Friends in Low Places [Protectorate]

[Sarge Potteiger]

Naboo
First Annual Protectorate Ball
Camp Lanthala - Protectorate Base Outside Theed

[member="Cira"] [member="Noah Corek"]
@ Protectorate Folk

It had been almost a year since he'd last had reason to wear his dress blacks, but that didn't mean he hadn't kept them. They'd been sitting in his condo in Coronet before he'd gone to Dagobah, along with his myriad ribbons and commendations.

He couldn't even remember what some of them were for at this point, but then again most of his time in the Pyre - save a few special occasions - were a blur.

But as he stood by the gate, moonlight streaming down from a clear summer sky, he couldn't help but feel a little bit at home at the base. Sure, he'd never been stationed here during his tenure, but the Protectorate military had a feel all it's own.

Smiling faintly, he adjusted the way his cover sat upon his head, shadowed black eyed gaze sweeping across the folk headed deeper into the base for the first celebration of the Protectorate military in the state's history.

He'd been reliably informed there'd be booze, dancing and - most importantly for some - cake.

But unlike most, he didn't like cake. Or rather, didn't like the icing on it. A sentiment shared by the woman he was with.

So far as most of the Protectorate was concerned, Sergeant Major of the OmegaPyre Potteiger was Missing Presumed Dead on Dagobah. But here he was, battered rank pins and qualifications polished and cleaned for whatever this was going to be.

His head turned slowly towards the thick defensive line leading up to the gate and he folded his gloved hands in the small of his back; the party he was escorting playing greeter to the soldiers streaming in with their own dates from the off base housing.

Cira and he had been on Naboo, enjoying the peace and quiet of their homes when it had been decided to have the celebrations at bases across Protectorate space. So, here they were.

Her, doing what she did best.

Him, shaved for the first time in nearly two centuries, revealing a face youthful enough to knock several years off of his appearance - were it not for the chewed look of his right cheek from shrapnel wounds sustained on Kashyyyk some time ago. That and the saber burn scar running horizontally across his throat.

Good times, that one.

He was suddenly self conscious and sighed. At least there wouldn't be civvies - not after that last terrorist attack. Wait... he was a civvie. Kark.

 

[Feena]

Feena had hardly been Queen of Naboo for a few days when she recalled that she had been invited to a ball. A ball! To think that her important work should be interrupted by...
Fun.
Well, at least nobody was trying to kill her this time. That was certainly something to look forward to. A night of peace. How many had tried to kill her in the last week? Three? She was pretty sure it was three. Well, more than usual in such a short time.She had to wonder why she was such a target. Was the position of Queen really all that desired that one would actually kill for it? It was only a four year term, after all! She would think the nobles of Naboo would have more patience.

As Feena (rather begrudgingly) let her handmaidens dress her for the ball, she wearily thought back to the conversation she had with her advisor.

'Majesty, we must discuss you wardrobe budget-'

'My what!?'
The new Queen looked up from her desk, staring at the nervous-looking man as if he had just grown a third arm out of his forehead.

'The monthly budget for your Majesty's wardrobe.'

'No, no, I heard you. I meant to ask why I need a budget for my wardrobe? Surely I can sign laws in my old gowns. I doubt how I dress will end child hunger and stop civil wars.'

'It is tradition for your Majesty to be dressed in the very latest fashions and-'

'Very well, then I'll pay for these 'latest fashions' with my own credits. There's no reason to use taxpayer money for something so... well, frankly, useless.'

'B-but it's the citizens duty to serve your majes-'
The new Queen held up a hand to silence him, but offered a gentle smile.

'It is a citizens duty to serve Naboo. The taxes collected from the people will not pay for my own personal wardrobe. I can think of a dozen things the credits can be used for instead.'

'...As you wish, Majesty.'

The nervous moustached man bowed low and left. Later that day, it was decided that Queen Feenarah would invest the credits that had been set aside for a new wardrobe (which was a fairly large amount) in paving new roads, and opening a museum. What sort of museum? A museum showcasing the history of Fashion on Naboo, of course. She'd already agreed to donate a considerable amount of gowns owned by previous rulers of the planet that were being kept stored away in the Palace.

While all this was well and good, when the Queen arrived at last to the ball, she was dressed less like a Queen, and more like one of her handmaidens. It was still a stylish gown, of course, not plain by any stretch of the imagination, but when compared to her predecessors who wore gowns just dripping with crystals, and pearls, and beads and feathers and fur from exotic animals, well, the entire look was a little disappointing.

She was dressed in one of her old gowns, one had had for years, slightly updated of course, to reflect the latest in modern dress design. The color was as if you took the freshest, pinkest rose from the garden and mixed it in a tub of buttercream. Such a faint pink that it was almost pure ivory. As was fashionable now, the bodice was fitted perfectly to her form, the neckline was high, and the sleeves were tight, coming to a point in the middle of her hand. Embroidered up the sleeves was silver ivy, dotted here and there with small beaded flowers. The skirt in contrast was rather plain, the same ivory as the bodice, with only a small beaded detail at the hem.
She wore no jewelry, save for the pearls and sculpted shells decorating her dark ebony curls, and the only detail that might give her position away was traditional white face make up. The make up, she had agreed to, even encouraged. The would wear the symbolic face of the Queen with pride, bear the symbolic scars of Naboo's past as was her duty.

When the last bit of makeup was on her face, when her hair was properly styled, she was wordlessly led to the ballroom. Even as Queen, she did not expect to be announced. She was the Queen who bowed to her people. Too much pomp was not her style. And this was not her ball, but this was her home planet. And it would be so very rude to ignore an invitation.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Mirra Darra]

*

 

[Nameless Knight]

This was a first and mostly if Knight thought about it the start of soemthing more, she wanted to have another ball and fun, wanted to build up morale. She dressed in her finest outfit and smiled looking at the mirror, she looked as good as she could given that she was shifting to keep her looks. Running around as Exarch doing what she could had brought her attention to more works of the CIS and after Naboo she had taken to carrying a pistol for protection and her sabers. Bodyguards as well since she didn't know how all of them got through Naboo to go after Feena.

Then she was walking down and to her cloud car taking off to go and meet the others, have her appearance as Exarch and welcome the newest queen without gunshots, swords or others coming. He headed off until she saw the place on her GPS and with another look in the mirror allowed herself a moment of peace and comfort. I am not going to get drunk at least. She thought toherself while spinning up the car faster and faster until she was parked outside and slipping out of the ship with a small smile. Going up the steps and pushing her hair behind her ears.

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Ilsa Voll"]
Noah looked at himself in the mirror as he straightened out his dress uniform jacket, making sure to smooth out any of the wrinkles that presented themselves. He had decided to wear this over a suit and two for two reasons, one being the fact that Noah didn't own a suit, or a tie for that matter, the other being just pure patroitism. Making sure to have all his ribbons, commendations and medals were straight before finally grabbing his beret and slipping it on, with his Pyre pin on it. Noah then looked on the bed, to his personal defense for the night, one of his Lazy Eye Merr-Sonn Power 5's and one of his Vibro Trench Knives, being a expert at hiding weapons on his person, Noah slipped his knife into a sheath on his ankle and slipped the blaster pistol into his shoulder holster, making both weapons nearly un-seeable unless someone looked VERY closely. Now all he had to do was wait for his date to call.

 

[Ilsa Voll]

[member="Noah Corek"]

Voll double checked her uniform in the hotel mirror and nodded once. It was a Protectorate uniform and denoted everything from unit to rank, but it had one minor difference. There were only two medals and one ribbon on the breast of the tunic. All three were Eisenwelten and the Twi'lek was allowed to wear them. She'd asked and been given permission by her CO earlier. One was a tiny, dull, iron cross. The other showed a little, iron-cast kampfpanzer surrounded by a laurel. They were for courage in the face of the enemy and for earning the right to command an Eisenwelten tank, respectively. The last was a tiny gold bar denoting a combat injury in the line of duty.

She tugged the uniform a little tighter and started heading downstairs to the lobby. Her ride was supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.

"Ich sagte ihm, hier um sechs Uhr... Wo in der Hölle ist er sein?" she muttered to herself.

Spoiler

"Ich sagte ihm, hier um sechs Uhr ... Wo in der Hölle ist er sein?"
"I told him to be here at six o'clock... Where in the Hell is he?"

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Ilsa Voll"]
Noah then decided to check his comm just in case and found that Ilsa wanted him to pick her up a six, taking a quick look at his chrono, he saw it was a quarter till. "Poodoo!" Noah exclaimed as he quickly grabbed his keys and quickly got to his speeder and sped away from his hotel. After ten minutes of making good time, Noah finally arrived at Ilsa's hotel. Getting out Noah walked up through the lobby doors and into the lobby. When he saw Ilsa, Noah walked up to her with a smile on his face. "Ilsa! Sorry, I didn't get your message until like ten minutes ago." Noah explained as he rubbed the back of his head, a bit of a blush on his face for almost being late.

 

[Keter]

Another year, another ball.

Keter sighed slightly, looking down at the polished tiles. How many feet had trod upon them? What history did they hold? He felt...old...for a moment. It was a grand ball, and he was acting all grumpy. The thought made him smile slightly. He was stanidng off to one side, away from the majority of the merriment. Young, old, the finest of persons across Naboo and Protectorate space had gathered here for some reason or other. It was immaterial - in the end, balls offered a chance to form new ties, new allegiances.

Politics. Feena's game, not his.

He could see her walking down the stairs, unannounced of course. A vision of loveliness in pure ivory. Keter often referred to Feena as his Queen, and seeing her now was like seeing proof of what he had believed for so long. Elegant, proud, powerful and yet humble. So many aspects to her. SHe could always surprise him. That is why he loved her. He felt his pulse quicken at the sight of her, and shook his head with a smirk. Well, here he was falling in love again like a teenager. He really was a lost cause, wasn't he?

There was Feena, a vision of art, and there he was, sulking around the edges of the light she radiated. He wasn't dressed anywhere near as nicely as his wife, but that was typical for him. He wore a pinstripe suit with black shirt and blood red tie that matched his eyes. No finery or gaudy decorations. He was no noble, no prince or king. He was just Feena's husband, and there was nothing else he would ever want to be instead.

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

When Naboo's Queen spotted her husband, she could not help but smile. Off in a dark corner, as always. But then he saw her too, and the dark brooding aura around him seemed to lighten. Even after all these years, it hadn't faded. Oh sure, their private time together was lessened considerably, but that was to be expected. Funny how he had predicted her role in the Galaxy with his silly nickname for her.

She held a hand up, and both her attendees stopped in their tracks and let the Queen walk ahead to join her husband.

"I was hoping you would come tonight, Mister Mason. You never disappoint."

[member="Keter"]

 

[Keter]

Mindful of his manners, Keter bowed to the Queen of Naboo. He couldn't keep a smile off his face though. "I wouldn't dream of it, your Highness," he replied before straightening. He nearly asked her if she was attending in an official capacity, but the makeup she wore had already supplied an answer. It was as much a mask as the ones he used to wear. "One does not just turn down an invitation from such royalty after all," the blond continued, his lips quirking into a smirk for the briefest moment. Actually, it was due to Feena he was present at all. Due to his personal interest in keepingout of politics, he never would have warranted an invitation to such an event if not for his wife wanting him to be there for her. "I am quite fortunate indeed to have recieved such an invitation. Maybe I'll push my luck later on tonight and even presume to ask for a dance," Keter idly observed. He wasn't exactly sure how much of her personal life Feena had revealed to...well, everyone, but no harm in playing as if it was an open secret.

Besides, it was all about fun tonight, wasn't it? And the two of them hadn't had some fun in a while...

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

The Queen had not taken any action to hide her relationship with her husband, in fact, her publicity team had been working overtime to paint the strange man in an almost heroic light. The idea had been that he would represent the Queens ability to love all people, regardless of their... faults. That was something Feena had not been very pleased with. Was there something about her husband that frightened people? She hadn't been able to see it herself at all.

Feena smiled behind the makeup and reached out to lace her arm through his.

"I will save room on my dance card," she teased, moving to have him walk with her. If approached, she would use this time to properly introduce her husband to the public. She would do this her way. The right way. No lies. No tricks.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Ilsa Voll]

"You are on time, so all is forgiven," she said with a shrug at his embarrassment. She gestured at the doorway with a spare hand. "Shall ve get going? You'll have to drive. I... don't have a license."

Why did a veteran tanker not have a license? Simple. Mostly. Kind of. Sort of. Voll didn't like to talk about it. She could drive tanks and armored vehicles easily and even pilot many starfighters and bombers with proficiency. Unfortunately, you couldn't drive a speeder or aircar like a tank. The police got mad. Very mad. Mad enough to take away someone's license. In this case, Voll's.

[member="Noah Corek"]

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Ilsa Voll"]
Noah shrugged, many people didn't have licenses, Noah of course had nearly gotten his license revoked on Fondor once in a incident involving a fender-bender, the cops, the fifteen kilos of pure, uncut baradium and military grade weapons he had in his trunk at the time, though after explaining who was and what he was doing with the weapons he was let go. "That's no problem." Noah informed her as he lead the way out of the building and into the open air, making sure to open Ilsa's door for her before getting in himself.

 

[Ilsa Voll]

Voll slid into the passenger's seat and buckled herself in. She was used to Zenti's driving. You had to be buckled in for that most of the time. At least when in combat. Usually. Mostly. Always. She had an odd crew. Effective, but ultimately very odd.

"Zhis ball," she started off. "It is for zeh military's founding or somesing like zhat?"

If it was anything like Founding Day for Eisenwelten regiments, this could be good. Usually, it was just typical partying and food and booze, but occasionally when two regiments had a Founding Day on the same day, which was very common as many units were founded at the same time in most cases (for ease of paperwork), there was usually a brawl. The brawl didn't happen often, but it wasn't uncommon. It really just depended on how bad, or good, the two regiments' relations were and how much alcohol both sides had ingested. No one really died, at least not often, but commanding officers hated it. Partially because they had to deal with the paperwork and punishment details, but also because they had to spend the next morning awkwardly explaining their units' behavior to the battalion officer while sporting new bruises, cuts, and missing teeth.

[member="Noah Corek"].

 

[Keter]

He tensed up slightly in surprise when she took his arm, but relaxed almost immediately, feeling a slight heat on his cheeks. Well, now he just felt out of place dressed as he was. Still, he covered his embarassment with a smile and polite nod. "Ah, the perils of leadership," he sighed in sympathy, "endless dancing." He let his qife guide him through her world, her stage. It was strange. He had been born a slave, and now he was married to Feena. Strange how life sometimes worked out. "I take it the princesses have settled in well to their new home?" he asked idly. Feena had of course tkaen her daughters along with her when she had moved to Naboo -time for them to recieve a civilised upbringing amongst other people. Keter had stayed behind on Immeria to take care of the fort that they had called home for so many years now. This was his first visit to his family in months. Oh how the tables had turned - now he would be the distant figure in his daughters' lives as they spent more time around their mother.

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Ilsa Voll"]
Noah mulled over his thoughts for a few seconds when Voll asked her question. "Truthfully, I'm not privy to the reason of this ball, I was mostly just told to come and look nice. Sort of a publicity thing for the Pyre." Noah told Ilsa as he lifted the speeder into the air. When Noah looked over he saw medals that he had never seen before and raised a eyebrow. "Where did you get those medals?"

 

[Ruuku Hollis]

Former Captain of the Galactic Republic Navy, Ruuku Hollis walked through the entrance. He wore an older Republic military dress uniform. He was sharply dressed with his head recently shaven and his jawline clean. By the appearance of his face, he was old with no doubts about it. At seventy-one, the naval commander was no green-as-grass boy. Yet he was as muscular of body and as fit of mind as any younger man. He was an experienced veteran and long-time war hero. At least, that status of 'hero' only applied within Republic space. He was thankful for that, he hated that some of the more desperate news agencies actually gossiped about his three remarriages. It was none of their business, and at least he wouldn't be scrutinised by bringing his new wife here with him. He was several decades her senior, but he didn't care. She wrapped herself around his offered arm, to this he smiled.

His chest was marked by nine ribbons. To the untrained eye who was not accustomed with the Republic navy, none could identify their meaning. Given the question, the Captain could answer such an inquiry to the dot with a hint of great pride. He entered the room with a great crowd of fellow ball-goers. He had recently resigned himself from the Republic Navy, finding their efforts in their military poor and lacklustre. Their war with the Sith was one that spanned countless millennium and would continue so. Nothing his small efforts in the Core could change that. Out here, he had a chance to make a difference, or so he believed. He looked around at the scenic architecture, admiring it for what it was. This was not his first rodeo, far from it. Sixty years of annual military balls had given him quite the belt of experience, but unfortunately he lacked friends here. This was a sector of space he was as of now, unfamiliar with. It had truly thrown the spanner in the works. He was unsure where to begin. After all, sixty years of attending balls and knowing a majority of the attendee's helped greatly. But his recent sign-up into the Protectorate Navy had not helped him to spy any familiar faces. He stood awash in the countless bodies that moved past with eager feet. Hollis and his wife stood there quietly, eyes darting here and there for anyone who seemed friendly enough to begin conversation with. A greeting tag sat above his ribbons...

​

@[member="Noah Corek"] | @[member=Keter] | [member="Ilsa Voll"] | [member="Feena Mason"] | [member=Knight]

 

[C.C]

His days always started slow. They didn't start late-- he awoke with the earliest riser in the lower recesses, which was to say at the crack of dawn. The early risers tended to prepare themselves quickly and leave early to do their duties. He would follow them in their rituals to a point, being of aid when he could, otherwise just providing company, a gentle reminder of steps they may have forgotten. He'd awake from his position...The air in the mornings was cold, it always bit at his nose and clung to his skin. He was always cold...

It was part of his own private ritual. So many steps he'd learned in his all too short life, things designed to keep him healthy in body, soul, and mind. Ever since he was young, still on his mother's teat, he'd practiced certain techniques. It was an act of balance, an equalizer. He stuck to routine as often as he could, an upstart threatened much worse than a bad start to a day. Since before birth he'd suffered from a debilitating condition, something that made him different from his rambunctious prison members. If they could even be called that.

The boy's heart beat differently than others if at all. He'd known this almost as soon as he began to have conscious thought. His mother was a rock, her heart beat was steady and slow. As early as he could remember, he could remember sinking into the sound of it, wrapping himself in the comfort of her life-giving breath. Even now, he took every opportunity that presented itself to fall asleep with his head cradled against her bosom. The thought of seeming childish never entered his mind.

Each morning he sank into himself the way he had sunk into his mother. His breathing grew slow, controlled. Each breath was deep, filling his chest cavity to capacity. He held his breath for several seconds before slowly exhaling, looking inward. His heart beat was hollow... but still powered his body. The beats were slow...blank...and cold, the sound not as deep and robust as he yearned it to be. There was a slosh, always a worry, blood leaking from where it was meant to be. Every morning he felt unsettled. his heart was cold and the blood that ran through his veins was made of ice...but he would not let that change him. Not in the slightest.

He filled his mind with pure, intelligent thoughts. The sound of his past tormentors, his enemies. The sound of the firepower he was forced to face as a soldier, each unique, their beats as fast as their trigger fingers or their inquisitive minds. He focused, another deep breath, looked inward again. Slowly the beat of his heart leaned towards a more steady pace, calm energy pooled just above his gut. Around him, the sounds of his brothers in arms joining the world of the waking went ignored, his entire being preoccupied by maintaining the positive.

'This is me.' was the thought, 'And I can be as strong as I want.' His heart agreed, compromising on a steady if weak beat. Satisfied, he pulled himself back to the present, his breathing slowly returning to normal. His bright turquoise eyes opened, greeting the climate he found himself in. He was...here again. His bright eyes scanned the very large area...placing his hands into his pocket. The boy looked out from the library at the formations. Wearing what...he could only assume was a suit. It was close enough to be honest...as he entered the 'ball' that he had constantly heard off Sparda automatically felt like an outcast...everyone here had a partner with them or was hanging around with someone socializing. Hell, Sparda felt like he was the only one there who was alone.

Sparda's eye twitched at this and he slowly shifted to the side of the place. Going off on his own he found a comfortable chair and decided to just sit. He was content with just looking for now, since he did not have the guts to talk to anyone. Especially a woman...so he sat at the corner of the bar and just watched everyone else have fun. It was nice to see others come together...as his eyes wandered the small crowd of others who actually showed up...one...stuck out in particular. Slit eyes would narrow as she made her way around the area with a type of elegance that forced him to remember...Feena Mason.

Yes...that was her name...and with the recollection of a name came the memories. He remembered himself when he was young...bandaged up and still just getting to the jedi temple...it was Feena who he remembered the most out of the entire council...she had often spoke to him and tried to make him...happy. Yes, he remembered her now...she called him '13' back then...Sparda's eyes cut away from her as his large canine like ears lowered in a sense of shame...if she could see how far he came now...would she even recognize him? He scoffed at the thought, and simply allowed his mind to wander to other things.

 

[Feena]

Feena squeezed his arm a little too hard for a moment. She missed him more than even she was willing to admit. Now that she had her girls with her, It because clear just how much she relied on Keter.
"Felicity is doing well. Adjusting. Celeste... she misses you. Asks when she can go home. I don't know what to tell her. "

The queen looked down at her feet.

"Will you stay a while?" She asked, "You would like the palace. And the girls want to see you. "

[member="Keter"]

 

[Not Ordo]

Vin sat quite contented with himself licking his paw at the door as the guard calmly told him no pets allowed.

"You allowed [member="Noah Corek"] in." Vindart relied as a startled look came over the guard's face.

"You can talk?" The guard said putting a hand on his blaster.

"Gungansss talk iss it really so hard to believe an actual intelligent thspeciesss can match that thskill." Vindart replied looking at the human.

"Name? I'll check the list." The gaurd said after a moment.

"Vindart." The Gurlanin replied.

"You are on the list but this is a formal event and you have no formal attire." The guard said, "you'll have to wear something more appropriate."

"Ugh." Vindart said as he transformed to an average height dark skinned man in a tuxedo, "Satisfied, Jerek Kun from Corellia?"

"How did you?"

"I'm everywhere human." Vindart said as he walked through the doors and into the Ball.

He sniffed a woman as he walked by and sneezed as he ignored her reaction.

"Silly creatures the lot of them." He said to himself.