to leave her on edge. “Well…In one hand I have a fairly sugary Tatooine Sunset and the other a lovely Corellian Whiskey. Guess which one is yours?”

[member="Gerwald Lechner"] cleaned up with the best of them when he wanted too. Nothing too fancy, but, just enough to rub elbows with the social elite and not cause a ruckus. He was leaning on the railing overlooking the ballroom below and she came to stand beside him. “Credit for your thoughts?”

The dark-haired woman, clad in a champagne colored number, offered him his choice of beverage. The options were varied but she wasn’t entirely sure which Gerwald preferred. Naedira, if she had a choice, always went after a Whyren's Reserve whenever possible—But she wouldn’t mind the little umbrella in a girly drink either. She had seen how the “charity” was going. Wasn’t it sort of rigged for success when the Confederacy had already pledged to donate what was needed to try and mitigate some of the damage that had been done?

“You know—You could go down there and dance if you wanted. You don’t have to hide up here with me. Dance a little. Schmooz.”

Naedira had her reasons for staying away from the crowd. Her hair was a flowing cascade of auburn silk, winding into loose waves, and her make-up was solid, for a girl that spent most of her time stabbing things, but it was mostly for show. She wanted to support the effort that was taking place. Eshan…Eshan had been a nightmare that she’d had difficulties waking up from. It was impossible to stop seeing the capital ship fall, blown to pieces, and doubly impossible not to remember the way that Centaris had used his abilities.

Dark Jedi, her lovely, perfect derrière.

That man was a full on Sith, disguised as a Mandy, disguised as…Something else. It was weird, but, he was effective and handy in a fight. Moreover, he seemed like he wasn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon. Naedira thought better of him for it. “It’s been a long few months. We need a break, at least, for a little while. I’m as happy to collect the OT as anyone but hazard pay isn’t what it used to be when people are literally dropping star ships on your head.”

She went quiet for a long moment to study the Wolf-Man’s profile. Most of the time, truly, she could read him fairly well. Today was different. She couldn’t tell if he was happy, sad, or just distracted by all the fancy ladies in skirts twirling down on the level below.

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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The Ballroom, Congress of Confederate States, Neutral Space​

Attn: [member="Srina Talon"]​

It had been less than a full week since Aryn had been pulled out of the coma he had been placed into following the injuries he sustained on Kuat. The efforts that the Ministry of Science had gone to in conjunction with the Ministry of Secrets to ensure Aryn's recovery through a significant nano-augmentation process had been a closely-kept secret up until this point, yet it seemed the talking heads had seen fit to utilise the event aboard the Congress of Confederate states as a kind of reveal for the advances their scientists had made in nanotechnology. Of course, this was not a public display but Aryn had been encouraged in his invitation to mingle with the guests from other governments in the hopes that the nanites running through his body would attrack investment or interest in future projects.

The politics of it all ensured that upon actually arriving, Aryn was just as disinterested as the woman he had arrived with. The extent of the mingling that Aryn had done throughout the evening had been with [member="Srina Talon"], and he very much intended to keep it that way. Aryn was certain as she was that the so-called 'victory' on Kuat was perhaps not such a perfect victory, indeed the drive yards were being repaired, but war had come to Kuat when they had tried to prevent it.

As for that war - Aryn still wasn't quite sure he knew exactly who started it, either.

Slowly he wandered away from the crowd proper, towards the viewing portal his Echani bride-to-be had settled herself by, a pair of glasses in his hands brimming with a faintly bubbling golden liquor. As he walked, he felt as he always did - the hearts of those around him beating, the flow of the force around the room, through all of the living things that populated it. It was not an uncommon feeling, but it was muted, since the completion of his augmentation it had constantly felt suppressed, suffocated. Of all the links he could feel, only one felt as it always had, the ever constant bond between himself and Srina.

Making his way over, he gently settled beside her, outstretching one of the glasses towards her and allowing the tips of his fingers to brush against her hand gently as she took it. For a moment he cast his gaze out the viewing portal as she did, before focusing his eyes back upon her masked face. Carefully he brought his hand to her face, settling it upon her exposed cheek as he gently turned her head so their gaze would be locked together. He did his best to ignore the faint blue glow along his veins, accentuated as it was by the dim lighting as he flicked his gaze towards the mask again. "You're still hurt..." He spoke more to himself than anything, he had of course seen the mask on her face when he had awoken, but the visible sight of her pain bothered him - in that moment - even more than the nanites trailing through his body.

Regardless of how severe his injuries on Kuat had been, he did not regret them - he had taken them so as to ensure Srina would not be in his place to take them instead, but she had still been hurt despite all of his efforts to prevent such a thing. Indeed, it had been simply another reminder to Aryn Teth that he had not always been able to protect Srina Talon, as a Jedi, or simply a man, he had simply not been strong enough. He was stronger now - though in an altogether different way, but still he was unsure it would be enough.

Trailing his hand down towards her chin, he dipped towards her and brushed his lips against her exposed cheek. He knew that she had no desire to be there, and so he sought to offer whatever comfort he could, but so long as the knowledge and feeling of her wound bothered him, even he could not be comforted fully himself. "Allow me to see to it - as you did mine." It was a request, though spoken with the kind of determination that made it seem like there was only one true answer. Long ago, their roles had almost been perfectly reversed. In a ballroom on Leritor when he was the one hiding his injury behind a mask, she had used the force to heal him. Aryn understood that his connection to the force was not what it was, how long his utilisation of it would last remained to be seen, but he knew he could call upon its powers still.

Using the last of it up to heal what he could not prevent was more than a worthy way to let it go, in his eyes.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Ballroom
Wearing: Dress
Tags:

Peace was a lie.

Scherezade knew this to her very bones. A Sith, a scion of three powerful Sith legacies, more power in her little toe than man of her kind attained with years of training, there was no question about whether she knew or even understood how true that was. Countless of faceless people and creatures had died, whether by her hand or her blade, and the bullets on that list grew at an exponential rate. She never cared much for who was on it; she was a Warrior, and she left a path of dead wherever she went.

And yet she could not deny that her heart longed for peace. No, not that lie of nations that did not war, not that filth about lack of will for violence on all ends. Inner peace. That was what she lacked. It had been a while now since her return from the space between dimensions, a return from her attempt to kill herself, and yet even now, even without the liquor, there was no inner peace. She had tried for so long to keep herself busy, throwing herself from one mission into the other, tossing herself between taking care of her true sister and doing other things that needed doing, and still… When the moments came for being alone, that was when she felt it. Or didn't feel it. Depended on your point of view.

And yet here she was. Because Scherezade, naïve, broken, drunk, sorta dead, and alive again, was always everywhere within the Confederacy. Parties, missions, wars, it was rare that the blood hound missed a beat. She hadn't truly wanted to come though; it had been her sister, [member="Madalena Antares"], that had dressed her and forced her into it, only to leave her within moments of the both of them arriving. And because she'd promised to smile that evening.

Once inside the ballroom, Scherezade quickly took a nibble of expensive cold cuts and a glass of something that most definitely did not contain liquor, and inched herself to a wall. People were already there, and the dancing was beautiful. Nibbling on a cube of cheese, she just looked at them, her eyes looking for someone who might want to be dancing with her too.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

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Location: Ballroom
Wearing: This
Tags: [member="Madalena Antares"]

Cardinal was more than sure he was going to kick [member="Uthixo Nazim"] ass after this ball. It had been enough of a pain for him to have his first suit tailored. The second had been even more expensive because of the fabric he needed no longer being in stock. Still, it was a small sum compared to the few hundred thousand dollars in damages and medical fees that he had paid for that evening. Luckily the position of Dominus Prime comes with a handsome salary that Cardinal barely ever made a dent in.

He arrived on the world with Madalena, as they planned to depart for Sandala the next day. It was something that had kept the Dominus Prime in a very good mood the last few hours. Ever since the two had been reunited they were eager to go through with their plans to take some time away from The Confederacy. For Cardinal, it was far more necessary, but to have Madalena with him made it that much better. He had been off to have his hair cut before the ball, it was freshly trimmed and his dye had even been reapplied to the tips of his curls. The suit he wore was another fashioned out of a mind for his heritage. A black silk that hugged his body, almost too closely for such an event, it was decorated in a number of colors and shapes, mostly blue and yellow, but some splashes of orange and green as well.

A rather eccentric suit, but one he enjoyed none the less.

When he arrived, he was quickly greeted by a servant, offering him a tray of champagne. He waved his hand to the man, maybe in a bit he would enjoy something to drink, but not just yet. When he turned into the main area he was greeted by Madalena. The beautiful white dress she wore caught his eyes first, and for a moment he simply stood there enjoying the sight of her and savoring the fact that he knew she was his and his alone. He approached her with a happy tone, smiling at the woman as he did. "I'm glad I'm not late. Missing even a second of you wearing that would just be a crime." He told her as he took her hands, placing a brief kiss on the woman's lips. "How are you, my Yua?" He asked with a certain sincerity.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

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Wearing: xxx​

w. [member="Naedira Darcrath"]​

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He had promised that he would be dressed in a suit, but Gerwald said nothing about a tie when he agreed to pick Naedira up for the charity event. Gerwald hated parties, but the woman who was something of a mentor and friend had insisted he go to make an appearance. So much of his time had been spent looking for the truth about his own species and dealing with the fact Katrine was missing, yet again, that Gerwald had neglected much of his duties as Knight Obsidian. Sure he had gone on a few missions that allowed him to work with his sister or another person here or there, but the group missions he had stayed out of. That meant he had not been there when his friend had seen the ship crash into Eshan. As the wolf of a man looked out across the dance floor a twinge of guilt ate away at him for continual selfish decisions.

His eyes also settled on the other reason he had been absent. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] was alive again. Gerwald had played a part in it, motivated by some kind of recompense for breaking her heart in the first place. It would be a lie to say he had never loved her, anyone who had known them have called them on it as well. It was odd to have been told she was dead and having moved on from the entire ordeal only to find that she was not dead. His life had only gotten more complicated by leaving Stewjon, and so the Lupine did what he had always done when he was confused. He withdrew. This time he did not abandon his sister at least, who seemed to be enjoying herself from the vantage point he could see.

A feminine voice pulled him out of the position and stare he had adopted as he waited for the woman to return with the drinks she had suggested she would get. Strong arms pushed his massive frame off the railing as he turned to greet the brunette with a half smile.

"Let me guess, you have brought me the sugar filled frilly drink?"

He reached for whatever it was Naedira was going to put in his hand as the man let out a soft chuckle.

"I am sure you would be bored with my thoughts anyway," he said before taking a sip of what had been offered. "And you know better than anyone I am much happier up here, away from the rabble. Besides," Gerwald was about to lie, "I don't dance." Of course that was not true. For a large man Gerwald was surprisingly agile, but ever since he had left Madalena's mind, the holding place, or whatever it was that Scherezade had been trapped in, Gerwald no longer had the desire to. There was a weight he carried knowing parts of him needed to change, and it only pulled him deeper toward the darkness that was calling to him. Whatever Gerwald was becoming, it was soon to be as black as the blade of his saber or the fabric of his ebony suit.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there... I don't know what I could have done had I been. I'm not as strong in the force as others yet, but..."

Ger let out a sigh. He should have been on Eshan, but instead he'd been who knows where, albeit still recovering from his own injuries. He had Madalena to thank for his life.

"I've been distracted lately."

 

[Rashae]

Location: Ballroom
tag: [member="Shran"]

There came a delicate blush that ever so slightly dusted those delicate high cheek bones. “Minister you flatter me. And you are quite charming. I must be on guard of those charms. They seem to be more potent then the war machines. “ She said with a bit of a delighted chuckle.

She would get a plate and look at the buffet. Rashae was not fond of buffets but she kept her face pleasant. She would pick very rare roast beef with roasted root vegetables and a horseradish sauce along side a Bearnaise sauce. She sat down as she got another drink that was a good Alderaanean red. Her favorite. It blended with beef so well.

Once she was seated and settled a napkin went on her lap before she started eating. Rashae would eat with very small bites with a surgeons precision in how she cut the meat to the small chew.

“So Minister Shran, what do you do other than being a defense minister. Im sure we could go back and forth with logistics all day. Logistics can be fascinating but shall we circumvent that discussion unless you really want to go into defense logistics while I go into science logistics?” There was the arch of a perfect eyebrow as the ball was thrown at him with a challenging expression.

 

[Madalena Antares]

Location: Entrance to the Ballroom
Wearing: This
Tags: [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]

There was no look that could compare to the one Madalena had on her face when her gaze befell on Cardinal and she realized how he was looking at her. She wanted to say that the dress had the desired effect on her man, but that would've been an incomplete truth; much of how he looked at her mirrored how she looked at him, something that went far beyond and deeper than clothes, than skin, than anything that could be as simple as limiting it to the physical realm of possibilities.

As he savored her with his eyes, shedid quite the opposite, closing the distance between the two. Her movements were so much lighter now thanks to the aid of the bracers, and she neither looked nor felt awkward as she half walked half ran into his arms, her own wrapping around him, cursing the time they had spent apart.

"You'll have many seconds of me not wear that," she purred the innuendo into his ear as she returned his kiss, her hands finding the bare skin of his neck to touch, to feel.

His Yua. When had he started calling her that? Madalena was unsure, but she loved it. The mere sound of it made her heart melt and she kissed him again. "Excited," she said, her body still pushed against his, without a care in the 'verse about who might see them now, "We're at a party, Cardinal. You and me. And I'm me this time. I want to dance, I want to sing, I want to eat and drink and then go back to your ship and give you reasons to stay awake until well after dawn."

Breaking the embrace after another kiss, Madalena took his hands in hers, "I can dance in this body. I tried it out on my ship. I can dance. Dance with me? Just one song, then we can do whatever you want to."

 

[Josiah]

Location: Ballroom, Aboard the Congress​

Tag: [member="Mara Denko"] | Open​

Wearing: Something New? Something Blue.​

Formalities were never their strong suit.

Now, that was not to say that the lightbearers who now graced the event were unable to conduct themselves. Rather, the circumstances of their lives had never afforded the opportunity to attend such galas. For Josiah especially, his life was typically dominated with locales far...rougher than the prim and proper before his eyes. Whether it be the Sprawl of Golbah City or Nar Shaddaa, the Jedi tended to orbit around the more sordid types of places. Moreover, his work never seemed to bring him anywhere that wasn't on fire.

But that was the lot he had cast in life. The warrior's path very seldom provided opportunities to indulge in "higher society" shindigs - even for a good cause. However. Since coming back into Mara's life, Josiah had made the time to make every moment count. There were simply far too many years to make up for - and frankly, there was truly no restoring the chasm of time that had passed. All that he could do was make the best of each day that he continued to draw breath. And that meant making memories. That meant breaking out of the comfort zone.

Thus, when the news filtered through the Confederate channels of a benefit, Josiah burned the credits for the two of them to attend. Oh, the look on Mara's face that morning was priceless. There she was, sipping her tea like usual when he sprang it on her - demanding that they go to the nearest metropolis for clothes shopping. Josiah deluded himself into thinking that the Researcher would have been out of her element...but he was dead wrong. Her eyes lit up like it was her life day, and before he knew it an entire day bouncing from store to store had occurred.

And he wouldn't have changed it for the world. In the here and now, the Jedi offered his arm as they strode into the ballroom. Light music wafted into his ears the moment they crossed the threshold, causing a light smile to bubble into being upon his face. "I think, and don't quote me here, the last time we danced was on our wedding day." he remarked, bemused. "Care for a round two? I promise I won't step on your toes...again."

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

[member="Ahron Rol"]

Aoife nodded. Yes, fun. While it was true that different people viewed fun in different ways, the bottom line remained that if the patrons who came to the ball that evening suffered rather than enjoyed themselves, it would translate into lesser donations for the restoration of the Rings of Kuat. But then came the offer of dancing on tables, "N-no!" the Archivist almost screamed, the shock clear on her face. "Not that there is anything wrong with dancing on tables," she quickly collected herself again, "but we want big donations. Not single credit chips."

As to the theory that the lizard woman in front of her was a rich patron… Aoife kept her face carefully neutral. Both of the ladies knew she was not. But now the Archivist knew why Ahron was taking them, and her neutral expression turned into one of compassion. "The Confederacy has access to some of the galaxy's best medical facilities and advancements," she said gentle, "perhaps you should consider joining us. It would give you full access to them. Can you imagine that? Living without the pain, and without the need to take pills just to be able to move around in public?"

 

[Ahron Rol]

Ahron looked at Aoife, admittedly ignoring the sudden and violent decline of her dancing on tables. She wasn't actually offering, hence her mentioning of Twi'Lek's, but at the same time, watching her try to backpedal out of the offence of being so... Direct with her refusal was amusing. What was also amusing, was the idea of the Confederacy being able to help her deal with the pain. That was rich. The thought actually made her laugh. It was a strange, sharp, chittering sound that emanated more from her chest than her throat. The Confederacy? Stopping the pain she suffered? A faction with that much power over the force was lying, or didn't exist.

"Help me?" Ahron asked, her tone slow as she stood up on her own two feet. "The technology of this faction may be of excellent quality, but what ails me is not a physical thing," She explained, pulling the silver lightsaber off her belt and idly tossing it in her hand, looking it over. "It is a curse of my species," She added, every time the lightsaber lost it's contact with her person, the presence of the force increased substantially. She then took Aoife's hand, and placed the lightsaber within it, keeping her own hand over it so that it was not taken from her.

As she did, the first thing Aoife would notice was that her connection to the force was seemingly gone. Silence. She could not feel it, she could not draw from it. She couldn't even see Ahron's force any longer. Then Ahron took the hilt back, and it all rushed back to Aoife, and the galaxy as she knew it was put back in order. "The very thing that makes me special is what causes me pain. With it, I will eventually die unless I can keep learning to suppress the effects. Without it?" Ahron smiled, laughing again. "Well, I would just as similarly die. So I must balance it. Just enough pain to survive, but enough relief I can function. Your technology cannot help me."

 

[Tanith Alde]

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A Xanti was a strange sight, at the best of times. Thedra's race wasn't exactly the best represented across the Galaxy, whether in terms of war or in terms of politics. This was do to a variety of reasons, one of the main ones being their kinds' Xenophobic and religiously Zealous attitudes toward most other species. So seeing a Xanti in a dress was an even stranger sight. Thedra's eyes scanned across the room, narrowing slightly when she focused on certain individuals. A natural warrior, her first instincts were of course to scan for any sort of danger. Her hand subconsciously grasped at her side, trying to tighten around the comfortable and familiar grip of a weapon.

Oh Right, She'd come unarmed.

A small sigh escaped her, or her species' equivalent of one, which was expressed by her mandibles spreading slightly, revealing rows of sharp teeth underneath. She shook her head, stepping into the room despite her misgivings about this social event. Her footsteps were loud, several hundred pounds of heavily muscular warrior certainly notable, even without her field gear.

Luckily, aside from her unusual appearance, she had little that would draw attention to her. It didn't take long for the atmosphere to become almost claustrophobic for her, and she felt the need for air. Making her way upstairs, she quietly slipped away from the main groups, out onto a balcony. This lead her to running almost face-first into two individuals, right as she rounded the corner.

[member="Eternal Virtue"]
[member="Ahron Rol"]

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

A curse of her species? Aoife blinked, a lightsaber placed in her hand. What did- oh. OH! The Archivist's discomfort at holding it was great. Aoife had been trained with the Force since a child. She lived it, she pretty much breathed it. And while she had been on missions in the past that had caused her to be temporary severed of it, she knew instantly the moment that lightsaber touched her hand that this was similar; to her, it felt like having her breath taken away for all the wrong reasons.

When [member="Ahron Rol"] took the damned thing away, Aoife let a sigh of relief out. That lightsaber hilt was dangerous. To think of it being tossed as a weapon into the hands of the Vicelord, an Exarch, or even the Dominus… It was beyond imaginable.

But as Ahron explained, Aoife could do little but shake her head. "You misunderstand me," she said gently, "there are ways to help with that as well. When I am not doing guard duty, I am an Archivist of the Knights Obsidian. We do research into matters such as these; we treat the Force as a tool, almost as a science. There is an answer for your pain, Ahron. You simply must be patient, and willing to search for the solution to it."

Pale eyes gazed at the ballroom beneath them. Much as Aoife wanted to remain, she had more duties that night to attend to.

"Think about it," she offered Ahron, "I will, in the meantime, make sure none of the other guards bother you about having the lightsabers upon you. But keep it out of sight, and do not engage in a violent encounter, or I will not be able to protect you. Enjoy the rest of the evening, Ahron."

With that, Aoife turned and left, almost brushing by [member="Thedra'Vazuum"]. While she did not pause and remained perfectly professional, the Archivist did let the memory of seeing such a large creature in that kind of a dress remain on the surface of her memories for several moments before her focus returned to her duties.

 

[Ahron Rol]

Ahron watched Aoife leave, shaking her head slowly, pulling her bottle from her belt. She dropped a tablet into her muzzle, looking at the hulking creature that was standing several feet away. Even at the distance, Ahron still had to crane her neck to look the... Woman? In the eye. She at least assumed it was a woman. She sighed, placing the cap back on the bottle. "So many new people to see," She said, turning to center her attention on the large alien.

"Aren't you a large one?" She asked, her voice slow and slightly slurred. "I take it you are unaccustomed to the low gravity of this planet," She chuckled, shaking her head. She looked the alien over a little closer, acknowledging the steel-like bands under her flesh. Do not let her grab you floated through her mind as she looked down at the closed bottle in her hands. Unless she is a friend, followed quickly after as she pulled the cap off and held it out. "Would you like one?" She asked, shaking the bottle. "Nothing illegal, not to worry, though you look stressed." She said with a toothy smile. A friend for a moment in this dull farce of a party, was better than what she had, even if it is only meant to be a fleeting moment.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Thedra tilted her head down to look at [member="Ahron Rol"] , which wasn't unusual for someone of her size to have to do. She was used to comments about her size, though she felt particularly...exposed in just a flimsy red dress. A far cry from the battle armor she considered herself most comfortable in. But she was being addressed. She considered a simple grunt in response, then realized she'd been invited her to S O C I A L I Z E.

She bit back whatever reply came to her first, the lower set of mandible clicking together for a moment as a subconscious expression of restraints. "It's has not bothered me." She responded, direct and very to the point with her answer. Not unfriendly, just, unskilled in the finer graces of conversation. Glancing at the offer bottle of pills, she shook her head. She wasn't the type to indulge in intoxicants, especially pills. Alcohol too was a rarity for her, that though was more do to how she spent her time, rather than any real preference about drinking it.

"Who are you?"

She asked, after declining the offer. Her tone came off as more gruff than probably intended, though she was at least trying, feeling she should at least make the attempt to engage in some sort of...mingling.

 

[Ahron Rol]

Ahron stared at the woman for a long moment, then shrugged, placing the bottle back into her belt with the cap on. "I understand. Not quite here by choice," she said, leaning back on her tail, using it a a kickstand of sorts. "I can appreciate that. Warrior types often are not masters of social combat. Nothing to be ashamed of," she sighed, lazily looking the woman over again.

Who was she? Implying that it mattered. "I am Ahron Rol. Not that it matters. I am no one of importance at least in the scope of this party," she sighed, taking a look around the room. "Though, I must commend you. Despite your... Aggressive manner in asking, you are the first person to bother asking at all," she said, a deep sigh escaping her muzzle. "Fascinating how a lack of social etiquette can often be the reason someone practices the basic foundation," she smiled. "And who are you? I don't believe you would appreciate being referred to as 'giant alien woman' unless that is your name..." Ahron paused, bringing a finger up to her muzzle in thought. "To which I would say it is most beautiful and unique, and should be proud of it."