The Ball of Bastion [Invite Only][Primeval & Guests]

[Arage Bao]

Truth to be told the Lord of the Fringe didn’t have all that many reasons to attend this particular party, well strictly speaking that wasn’t true. In his position he should have been here to make sure the fledgling relationship in terms of alliances would be solidified between the two nations, he should have been interested in making sure that [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] and him were on the same page about these things.

Maybe even woo her a bit, to make things more easy. That’s what the old him would have done, or perhaps it was more safe to say his younger self. But even the young turn old at some point, and Ovmar had had his full share of… politics.

So today he wasn’t here for that, instead Jared simply wished to enjoy the party with his old apprentice. See how she was doing, maybe feel a bit proud about her progress and all the other sentimental stuff that one can do when having achieved a certain age.

He wasn’t cladhttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rta33yy4eRE/S1jS0ki8ElI/AAAAAAAAAIc/s8eeE-A5AaA/s1600-h/95838500.jpg in anything as fashionable as Xiangu, simple, dark and to the point, it was a classic call-back to what Ovmar valued these days. He really hoped he wasn’t embarrassing Matsu with it.

‘I will do my best to restrain my urges, dear.’ the Sith Lord teased right back, he was probably one of the few men in this Galaxy who could address her with ‘dear’ without getting his balls cut off immediately.

A disturbing fact best not to ponder on too much.

He guided them towards the drinking table, indicating for both of them to get something poured in. A part of Ovmar was very happy there weren’t any announcers, if he had to believe Na’Varro the last time a big party had that… shet had gone outta control.

‘How have you been, Matsu? Hear you are settling into the sphere of the Sith.’

No judgement, Ovmar had never liked to judge.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Sitara Qin]

She walked her way towards the bar, unaware of the eyes that watched her. She planted herself on a vacant seat. Perhaps it was still a little too early for the vast majority of guests to start coming in for drinks. The party had only just begun after all; the other guests were mingling with one another. Beautiful couples graced the floor, either that or they chattered on quietly to themselves in a corner.

Tara smoothed her black bondage dress and crossed her legs. She leaned over towards the bar tender. "A shot of Pisco, please." She said, smiling softly at the bar tender. He nodded, poured her a shot, and sent it her way. Though the drink was commonly used as a base for cocktails, she preferred drinking it pure, it's aromatic flavours sweet on her palate. She did enjoy the taste of grapes after all.

Soon, another person joined her at the bar. He was taller than her, obviously, and had a head full of dirty blonde hair. She raised her glass slightly, to greet him. "Marvellous party, isn't it?" She said, smiling at [member="Marek Starchaser"]. Another person would sit at the bar soon after. It looked like the party was off to a good start.

 

[Boethiah]

Click.

Anja stood in the center of an oval chamber, surrounded by servants who began to dress the Host Lord in her ceremonial armour. Towards the corner of the room sat a man whom the Witch of Bastion had become acquainted with recently.

The woman turned her head slightly towards him, "Watch carefully, this will soon be your responsibility." She then turned her head back; facing forward. Once the robes were fastened they began to place on the torso piece, lowering it slowly over her head and locking the other pieces into place. The final luxury was a small silver necklace which as carefully hung around her neck, a minor symbol of her birthright.

"Most of the guests have arrived, Your Worship." An older man entered the room and announced the news. His eyes were bloodshot from sleep deprivation as few under her ever had a full night's rest. The labour of her faithful was not something The Primeval disliked; in fact they saw honour in it. To be able to serve the voice of ones Gods was uplifting for many.

The two weren't ready just yet. "Wear what you'd like, just don't disappoint me out there." She once again spoke to her apprentice.

"Do you know any of the guests, Kiber?"

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek really was hoping to enjoy himself here. And that meant being a bit nice, showing that the ACA had some money to spend and hopefully running into [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] or some representative of the Primeval to make a bit of small talk. Marek was a trainee, and at one time, Sith Lord, even if he wasn’t in the One Sith, so to speak, though… he did have a lot of compatriots that supported the One Sith, and the Abrion Corporate Sector was on a good page with them. Maybe that’d extend to the Primeval. Especially if Haor Chall got their next swarm droids up and running.

As he was at the bar, the brunette, the one that he would eventually, hopefully, learn to be called [member="Sitara Qin"] approached and ordered her drink. As he said he would, Marek mentioned to the bartender to get the woman’s next round, and called for the oldest Whyren’s, or Corellian whiskey, they had. He had his private stash aboard a few Bright Star liners, but…
This wasn’t there.

Giving the brunette a smile, and taking his drink from the bartender, he nodded. “It is. Haven’t made it out to this side of the galaxy in a bit.” Since like… ever? “But the government paid the trip, so why not.” Because he was representing the ACA, sort of. “Name’s Marek.” He said, holding out his hand. Because he was insufferable like that.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Tmoxin gave Hans a sultry smile. Like herself, he always seemed to be climbing the proverbial career ladder even if they both knew it was akin to running on a treadmill at times. And while the Hapan officer could rally around a blossoming romance, she was keenly aware of how being aligned with the rising star of the Captain would elevate her position as well.

After a walk through the entrance hall, Commander Temi scanned the guests for anyone she knew or better yet anyone important that she could get to know and the pair of officers made their way to the throneroom where music played and refreshments were served. And although she heard rumors of the austerity of the Primeval, so far there was nothing out of the ordinary as far as parties went. Except for the execution later, she supposed. And the slave auction.

“Is there anyone here that you know? I’m afraid I don’t know a soul yet.” Although there were a couple of vaguely familiar faces, there was no one she could even call an acquaintance. It was possible though that the Captain didn’t either, for both of them were often deployed and out in the field. It wasn’t like they roamed around the hallowed halls of captiols buildings or Sith academies on a daily basis. And on one level she would be quite happy to talk to no one but Vaiden tonight.

But when she turned from the Captain’s arm to survey the room again, her body tensed up and she fought back an unbecoming scowl. There he was – an all-too familiar figure in the throneroom who always seemed to be haunting her like a blue-skinned ghost. She tried to steer Vaiden in the direction of a corridor off of the throne room, her hand a grasping his arm a bit tighter than she had before.

“On second thought maybe we should go explore the palace,” she said. "I know Pellaeon Gardens is supposed to be a highlight of the Imperial headquarters and I think it's somewhere on these grounds."

[member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Aster Jen'allé]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

*Destiny turned his eyes up toward the young boy. The youth of the organic kind were always more open to new ideas. So much more impressionable, but with a powerful innocence even when twisted by the elder of the galaxy.*

Destiny: *To Chiyo* "The palace is wonderful. The company here however is... frigid..."

 

[Tyro'din]

Tyro'din stood in one of the corners of the large hall, shrouded in the shadows cast there. His outfit was formal and nothing like what he would wear when he was doing his of as an agent of the Primeval, a charcoal grey suit hung open over the top of a waistcoat of a matching colour, beneath the waistcoat was a white dress shirt which had its top few buttons undone. A tie, hanging loosely the collar of the shirt, completed the suit, He was also wearing matching trousers, black formal shoes and held a wooden cane in his left hand. However, while he was not dressed for work, he still took his duties as a servant of the Host Lord seriously and had concealed numerous knives, of which he was proficient in using, through out his person.

Top lip curling slightly, revealing his cuspids, and a a low growl echoing from the back of his throat, Tyro'din pushed himself off of the wall and made his way into the mass of people. The new lighting caused his feline features to be revealed along with the large, vertical scar that ran down the left side of his face along with the empty left eye socket which was covered slightly by a hanging, scarred eyelid.

Pushing his way through the sea of bodies, cane clicking on the floor, Tyro'din's lone, red eye kept flickering around the room, the only sign that he was uncomfortable bearing his back in such a crowded place despite the fact that the activity was meant to be peaceful. In the process of observing the room Tyro'din managed to pick out the features of a few beings he recognised. Two being: [member="Boo Chiyo"], a new recruit to the Bleeding Sun ranks and the Chiss Cyrax Bane, a traitor to the crime organisation Red Ravens who had pulled of an impressive and crippling move when tendering his 'resignation'.

Arriving at the bar that stood at one side of the hall, the Bothan eased himself into a seat before ordering a drink. When it arrived he paid it no mind and let it sit beside him while his eye continued to scan the room.

Spoiler

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Pantorans were very near human, often described as humans with blue skin, but there wasn't much variation. All Pantoran had blue skin and yellow eyes, so the variation between skin tone and eye color in others could be fascinating. Case in point, when the boy had first approached the tall human simulacrum he had thought that her eyes were blue. Looking her in the eye now, he realized that wasn't quite correct. Her eyes were mysterious. Gray, blue, green... A color which defied attempt at classification.

They were quite remarkable.

"The palace is wonderful. The company here however is... frigid," the woman remarked.

With this much Sith, cold was to be expected. In truth, Boo was surprised the concentration of Dark Side users hadn't caused some sort of spontaneous environmental implosion. Snowing indoors maybe, which would actually be kind of astral. "I just talked to a guy who looked like a walking corpse, and sounded like it too," the youth began, as he thought of how to answer the woman's plight. "I'm not sure I'd want to warm up to that kind of company," the boy confessed wryly, delivering the punch line to the set-up.

Glancing off to one side of the room, the boy scanned the room for some alternative to the corner in which the pair were standing. As he did, the boy spied the familiar golden mane of the Prophet's Bothan assassin. Returning his attention to droid with the lovely eyes, the azure monk gestured to where he'd been looking earlier. "Have you seen the Pelleon Gardens? You might find them more... temperate," the boy offered warmly.

---

[member="Destiny"] [member="Tyro'din"]

 

[Hans Vaiden]

It was the rare occurrence in being in a palace full of the beings Hans disliked. It wasn't that he hated all Force sensitive beings, he just hated the ones that were part of religious cults that started wars simply for the sake of doing so. The Jedi denied their part in it, but it was all-too true on their side as well. His jaw tightened, tanned skin becoming taut as he scanned the area in search of his overlords in civilian attire. A voice and beating heart at his side stole his attention away almost immediately.

He'd forgotten that he wasn't alone, not anymore. He recognized a few people, but they were the gatekeepers of hell.

"Nah. I don't see anyone that I'd enjoy talking to." Green eyes flicked back and forth. "I don't suppose you'd like to chat about the weather and galactic politics with a Sith Lord anyways. Say something wrong and you'll be writhing on the floor." Hans grimaced at the thought and made note to keep his voice a little lower from that point on.

However, the tug at his arm drew his gaze once again. Tmoxin's eyes were locked onto something fierce, and he knew it took quite a lot to startle his dear Stormtrooper commander. Hans may have not been sensitive to the Force but he could practically feel the waves of unease resounding from her. Commander Temi offered to relocate somewhere else: the gardens. "Pellaeon? Don't even get me started on Pellaeon." He grinned and veered off to follow a corridor hopefully directing them outdoors. "That man was my childhood hero."

[member="Tmoxin Temi"]

 

[Sitara Qin]

"Who doesn't love a free trip? It's my first time being on this planet. I'm definitely loving it so far." Sitara agreed. Judging from that, it was safe to assume that [member="Marek Starchaser"] worked for the government. Whether he was a man of importance or some random contractual disposable thing was to be decided. Since he was here, she decided that it was most likely the former. No one would invite a person who wasn't worth talking to after all. Who wanted boring people at their party?

"Tara." She smiled, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "The pleasure's yours." She winked.

She took a glance at the drink he had ordered. It looked like whiskey, a drink with a taste she didn't really enjoy. It felt too stiff for her; though the men who drank it were usually interesting; intriguing types with exciting stories to tell.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

She thought she detected a certain tone in his voice when Jared asked how she was, quirking an eyebrow as she took the glass of whiskey offered to her. “I’ve been well. Nothing quite so exciting as the adventures I hear you’re having, but good nonetheless.” Despite the look she gave him, she knew he would realize she’d never, ever forget her roots. He had seen to her arm being replaced, to the continuation of her training. The Fringe had been home – was a home. If he needed something, he simply had to ask. Not only would she protect Wild Space, but she'd kill for him.

Taking a sip of her drink – very fine, some of the best she’d ever had she’d venture – she gazed around the room. Guests were still filing in. Many she knew simply by face or the flavor of a mind; she was far better at identifying someone by the particular curl of their mental signature, something as unique to her as fingerprints, and could pick someone out even with her eyes closed based on that imprint. It was a unique by-product of her passing up true skill with a lightsaber in favor of endless experiments with mentalism. It was second nature to be attuned. Without it, she may not even have recognized [member="Vrag"] at all. She wasn’t sure whether or not the Baphomet would appreciate it as she was so often concealed in armor that made Matsu shiver with delight, but the woman looked beautiful. She only hoped the man on her arm was up to the challenge.

Another newcomer – hard to miss considering the way half the room turned their heads to stare even as they continued their conversations – cut through the room, catching her eye over the lip of her glass during another sip. As it was, she was as taken as it was possible to be, but in another life he was the kind of man she would have excused herself to cut through the room towards. She made a mental note to track him down anyway. It wouldn’t do to ignore instinct.

However, the night was still young. “Be careful. Old people get drunk fast.”

[member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Jacen Cavill"]​

 

[Quietus]

How long for since she'd been to Bastion?

If she had her math right, which she did, it had been at least 300 years.

She'd seen this planet in the throes of the Gulag Virus, and it had been no different from all the others. Chaotic, savage, broken. But my, how good it looked now. Lorelei did not remark aloud upon these thoughts as she arrived on the arm of [member="Gerion Ardik"], the most unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on who you ask) target of the Kuatian Queen's eye as of late.

True to form, as had been her record, the Queen had made the first move upon receiving the official invite to the event. Forward enough to tell the Viceroy that he was the only obvious choice for a date where civilized, presentable men were concerned. He seemed to like that enough to acquiesce. While she could hardly vouch for any sort of opinion on the host, Lorelei was all too pleased to accept. She'd pushed the last gala event, The Hapan Masquerade–such a pity–off on her son, and very much intended to see to this new excuse to travel again.

Crushed black velvet and molten red lined by the tasteful glimmer of gold - the colors of the Kuatian royal house of Darke - adorned the woman for the ball. Red sleeves covered her arms, leaving little more than the flesh of her hands and face available for view. The only thing that was missing? A certain silver necklace.

"Hn," while waiting in line at Gerion's side, Lorelei peered at the evening's itinerary on a datapad handed to her at the entrance, "we certainly aren't in the Republic anymore."

She didn't sound too very upset about this.

 

[Aster Jen'allé]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

*Destiny glanced nervously where he was pointing. Nervous was only a simulation of course, yet her machine body still felt it the same. She liked this one, he was of attractive appearance, though in a very young and boyish manner. Certainly not desirable, but still something to look at other than the pale and torn bodies of the rooms other occupants. A garden, huh? Perhaps she would enjoy that..*

Destiny: "Would you show me to them? I would love to see them."

 

[Corey's OOC]

Well, she really wasn’t wrong. Marek was always enjoying wherever he went. And this Tara as he learned her name to be wasn’t making traveling very hard for him, not at all. These kind of social trips he could get behind. He really could. “I suppose being part able to make my own travel plans and charge them to the treasury is also a good deal, get all the hotel points too.” He laughed.

The trick was he owned the hotels he stayed in.

Young money life, really.

“So, not recognizing many people you said, not part of the local government?” Which part of the galaxy would this one be calling home? He was trying to stay away from his datapad for the time now. “Who are you representing?” Making conversation with people was the first way to learn about everything going on, beyond the agenda.

[member="Sitara Qin"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Lorelei Darke"]

Previously Gerion had no intention of being here. There was work to be done, and standing awkwardly in the corner of expensive galas was not at all productive. But when the Queen of Kuat wanted you to go somewhere, you went there. Suddenly there was no place in the galaxy it was more important to be present. So there he was, dressed in his usual sharp formal wear, with Lorelei Darke on one arm. If this was at all an unfortunate development, no one had informed him and he had yet to find out on his own.

Bastion was a pleasant place; very Imperial, very orderly. That it was still functioning even under these Primeval people was a good testament to their adequacy. If they were hosting this ball, it also showed they were in tune with the finer aspects of civilization. Worthy allies of the One Sith indeed, though judging from the itinerary he had been shown before arrival, they were still wanting in many aspects. He vocalized these thoughts when the Queen spoke.

"Between the slave auction and the public execution? I hardly even noticed." He remarked dryly. "I'm sure that Lasedri woman in the senate would be holding similar events with CEOs if given the opportunity."

With that kind of "event" list, this struck him more as what a wedding between a Trandoshan slaver and a Mandalorian warlord.

 

[Quietus]

"Did," Lorelei replied, absently scrolling through the list of foods and drinks available for the evening, "but her wine list was sorely lacking in comparison, just as her list of available CEO's will be now."

The Republic had certainly taken some debilitating hits where their commerce was concerned. Two major shipwrights lost within a fortnight - they didn't even have Mindabaal now. Or CEC. Lip twitching at the thought of the latter, she passed the datapad off to an attendant.

"I cannot say I lament being rid of those particular contractual obligations. One more project with Rendilli would have put me over the edge..."

[member="Gerion Ardik"]

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Silara Kuhn"]

Alric straightened out his suit jacket.

The dark black material shifted slightly under his large hands. His hands smoothed the jacket, then came down to his pants in the same motion. His fingers pinched and pulled free a medium length auburn hair that had stuck itself itself to the top of his pants. He grinned slightly, and let it float down onto the floor as he looked over his shoulder.

His grin didn't dissipate at what he saw, widening if anything.

He grasped the handle in front of him, pushing open the door ever so slightly and sticking his head out of the small crack that formed. His handsome features swiveled slightly, first moving to the right, then to the left, checking to see if anyone could be found. When there was no one, Alric ducked back inside.

“Looks clear.” His voice was filled with more than a little joy.

The last time that he had visited such an event was completely out of his mind, the near tragedy that had happened there having been pushed away by other, far more recent, events.

He grinned again, that foolish grin that had been plastered on his face for some time now, that grin that had first appeared when she had said those two little words. His hand reached out and touched the source of all of his joy, gently caressing her skin.

“We should probably hurry.” Alric said quietly, his other arm raising so that he could check his chrono. “I'm sure I've made us a bit late.”

This event was important, it was hosted by Titan Industries second biggest client and by the One Siths greatest ally in the galaxy, but for Alric Kuhn there was always time for fun.

 

[Sitara Qin]

"Well that's quite the life, though I bet you score more than just a few hotel points." She teased, biting her lip lightly. She was more than fond of travelling, usually spending what she could to hop from one planet to the other. Although her father—the drug lord that he was—frequently travelled the universe, he rarely took her with him; instead choosing to keep her safe in the comfort of their humble mansion. She grew up a happy, spoiled, and safe child. Now she craved for the adventures she lacked, and spontaneity often decided her every move. "I like to travel as well. Jumping from one planet to the next. It's definitely quite fun."

She parted her hair to the side, her dark brunette locks draping over her right shoulder revealing more of her graceful, slender neck. Her dark blue-grey eyes scanned Malek observantly; judging by his appearance he was definitely older than her by a few years. She wasn't quite sure if he was the serious or the playful type, however, seeing as she seemed to strike his fancy, perhaps he leaned towards the latter.

"I'm representing myself." She grinned, fiddling with the shot glass in her hands. "So, no. I'm not part of the local government." In fact, part of her childhood involved evading the government. "I'm actually a Sith member. So you can assume I'm pretty bloodthirsty." She giggled, playfully growling. All kidding aside however, she was more of the alcoholic kind of thirsty. The only blood she was after tonight was maybe a couple of bloody mary's, although the jedi-slaughtering event did strike her as something she needed to watch.

|[member="Marek Starchaser"]|

 

[Corey's OOC]

See? Now this was the type of person he liked to get himself around. Granted there were a lot of people just like her in the galaxy, it still… was refreshing. Marek didn’t have kids, no real desire for kids, because that [member="Damian Starchaser"], whom he didn’t really know existed (SpyNet and his Bright Star security team were keeping him in the dark on THAT front) did not count. Giving [member="Sitara Qin"] a once over, he nodded. “Big galaxy, can’t stay in one place for long or you miss it.” Now he was sound like a 1980s film.

Marek was one of those men who pretended to take himself seriously, and then got lost in that seriousness. The galaxy and him had a strange history. Survivor type becomes CEO, becomes Foreman of a collective of technology firms, becomes leader of a faction, retires from that to sling his entertainment company around the galaxy. Pretty busy, but at the same time, he dealt in entertainment, gambling and drinks. Can’t be too serious when you’re awake until well past 4 in the morning, local time.

On her own, huh? That was a bit of a shock. Well, for someone that was a few years younger than he was. Weren’t they all supposed to be running around the galaxy and closing establishments down? “Bloodthirsty, huh? Seems about right for the Sith, and they do say its always the cute ones that are the worst.” Well, maybe not in the genocide bit, but the Sith religions and Marek were not strangers.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Lorelei Darke"]

Gerion gave a sensible chuckle. The Republic had never been a bastion of many powerful corporations, save for Kuat. The Jedi dogma embedded in them tended to get in the way of capitalist sensibilities. Perhaps Rendili could have aspired to it if they were given enough time. But the only people who wanted to see that were from Rendilli. Gerion preferred them much better now- with a boot firmly planted on their neck. But some more stubborn elements were going to remain, or so he had heard.

"I can't say I ever had the obligation to work with Rendilli. I take it their leadership was unpleasant?"

The line crept closer to the door, and suddenly Gerion became aware that this was a rather large amount of people who wanted to place bids on slaves and witness executions. And he had almost thought the general population of Bastion was averse to such thing. More's the pity; another culture whose sense of what was respectable behavior being lost among warring governments.