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

[Cryax Bane]

Bane gave a lop-sided grin as [member="Kerrick Ikon"] found him skulking in the corners of the throne room, trying to sit on a stone dais that was clearly meant more for a human sacrifice than a near-human rear-end. "You look nice," he slurred. Then as if reading xir thoughts he added. "You don't have to babysit me, you know. I'm a big boy." He straightened out the lapels of his gold and black suit jacket, as if it would help his inebriated state, and gave out a long drunken sigh.

"Careful?" parroted the slicer, almost like he didn't know the meaning of the word. He leaned on Kerrick's shoulder, sloshing his drink on xir.

"The only thing I care about tonight is this," he pointed to his glass and added. "and this." A vial of gree spice emerged from his pocket. He thrust it in his friend's face, holding it there awkwardly. Then suddenly, the plastered Chiss looked around the room, brow wrinkled in a drunken mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Why are there so many naked people here? Is there going to be an orgy?"

Bane had never been to a Sith orgy, but it sounded like just the thing to liven up the party.

A nagging voice scratched at the back of his mind, insisting that he should be making new contacts and greasing the wheel with potential high-paying clients for the CRC's many business ventures. In a few minutes, he would make the rounds, handing out his flimsiplast card with the cryptic CRC emblem glowing on its surface. Right after this next drink. Or maybe the one after it.

"I feel like picking a fight," he announced to no one in particular.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Hal Terrano"] [member="Kiber Dorn"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Gerion Ardik"] [member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Sitara Qin]

She scanned her surroundings, still trying to see if there was anyone she knew. Prior to this event the only people she had interacted with were the chums from the academy, her master, some weirdo from Vantooine, and a lovely woman she had met on the wonderful planet of Krashyyyk. She was one of them but she hadn't been socially initiated yet. She bit her lips and toyed with the glass in her hands. Her eyes lowered then raised to meet [member="Marek Starchaser"]'s. He seemed to be scanning the room for people he knew too, and judging by his expression he probably found some people.

“Serious. Sounds like…fun.” The sentence itself was an oxymoron. Of course not everyone in the galaxy knew how to conventionally have a good time. Tara licked her lips and grabbed her black studded clutch off the counter. She spun her stool and hopped off of the seat, her dark stiletto heals clicking against the ground.

"Shall we?"

 

[Corey's OOC]

There were always people Marek knew. He did ride with a pretty charismatic clique, even if he tended to keep himself out of galactic politics. Sure, he needed to make it known that he was willing to do business from his entertainment company with the rest of the galaxy. It’d allow him a view into the rest of the factions. It was just a matter of making the right calls. But there was a group making discussion, and he figured he might as well make the walk over.

He shook his head. “If it gets to be too much, just let me know.” Because he’d accompany her away from the group, once he made his greetings and intentions known. He needed to speak to the [member="Anja Aj’Rou"], or someone who could represent Primeval to his representation of Abrion. But maybe after [member="Cryax Bane"] and his Sith orgy. Then business meetings. Maybe.

Right, clutches. The mouse sized handbag for women in dresses and on first dates. How many of those were sitting in Bright Star lost and found at any given moment? He held out his hand for her. “Let’s.” Now where had [member="Jacen Cavill"], [member="Gerion Ardik"] and [member="Jared Ovmar"] run off to? He thoguth he also saw Danger running around. Can’t miss those assets.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

All they would hear was the sound of water trickling out of the nearby fountain where they sat. Nothing else would presently be heard, none of the backhanded compliments being tossed around in the Throne Room. No protests from prisoners as they were denied another meal in the Imperial Dungeons. All of the tumultous social climbing just a few feet away was completely irrelevent in the pastoral atmosphere of Pellaeon Gardens. Tmoxin kissed Captain Vaiden deeper, sinking into him, her hands running down his back to press him firmly into her body. She wriggled close, hoping that right through the fabric of his shirt, he would be able to feel the heat of her skin from the exposed part of her dress. Her tongue teased his lips and tasted his mouth, drinking him in like the alcohol they had sipped in the Throne Room before. But this is much better than any wine, she thought.

Oh how her hands wanted to roam but she finally… reluctantly pulled away, conscious of the cadence of events that brought them together. Commander Temi wasn’t convinced that she was the subject of any gossip around Imperial Headquarters, but she certainly didn’t want to be branded as one who slept their way to the top. She swallowed back the urge to kiss him again.

“I suppose we should try and say a few words to the hostess,” she said, her voice punctuating the near-quiet in the garden. Tmoxin straightened the lapels on his jacket and allowed her hand to reach up and give him one last soft stroke on his cheek, feeling the smooth skin from a close shave. “Are you ready?”

[member="Hans Vaiden"]

 

[Delyna Karthoys Haymire]

Although most of the guests were special in one way or another, or at least powerful individuals, certain groups of attendants were more interesting than their peers. At the moment, the Oracle’s focus was mainly centered around the two women and the one man; [member="Jared Ovmar"] who the Oracle was somewhat unsure of. There was certainly something special about him, his powers? Yes, that was it. What he actually could do was unclear to Delyna, but he was certainly not a traditional force user. And people like that were usually worthy of observance, especially to one such as herself.
Next was [member="Laguz Vald"] who at first had appeared to be a beautiful red haired woman, whom the Oracle knew nothing of. A few sentences into the conversation it became apparent, however, that there was something very special about this one, too. It was as if her mind was out of place - Was she stuck in another body? Or was it a disguise? Once again the Oracle was quite dubious.

Lastly she saw [member="Matsu Xiangu"] who quite like the man, and Delyna herself, obviously was attuned to the force. Perhaps a bit more in a traditional dark side fashion, yet it was still clear that she was not a standard Sith. Calling someone a standard Sith might be a bit of a stretch, though, as most would deny the existence of a standard follower of that particular creed. Even their traditions were split; Sith brotherhood - The rule of two, all that… In either case, this woman seemed to be more dangerous than the man and her mentality seemed more akin to the other woman's.
Well, there was always the chance that she had misread their personas. It was impossible to tell at first hand, and although her abilities usually showed the truth there were always times when something got mixed up.

Whatever the truth, they were interesting people no less. And she was quite sure that at least two of them possessed a connection to the force and shared some form of similarity to her own powers. Because of this, the young oracle was probably lucky to maintain a keen resistance to most force powers stemming from her sorcerous ways; Ways which also resulted in an almost absolute lack of combat prowess. Something none of these three seemed to lack. If any of them decided to attack the young woman, she had no doubt in her mind that she would be at their mercy. With no skills with blasters, swords and no access to simple force attacks even picturing herself partaking in an actual fight seemed wrong and silly.

Due to her set of powers, and her connection to the living force, Delyna’s force imprint was very unique and easily distinguishable. But it was also shrouded; Hard to spot. One could say that it was challenging to first pinpoint her signal, but once one succeeded it was extremely easy to find her again. This was obviously both positive and negative for her, as it could save her life but likewise endanger her and those around her significantly. And while her force alignment itself was extremely neutral her powers were somewhat primal, old fashioned yet untraditional. Akin to the witches or sorcerers from uncharted planets...

There was one particular person Delyna had been waiting for, [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], but for now she had not showed up. The Oracle blinked twice in rapid succession, then let her gaze wander away from the trio, to the door which eventually would lead to the hostlord's personal chambers. Was she on her way? Delyna closed her eyes for a bit, focusing on the door. It seemed like the the leader of the Primeval was no longer in her own room, which most likely posed a good sign.

 

[Sitara Qin]

Her lithe fingers lightly gripped the hand he held out for her. Marek’s eyes seemed to search the room just as she had been earlier. Perhaps he was trying to find a few people in particular. Tara’s eyes looked around as well. It appeared the powerful lady who hosted the party wasn’t here yet, though the night was still young and it was customary for certain people of certain positions to come to their own party fashionably late. Though at the same time it was also customary for hosts to be at their party early to greet their guests. Sitara shrugged.

She pressed her shoulder against Marek’s as they walked. “Looking for someone?” She chirped, her head tilted towards him as they walked. The black bandage dress hugged her figure tightly, outlining each curve as she strutted besides her new acquaintance.

|[member="Marek Starchaser"]|

 

[Cryax Bane]

Perhaps he would be putting some of those flimsi cards to good use after all. When Cryax saw Marek Starchaser approaching him, the Chiss gave his own blue face a couple of slaps. Even though the Chiss and the CEO orbited around the same circles and beyond a few Holocalls here and there, Bane hadn't gotten the pleasure of spending much time with Marek. That looked as if it were about to change. Since one never got a second chance to make a first impression, he hoped that he wouldn't come across like a drunken slob, but then again, Bane was a crime lord not a choir boy. Enjoying the galaxy's many vices were perks that came with the territory, and the best way for someone like Cryax Bane to behave was not to at all.

"Mr. Starchaser," he said, holding out a blue-skinned hand to shake, and racheting up his charming grin a couple of notches. No need to introduce himself as the two men already knew each other.

"I see the life of the party is here," he joked, and gave the man a cuff on the shoulder.

He turned towards the woman on Starchaser's arm, spinning a bit too clumsily for a sober man. Then he raised a blue-black brow at Marek, one red alien orb giving his acquaintance a wink. She was a pretty little Sith strumpet who was presumably headed for Marek's bed later on that evening.

"Name's Cryax Bane." he said to the young woman. He gently lifted the woman's hand in his hand and pressed a kiss to the smooth young skin "And who do we have here?"

Despite his reputation, the Chiss cleaned up well. When he set his mind to it.

[member="Sitara Qin"] [member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Kerrick Ikon"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Even if she hadn’t known Jared well enough to pick up the direction of his thoughts without trying, it would have been impossible to miss what he communicated to her now. Not really her? Interesting. Also a little disappointing – she would have loved to meet the illustrious Danger Arceneau. But there was time yet for that in the future so instead she pressed back affirmation to her old Master and took her leave. “It seems I’m only interrupting a fond reunion – I’ll leave both of you to it. I hope to speak to you in the future, Miss. Arceneau,” she said, avoiding the tone of wistfulness that would indicate she knew more than she was letting on.

Squeezing Jared’s arm lightly, she moved off to make her away across the room. The Sith Lord she’d intended to hunt down was nowhere in sight, no doubt having ghosted off with any of the countless beautiful women roaming the cavernous room. Poodoo. Time yet for that meeting as well – if, of course, whomever he’d disappeared with didn’t keep him too busy.

Light trends of thought brushed past her mind, a natural consequence of her chosen set of skills. An old but familiar one in the form of [member="Inger Strömfire"], a woman from her days when she’d been solely dedicated to the Fringe. She hadn’t seen her in a while and as she passed by she reached out a metallic hand to pinch a fold of the fabric of the redhead’s dress between her fingers. “Nice dress.” She tossed a little wave over her shoulder as she kept moving.

She was almost to Vrag and her companion when whispering darted past her ears, the sense of stars, maybe arcane – it was hard to describe though she caught the sensation of being evaluated, like someone was walking over her grave. Following the threads she turned her head to a pale, silver-haired woman watching the doors of a chamber ([member="Delyna Karthoys Haymire"]) set back in the throne room. She seemed to have eyes only for whomever was sequestered inside but she’d caught Matsu’s attention anyway.

By that time however she’d gotten to [member="Vrag"] and the difference between the woman she knew on the battlefield and the woman she saw now – clad in an impeccably tailored suit, working some semi-androgynous realness – was striking. “You look...” She caught her lower lip in one fang, trying to come up with the right word, looking the much taller woman over. “…enticing.” She smirked, a predatory tip of the head before flicking her near-black gaze between her friend and the stranger on her arm. “Who’s your friend?”

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

 

[Corey's OOC]

Of course Marek Starcahser knew people. And that was the thing, he'd get stopped for the people he knew. Taking [member="Sitara Qin"] by the hand, and giving her curves and dress another once over, what was this, a third over? Fifth? Really? He followed the look with a smile. Sometimes Marek could be polite. Sometimes. "For someone? Well, I mean, I'm just seeing who is here. If I was looking for someone I think I've already got that covered." He offered her a sly wink before he heard his name called.

Ah yes, his favorite Chiss. Taking his hand, he nodded. "Mr. [member="Cryax Bane"]. Seems Coruscant is treating you well." He kept abreast of the situations that went on, especially in his corner of the galaxy. "I do what I can to bring it, what's got you out on Bastion?" A long way from home, wasn't he? This Chiss though, he was someone Marek wanted to hire almost full time. Maybe he'd get [member="Jennifer Blanchard"] to meet with him, they would have a lot in common.

"Tara, ths is Cryax Bane. Scoundrel, professional gambler, and I think computer expert, innit that right, Cryax?" Marek smirked making up something that wasn't 'crime lord and organ thief' on the fly. Hs fellow hedonist was definitely someone Marek wanted to get to know better. Certain people were just that much fun.

 

[Kerrick Sereta]

There were many things one could have said or done to dissuade Cryax from any further behavior of this caliber, but Kerrick didn't feel like making a scene so soon. Time for that would come later, if it did at all, and xe had a feeling there would be many more chances to do so. Right now it was best to make do with what they had, which currently included one very intoxicated Chiss and a decidedly more sober near-human. No matter what insistences the man slurred, xe knew it was already more or less determined that a careful eye would have to be kept on him for the duration of the night and then some. When people said there was never a dull moment when it came to work like this, it never seemed so literal until the moment when such a thing was right in front of you. This was one of those aforementioned moments.

"Right." Careful, there. Any perceived insult was bound to have less than savory effects. When clearheaded Cryax had proven to be volatile enough, and said reactions were only increased by any sort of substance. "All things considered, I think you need a friendly face around tonight." In other words, someone to assure that he didn't do anything exponentially stupid. And from one look at things, that would only become more necessary as he continued to ingest alcohol and spice at this rate. It didn't matter much, in the long run. If a spectacle was going to be made, it had likely already been done. The only thing left to do was be certain that no one would be hurt in the process, and no property damaged. At this point it was only the little things that mattered. Keeping up a larger picture of sobriety was a lost cause, in the larger eye of those other guests.

A hand reached up to help Cryax steady himself, falling to xir side as soon as the man was properly on his feet once more. Nodding respectfully to [member="Marek Starchaser"] and [member="Sitara Qin"] as they approached, xe remained silent, not making any introductions unless it was asked of xem. The new arrivals, or at the very least the male, were friends of the Chiss, or at least business acquaintances. Either was sufficient enough, because in the long run it just meant more people to contend with. Neither of the two seemed to mind, or notice for that matter, the fact that Cryax was far less than in an adequate state to hold any kind of formal conversation. At least he had the sense to attempt to appear as some sort of professional, even if he wasn't entirely there. A quality that could be appreciated, so long as a habit wasn't made of this.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

As if he was worried about being bitten.

Context is a funny little thing. Fun was a foreign substance to Hal Terrano, like an A Class drug that was illegal and completely off limits. Force forbid that he had fun, as if it might have turned him to the Dark Side right there and then but never mind that. Back to the context…

As Vrag so thoughtfully threatened him to have fun, the dejected man's mind immediately flashed backwards to one Avalore Eden, who seemingly stalked the fringes of his mind to knock the wind out of him when he was feeling vulnerable enough, which was unfortunately most of the time. Trying to push thoughts of her down was playing out as effectively as his own emotional suppression had.

There were flashes of the past. A festival. Atrociously bright cotton candy and funnel cakes. Almost humorous how such bright imagery could cause so much pain. Where that very same Jedi Healer had once threatened him to have fun...and yet...

...context.

The sea of faces around them were a thankful haze. He recognised no-one and in return nobody recognised him. At least that was something that could put his heart at ease, anonymity spared at least a small notion of shame. Albeit a very small notion.

With a tightness in his chest that could have only been the beginning clutches of anxiety Hal was about to make a solid beeline for the bar, where he would have likely sat for the entirety of the night and hung his head as if he were a character in a neo-noir holovid. That wasn't to be just yet, as the woman who he hung off of was confronted by conversation.

Conversation regarding him.

Typically he remained silent, features laced in that ever present tragic frown. It was so funny how, just by posture Vrag seemed so much taller despite their identical physical height Of course, by comparison they both towered above this woman. Stature was never an indication of power however, with Hal himself being the particular proof in that pudding.

---

[member="Vrag"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Drapeam Nyx"]

 

[Hans Vaiden]

It was, in that moment, that Hans turned from an Imperial soldier into that innocent, naive boy again. Girls were never really his expertise and he was, surprisingly, largely inexperienced with the way they though and worked. Only through an innate knack for saying the right thing at the right time and his signature witty remarks did he ever really manage to attract female attention. In his formative years, he was always without the attention of his high school dream girl. Usually Hans was enthralled by his early military studies or was too busy plaguing the local populace of aliens with his humanocentric beliefs.

As such, his hands explored her anatomy with great curiousness. Warm lips mingled with her and the sharing of saliva ensued, though he pulled away occasionally to make sure none of that mess got on him or his date. To see two Imperial officers "making out" was often a subject to avoid in conversation, the Captain was thankful for their lack of company at the moment. Their hot breath flavored with alcohol and pre-date mints lingered in the air as warm skin touched.

It was almost too good to be true.

The climax of their intense little moment was cut short once Tmoxin tentatively pulled away. Green eyes filled with lust, but her words quickly silenced the ones threatening to spill out of his mouth. Right, there's always a time and place for this kind of thing. Oh well, at least he knew that this night was definitely going to be eventful.

Hans grinned at her touch, drawing up his own fingers to pull a lock of stray strawberry hair behind her ear. "That sounds like a good idea. We wouldn't want them thinking we ditched their lame party to go have a little fun, now would we?"

And with that, he smoothly rose from his seat with Tmoxin's hand in his before they set out to reenter the throne room.

[member="Tmoxin Temi"]

 

[Vrag]

In certain ways, the chatter and clatter of a ball weren't that different from the explosions and screams of a battlefield… except, you know, for the explosions and screams. Well, maybe the occasional scream, but Vrag suspected those would grow in frequency once they got to the fun part — the executions, if you hadn't caught on to the Sith gig yet. The point of this rather wayward analogy was that the Hand of the Dark Lord felt comfortable in the constant flux of voices and sounds, the pressure of the crowd around her making her feel as homely as someone like her ever could. Ironic, really, that one should feel so relaxed in the company of the Galaxy's most notorious killers, tyrants and regular columnists of Genocide Weekly.

Before the writer could develop that joke any further, Vrag realized someone was whispering into her ear, and it was a certain someone she'd made sure couldn't utter not a word more. It was… quite some time ago now, on Cularin, in the ruins that burned despite the hail of rain from above. It had been a decisive day, the first of the many Crusades to come, and they had ground that world to dust. She had ground that world to dust, in some capacity. And a woman, too.

A woman who apparently couldn't accept the peace and quiet of oblivion. Oh, bother.

The shimmering blue apparition materialized again, this time between a rather inebriated couple of Sith that she knew well from the battlefield. It wasn't them she was looking at, though, it was the ghost of a Jedi whose life she had taken in the scorched ruins of that forgotten enclave. Her piercing eyes narrowed for a moment as she attempted to make out the words being mouthed at her through the din of the party, her grip on Hal's arm tightening as she did. It was finally becoming clear what the source of all those whisperings had been — she would never admit she'd considered her own mind — and surprisingly enough, it made the firrerreo calmer than before.

Now, you're probably asking yourself what the writer was thinking at this point, but if you scrap together some more patience, she'll get around to explaining. So; you see, Vrag is a creature who isn't overly fond of mind-trickery of any kind, for in a Galaxy full of space-magic and those who know how to manipulate it, such a thing is easily dangerous. As someone who was absolute crap at dealing with it, Vrag preferred to avoid it if at all possible, because, you know, self-preservation instincts are strong in this one.

Speaking of mindkarking, there goes [member="Matsu Xiangu"]!

She was grateful for the distraction from the ghost, not so much because the kill would bear on her conscience — she'd left that baggage somewhere along the road, a long, long time ago — but rather because her own thoughts were on the brink of betraying her. Damn Forcers. She hid her sudden bout of discomfort behind a generous swig of her drink, giving herself just a few more seconds to collect a briefly shattered composure.

Bad idea, Vraggo.

The firrerreo nearly choked on her drink at the look that the Sith Lady shot her, and she had only years of gambling experience to thank that the alcohol didn't go spraying everywhere. Boy, would've that ruined the mood. She had to forcibly pry her gaze from those lips, entirely forgetful of the fact that she wasn't wearing her armor, which in turn meant that her thoughts would read like an open book to Iron Maiden. Oh, well. There were worse ways to die.

"Likewise, Matsu," she managed to utter as her throat cleared somewhat, and though strained, her words were as sincere as anything coming from her mouth would ever be.

She blinked away the tears that came unbidden to her eyes — probably from the alcohol that hadn't gone down all that nice — and offered a smile of her own to the hauntingly beautiful monster of a woman. God, she would love to f— what the hell did they put in those drinks? The firrerreo cast a surreptitious glance to the glass in her hand, then met Matsu's black eyes again. This party, as expected, was going splendidly.

"Oh, him? He's not a friend," the woman grinned, flashing her own sharp canines at the petite Sith Lady. "Hal here is… " Vrag trailed off with a sigh, gesturing at the air in a vain search for words.

"Delectable," she finished as her grip on his arm faltered, and then the firrerreo sneaked her hand behind his back, copping a feel of that deliciously firm ass.

"Hal, say hello to the nice lady," the woman murmured into his ear just loud enough to be heard by Matsu too. She gave the former Jedi an insistent push towards the other Sith, her thoughts tripping over one another with the possibilities of what she could do to the man if Iron Maiden decided to lend the Hand a hand.

[member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Drapeam Nyx"] | [member="Jared Ovmar"]​

 

[Fareon]

Fareon had been walking through the crowded streets of Ravelin for nearly an hour before he reached his destination; the Imperial Palace. Reaching it wasn't too hard. All he needed to do was park his speeder a long walk away from the Palace, so as to not cause suspicion. From there, he had left his crimson overcoat behind, simply wearing what was underneath. After that, it was simply a matter of walking with the crowds to his destination, which took him quite a while. He had simply looked like just another face in the crowd. He slowly made his way to the palace, and broke away from the crowds. A few of the palace people had been taking trash out through the service entrance; his destination. They looked up, seeing a man stride towards them confidently, not a falter in his step. People tend to think that if you look like you belong in a place, you probably do, thought Fareon as he approached the group. He was confident that they wouldn't think he was trespassing, but he put a small calming thought in their mind as he walked to them to ensure that they didn't have much suspicion, if any. From there, it was simply a matter of walking through the door. He did so, and eventually made his way to a hallway without much trouble. After that, he waited until a server was coming, and acted as if he was lost. It didn't take much convincing; he had no clue where he was anymore, but he was exactly where he wanted to be.

 

[Sitara Qin]

“How sweet.” It wasn’t far too long till they had approached someone, or rather, it hadn’t been long till someone had approached them. Perhaps this [member="Marek Starchaser"] held more importance in the galaxy than she thought. Of course everyone who was anyone was a little modest of the importance they held; it was the nobodies who tried to make themselves look bigger than they actually were. Sitara smiled at the chiss man who approached them. Her pearly whites sparkly as she noticed another hovering behind him like a guardian.

The chiss, who introduced himself as [member="Cryax Bane"], seemed sweet at first. “Tara. Pleased to meet you.” She said, as his blue skinned skinned hand gently took hold of her paler one before planting a kiss on the back of her hand. She smiled at him softly as her head turned to Marek’s while he introduced him. A gambling scoundrel who was most probably a slicer, or perhaps this was all sugarcoated as well? Maybe he was something more than he really was, or was Marek just being nice?

Either way they were playing for the same team… Or were they? “That’s impressive. Must be a lot of work.” She grinned, biting her lip. Her eyes scanned his red ones and she’d occasionally glance back towards Marek. “I reckon you guys go way back.” She said, smiling sweetly.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Laguz Vald"]​

Anxiety, stress and fear. Familiar feelings to the Sith lord, he need not read her mind or search for signs past her marble features. It was familiarity born from experience and age, but Jared did not smile at the recognition. Simply because it served him nothing and would only embarrass her, emotions that could make her turn from simply caution to outright hostility.

Which ain’t exactly the play here, Jared. But what was the play?

In the grand scheme of things Ovmar had always been a creature of plots, playing the long con for some magnificent end. But today, there wasn’t any plots, any long con games he was playing and that made this entire conversation so much more easy really.

It meant that nothing was on the line, besides maybe a certain opportunity.

The Sith Lord extended his arm, in a way that she could walk with him.

‘Walk with me, miz Arceneau.’ Ovmar finally said. ‘I want to discuss with you that business arrangement we talked about a few months ago.’

There was no business arrangement a few months ago, Ovmar hadn’t seen Danger in as many as six years. But the wider world didn’t know that, and this was all for them. Because both of them knew that the other had seen through the illusions.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

It wasn't the first time that he had been told to shut his mouth, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last. Kiber liked to wield a blasé apathy towards threats upon his life and nose right until the pain began. Hey, you'd be surprised to find out just how many people are nothing but talk.

Of course, when push came to shove and the chains were out, with swords being brandished at his pointy-features the man had a tendency to crumble into a coward.

“Hey, when have I ever been a disappointment?” Kiber responded with feigned hurt in his voice, placing his hand over his heart as if she had truly emotionally wounded him. There was a brief pause as he let the moment settle. He was after all, the galaxy's greatest disappointment, a fact of which he was well aware.

“Oh, right.”

Wink.

With thoughts to his head on the chopping black, Dorn offered his arm to The Host Lord as she marched straight past him and out of the chamber. For a moment he stood there, the rejected arm hanging in the air awkwardly.

“We'll get there...” Kiber mumbled, before following after her, ready to make the entrance.

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax gave Marek a wide smile as the two men exchanged pleasantries, and when the other man introduced him as a "computer expert," he shrugged and waved his hand in mock-humility, even though it was blatantly obvious that he enjoyed the praise immensely.

"I'm here on Bastion for a little mixture of business and pleasure," he said. "This is one of my business partners, Kerrick." He smiled at his friend, who was looking at him with eyes that said, "don't kark this up, drunk boy."

Human and alien trafficking was considered distasteful in certain circles so he wasn't entirely sure if he should bring it up. Much less organ theft. Yes, the Chiss' hands had been very busy and very dirty lately. The blue cad was a far cry from the former suave (in his mind) figurehead of the Red Ravens.

He looked directly at Marek. "Perhaps the next time you're in Coruscant you could come by one of the new business ventures I'm involved in. The organization I'm with has a beautiful new casino with some very, uh, interesting shows. I can guarantee you've never seen anything like them in the galaxy." He glanced at Sitara. "Both of you are welcome, of course."

Just like a snake oil salesman, the Chiss passed along a flimsiplast card with an emblem on it, a wordmark of the CRC. on the back was a Holomail address. Finishing off his fifth, or was it sixth, drink, the Chiss looked at his chrono and glanced around the room.

"Anja and her ilk promised us executions," he said with a mock-pout. "I have to say, I'll be a little disappointed if they've been cancelled."

[member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Sitara Qin"] [member="Kerrick Ikon"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja hadn't noticed his feeble attempts and even if she did she would've still walked right past him. As far as being a disappointment went, she could agree that he wasn't anything to boast. When it came to apprentices there are those you parade and others who work hard with no praises to their name. Kiber proved to be neither of those. He had no praise-worthy feats and could not be called hardworking. If there was anything to call him it was meager, insufferable, and an annoyance.

So once again it all came around to the same question... Why was he still alive? Better yet; why was he in her presence? There are thousands within The Primeval who would indeed kill for such an honour as being the woman's apprentice, to serve the Host Lord. He, however, was chosen with no merit to his name; found in a drug den. Then it's probably not surprising that many within grasp would like to see the brat killed in order to get a chance at being hers to train.

The corridor continued straight for some time and eventually came to a corner with only one direction from there. Right. Before turning the corner and entering the scene, Anja once again gave her attention to Kiber.

"I will not keep my eye on you but when it's time to execute the prisoners I expect you to be around." She spoke plainly and as usual with little direction to go off of as far as reading her emotion. The enigmatic nature of the Host Lord's personality had from time-to-time caused one to be uncertain of her actions. She could be content or angry and you wouldn't know the difference.

After making sure what she said had soaked into the mind of [member="Kiber Dorn"] she turned the corner and walked through the modest doorway that lead into the grand hall where the throne room was. There were quite a many guests and most with faces she did not know. Foreign identities, invited by their ties to her allies. Most hosts would offer a speech and steal the spotlight for some reason or another. Some too would expect as much from the head of a religious body; a faction that kills indiscriminately those who do not align. Thus it comes to some as a surprise when the woman entered there was no ovation, chanting, or grand silence.

Rather she entered like anyone else, walking over to the throne where an aide awaited her.

"Your Worship, shall I announce your arrival?" The man bowed to her as she approached.

"No, let's not spoil the exchange shared between guests." Anja looked around the room and set her eyes on those within her sight. Rather than taking the pretentious seat to her rear, the shorter than expected witch walked into the crowd. This aroused caution amongst the various guards who stood watch. By those they conquered, there are rumors that spread of a woman who stands as tall as a giant but the 1.72 meter Umbaran hardly fit the description and seemed rather average in appearance.

A rather reluctant Anja did not approach any of the guests just yet; she wasn't exactly a socialite. It wouldn't be too long that the executions began and when that point came so would the formalities. A brief speech, a crowd, and death; followed by the slave auction to the climax of celebration.

[member="Cryax Bane"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Alric Kuhn"] | [member="Silara Kuhn"] | [member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Sitara Qin"] | [member="Fareon"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Hans Vaiden"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Jacen Cavill"] | [member="Disciple"] | [member="Perla Pirjo"] | [member="Kerrick Ikon"] | [member="Drapeam Nyx"] | [member="Destiny"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Lorelei Darke"] | [member="Inger Strömfire"] | [member="Delyna Karthoys Haymire"] | [member="Yvette Dusong"] | [member="Sena Lassiter"] |

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek wasn’t so sure about sweet. At least not for sweet’s sake. Honest, mostly. [member="Sitara Qin"] was not a bad person to get on his arm, he figured. The trick was, discovering just who her Master was, and rubbing it in their face being especially cautious in that situation. He was not the type of person to offer falsehoods and hope that things worked out. Marek just didn’t play those games. He was too good for that. Well, nowadays.

Business and pleasure, on this world? Marek could accept that. He nodded as [member="Cryax Bane"] introduced the one now known as Kerrick. “Pleasure. What kind of business are you into, Kerrick?” Marek said, stepping a bit closer to Tara, just out of habit, and body language. He hadn’t really any knowledge on [member="Kerrick Ikon"], and that was almost refreshing. Almost.

“Well, you know I always enjoy checking out competitors. How is the casino game in the Core?” Not that Marek was making moves that way. His cruises and resorts were fine in the South systems, for now. “I’ll be sure to make it in, been meaning to discuss some things with the One Sith as it was.” Alliances, haring of industry, base construction, that sort of deal. And then the conversation got heavy.

Executions. Sometimes, definitely when they were needed, they were fine, but sometimes they were unsavory. “So, is that the business or pleasure side?” H really needed to hire the Chiss, or at least retain him.