The Cost

[Subject 37]

Moorja
[member="Sable"]

Moorja wasn't a planet that most would associate with any sort of High Class function.

The planet itself was a bit of a dirt ball, the largest enterprises here being mining and agriculture. That coupled with the massive ion storms that almost constantly raged on the planet meant the world wasn't often visited by dignitaries. This had changed lately however when Governor Balyn came into power. The man had charisma like the Alliance had never seen before, and through political favors as well as strong arming the young man had convinced several local System Governors as well as higher ranked Alliance personnel to come to a ball on Moorja.

The affair was understated really, taking place in a massive palace that had been built on the edge of a cliff near the Moorja's main agricultural center. The views when the skies were clear were quite breath taking, though today another one of the planets ion storms had begun to form in the atmosphere. This didn't prove to be too much of an issue however, the guests already having arrived and most of the lighting within palace being provided by simple flame rather than advanced lights.

It gave the entire affair a sort of rustic and homely feel, though it was all a lie of course.

Governor Balyn was not a charming man. He was not a powerful man. Every little piece of him was a lie, constructed and orchestrated through little more than a single wish. How had such a thing happened? Governor Balyn had found a ring, and upon donning it had thought for only one thing; power.

His wish as it were came true, and quickly he rose through the political ranks of Moorja, eventually winding up as the planets Governor, popular with his people, the tragic loss of his wife and daughter having made him more than sympathetic in the public eye. It was this party that was supposed to bring Governor Balyn to new heights, allowing him a more prominent role in the Alliance.

Of course, Sable and Sven had other idea.

"I really don't like wearing tuxedos." Sven said as he adjusted his jacket for a moment, his eyes settling on his wife as they wandered down the ramp of their ship and headed towards the entrance of the palace, and attendant standing there to register the names of the arrivals.

Dozens of people were already inside, and Sven could see dozens more all waiting in line to arrive.

A crack of thunder echoed above, a spark of the Ion Storm that would soon strike all around.

 

[Quietus]

"Strange," said the woman at Sven's side, tone even and completely void of the lilt of humor, "I do not like you wearing anything at all."

Green eyes slid to peer askance at the man, lingering on his figure for only a moment before the line moved forward again. It was their turn at the entrance. A smartly dressed man in a tuxedo with a holographic podium stand looked up, "Name?"

"Dr. and Mrs. Bellevue," Sable answered.

"Very good," said the man after a moment of searching, "enjoy your evening."

She took her husband's arm and followed his lead in, gaze sweeping the crowd within as they stepped through to the entrance foyer. The din of music filled the air, echoing from a distant hall and rising faintly over the sound of a hundred people conversing. Despite the ostenticity of the event Sable found herself less bothered by it for reasons unknown. Taking the image of her Queenly self was becoming less of a chore and more of a second skin. Perhaps the fate of Hapes had shifted her impression of the indulgent and opulent.

Or perhaps she was not herself. Who could really say - not she.

A certain ring upon her finger, one of the few created by Him and collected already, shielded the woman's presence in the Force from detection. Just as well, they were in the territory of the New Jedi Order and word had it they didn't see eye-to-eye with those of darker natures. This worked to keep her from detection but it also worked against her. Sable could not actively use the Force to seek out their target without giving herself away. Tonight they would have to go the old-fashioned route.

Mingling and socializing.

Could there possibly be anything worse.

[member="Sven Talith"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

"Huh." Sven said as she spoke, a bit bewildered by her answer. It wasn't like Sable to make jokes, even with those jokes were in complete deadpan. Usually he was just cracking wise at her, sometimes getting the tiniest hint of a smile, but most of the time just receiving a blank expression that might as well have been her staring at a basket of eggs. To say that her response surprised him was an understatement, though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Perhaps she was just getting more loose with her tongue, a prospect Sven found entirely too enticing.

As they stepped through the archway and into the party itself Sven couldn't help but peek around at everything. As he had expected the interior of the palace was decorated in a almost medieval sense. Huge stone walls, dozens of fireplaces, and candles seemed to light the entire place. There was a noticeable heat once someone stepped inside. Electric lights were present, though most all of them were shut off due to the approaching ion storms.

"If you want." Sven said quietly. "We can find a closet and I can try on your favorite outfit for you."

The joke cam just as a portly woman in a dress approached them, Sven noticing that the garment was entirely too small for her.

"Oh lord." Sven said to himself as the woman opened her maw, a bit of what appeared to be cake spewing out as she began to speak.

"HOW DO YOU DO?!"

The former King of Byss seemed to blink a few times at the woman, his arm tightening just slightly, keeping Sable half pinned at his side so she didn't end up murdering this woman. The last thing he needed was his wife murdering an innocent fat lady just for saying hello. He frowned for a moment, and then decided he would have to answer and defuse this before Sable had a chance to say something...unkind. "Very well, though famished I'm afraid, if you'll excuse us."

Before the humanoid gamorrean could say another word Sven took a left, half dragging Sable towards a table of refreshments.

 

[Quietus]

Sable was, presently, distracted in her search for some semblance of tonight's target. It was perhaps the biggest blessing where the fat lady was concerned, as the Dreadlady had no time to prepare or allow her fuse to light before Sven stepped in to excuse them. It left her eyeing the shapely female as he lead her off, a look of the deepest contempt blossoming on her face.

"It would be much more efficient to kill everyone here. This ... search," she refused to give this party any semblance of acknowledgement, "is a complete waste of time."

"Surely it's not all that bad, M'lady?" a server standing behind the nearby bar had overheard her. Unsurprising, she had not been making any effort to quiet her frustrations. He smiled lopsidedly at them as he cleaned a crystal glass, "Perhaps a drink to take the edge off. What can I make for you fine folks?"

"The blood of Balyn," the words left Sable's mouth, garnering her several sideways looks.

"That's an interesting choice ... what's in it?" asked the mixer.

[member="Sven Talith"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

Sven frowned for a moment. "Mashed cherry's over Tatooine Vodka with a splash of Huril."

He was rather impressed that he came up with that on the fly, though in truth he was pretty sure the drink would taste absolutely awful. Tatooine Vodka was just about as strong as one could get in alcohol and Huril was a falvorant most often used in the core worlds. The two had likely never met before and it was unlikely their combination, along with cherries would actually taste all that well. Still, he had to say something before he and Sable got arrested.

"In honor of our host." He gave the bartender a polite smile, then gently pulled Sable away while the man began making the drink.

Sven gave Sable a sideways look.

"The Alliance is one of the most powerful governments in the galaxy." He reminded her quietly. "While I'm not opposed to killing everyone here, let's leave that as plan B, okay? I'd rather we go about this quietly."

It was after all, far safer. He frowned for a moment, his hand gently squeezing Sable's. It was an attempt to persuade her, but it would likely be lost. His gaze drifted away from his wife however as he slowly searched the room, spotting the man they were looking for on the other side of the room. "There he is. On the dais."

It seemed Balyn was holding a conversation with a young Zeltron woman who was giggling at every other word he said.