Faction The Coronation Ball [First Order | Invited Guests]

[John Locke]

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Location: Dosuun | South of Avalonia | Rosewood Castle
Wearing: Wait for it...a tuxedo
Accompanying: Gianna Aegis
Also as part of invite: Allyson Locke
Nearby: Darth Metus | Srina Talon | Visanj T'shkali | Darth Empyrean | Ariel Yvarro | Adron Malvern | Daegon Corvinus

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It was the calm before the storm.

That moment of silence before the cocoon around them broke, before the brassey sound of trumpets, the roar of fighter engines and the crackle of fireworks could be heard. Before the lights of the estate and the lure of the great hall washed over them. That little moment of calm before the door would open and they’d have to step out into the party, to the waiting eyes and ear. Fingers tapped a soft nonsense rhythm against the leather seat of the speeder as dark eyes watched the looming sight of the castle approaching.

There was no doubt that the First Order had gone all-out with the spectacle, the grounds of the ancient castle had taken on the look of something out of a holofilm, something that didn’t quite look real. John hated the limelight, he knew that about himself, he’d rather spend a night in a workshop or curled up at home than at a social or gala. Yet something seemed determined to force him to step up, for his business, for the Confederacy he’d found his home in, it was important to show the face, to be present, to be seen. The moment was coming, maybe even mere seconds away, but for now silence, the calmness of the car winding along the path. Away from the stares, the judgement and whispers. The eyes looking for any sign of weakness, any opportunity that they could seize and use.

Those eyes, their owners…if the setting for this ball was like something out of a holofilm, the attendants completed the picture. The great and the bold of the galaxy all gathered together in one place, the movers and shakers. Those upon whose word nations rose and fell, who could change the face of the galaxy with a single thought or action. For the engineer who had grown up in the slums of Coronet City it was terrifying to be in this place, seeing these people. That 5-year-old who had first stared at a broken droid and thought ‘what if’ would never have believed that he could be here, would never have believed that it was possible. For the Exarch and Businessman? It was just another day. Somewhere along the line, this had become his life, he had become one of those people and that was terrifying in a way that John couldn’t put into words.

He’d never wanted it, never sought it and yet life had found its way, drawing him here with a sense of purpose that bordered on the inevitable. Hands clenched for a moment, a silent movement but John could still hear it. In the back of his head the mechanical whirring of his first set of prosthetics, those cheap metal limbs that had signalled the close of one chapter of his life, the end of that 5 year-old’s dreams of a small shop in a small town. He’d needed to do better, grow big enough, powerful enough that he could stop the same tragedy from happening to anyone who worked for him again. Somehow he’d done it…but the price he’d paid had been tremendous, had left scars across his flesh and soul. Nightmares that haunted his dreams and ghosts that weighed on his every waking moment.

Yet if he had to do it again, live his life again, he wouldn’t change a single thing. He’d always made the best choice he could and any regrets, any ghosts, those were the price he had chosen to pay. Besides…it hadn’t all been bad, the accident, his choices, they had left scars but they’d also let him experience things beyond his wildest dreams, allowed him to make friends that he never dreamed existed. None better than the flame-haired Jedi who accompanied him.

Gianna Aegis.

The woman had who somehow slipped through his guard, the defences of a lifetime spent fighting for his survival in the harsh world of galactic politics and commerce as if they hadn’t existed. Somehow she’d become as essential to him as breathing. the embodiment of light and colour, of all that was good in the universe.

He’d fallen in love with his best friend.

And somehow, she’d fallen in love with him.

It was almost like a holofilm, but what holofilm would be complete without a tragedy, without the vows and ideals that prevented anything more. John knew that the woman struggled with her feelings as much as he did, had seen it writ across her face, yet she was still here. That meant…everything.

The man’s head twisted to the side, dark eyes catching sight of the familiar red hair, the bright smile that never seemed to be too far from her lips. The sight drawing a smile to his own, a smile that reached all the way to his eyes as the doors swung open, the sound of the trumpets and the light of the party washing over the man like a tsunami. It was perhaps the difference between that and the quiet comfort of the car that made it seem like such a stunning spectacle, much he assumed as their hosts had intended.

A hand waved away the valet, shoes crunching on the gravel as John hurried around the car, pulling the door open and holding out his hand for the woman’s. Feeling the slightness, the delicacy of her hand in his as John took half a step back, helping the Jedi out of the car. He could feel the warmth of her hand against his arm as dark eyes flicked up to the grand spectacle of the castle.

“Thank you for coming, I know you didn’t have to.”

The man’s voice was soft, his words meant only for the flame-haired woman at his side, a moment of intimacy before they stepped into the hallway. Before the spectacle, the pull of the occasion would wash over them. Dark-eyes flicked back towards the cars, the light of amusement dancing in his eyes as they turned back to Gianna.

“You know…it’s not too late to leave, I’m sure there’s a restaurant in the city that’s still open.”

That playful smile, a shared moment of lightness as the next car pulled up behind them, the guests still arriving in a cavalcade that seemed like an endless snake, winding back out of the grounds. The herald looking irritably at them. The cyborg could hear a speech, the sound of the music starting, swelling, filling the silence left in the air after the woman’s voice had died away. He knew the Vicelord and his entourage had arrived earlier, that his cousin had slipped away when they arrived and would be found somewhere in the castle. A host of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, of connections to be made and reinforced.

The never-ending dance of business and politics that seemed to consume every waking second.

It was important, but…not the most important thing. John swore he could hear a roomful of executives and board members groan in disappointment, and somewhere across space the sound of an AI whooping in joy.

It could wait.

“Would you like to get a drink?”

 

[Robogeber]

A C C I D E N T
Victims: Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus
Attire: Uniform | Rank Plaque | Broach | Face ​

Carlyle accompanied the Sovereign Imperator to the vicinity of the star of the evening, Natasi Fortan, before he noticed who else was in his orbit. Carnifex. The Emperor Carnifex. The Grand Admiral paused, and froze, watching in silent horror as his new boss approached his former superior, and in turn, his own former master. The tension. The embarrassment? He could not be associated with that sort of mess. Not here. Not in front of her, of all people. She still more than certainly scared him more than anyone else. Biting his courage, the Grand Admiral disappeared into the throng of fellow dignitaries. Gloved hand running through the faux hair, provided by his holographic facade.

The warlord only stopped when the announcement of a toast began to echo across the room. All attention was drawn to... Yvarro? No, not the senior one, but... Ariel? And a Moff? At such an age? Although he did reason that Dosuun's wars had bled it dry of many of its stock through the years of conquest, war and desolation. Still, if she were a leader, he would hardly be one to deny it. Even if the spectre of nepotism hung over her appointment. Never the less, the Grand Admiral listened, and smiled at her words. It was a sense of calming to hear them. Even if his loyalties lay officially elsewhere, it was this world and the Empire that sprung from it that had made him into the man. Or really, droid, that he had become. And there it sat with him. Guilt, bubbling to the surface that he had not been there to provide aid. To have been there for this moment. He had already quite literally, given everything for the First Order. Maybe not this one. But the same cause, and the same people.

Distraught, the man turned his back to the stage once the address finished, and the melodic orchestra returned to provide ambience to the evening. He could feel the conflict bubbling within him. Rigid calculations of his tactical computer vying for command against the raw emotion of the ghost he was to emulate. Coming here had been a mistake. A grave one which was causing so much anxiety that had never manifested itself in this way. Was this remorse? Sorrow? Or was it more insidious. Fear? Jealousy perhaps? It was all so confusing as his processors, algorithm's and processes competing for supremacy as to what to feel against these waves of illogical emotion. Anger and resentment now festered. This was where he should have been right? He had done everything in his power to preserve the order, and yet now it stood on its own two feet without his input, support or even plans. What had gone wrong? It taunted his every thought as he aimlessly strode through the ball.

The Grand Admiral's empty musings and thoughts were intruded upon when he stumbled into someone. The officer stood tall, and his eyes cast themselves down upon the petite figure whom he'd launched into. Cursed navigational system. He was certain he'd need to have his diagnostics checked after this. Nevertheless, the Grand Admiral's 'skin' flashed an apologetic smile which then faded to grimace. She was blind. Of course she was bloody blind. Now he looked like a major jackhole, having accidentally assailed a blind person.

Nevertheless, the Grand Admiral's posture straightened, "Sincerest apologies ma'am. I was... Distracted. By the uh, the energy of this congregation." The imperial warlord offered, before bowing his head slightly, bejewelled rank plaque and broach glistening in the light. His eyes then cast upon her, and then her shabby looking companion, "And to you sir, of course." The officer curtly added, before offering a hand to the evidently, sight impaired woman. Before then meekly retracting. Perhaps this was an out of sorts however. They seemed like strangers. Especially the greasy haired fellow in the tacky suit. Nevertheless, politeness protocols kicked in. This was after all a formal event, and perhaps the chance to network. While this First Order might not have needed himself, he was still critical to the New Imperial war effort. "I seem to have forgotten my manners," Rausgeber added, his confidence slowly returning, "Rausgeber," He offered his hand now to the greasily attired gentleman of the pair.

"Grand Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber. At your service."

 

[Nylea Apollodor]

Nylea was thankful for the fact she had taken some refresher dancing lessons before the ball. She had learned everything she knew during her childhood, but those skills had been completely left unused since. With the practice beforehand she felt a lot more confident and unafraid to step onto the dancefloor.

"That sounds good," Nylea responded to Elisea's suggestion with a nod, even if it meant having a little more patience. She had been keeping this secret for weeks already, a little longer had to be doable. Focusing on her breathing kept the echani relatively calm, even while the waves of anxiety continued their attempts at breaking through. Between her own plan and the environment she felt out of place in, she was holding up better than she expected of herself.

"We can get a drink and watch the orchestra while we wait," the woman remarked as a tray with drinks passed by them. She took two glasses off and handed one to Elisea, offering a toast. Nylea didn't drink alcohol, but she would make an exception here. One glass of champagne to keep her nerves in check.

As she took a sip, Elisea asked a question that made the echani think. While many preconceptions she had about imperial nations had been proven wrong, she still felt a little out of place. She still disagreed with the political structure and doubted she'd ever fully get accustomed to imperial culture, but the evils she had witnessed coming from other imperial nations weren't present here. Having a little place in the vast galaxy to call home though was something she had missed.

"The outside perspective does paint imperials in general in a bad light," Nylea's answer sounded, "it is very easy to see everything in black and white. Living here taught me a lot."

The music died down, prompting Nylea to cast her attention towards the stage. In silence she listened to the speech, making the conscious effort not to let her old, deeply negative views on imperialism cloud her judgment. Despite her reservations, she would always remain respectful. This new First Order had shown themselves to be a different nation, not one that lived by war and conquest.

The speech concluded and music began playing once more; a waltz. Nylea turned to look at Elisea once more, her hand still holding the Avalonian's.

"Shall we, then?"

Elisea Korrado ​

 

[Gianna Aegis]

Tag: John Locke
________________________________________________________________​

Such a gentleman.

It seemed that no matter the sin she committed he was always right there. She had taken his memories on a night just like this one. Stolen them, as he had stolen a kiss. Of course, she had given them back with some very sage advice from a friend. It had been nigh unbearable. There was something to be said for the weight of wrongdoing. The flame-haired woman was not built to withstand such burdens of her own making. She had always acted with goodness. She followed the path of what she believed to be right. At that moment—It had felt right.

To ease his suffering. To remove that which would forever be just out of his reach. The cruelest thing in the universe was to give someone the blessing of light; of the sun—Then take it away. Never to be warm again. Never to be seen again. That was the pain that she had sought to remove.

It had taught her a valuable lesson.

Sometimes, pain wasn’t hers to take.

Gianna took the hand that John offered and let him help her out of the hovering vehicle. It wasn’t simply because it was the polite thing to do. It was because she needed the help. A war had been waged on a world far, far away, and the Jedi Knight had found herself entrenched in the violence. She had done her best. But her best was nowhere near enough. To defeat a malevolent wave such as the Bryn’adûl required a strength of will that she did not have. She could not take life when there was another way.

Couldn’t—Wouldn’t—And there was always another way.

Her refusal to act had cost her. The guilt that she held inside from holding back; from debating on not holding back still pulled her down as if a weight had been attached to the tip of her heart. She was nowhere near full strength but she simply couldn’t stay in bed any longer. The opportunity to get out of Spritegate Shore, even for a night, was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Being alone with her thoughts, licking her wounds, was simply not productive.

John thanked her and she offered a soft, sweet smile, in return. He was always thinking of her. Even when he hadn’t a shred of memory to tell him to do so he had come to check on her regardless. “I know.”, she offered lightly as her arm slipped through his. Both out of habit and a need for stability. Even though the Knight seemed to have mostly recovered on the outside her wounds were deep. Her form was still bruised beneath the expensive wrap. Exhaustion still plagued her and her head still ached with bright lights.

Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to be somewhere in which literal skyflowers were going off.

A light laugh pulled from her when the Exarch offered to go. It was a pleasing sound, high and lilting, that made the brightness of her aura shine all the more. For every member of the Sith that traveled the shadowed path; she was the antitheses to that. To know her, to be near her, to simply pass by her in the foyer brought an inherent sense of peace and contentment. She brought hope into existence in such a way that it almost felt tangible. In that regard—It would be difficult for anything to press it down.

Even near-death hadn’t done that.

“We can’t leave yet, Mr. Locke. You spent so much on all of this…I would feel awful to waste it.”

The soft pink and gold wrap-dress that he had requisitioned for her felt like butter on her skin. It was so soft, so smooth, that it almost felt foreign. She didn’t own anything fancy enough for an event like this. A coronation of all things. Gianna wished to come because it was absolutely a historic moment. It was something she wanted to lay her own eyes to. The rise of a new nation was extremely significant. Especially, since so many were falling in the Eastern Reaches of the galaxy.

She enjoyed the speech. It was to the point and made her feel as if she were being swept away with pride for the newly established First Order. Gianna hoped that it would be different this time. That they had learned from the past, rather, than be doomed to repeat it. She also hoped the same for the Galactic Alliance. By the time it ended, though, she was already feeling a little light-headed. A little weary. She pulled the pale green and gold embroidered shawl a little tighter around her arms. Her hair was styled in easy waves with a little sprig of flowers holding it back from her face with a clip.

As her companion asked if she wanted a drink, she nodded her head. “And a little air?”, the request was sheepish. They had only just arrived and she already needed out of the crowd.

 

[Adron Malvern]

PARTY​

Tags: Alessandra Creed | Xobos Yakieer | Freyu Molidias ​

Wearing: This​

How very interesting.

As they traveled in the Motorcade to the castle, the Exarch ran a hand along the ornate walking cane he had crafted specifically for this event. The head cane was formed from a beautiful metal into the shape of a snarling wolf, while the staff was crafted with Winter Oak wood from his homeworld of Illyria. In their private car, Adron sat beside his beloved, Alessandra Creed with his eyes firmly fastened to the cane in his hands. He spoke in a low, even tone, that was directed towards Freyu Molidias and Xobos Yakieer who would be acting as his bodyguards for the evening.

"Xobos you will immediately verify all exit points, primary and secondary, that can be used for the most expeditious exit if needs be. Freyu, your one and only concern this night is the Queen. You will accompany her everywhere she goes, whether she be at my side or not. At no point in time will she be alone, am I understood?" He looked to these two with a pointedly agitated expression. It was to be expected. He did not trust this First Order. He trusted them no more than the laundry list of state enemies that would be in attendance.

Did he expect there to be any treachery? No, of course not. However, he would be prepared regardless.

His family never imagined they would be slaughtered like cattle in his childhood, either.

He wrapped his hands over the head of the walking cane before turning to Alessandra. He'd devoted countless hours of thought to this event and finally he decided that he was to attend. Of course, his Queen would not have him attend with nothing more than his guard or staff, and she certainly would not see him alone, so she had come as well. It set the King at ease, while also making the situation that much more dire. "If the First Order has replaced itself into the galactic scene then this will be a momentous event. One we may even be able to use to our advantage. Still, it is too much to leave to chance." His hand reached over to take Alessandra's, a single finger rolling over the ring he'd placed upon her hand when he declared he wished to marry her. His lips curled into a slight smile when he remembered that day, with no small bit of stress.

As the motorcade came to a stop, the King looked to his Queen and offered her warm words before they stepped into the dance of dragons and vipers. "I love you." He needed say nothing else. The door came open and the King stepped out, his eyes taking in the number of individuals making their way inside of the castle. He found his eyes meeting those of the Vicelord, Darth Metus . He was sure his expression reflected the curiosity mixed with distrust that fell from the man. Still, as they prepared to enter, Adron offered his wife his arm. "Allow me to escort you this evening?" He said in a slightly teasing tone. Once Alessandra had taken his arm, the man would step forward to lead her in beside the rest of The Confederate party. His eyes were keen, yet he looked to his wife with a curiosity. "You have ties to the First Order. What do you make of this? Will your mother be attending? Isn't she favored amongst their elite?" He asked curiously.

The King adjusted the purple and silver tie that was woven around his neck. He decided for this evening he would wear a fusion of Classical Illyrian Courtwear and a more modern tuxedo that could be seen in the more elite of the Outer Rim. He had actually been rather impressed with his tailors on the speediness and preciseness of their craft. They had formed the suit in only two days and done it to the man's exact specifications.
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[Darth Empyrean]

Wearing: [X]
With: Srina Talon

Garbed in the bare minimum for one of the richest men in the galaxy, he entered the venue with his arm entwined around Srina’s own; trailing behind many of the other guests that had been invited to the still relatively beggared First Order ball - reeking once again of their nationalism. He remembered small time dealings with the Knights of Ren when he was still but an acolyte with no name of his own; and yet those times were spent mocking them, befuddling their very best with simple words when he was still unable to beat them with swords.​

​

Now, he was sure he could both annoy them with witty quips, and still kill everyone that stepped poorly to the maturing Maliphant. He was, however, uncomfortable they wouldn’t allow a lightsaber for anyone - though it was understandable. He had made no more than a mental protest for it, knowing all too well that there were more than a few Sith here that didn’t much care for him, nor them. Besides Srina, he was more a single shark in a swarm of piranha.​

​

A shame - though as Srina had thought, it was rare for Sith of their nature to actually require a lightsaber to do damage. And with the Knights of Ren a mere shadow of their former selves, he didn’t have to trust the First Order as much as know they wouldn’t be able to kill so many of the leading Force Users in the galaxy on a mere whim.​

​

As Metus walked away, telling his confidants to mingle, Maliphant reached a hand around Srina’s chin, pulling her face towards his for a small peck on her temple. Gentle, no more than was necessary to remind her he was there, of the passion he carried for her, but his eyes still wandered the crowds.​

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“As much as I want a drink, Srina, it doesn’t seem appropriate.”, he said with a quiet intonation.​

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“A few too many faces here have either wanted me dead once or currently do. Better we just dance, lest I say something poor to someone I shouldn’t - like the ‘Lord of Stench’ himself.”​

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Maliphant jested with an equally quiet smile. Subtle in its nature, and he dragged her towards the Dance floor as only he could - as there was that distinct independence she held against anyone else. She acquiesced to his lead, and when they found an open spot they began with a simple step back and forth - Maliphants hand on her waist, and the other thumbing her palm.​

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“Diplomacy such as this is such a bore, don’t you think? The only person I could see enjoying it less is Caulder Dune . That man has special hate in his heart for gatherings of more than 3 people.”, Maliphant said with a quiet smugness - knowing that Adekos, wherever he was at present, would feel the burning of his nose.​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Rosewood Castle
Dosuun, First Order space
Interactions: Robogeber | Taeli Raaf | Fiolette Raaf

She was late. Awfully late.

Madelyn Lowe brushed her hair out of her face, having a short word with the driver and stepping out onto the driveway in front of Rosewood Castle, her heels clacking against the stone as she stepped out of the vehicle. It was a cool night, and Madelyn was glad she had elected to wear a suit - a meticulously tailored and form-fitting two-piece in black with a crimson shirt beneath, complete with a pair of high stilettos and a small pin on the lapel, emblem of her Empire.

Once, Madelyn simply wouldn’t have allowed herself to arrive late to such an event, especially one with the significance of the night’s. Unfortunately of late she had gained a penchant for tardiness, a habit that would have never been acceptable back in her old job here on Dosuun, nor on Varonat. Perhaps then, it was the Sith rubbing off on her in some way. She grimaced at the thought.

Warm light spilled out of the front doors, and Madelyn breezed through them, presenting her credentials and handing off her long, dark coat to one of the attendants as she passed through. Did she catch a glint of reverence in their eyes? Perhaps, but maybe not. Certainly they knew who she was, her history in the Order. Did they respect her for it, resent her? Oftentimes Madelyn herself if she was a traitor or an ally.

The checkpoint gave way to the entrance hall, and Madelyn allowed herself to revel in the First Imperial trappings while she was led across the rich carpeting. It was evocative of some bygone era, which she supposed made sense. After all, it had been almost a full decade since the First Order was last at its zenith. The effect was strange, like walking through a memory. Finally, she stepped into the ballroom.

Stepping into the space, Madelyn’s pale green eyes flickered from guest to distinguished guest. There were so many people to talk to, so many oddities and figures she had seen on holoscreens, read about in reports, and, in some cases, agonised over in war rooms. Not far from her, a gaggle of Sith and Eternal Empire guests assembled, chatting to one another. She knew each of them, from one event or another, except @Ingrid L’erim, Overlord of the Eternal Empire. They had not yet had the pleasure of meeting.

She continued looking around the room, a few figures catching her eye, including a woman on the other side of the room by the bar she thought might have been Allyson Locke . She reminded herself to say hello once she’d gone through the formalities of greeting the officials. She saw yet more Sith, including the imposing figures of Joycelyn Zambrano and Darth Prazutis . Her eyes fell across the gaggle of New Imperials, slowly spreading from their close-knit congregation throughout the room. A feeling of disgust washed over her, but she let it pass, and a moment later her eyes widened as she recognised a man in the group, a man who, by any right, ought to be dead. Of course, she’d heard the rumours and seen the reports, but it was different seeing him, Carlyle Rausgeber in the flesh, or so to speak. Whispers had reached her that the man had a grand new vision for her world, for Prefsbelt. Madelyn decided she’d never liked him.

Nodding politely to a dignitary here and a statesperson there, Madelyn strolled through the crowded space, her gaze still scanning the crowd intently. Rausgeber conversing with guests she didn’t recognise, and on a whim, Madelyn steered herself towards him, noting with a smile the man had not noticed her presence as she drew close. She stopped just behind him, looking up to the front of the room and listening respectfully to Moff Ariel Yvarro, a woman who was day-by-day proving her worth to her Order, giving a speech to the attendees. As the applause subsided, Madelyn sidled up behind Rausgeber, greeting him in a low voice, watching the hologram closely, as if to catch it flickering.

“Long time no see, traitor.” Said Madelyn slyly. “Strange to be back home, hmm?” She laughed airily, and snagged a glass of something sparkling from a passing waitstaff. “Like travelling back in time.” Madelyn glanced disapprovingly at the man’s uniform. Such a fall from grace, to be associated with such… Unrefined stock as the New Imperials. Was the famous Grand Admiral Rausgeber not associated with First Imperial virtue? She wondered if he truly seemed smaller, or her perception was coloured by her feelings towards the apostates. Madelyn gave the man a moment to respond, but she had to move on, so she shook her head ruefully and stalked away.

Beyond the New Imperial Grand Admiral, the crowd thinned slightly, and Madelyn could more clearly see the assembled groups of partygoers. She paused, wondering who to bother first. Not far away, Darth Carnifex , Natasi Fortan , and Irveric Tavlar were assembled, a group that would certainly provide some fascinating conversation. But, she decided, she would work up to them. Something in her gut writhed at the thought of greeting the Supreme Leader, though she supposed she would have to do so eventually. The whole affair disturbed her some. Instead, she elected to greet the ever-elegant ladies Raaf, turning and weaving her way towards them, pausing only to shoot a glare in the direction of Tyrell Paxxus as she spotted him in the crowd. When she reached the Raafs, she beamed widely and gave both of them a respectful nod, her heart growing icy as her eyes met Fiolette’s.

“Lovely evening Lady Arcanix, Mrs Raaf, and what an occasion! It’s Dosuun as it hasn’t been seen in a decade.” Her words were polite, but, despite herself, slightly tinged with unease.

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Tags: Adron Malvern | Valessia Brentioch
Attire: 123456

She was anxious.​

​

Alessandra didn’t know why. She had plainly stared down all manner of mogul and annoying galactic tax auditor without so much as breaking a sweat. This was different. Since this was a Confederate affair—They were not claimed as Illyrian. None of these people here, save a small, knowledgeable few, would realize that they were simultaneously ruling a planet as well. In some ways she preferred it. The Minister of Commerce was growing accustomed to being referred to as “majesty” but it was still a lot to take in.​

​

She put on a proud, strong face, because it was required. Why was it crumbling now?​

​

Valessia Brentioch.​

​

Her mother was a woman of many talents, of intrigue, and had never failed to always know what was going on in her life even if she hadn’t said a word. Aries was on Illyria. She wasn’t certain that his grandmother would be terribly pleased with that. It didn’t matter that this coronation wasn’t really conducive to a rambunctious child tearing through it. He didn’t get to see her nearly enough and vice versa, though, he had spent time with her when the Confederacy was a little less stable.​

​

She looked out from the viewport of the hovering town car while chocolate eyes scanned the darkened skyline. There were fireworks. Music. Everything seemed so festive that it almost made her forget that were essentially exposed. They waited patiently due to the formalities required. She remembered this from when she was young. “It shouldn’t be long…”, she murmured to her husband, reaching up, to smooth the lapel of the exquisitely cut suit that he wore. ​

​

Briefly, she paused. He would know that too.​

​

“I—”​

​

She paused when Adron began to give orders to Xobos Yakieer and Freyu Molidias and her elegant brow furrowed in slight confusion. Why was she his sole concern this evening? Her head tilted softly and waves of hair so dark it almost seemed to have an amethyst shine fell over her shoulder while she tried to figure out what it was that her better half wasn’t telling her. “Are you certain that is wise?”​

​

“I’m not helpless. You should take one with you. Unless you intend to leave my side—They ought to look after us both.”​

​

Alessandra didn’t worry about something happening here that would become aggressive. Her mother would have warned her away if something wasn’t right, not to mention, that Illyria would not be able to survive without its King. A Queen was replaceable. Easily traded, for the next incubator for the heir. That was her take away from the courts and magistrates. His concerns slowly washed over her and she leaned back into the pressed leather. “I will be fine, love.”​

​

She glanced down when he reached for her hand and noted that he toyed with her wedding ring in absent thoughts. It was a small reminder of his affections when he was feeling overprotective and apprehensive. Alessandra followed the line of his gaze back to his eyes and the soft admission of fondness caused her expression to soften. It always did. “As do I. Always.”​

​

They pulled from the town car and she followed instep without hesitation. She was clad in a silken purple ensemble that had pressed amethyst leaves resting, seemingly floating, against her skin. The Minister walked with a certain level of regality that did not merely denote a servant of the state. Alessandra smiled, head shaking slightly, when Adron offered her his arm in that archaic way that she had grown fond of. “You know…My husband might have something to say about it.”​

​

“Maybe just this once.”​

​

She leaned up to kiss his cheek, briefly but allowed him to escort her inside. He asked what she thought about the Coronation and for a long moment she remained silent. Whether it was because others may have been listening in, or she was deep in thought, it wouldn’t become immediately clear. “My mother travels in many circles, though, she did intend to be present tonight. I cannot tell you her exact bonds—But I can tell you that she does not suffer fools.”​

​

In regards to the First Order itself?​

​

Alessandra held a sense of pride for in that had come from her father, though, she was not so blinded that she did not recall the sins of the past. “When we are young the glass that we hold to carry belief is small. It doesn’t take much to impress, to fill it up.”​

​

“We are no longer young and our glasses are much larger.”​

​

Therefore—It would take far more for her to prop up her belief. To give her the confidence that this First Order would become greater than what it was. In that regard; she could not quite answer. It would take far more than seeing an elaborate party for her to make that decision. She remained quiet while a speech passed through up ahead. As it finished, she waited, before carrying on.​

​

“What are your thoughts?” ​

​

They could dance anytime, anywhere. This was important.​

​

​

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
AVALONIA | DOSUUN
T A L K I N _ H A W K I N
THE_BOYS | Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Djorn Bline | Lucien Dooku | Robogeber
INTERACTING | Adron Malvern | Alessandra Creed | Xobos Yakieer | Freyu Molidias | Valessia Brentioch
​

The Commissioner raised a toast at Ariel Yvarro 's speech. Supreme Leader Natasi Fortan's coronation could open a new chapter of imperialism across the Outer Rim. The embers which remained of the First Order of the past could once more rekindle into a blaze. If not ascertained by the diligent virtues of imperialists, then by the failures of democracy across the galaxy. Jaeger had seen it with his own eyes: the decay of society, the rule of mob, the scourge of corruption. All characterizations of the inherently flawed form of governance. Demoncracy, as many imperialists like himself had often named it as. Yet, just as COMPNOR propagated, not only was there the need of dismantling democracy but also of a Force Iconoclasm - the abolition of the Force creeds sermonizing the 'war between light and dark'; the Great Galactic Lie.

Jaeger took another sip of his champagne, followed by a drag of his cigarette and surveyed the area quickly being filled up by the esteemed guests. Not simply men and women of all nations but effectively those of a powerful stature. The shapers of the galaxy. He knew most, if not all that yielded the greatest of influences across the universe, as his profession mandated him to do so. They did not, as it was expected and generally preferred. His eyes veiled behind the sunglasses fell upon a familiar figure - Adron Malvern . Or as he once knew him as High Moff Malvern of the Galactic Empire and now, if his information did not fail him, an Exarch of the Confederacy. While Jaeger was the clearest definition of inconspicuous in comparison to most of the guests tonight, he did once serve as a state security advisor briefly for the Galactic Empire from which his awareness of the former High Moff's identity stemmed from.

The former One Sith Intelligence officer sauntered, similarly as the rest of the New Imperials, away from the flock and to new, and perhaps important, acquaintances. Jaeger approached the Malvern nobility and halted with a raised glass of champagne.

"A powerful speech." he jerked his head at Ariel exiting the stage. "To a prosperous and stable Outer Rim future." Jaeger nodded respectfully, took a gulp of the champagne and then rashly put out his cigarette at the ashtray of a nearby passing server.

"My manners...Commissioner Harrsk of the New Imperial Order." he introduced himself, offering a hand respectfully. Jaeger's own small talk capabilities ceased outside of a bar; the man, like nearly every New Imperial, came from a militant background with the typical abrasiveness of a man who had spent far too much time on the field, in the trenches and behind enemy lines. The manners of nobility escaped him.

 

[TE-236]

Onrai Salamander

Gin stepped out of the shuttle, looking around. It was a big turnout, as he could easily see. He expected no less, for an event this important and classy. Security was heavy, too, though he guessed that the TIE fighters were mainly for show, as they dropped fireworks. Gin stood out from all of the other party goers, as they wore fancy clothes, and Gin was a stark contrast from them. Of course, he had gotten cleaned up, all of the dust and grit from being on war fronts had been polished away, and he shined like new, but he still stood out just for the reason that he was a droid.

He had come with Onrai and her entourage. Mainly, he had come for the drinks, as events like this always had a lot of fancy and exotic drinks, and did Gin enjoy alcohol. Of course, he couldn't actually drink it, being a droid. But thanks to his extensive knowledge of drinks, by using a mathematical formula and determining the chemical composition of the drink, he could calculate and emulate how the drink would taste, which would have to come close enough for Gin.

He noticed Salamander looking at him. Gin looked back. He was another Sith from the Sith Empire that had come along with Miss Vantai. The man was looking at him strangely, and if Gin could feel discomfort he would, as the man was looking at him with an intense look, like he wanted to dissect Gin or something. That was... unnerving.

They continued into the main area. Gin could see many other people there, looking at them and accounting for all of them, some of their names were stored in his database, others weren't. Gin didn't really know most of these people personally, only hearing about them on the holonet on important stories. A lot of the people here were famous in some way.

Then, Miss Vantai's other guest spoke up.

“If you need me, I’ll be at the bar.”

Gin nodded, and said, "I could use a drink myself. I'll take you up on that offer." Gin followed after the man to the bar. Gin watched as the man ordered an Akivan Liqueur. Interesting, so the man knew his alcohol well. Gin didn't really listened to what Messala said after that to the bartender, only that he read the list of drinks.

Then, when Messala finished talking with the bartender, and the bartender turned to Gin. "I will have an Alderaanian White." Gin told the bartender.

The bartender looked at him funny. "Um... but you're a droid." The bartender pointed out the obvious.

Gin deposited a handful of credits onto the bar, and the bartender looked at him. "Ah- er... Yes sir." The bartender finally gave in, and took the credits. Returning a few moments later with the light-colored drink, Gin took it and turned back to the crowd. A woman had come and Mister Messala had gone with her, leaving Gin alone for the time being.

For now, Gin just watched the crowd, with his drink in his right hand, and was currently taking a chemical sample of the drink to see what was in it and to calculate how it might taste.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"No, I'm not on the list," he said with a hint of frustration entering his voice. "Not that list, anyway. Check the +1s, under Bloodborn."

Alkor hated to use his connections for work, but more than anything, he hated showing up to these massive ordeals. He worked with the First Order once, long ago during a different time in his life. He knew all about decorum and niceties, and he even respected them. The First Order had been a very strong Galactic presence and provisioned for peace and prosperity within the scope of their rule.

At least they were up front about their Imperialist doctrine. It gave him a good idea where to tread softly in the 'verse. The thing he found odd was how Kurayami fell in with them. His cousin had never been much of one for settling down anywhere, let alone working for Johnny Law. There must have been something more to it.

Not that they had stayed close. Alkor had always been aloof at best, even with blood. It took time to mend wounds, he'd learned over the past five years. There were still some gaping ones he thought might never close.

"Do you have any weapons or other items to surrender at this time?" the doorman asked. "Remember that we will check and if you don't turn them over now, you will be detained under penal code-"

"I left 'em on the ship," Alkor shrugged. "I came to see my cousin, not start a war. I'm not that dumb. Can I get through?"

"Under Bloodborn- Alkor Centaris, was it?"

"That's right," he replied with a smirk. "See? Wrong list." Alkor glanced sidelong toward one of the guests waiting in line behind him. "Wrong list! Ha!"

The woman stared at him, appalled.

Alkor turned back to the all clear. "We've sent word to Mister Bloodborn, please wait for him in the foyer. Once your party has linked up with you, you're free to explore the venue as you like."

"Much obliged," he said with a Corellian drawl that he used to go to great lengths to hide. He turned to glance back at the indignant woman and cast a playful wink in her direction. When she scoffed, he shrugged.

Kriffin' Imps.

He moseyed into the Foyer proper and had a good look around. It seemed like the stench of Imperials wasn't the only one in the room. Sith too, he noted, and…

Alkor's gaze swept over the Confederate procession, his expression neutral. Five years now, he had been gone. Had they forgotten how he disappeared without a trace? Did they care? They never went looking for him- or if they did, he never caught wind of it.

Not even Isley, the man who had called him Brother.

Damn shame how family didn't mean anything, specially when he picked up on the very distinct aura that only Darth Metus could permeate. The elite caste of them must have all gathered to look pretty in front of the powers that be.

He turned his attention toward the others. Kaine Zambrano was here, too. He had worked closely with the Sith for a long time, and he knew full well that the massive, imposing man could be found anywhere that there was a remote chance of expanding his interests. Alkor lost count of how many men he killed so Darth Carnifex could sit an Imperial throne.

All that was wrong with the Galaxy, all gathered into a single room.

He almost regretted agreeing to meet Kurayami Bloodborn here at all. He didn't want to be seen by most of the people in this room. He wanted them to forget he existed.

Now he was in the middle of them.

He fidgeted with the case that was neatly tucked into the lining of his coat. They had offered to take it at the door, but he told them he was more comfortable with it on. He was used to warmer temperatures. They bought it.

Kurayami was a man who enjoyed exquisite, albeit not-so-legal things. The First Order had very strict policies regarding substance abuse and influenced piloting, he had heard. Alkor didn't ask questions. He just helped push spice, death sticks, Corellian Whiskey- you name it, he'd gotten damn good at making it appear out of thin air in places it ought not be.

So, when Kurayami called this favor in, Alkor readily volunteered to be the courier.

With his hands tucked neatly in his pockets, the Corellian Exile waited for his party to arrive.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

​

"I'm likely listed with Bloodborn," Mishel reported, "yep, there I am thanks, and no -no please for the love of the Force do not announce me." She inwardly cringed as it sounded a lot better in her head. Mishel wore a little black dress, and held a small clutch in her hands. The brunette caught up with Alkor Centaris and quietly whispered, "ten Sovereigns says he's in the gardens, twenty says he's huddled in a corner with his flask." Alkor and Mishel went back quite aways, all the way back to when she was a Ren who had a bubbling curiosity about lightsaber crystals. She could not at the time walk, so Alkor was not just a body guard but an aid and she would always appreciate it.​

​

"Kriff, my sister's here putting on airs I'm sure," Mishel commented with a gesture toward Alessandra Creed and Adron Malvern the brother-in-law that she had scarcely known about. She knew less about her nephew Aries, and even less-so about her being a Baron on the world her sister ruled. "C'mon let's head out to the gardens, pretty sure we can round the bar and find him somewhere." She hooked an arm with Alkor's and smiled toward the people in attendance. She only hoped to get out of here before her mother showed up.​

​

She also managed a glimpse at Allyson Locke and Amea Virou both she had some vague recollection thereof. The former from the Great Galactic War the latter simply from bumbling across the Outer Rim when the Outer Rim Coalition had been in power. "How have you been though? Been awhile since I've seen you."​

​

Best to make conversation and move both of them away from the Confederacy's delegation.​

 

[Quinlan Reade]

2nd Floor, Railing

He felt out of place. Trim suit, tightened tie, some manner of leathered shoes. It was a far cry from the industrial way of Tholonian life and though he looked the part he couldn't help but feel somewhat an imposter here among these galactic elites. As his appointment as governor entailed he'd done a fair amount of reading over the last weeks in an attempt to recognize key figures of the First Order at very least but glancing around from his perch near a banister he couldn't pull out any faces from his dossiers. Quin gently spun the wine flute around in his hand, clear liquid sloshing ever so slightly within. "Who would have thought?" he practically whispered. "I wish you were here to see it." He stood there for a moment longer, absorbing the scenes below. Small cliques of individuals, some bearing official symbol, others just as incognito as the rest, it was a party and he felt almost guilty for bringing down the mood with his internal musings. And yet they continued as did the evening's events.

I feel very much like an bug. A bug cast adrift in a giant puddle. That sent a smile stretching across his lips, a small shake of his head. Surveying the room again he set eyes on the unmistakable presence of the Supreme Leader herself, a striking figure in vibrant red. The same woman who'd made an appearance in Deephaven the day Tholon came under the Order's wing. Of course, her visage then had been far different than the one she had now adorned - her very being spoke of royalty. Beside her an enormous man, his eyes widening at the realization that it was Darth Carnifex, none other than the very head of the Sith Empire. Other faces began to jump out at him as his mind churned. Eternal Empire. New Imperial Order. He didn't recall all their names but the faces he'd seen over and over in his preparation.

"What a wild world we live in." he mused audibly, leaning up against the rail once more.

 

[AMCO]

Location: Entrance, en route to Ballroom
Wearing: Ever-shifting Polyweave Suit
Writing With: Ingrid L'lerim | Onrai | Dea | [OPEN]
---

An alchemical problem at a social event? It was hard to think of a situation more suitable for him.

<Should be perfectly manageable, given that the rest of your body remains entirely functional while in an incorporeal or semicorporeal state.> It would require some minor alterations to the glands, of course, but a bit of genesplicing or sorcery should see it resolved within a few hours.

The conversation with the self-proclaimed deity, on the other hand, was quickly devolving into slights both perceived and intended, compounding the decidedly poor impression her nonsense on Endor had given him. Dragging his lover into unprepared spirit-wrangling? Utter madness.

"I did, yes. Amateurish work, really, nothing that would have fooled anyone familiar with me." The droid was even less interesting, being quickly relegated to some corporate subdivision or another for dissection and inevitable recycling. Perhaps they would even learn something, who knows.

Nodding his head politely towards the construct, of sorts, his stance turned more friendly - it was, after all, a unique being. As far as he knew.

"Interesting." Eyes roving over it with the cold intensity of an Alchemist in the process of determining whether something was worthwhile or yet another imperfect creation to be studied and then discarded - or left to do its own thing, given that it seemed sentient. "Hmm, unconventional."

 

[Bellam Malhan]

Ballroom
Phoenix Edorath
​

The security in the room was quickly eclipsed by the sheer number of guests. Yet, his eyes picked out the tell-tale flash of green skin beneath a First Order dress cap. Was it? Perhaps. But...? No. Even from this distance he could tell she was someone he'd find himself staring at. His eyes narrowed a bit, and he moved along the second floor railing and past Quinlan Reade towards the steps. Already, he could hear the speech starting. That afforded him some time to get downstairs, and it should help to keep her in place until he could join her.

Picking his way through the crowd carefully, with only muttered apologies on his lips. Coming up alongside her, he realized two things immediately. The first was the most obvious - she was tall. They were at eye level with each other.

To say that surprised him was putting it mildly.

The second was that her black hair was most definitely not regulation length, given how much of it she'd tried to squeeze into an oversized bun. Pausing at her side, hands clasped tightly in the small of his back, he waited for the speech to end before leaning over, his eyes still on the podium.

"Phoenix, I presume?" There was no trace of the common Imperial accent, but his gruff baritone was clear, if a bit on the quiet side. It was impossible to mistake his black Armored uniform for anything else, however. If her friend had told her his MOS, she'd know who he was at a glance. With a close in view of the sharp cut of her jawline, though, he was more than a little concerned about his own clean-shaven, rounded, boyish cheeks.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

If you couldn't find Kurayami, chances were he was in a nearby bar, in a hangar working on his ship, or wandering elsewhere through the city. His sense of direction had never been the best, but he managed to not get lost too severely tonight. Oddly for him he had taken public transport to get here instead of bringing his own ship, but he was impossible to miss among the finely dressed patrons who surrounded him in the Red Rose bar. A well worn leather flight jacket with a faded patch from his time with the Aquila Mercenary Squadron, black slacks displaying the red piping of first-class Corellian bloodstripes, and black leather combat boots. He sat at a table in the back, away from the crowds, feet propped up on the chair opposite himself, sipping from a small glass.

As always he savored the slight burn of the namana nectar as he drank until he was interrupted by two simultaneous pings on his datapad. What the hell could be so important? Multiple things went through his mind as he withdrew the datapad to check. Oh, okay then...it seemed that Mishel Kryze and Alkor Centaris had both mentioned that they were his plus one. Or were listed with him. Whatever. He sent confirmation that yes, they were with him. Granted he didn't hold a rank within the armed forces of the First Order in any capacity, but he would have been surprised if he hadn't at least helped train one of the TIE pilots running patrols and shooting off fireworks. For now he would wait and see what came of the meeting with his estranged cousin.

With that all settled he finished what was in the glass in one large swig before pulling the flask from its resting place in his jacket and pouring himself another glass of namana nectar. If nothing else at least he wasn't running up a bar tab tonight.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand, Lord Commander
The Red Witch; The Night Queen; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Rosewood Castle, South of Avalonia, Dosuun, First Order Space
Attire: Polyweave Elegant dress | Soul
Tag: AMCO | Onrai | Dea | Open

~ Just don’t ask why and how this is possible. Because I do not know. For now, we don’t even know exactly who I am, just that if I really want to, I can also change my DNA to be someone else. It would be unnecessary for me to lie to you, you feel how upset it is for me anyway. Even if I’m sure you find this form and situation more interesting than the original, which also interested you because of my genetic anomaly, which I kept even in this new state anyway. Or… it doesn't matter. ~ Ingrid finished, not asking if she would rather think of herself as a new species, or rather just as an augmented human.

It was still in her head, so it was even conceivable that Adrian could feel it from her as well. Yes, anyone would have found this conversation strange, but in their case it wasn’t. Ever since Ingrid began to develop in the field of alchemy and sorcery, it had been several times that they worked together as a hobby on something and in the meantime, Adrian continued to teach the woman, who learned very quickly. The result was Mindstones, for example, the original version of which was a gift from the woman to the Sith Lord.

The pleasant conversation was finally interrupted by Vanessa, a few moments before the first waltz. What she hoped she could do was dance with her lover because they also made a great couple on the dance floor. It was their first dance together - then only strictly a kind of dance - that they performed at Lanteeb.

”I also told you back then that it is an amateur job and hardly resembles your aura, Darth Prospero. And you are wrong Lady Vantai, nothing could be further from our character than to do it in front of everyone here.” she said in a cold voice.

She always looked out of Adrian to be able to, but Ingrid was too stiff for that. Oh, of course she loved dangerous situations and had been with others several times, or even with Adrian, in a place where they could have been noticed at any time, so it was all exciting. But there were no teenagers and Ingrid was raised too well, not to mention being the Overlord. At a party full of friends where there are only those who know her, of course she would have done it any time, but here? No.

Although there was nothing on Ingrid's face or body language, after Adrian's words, through the Force-bond between the two of them, the man could feel the woman having a great time with what the Sith Lord was doing to Vanessa. But then suddenly a feeling of familiarity overwhelmed her. Although the Force was not perfect for her here, she still felt familiar with the arriving Dea. She didn't know who she might be or what this woman was, but it was a familiar feeling.

She looked at the crystal creature, though she didn't recognize that the woman was once Lady Kay, but she saw something else. Maybe because of what it became. Her body tensed imperceptibly, her discomfort only felt by Adrian through the Force-bond, accompanied by a strong disgust. The disgust that lasted for a second before she suppressed the feeling completely.

”What have you done, Lady Vantai?! What is this abomination?” she asked in a cold and emotionless voice that very few could hear from her so far.

~ You see or feel it as well, don't you, Adrian? ~ she asked telepathically.

​

 

[Djorn Bline]

S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
AVALONIA | DOSUUN
THE_BOIS | Irveric Tavlar | Jaeger Harrsk | Tyrell Paxxus | Lucien Dooku | Robogeber
INTERACTING | Ariel Yvarro
C R Y S T A L _ B A L L

​

It wasn’t hard to sort out the New Imperials based on their selection of attire this grand evening. Everyone around them wore silks of luxury, dresses and robes that were on par to regal wardrobes. Dress to impress was the unspoken rule of these events. Everyone showing off with meaningless material, assuming some kind of personality to be in line with the others while simultaneously striving to be the main highlight of the show. Personalities to pretend and to sell a delusion.

There would be glances of admiration and envy towards the invitees with their ludicrous fabrics; and there would be looks of confusion and curiosity towards the stoic grey uniforms of the New Imperials. There’d probably be silent comments on criticizing Djorn and his peers. They were, after all, a young and controversial power in the politics of the Galaxy. Already they earned the skeptical of the Sith, Alliance, and Jedi. He wouldn’t be surprised if the Confederates also adopted that approach; after all, if his intelligence and information was correct, they were staunch opposers of “empires” in the past.

To the New Imperials...everyone was a potential enemy to them, save for the Sith and First Order Imperials due to respective reasons.

His attention was undivided to the familiar Moff he encountered in the negotiations not long ago between his nation and the First Order. The same one that corrected him when addressing the Supreme Leader during the talks with a question that had no actual answer to it. She earned Snake’s interest due to her position in the upper echelons of the First Order, and because of Dooku’s subtle interactions with her. Already the Prince was on the watchlist of Jaeger and Djorn’s, concerned of his dynamic ideologies that dared to border liberal policies that only gave a pathway towards the damnations of Democracy.

His hands gave a quick applause at the end of her speech, and walked towards to intercept her pathway as she walked off the stage. She’d remember his face with the same beret adorning his blonde hair and black shades that veiled his eyes. His eyes also caught the scarlet figure of Ingrid L'lerim , an individual he had seen before without introducing himself properly. That would come later, although he’d be stepping into a den of Sith if he did so.

“Moff Yvarro, that was an impressive and robust speech of yours. As a soldier, it definitely gives inspiration; I anticipate the future you’ll bring to this side of the Galaxy. Certainly another haven for the Imperial mind.” Both Imperials faced their struggles and obstacles, both wanting order and security to this Galaxy full of dissidents and radical insurgents.

“Commissioner Bline, we’ve met before. I believe I didn’t gave you my name,” and offered a firm hand for the Moff to shake.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Tag: Darth Carnifex | Irveric Tavlar

"You're quite right about that," Natasi conceded. "She is a force of nature, that one. Without her, none of this would have been possible. The First Order would still be a memory; where it existed at all, a pale imitation of its former self. We have a ways to go, of course, but we are on the right path once more." The Supreme Leader inclined her head to look at the onetime Sith Emperor. "This is a time for pretty speeches and public declarations, it seems, but I wanted to take a moment in private -- well, relative privacy -- to thank you, personally. I heard that you welcomed the remnants of the First Order at Galidraan and cleared the way for my funeral in Calavar. My children were able to remain safe and untouched on Galidraan. I won't pretend that that was all an accident, given their value as pawns and symbols. I owe you thanks for that, Your Highness. And I won't forget it."

Natasi found that, much to her chagrin and inconvenience, her eyes were by now shining with unshed tears. She favored him with an apologetic smile and fell silent, hesitating a moment as her eyes rolled back. She willed the not to spill over; her mascara would run and she would look foolish. Thankfully, the moment passed, and the Sith Lord seemed to have the good grace to continue the conversation without commenting.

As they meandered, she managed to keep her head up, the tiara carefully in place. "If anyone can advise me on the optics and use of power, it's you," she said. "The Sith Empire has achieved things that most of us never dreamed, given the history of Sith governments in this galaxy. So I appreciate the insights you have on the subject."

When it came time to toast, Natasi faced the Dark Lord squarely once more and touched the rim of her glass to his, creating a pleasant bing! sound. "To the power of empire," she repeated before lifting the glass to her lips. As she lowered her glass, she spotted... trouble. The Sovereign Imperator of the New Imperial Order headed this way. The Supreme Leader turned instinctively, so that the duo could easily become a trio, the irrepressible muscle memory of a Galidraani hostess manifesting itself. She smiled broadly; her exchange with the Sovereign Imperator had given her cause to feel friendly towards the New Imperials. Though they shared less history than Natasi and Carnifex, there was nothing like a bond of ideology to catch one up.

So there they stood, the two of them, responsible for one of the deadlier conflicts in recent memory. Natasi had been dead for most of it, and while she had thoughts about the roots of it, she knew it was not her place to take a side. Both empires, like both of the men that personified them, were on equal footing tonight, likely due to the fact that to favor one or the other would mean a commitment of First Imperial lives.

"Sovereign Imperator," Natasi said, inclining her head in recognition. "I'm very pleased you and yours could make it, and of course very flattered that you've taken the time. Thank you kindly; I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to the staff who arranged the event." She paused a beat and pressed her lips together briefly, then -- with as much grace as she could muster -- followed up the Sovereign Imperator's greeting to Carnifex. "Well... that saves me having to make awkward introductions, I suppose." Natasi felt a chill in the room; she didn't know if it was intuition, premonition, or a breeze as someone let themselves into the garden, but it made her tremble.

 

[Onrai]

"An understandable facet." She replied. "A bit more further interaction could certainly prove beneficial, particularly given your location on the Dark Council and association with the Overlord." She nodded, looking at Ingrid and giving an appropriate response. "I wouldn't have known prior to now, but certainly such is quite clear given our present interactions." Truthfully given their amorism for one another, Vanessa was hardly surprised the two were not more actively engaged with one another, and expected that quiet talk was occurring between the duo.

AMCO 's interest in Dea, however, immediately seemed to change the actions, though while such was positive for him, it seemed equally negative given the reaction Ingrid L'lerim gave. "A combination of liquid crystal, the shattered remains of several Tsil, the ground up scales of one of the cthonic entities which the Overlord assisted me in slaying, and a spirit I had made an agreement with, taken from the Netherworld and placed within this exquisitely crafted vessel of exceptional quality. A truly unique being, unlike anything else in the galaxy." To Ingrid, she sighed. "She's not an abomination. She's a special being. That's not a very cordial statement to say, Overlord, especially not to someone who hasn't even been extant in her current form for over a quarter of a galactic year."

Vanessa was quite surprised at how much the situation had altered itself merely with her herald's arrival. All the while, she watched as TE-236 and Salamander skulked through the cavalcade.