Inside, We All Know, Only the Strong Survie (Invite)

[Avicus DuSang]

Planet X2V, System 3A, Uncharted Regions
Seven Months Prior

Dr. Harken wiped the sweat from his brow, putting his hat back on. The desert heat wore him out. It was getting to the point in his career where it was time to leave the field and get behind a desk. His children were grown, having babies of their own. He was entering his golden years, and had retirement to think about.

The archaeologist went back into his tent, looking at the monitor. His team had found a structure hidden deep underground. Carbon dating put it to be nearly 6,000 years old. A plethora of various poisons, fungi, traps, or leaking radioactive matter from ancient reactors. To minimize the hazards to the team, they sent down a team of droids.

From the monitor, Dr. Harken could see what was inside of the structure. A beam of light ran over an object in the distance. Harken grabbed a microphone. "Wait... Wait. Go back." The light panned back until it hit the object once more. "Yes. Move forward..." The droid obliged, drops of dust coming from the ceiling obscuring the view.

Finally, the droid moved to where the archaeologist could get a proper view. It was spherical in shape, covered in dirt and dust. The droid circled round it, the Doctor beginning to put various notes in his datapad. The droid stopped in front of the sphere once more. Dr. Harken peered closely to the monitor.

Suddenly, an eye opened up in the sphere. A cold dread ran up the archaeologist's spine. He tried to run. He tried to scream. But he was frozen in place. Fear was his prison, and there was no escape. He couldn't turn away from the monitor. From the sphere's inhuman gaze. His eyes began to dance, following the movement of the sphere.

One of his assistants began walking towards the doctor's tent with a cup of tea. He heard a chilling scream, dropping the tea into the sand. The young man dashed to the tent as fast as his legs could carry him...

Dosuun, the DuSang Estates
Two weeks before [member="Natasi Fortan"]'s corronation

Hundreds of miles outside of Avalonia rested a large chain of mountains. On one of the peaks rested the new DuSang Manor. A fortress of ebony amongst the snow. The residence provided plenty of privacy on the capital of the First Order. Walking out onto his balcony, Admiral Avicus DuSang took a long drag off of his cigarette. Yellow eyes looked out at the valley, admiring the peace and quiet.

He had invited Moff Fortan and Captain [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] to his home for dinner. The meal was, of course, for formality, but his staff had been working all day in order to create the perfect banquet. The mansion had been cleaned from roof to basement, though he and Viktor had recently moved in, so it was still pretty clean to begin with. Black walls. Black floors. Black ceilings. Red furniture. Red drapes. Red rugs.

The walls were also decorated with paintings of battles that happened centuries ago. Sith Lords and Mistresses that time had forgotten, but Avicus had not. He finished the cigarette, snuffing it out on a nearby ashtray as he looked at himself in one of the many mirrors that also graced the walls. He straightened up his uniform, parting his blue hair to the side.

"Scanners picked up incoming transports. Your guests are arriving." The voice of his assistant Damian LaBlanche reached him. Yellow eyes looked up to see Damian's reflection looking at him. "Prepare refreshments. I'll go meet our guests." Damian bowed, making the final preparations as Avicus walked through his manor to the large landing pad outside. The cold mountain air stung his skin, but he stood firm.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

[member="Avicus DuSang"]

The lead transport shuttle was designated by the First Order transponder codes to be a priority asset. In the forward passenger compartment sat three individuals. One, the priority asset in question, was the Grand Moff-apparent [member="Natasi Fortan"]. Beside her sat her cousin and Starfighter Corps Lieutenant, [member="Pierce Fortan III"]. Pierce was the executive officer of the Grand Moff's TIE Fighter squadron, the 100th Fighter Squadron. Sitting opposite Pierce, and facing the two Fortans' was the 100th's commanding officer, Captain Roderik von Brinkerhoff.

A smooth flight had provided the three an opportunity to move about and converse freely, with the conversation seemingly endlessly steering towards Pierce and Roderik regaling Natasi with tales of their exploits in the cockpit together, surprisingly reverently - most of the time. Each one insisting the other was the 'wingman'.

"So I rolled about 90 degrees and turned back towards Pierce, weaved right in behind the X-Wing on his tail," Roderik demonstrated with his hands, as he was often one to excitedly do. His right hand impersonating, poorly, an X-Wing starfighter, while his left swooped in as a crude TIE/sf starfighter.

"The poor thing didn't know what hit him." He mimed his right hand exploding, with a chuckle as he concluded his little demonstration of a popular starfighter strategy known colloquially as a Thatch's space weave.

Spoiler

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thach_Weave

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi watched the conversation, rarely participating but occasionally making the required reactions: a smile here, a nod there, a smirk at an amusing anecdote, the occasional meaningful glance at her cousin or his commanding officer. In truth she was highly interested in [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] and what he could contribute to the First Order's military strength. She was worried about Pierce, who seemed to take nothing seriously, and only seemed to like to drink and smoke -- which wasn't to say Natasi had anything against it. She did, after all, have a gin and tonic in one gloved hand, and a cigarette in the other, and in her dark plum evening gown looked very much the part of a lady at leisure.

"Terrific," Natasi said with a note of amusement, taking a drag from her cigarette. When she spoke, the smoke billowed out of her lips slowly. "But if Pierce was in a TIE/sf, why on earth didn't his gunner just take out the X-Wing? Don't tell me it's some ridiculous notion of sportsmanship. I know you pilots seem to have some notion of it, but those aren't cheap spacecraft, and your skills are more worthwhile to me than your sense of honor. Or had there been some sort of malfunction?" She waved the smoke away with her cigarette hand and glanced over at Pierce. "You broke it, didn't you?"

She took a sip of her gin and tonic, looking expectantly at her cousin.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Hot water cascaded over his body as he soaked up the shower. His forearms resting on the black tile. His forehead resting on his forearms. He took a deep breath, inhaling the humid air. He had just returned from Anoat not too long ago, and the fresh air was a blessing. The clothes he wore there were burned, and his equipment was thoroughly sanitized. His report had already been sent in.

Now it was just time for him to clean himself up.

His father, in his usual fashion, had dropped the bomb on him that company was coming before he hopped into the shower. Moff Fortan, his charge, was on the guest list. His stomach knotted a bit, and Viktor did his best to keep it at bay. But the sensation was nearly overwhelming. For the first time, in a long time, he was nervous. Nervous like the first day that he spoke in the Hall of Lords on Coruscant.

The mansion was freshly moved into. It certainly didn't seem lived in. Would she frown at how he lived? Would she think less of him because of their house? If this meeting didn't go well, he could very well see himself replaced. The thought turned his stomach even harder.

Stepping out of the shower, he looked at his reflection. "May I, sir?" the voice of his butler called out through the mist. "Yes, of course, Sebastian." From the fog emerged a man in a black tail coat with a white ruffled shirt. His red eyes locked onto the young Earl as he approached him slowly. From within his sleeve, he produced a straight razor, pulling Viktor's head back slightly as he slowly shaved the young man's face.

"I've laid out a few outfits for you to choose from." Viktor could only smirk. "Please stop moving your face, sir. Lest I cut you." "Sorry, Sebastian." the young acolyte mused, trying his best to keep still. After Sebastian had shaved him, he stepped into his room. Across his bed were four different coloured shirts, slacks, and jackets. "I think we'll go with the red shirt with the white jacket and slacks."

"An excellent choice, my Lord. I believe the white loafers are located in your closet." Viktor nodded as the butler let himself out so his master could get dressed. He made quick work of putting on the outfit, stepping back into the bathroom to check himself in the mirror. There was a knock on the door.

"My Lord, your father is making his way to the landing deck." Viktor nodded, running a hand through wet black hair before stepping out. He made his way to the landing pad, his butler a few steps behind him. "Everything has to be perfect, Sebastian. Don't let anyone ruin this evening, especially my father." The crimson eyed man could only bow.

"As you wish, my Lord."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Pierce had grown up with Natasi, each of them spending summers and winters running in and out of each other's houses. Herevan Hold was almost as much his home as hers. He considered her a sister more than a cousin because of their close relationship growing up. They had been apart for some years, but when they got back together it was as if no time at all had passed. Consequently, he could read her like the back of his hand and he knew that she was bothered by something. It couldn't be him, could it? He'd only had one scotch, for heaven's sake. "No, no, no, nothing like that," he said, scanning her face over his smoldering cigarette. "You see, my gunner was... ill."

This was not, strictly speaking, true or false. The First Order starfighter handbook did not recognize being hideously hungover and suffering minor alcohol poisoning as being ill, so Pierce had insisted his gunner had eaten something questionable at the mess. Pierce, being only horribly hungover and not suffering alcohol poisoning, had seen fit to fly. It wasn't exactly regulation, but -- well. No need to tell Natasi that. He glanced at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] with a wink and then looked up as the pilot announced they were approaching their destination.

"Bollocks in, lads," he told von Brinkerhoff, standing and tossing his dress jacket across to him, then shrugging his own on. He adjusted his cuff-links fussily and then sat down.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik caught his jacket after [member="Pierce Fortan III"] tossed it over, and half-stood to also better facilitate fitting into it as well. He adjusted his collar, and gave a once-over to his cuff-links and medals alike.

He offered one last defense for Pierce, and his gunner.

"The G-forces can do terrible things to a man's stomach and mind alike, ma'am."

The Starfighter Corps captain had already slipped his game face on, immediately after the announcement of final landing approach. No longer could he allow himself a major lapse in military bearing, or courtesy. Discipline was important to Roderik, and despite his familiarity with Pierce, and growing comfort around Natasi, he was still a middle-management officer, about to attend a dinner meeting with an Admiral, and a soon-to-be-announced Grand Moff. He would need to present his A-game.

"It feels strange to be on this side of a landing, eh, Pierce?" He said just in time for the thud and momentarily rattle of the shuttle touching down.

[member="Avicus DuSang"]

 

[Avicus DuSang]

The shuttle fell into the view of his amber gaze as it descended onto the landing pad. He approached the door, meeting the occupants at their descent. "Moff Fortan. Captain von Brinkerhoff. Lieutenant Fortan. Welcome to Chateau DuSang. We can make small talk once we get inside, the mountain air will chill you to the bone." Clasping his hands behind his back, he lead his guests into his house. Once the doors were closed, the air began to warm.

"I trust the trip here was enjoyable." An old man approached the group as the Admiral smiled. "Ahh. This is my assistant; Doctor Damian LaBlanche." He bowed politely. "It is wonderful to meet you all. Admiral DuSang, dinner will be ready in ten minutes." The Dark God smirked, giving an approving nod. "Excellent. Thank you, Damian." The man walked off to put the finishing touches on dinner as he turned back.

"We're ahead of schedule, as it currently stands. The final preparations will be made as to your specifications, Moff Fortan." he said. "All, I might add, with little to no trouble from the senior officers. The First Order is a well oiled machine, it's an honor to serve the Moff Council and Supreme Leader." Yellow eyes danced around the obsidian halls.

Such a strange feeling it was to serve again. Centuries ago, he sat upon the throne, answering to no one. A reign of debauchery and excess. He thought his decadence had caused the civil war that nearly destroyed his empire. So many lives lost because of him. It was one thing to commit genocide, it was completely another to send men off to their death for your ideals.

The group approached Viktor and Sebastian as both men bowed respectively. "I believe you all already know my son; Viktor. And his butler. Would anyone like any refreshments before we eat? Damian, I'll take a glass of wine."

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"] [member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi bundled into her black fur coat, assisted by Pierce, and then made to disembark with the two pilots flanking her. "Admiral DuSang, how delightful to see you," said Natasi genially. "Thank you for the invitation." She followed the Admiral into the chauteau and looked around, her dark eyes taking in their surroundings for a few moments before being helped out of her coat again. "Very enjoyable, thank you. We do have a beautiful planet as our capital, haven't we?" She smiled pleasantly and turned to greet the approaching man, Doctor LaBlanche. "Doctor. How do you do?" With handshakes and pleasantries out of the way, she turned to [member="Avicus DuSang"] again.

"You know Captain [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] obviously, and Lieutenant [member="Pierce Fortan III"]. I'm pleased to hear we're ahead of schedule. Those are among my favorite words," Natasi said with a pleasant smile, clasping her gloved hands together. "And 'well oiled machine' are right up there, too." She glanced at her pilot companions with a smirk and she followed along with Avicus. "I've been very pleased with the service of your son," Natasi said as they approached [member="Viktor DuSang"], giving him a polite smile. "Nice to see you, Viktor. Do you know my companions?" She introduced them and then turned to Damian.

"Water, please."

 

[Viktor DuSang]

"Sebastian, please fetch Moff Fortan's water."

The crimson eyed butler bowed before darting off to fetch the glass. "My Lady." he said, dropping to one knee as he bowed his head. Standing up, he shook hands with [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] and [member="Pierce Fortan III"]. "Captain. Lieutenant. Welcome to our home. I believe we saw one another in passing in the Citadel, but were never formally introduced." The young Earl straightened up his jacket before turning his attention back to [member="Natasi Fortan"].

The butler returned with a glass of water, presenting it to the Moff with a bow. "Tonight's menu is a Coruscantian delicacy. Hassledorf steak fillets served with creolean crustacean tail. The sides are a medley of steamed vegetables bought at the local market in Avalonia. The vegetables were specifically picked to help enhance the flavor of the various meats. For dessert, we have a light pudding served with rosary tarts. Garnished with fruits also purchased in Avalonia."

"Thank you, Sebastian. Please help make the final preparations for the meal." Clearing his throat, he pulled a Coruscanti clove out of his pocket, sparking the sweet cigarette up. "I'm pleased to hear the trip here was exceptional, my Lady. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable." He slipped into the back of the group, the resting eyes making him rather uneasy.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik greeted [member="Avicus DuSang"] with a crisp salute, made literal by the chill in the air.

"Thank you, Admiral." He said briefly, before being ushered into the warmth of the interior of the chateau. He kept pace alongside [member="Pierce Fortan III"], stopping along the way to greet individuals.

He remained silent until Natasi introduced him to [member="Viktor DuSang"], whom had seemed familiar in a way that Roderik could not place. He shook his hand in a friendly manner.

"Thank you, sir. No, I do not believe we have been properly introduced. Captain Roderik von Brinkerhoff, First Order Starfighter Corps." He enjoyed saying the title aloud, he took perhaps too much pride in being a starfighter pilot.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi waited while the introductions were being made and then followed the party into the dining room. After the pleasantries they settled into their meals and Natasi wanted to get down to business. "The important thing to remember is that, in addition to being good stewards of the First Order's finances for this vessel, we are also charged with the creation of a ship that will contribute positively to the defense factor of the First Order. While I will retain command of the fleet -- notionally, given the rank structure of the Navy and Starfighter Corps," to this she raised her glass towards [member="Avicus DuSang"] and [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] in turn, "I will never -- ever -- leave the First Order in the lurch. I want this vessel to form the backbone of a fleet which will have an impact."

She picked up her knife and fork and cut off another bite of her meal. After chewing, she inclined her head and addressed the room again.

"The basic Resurgent-class is impressive indeed, but can you tell me more about these... modifications, Admiral?" She glanced at Avicus.

 

[Avicus DuSang]

"At ease, gentlemen. Please. Our lives our burdened by protocol. Feel free to loosen your buttons here."

Stepping into the dining hall, he took his seat at the head of the table. As the group sat down for their meal, he listened to Moff Fortan's words. Clearing his throat, he put down his cutlery. He took a sip of his wine before pulling out his datapad. Pushing a few buttons, a holographic image of Concordia appeared in the center of the table. "Of course, Moff Fortan." Standing, he began to walk around the table.

"Concordia was designed to be a symbol of the strength and elegance the First Order brings to the table. Losing some storage space, we were able to build an elegant suite for you. As well as stately rooms where foreign delegates can stay, while enjoying the many luxuries we have to offer. The conference room was designed to have an overbearing feel to it, giving us an edge in negotiations. Never underestimate the power of psychological warfare."

Another few buttons were pushed and a planet appeared where Concordia once resided. "Additionally, Concordia was chosen as the test vessel for Project Asmodeous. In the Unknown Region, a First Order Survey Team encountered an ancient structure. The chief archaeologist; Dr. Harken encountered a relic from the Ancient Sith Empire. A Sith Meditation Sphere.

"Well, most of a Sphere. But, I digress. Dr. Harken suffered a psychotic break. By the time the Survey Team was able to subdue him he had already..." His voice trailed off. The conversation piece not entirely appropriate for a conversation over dinner. "Well, it's all in the reports. I'll have Damian forward them to you." He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it up as the holo-image changed from the planet to the Sphere in question. The parts missing from the Sphere discovered were highlighted in orange.

"As you can see, the wing components were not in tact and her generator was shot. The team salvaged what they could and sent it back to Naval Headquarters. For months, our engineers tried to repair the generator, but to no avail. So, they tried a replacement, and the ship came to life. Our top officials wanted to see if the ancient tech could be used with today's weaponry. Thus, Project Asmodeous was born."

He paused, taking another drag off of the cigarette as the image changed from the Sphere to the Galaxy. "This is the territory that Naga Sadow brought under his control." A plume of red begin to cover the territories, bleeding throughout the Galaxy. "The Golden Age of the Sith. Naga Sadow took on the Republic, and the Meditation Sphere gave him the edge he needed." He took another drag, standing behind his chair as olive fingers danced along the wood.

"The Sphere projects a map of the Galaxy, giving a detailed map of allied troops and their locations. Furthermore, the Force Amplifiers within the Sphere allows the user to project Battle Meditation upon their troops. Boosting their morale and quickening their reaction time." A wave of his hand, and he moved on from his chair. "Project Asmodeous has been tested with stupendous results." The image changed back to Concordia, a small sphere being displayed within her.

"A hangar was removed to make room for the Sphere." Black tendrils of the Force wrapped around his glass as it floated to his hand. "Unfortunately, that has left a bit of a gap in her defenses. But, that's the main reason why I wanted to get the Captain and Lieutenant involved. The trade off in strategic advantage, however, is well worth the trade." Another wave of his hand and the image dispersed.

"Also forwarded are the crew lists. Commander, I'd like you and Lieutenant Fortan to go through the names. These officers were chosen for their exceptional marks and unquestionable loyalty. Any recommendations, I would like you to send them my way. You know these men better than I do. I want to know who makes a good fit. I won't suffer embarrassment because two officers can't properly work together..."

[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"]

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik's interest was immediately piqued as [member="Avicus DuSang"] spoke of this meditation sphere, and of battle meditation.

The captain had no innate ability in the Force, no sensitivity to its call. But he did not discount the ability of others. He had seen too many strange occurrences, unexplained phenomenon, to not believe in something.

"The lieutenant and I can handle crew selection with no trouble. I think I know someone who could help free up any additional hangar space for what we do have, as well. He's only a senior technician, but he works wonders with that kind of stuff." He shot a quick glance at [member="Pierce Fortan III"], which read, 'you can handle crew selection with no trouble', before his attention swept back to the Admiral.

"Do we have anyone that can properly utilize the sphere? The strategic value is, well, astounding, to be honest. Is there a catch, sir? Nothing in life is ever free."

He hesitated somewhat, still trying to tip-toe the line between offering up his professional advice and suggestion, and being an impudent or brash upstart. His skills were narrow-focused on the Starfighter Corps, who was he to question the capabilities of the Force Wielding individuals of the First Order?

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi reclined in her seat, setting he fork and knife down again. This was going to be one of her favorite parts about being a Grand Moff, she knew. She could just ask people to tell her things and they would research and present on any topic she asked. It was good to be the non-regnant, subservient-to-the-Supreme-Leader-but-otherwise-bearing-no-superiors Queen of the First Order. Her dark eyes watched Avicus as he described what was happening.

"Admiral," she said, trying not to sound spiky, though she felt she might not be succeeding. "I hesitate to ask, but I wonder if you can explain why my flagship is being used as a testing ground. I'd like to think that if something went wrong, if this Sith... sphere thing ...went haywire, it wouldn't be wise to have it be aboard a ship bearing what is essentially the entire First Order government structure." She paused and glanced around the room, looking somewhat bemused. "That is, at least the only structure that matters, outside the Supreme Leader, if we're being completely frank."

Her eyebrows lofted somewhat and she glanced at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "And what about hangar space? We'll have place to keep foreign visitors, but no way for them to get aboard. Captain? Any thoughts?"

 

[Avicus DuSang]

He paused, giving a smile to [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] and [member="Natasi Fortan"]. "Concordia was chosen for two reasons. The Grand Moff's fleet will be more than just for diplomatic missions. It'll be the first fleet dedicated to the defense of our territories. Our cease fire is, at best, temporary with the Galactic Alliance. Our rapid expansion could be suddenly interpreted as hostile from our Mandalorian neighbors. It was imperative that we give our defensive fleet the offensive edge it needs in order to crush any and all invaders who would try to stake claim to our lands."

He paused, taking a final hit off of the cigarette before flicking it into the air. With a snap of his fingers, the paper and tobacco rapidly burned up into a small plume of smoke and ash. "Lastly, it was out of necessity. You see, as Captain von Brinkerhoff pointed out, the Sphere cannot be used by just anyone. It requires a powerful Sith Lord." He dusted off his fingernails, smirking to himself. "Someone like me."

He walked back to his chair, taking his seat once more. "I assure you, Moff Fortan, the Sphere has undergone months of testing. However, safety measures have been installed. In the unlikely event there are complications, there is a remote security code that can be used to shut the system down. Besides me, and my executive officer Captain Reed, you'll have the code as well, madame." He picked up his fork and knife, cutting into the steak.

"My apologies. I wasn't clear. Hangar space originally used for a squadron of TIEs. We have plenty of hangar room for delegates and the like. I'd love to have the technician come in, but the ship is already built. As I said earlier, we're in our final preparations." He took a bite of the steak, chewing it slowly. Sipping his wine, he washed the meat down as his attention turned back to his guests. "If you need further convincing, I have set up a demonstration for tonight. We can head there after dessert."

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik considered his response to [member="Natasi Fortan"] while at the same time not quite able to shake the thoughts of battle meditation, and what the sphere could do - or take away - from the pilots whom he commanded.

"A demonstration would be exciting, Admiral. But I wonder, and again, begging your pardon, what would be the adverse effects of all of this? Increased reaction time is a small substitute for mental alertness and sharp tactical thinking. This battle meditation doesn't - well, we use men instead of droids in the cockpit for a reason, don't we?"

The captain was not one for any vices outside of too much caf throughout the day. He drank rarely, and would as soon intentionally crash his starfighter into an asteroid than touch any kind of spice.

And the promising allure of battle meditation was seeming quite like some kind of drug. He quickly turned his attention back to the Moff,

"My reservations on that one note aside, this sounds quite promising. As for the hangar space, if need be additional TIE Fighter space could be allotted for dignitary use. Any lost starfighter compliment could be made up for in additional fleet protection, say, an extra escort carrier, Admiral?"

He considered for another second before adding,

"I believe that as long as the ship has at least a Wing of it's own, it will be sufficient defense for the off-hand chance that the Concordia is separated from its fleet."

[member="Avicus DuSang"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi studied [member="Avicus DuSang"] for several long moments before sitting up straight again and picking up her knife and fork. This was a gamble, and for all the Admiral's certainty that this would be a strategical coup, Natasi Fortan had not gotten where she had by gambling freely with the Supreme Leader's resources or her own safety. She cut a delicate bite of steak off and chewed it silently, pausing to dab her lips with her napkin. "Very well, if it's done, it's done and there's nothing to do about it now." She took a sip of water and reached down to adjust her gloves under her napkin -- or, more realistically, to check that they were still there.

"I trust my specifications for the state rooms and the guest cabins were not too difficult to achieve," Natasi said briskly. "It is unusual to use real wood fixtures on a capital ship, I have been told, but Concordia will not be any capital ship, but my home away from home and the First Order's mobile headquarters for receiving visitors and potential allies. It must be like something they have never seen before." She glanced sidelong at [member="Viktor DuSang"], watching him idly for a few moments before turning her gaze back to his father.

"I'm sorry if I seem to be overbearing on this project, Admiral. It's not that I don't trust you. It's that I want to ensure the Supreme Leader that he can trust me." She took another sip, then nodded at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "To the Captain's point, we could easily add a carrier to the fleet composition -- unless there is an angle I'm not seeing?"

 

[Avicus DuSang]

The Admiral looked to [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"], giving the Captain a nod. "If you're worried about losing your humanity, let me put your fears to rest. It's not a power that puts strings on soldiers, making them living puppets. It isn't some performance enhancing drug that causes withdrawal. Before we leave, I'll give you a few books on Sith philosophy. Suffice it to say that it will bring troops together as a cohesive unit. Unlocking each individual's potential. So if there would be an adverse effect, it would be the disappointment caused by not being able to unlock that potential on your own."

His attention then moved to [member="Natasi Fortan"] as he nodded. "Moff Fortan, I assure you that every specification you have made has been integrated into Concordia. We have scoured the Galaxy looking for the finest timbers, carpenters, and masonry's. As you stated, Concordia will be like nothing the Galaxy has ever seen. And the First Order owes it all to your tremendous vision. A toast for the soon-to-be Grand Moff." He raised his glass.

"May your resolve never falter. May your vision never grey." He took a sip, his attention moving to his son. "Viktor, I assume the Decadence is ready?"

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Viktor sat quiet through most of the presentation. His eyes rolled, more than once, at his father's extravagant threading of words. Partly because when his father spoke too much, it began to grate at his nerves. His own speeches were blunt, and to the point. His father had a gift for poetry, and Viktor was a novice at best. The one thing he tolerated about his father was the one thing that genetics didn't pass down.

When [member="Natasi Fortan"] glanced his way, his eyes met with her own. His heart rate elevated, and his throat tightened. He gave the lady a cool smile. Atleast, he hoped it was cool. At this point, facial control felt a bit lax. He hated not being in control of his reactions. Luckily, [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] fired off some questions, and Moff Fortan had some of her own.

While the group conversed, Viktor picked at his steak. He didn't have much of an appetite. He was so incredibly nervous. His eyes closed as he slowed his breathing. Sebastian stepped up behind him, placing a gloved hand on the young nobleman's shoulder. He gave Viktor a reaffirming squeeze, and the young acolyte began to calm down.

He raised the glass of his mixed drink as his father proposed a toast. Yellow eyes falling on the Moff once more. He couldn't help but smirk. "To Grand Moff Fortan." he said, taking a drink. His gaze shot up as Avicus said his name. "Hmm? Oh. Of course, father." His space yacht had, in fact, been ready since he came back from Anoat.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi glanced over at [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"], giving him a look not unlike the one in her attractive gif avatar (seen to advantage at left), her dark eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. He had homework. She smirked and turned her attention back to the party, beaming modestly around the table as they lifted her glass. "I shall try to live up to your expectations of me, Admiral. Thank you for your confidence in me. And if I may add a prayer to the end of your toast -- may my stride never falter, and my hair never grey. Now I'll drink to that." She took a sip from her wine, her cheeks still colored with modesty.

As the dinner concluded, Natasi stood, stretching her legs by taking a few steps from her chair, admiring the furniture in the dining room as she pulled her full-length opera gloves back on. This was how things were done on Galidraan, and she wanted the trend to catch on here, too. Things were just so much more elegant there. She rounded the table towards [member="Avicus DuSang"], folding her hands together anxiously. "Tell me Admiral -- what was the impact on the weapons capacity of the Concordia, what with the retrofits that we have both required?" Natasi adjusted her gloves, reaching under her left wrist to button the fastener with her right hand. "I believe this will be the most magnificent ship in the First Order's arsenal... or..."

She gave a self-deprecating look. "Or both of us will be a laughingstock. Let's just be sure it's the former, hm?"