The Ziost Affair [The Primeval][PM for late invite]

[Kana Truden]

The walk for the bar itself was easy enough. It was the obstacles on the way that made things hard. Kana might have been one to sneak herself into an invitation, but never like this. She had no expectations of what a party was. Even from the sidelines of her childhood she’d quickly realise that they were a superficial delight enjoyed by superficial people. The kind of people that her parents were. Or well, one of them. The other one certainly wasn’t. Not anymore. Kana had seen to that herself.

Her boots gently touched ground and spread across the surface as she snuck around the room. Just by a quick look around the halls Kana got the feeling as if she was staring at a crowd of creepy croupiers at a fancy casino on Tattooine. Some would say the masks added class or an ultra-luxurious touch, but Kana couldn’t see it. All she saw was her worst fear slowly descending upon her.

That was of course on top of the other aspect of it all that made the party seem like even more of a bad dream. [member="Keira Ticon"] was here, or ‘Jedi’ as Kana had ever so nicely taken to remembering her as. Yep, there was no doubt, Kana was dreaming and would wake up any moment now in cold sweats and with a racing heart. She just had to wait it out.

Any second now...

“Oh fark.” She whispered to herself as the first realisation of the evening hit her.

She had to act fast. She had to find someone to talk to, anyone who was not ‘Jedi’.

“Hi, I’m Truden.” Kana spoke as she intruded upon the conversation between [member="Danger Arceneau"] and [member="Judah Dashiell"]. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She nodded at both parties involved.

Yeah, it was still like getting stared at by a stranger from a dream.

Creepy.

 

[Kyber Salurra]

Kyber was not used to such events where multitudes of not only races, but beings in general were in attendance. He had only been to one such affair before, one hosted by some group referring to themselves as 'ravens'. Kyber had brushed up a bit on his social prowess since then, but most things had remained the same. Kyber was still keeping to tradition, his old suit and blacked-out flash goggles fitting just fine for the festivities. Why he'd received an invitation did puzzle him a bit, being nothing more than a two-bit mechanic and bounty hunter, but nevertheless he brazenly strutted up to the entrance of this grand hall, unknowing if his clothing -or he himself- were a fit for the occasion at all. Security was tight and it wasn't like Kyber to make a big show of himself, so he reluctantly allowed the guards to store Arrikazza before he even got to the part where they patted him down or sent him through the scanner. He would've argued with them, how the weapon was ceremonial and what-not, but everyone should've had the 'no weapons' clause, so he let it go before letting himself into the regal structure.

The party was glowing with faces from all walks of life. It was almost obvious as Kyber looked around the room to tell who the more unsavory folks were, but if everyone had followed the procedure he just did, he needn't worry about any scuffles breaking out in his midst. So, with peace of mind he did what any good patron would do in his shoes.

Kyber made his way over to the bar and hailed the bartender down through the crowd. Kyber leaned in as to not have to yell over the crowd; "Gimme a bourbon sour hit with some mist in a short glass and a neat shooter on the side" The bartender gave Kyber a sly smile and an understanding nod as he hurried off to begin mixing the remedy to Kyber's temporary condition of sobriety. As the thirsty patron waited, he gave a look around towards the other guests. He first analyzed the men in the room to see if he recognized any of them from past ventures, but his efforts were in vain as he recognized none. After that failed session of information gathering he then moved onto the women in the room. Kyber kept his head straight with a bored expression as he glanced around the room, an advantage of wearing blacked out eye-wear is the security it brought when trying to scope out an area. It seems as though he didn't recognize any women either, but a few seemed approachable, so he made a note to try and talk to a few before he lost himself in a drunken stupor. As the bartender returned with his two drinks Kyber gave the man a brisk nod and a small tip before dropping the shooter in his short glass, letting them both mix together.

For now Kyber waited as he leaned against the edge of the bar, not knowing who exactly to approach first, nor having the drunken fortitude to speak freely just quite yet. "This should be an interesting night..." Kyber mumbled to himself between sips of his very strong beverage. It wouldn't take too long to get himself under the table, even with his alcoholic resilience he's acquired over the years, so he was going to make the best of this night of free drinks and dangerous folks for as long as he could.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Family, was an interesting thing.

Few had as much experience with family as this particular Warlord, who, for over four centuries, has been consistently betrayed again and again by one family or another. Parricide, filicide, suicide, homicide, patricide, fratricide, mariticide.... these were the words that best described the essence of his life. Coincidentally, those were also generally the words used to describe Zambrano's in general. No wonder he found himself becoming related to them. The question of how of course, was a curiosity among those who knew him as family... which was sparingly few. Despite vivid connections to the family and his own notoriety... he has had virtually no interaction with his fellow family members beyond [member="Enoch Zambrano"], his Great Nephew. The Prophet however, felt something about today in this place, that would change that.

Using the literal remains of a dead man as his 'masquerade', the Hutt hovered through the room with a wide swathe of coverage. Not a soul dared to enter within a fourteen and a half foot radius of the creature. While some served the darkest patrons in the room with hesitance... they outright refused to enter his midsts. This was because while they suspected a mistake under the other gathered guests could results into personal injury or death... it wasn't a question with the Warlord. If you became his company, you were liable to die almost immediately. A mask constructed from skull, bone, and leathered skin adorned his face, with chalky markings whitening his grey flesh, to contrast with his midnight sith tattoos. In his hands, his usual staff composed of the skull faced Captain Slika's head, the skeletal remains of an Amphistaff all strewn together with Slika's leathered flesh, and spirit ichor infused into the artifact to reanimate the beastly creation at the beck and call of the Hutt's black magicks.

Blood-golden eyes penetrated deeply through the crowd, and only the blood of a hideous being remained within his span of attention...

Nephew...​

​

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"Because not all of them are enemy." Her response was carefully articulated, and Keira looked to him pointedly with a slightly raised eyebrow as if to say, 'You're here, aren't you?'. The two carried on in silence for a time, though after his comment made in regards to her dress she couldn't help but crack a smile. "I wouldn't know." There was no sign of deception in her gaze as she looked to him. "This is my first time wearing one, and I have to say that I don't like it so far." Absently she tugged at the hem of it as if in an effort to pull it lower, though it was in vain. "It's too revealing, and I feel exposed." A slight frown furrowed her brow, and she sighed quietly. "It doesn't help that we can't have weapons either. I'm more relaxed with a saber at my hip."

In the next second [member="Kezeroth the Beholder"] approached, though she wouldn't have recognized him if it hadn't been for the cloying darkness that followed him just as readily as a shadow. A wry smile quirked on her lips, and she looked down at her outfit as if just seeing it for the first time herself. "Don't worry, it's just as weird for me." Just as carefully she looked him up and down, in the next second meeting his fiery eyes with her own mottled pair. "Not that you have much room to talk. The only thing I've seen you in is that armor of yours. But I guess that changed when you left your old body behind." She carried on as if this was an everyday conversation, and old mentors that had died reappeared on any occasion.

Her gaze wandered over the throngs of people gathered about, searching both for familiar faces and past and present adversaries alike. [member="Kana Truden"] was one she recognized, though for all the impassiveness of her expression none were to tell. However, through the Force she touched on the other woman's presence lightly, extending only acknowledgement and nothing more. There would be no words exchanged between the pair, as combat had sufficed enough to communicate their feelings in the months that had passed. A strange sort of void was present, one she only recognized as an individual entirely dead to the Force ([member="Marcus Foster"]). That was someone to keep an eye out for, at least.

And speaking of people to watch, there was one seated at the bar that caught her eye on her first cursory scan of the gathering. Briefly she looked between both [member="Connor Harrison"] and Kezeroth. "There's someone I need to talk to." A beat passed, in which she realized proper introductions hadn't exactly been made. "Connor, this is Kezeroth, an old mentor of mine. Kezeroth, this is Connor, the Jedi that helped to save me on Ziost. Try and hold a civil conversation without killing each other. I'll be right back." Well, hopefully. There really wasn't any telling how long this conversation would take, or if it would ever really end. With a purposeful stride she crossed to the bar, sitting down next to one forlorn [member="Slade Zambrano"]. "What's it been now, a year?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Uncle."

The Sith Lord cast a hard glance at the three-point-three meter tall creature as it slugged it's way over, a nearby crowd dispersing rapidly to allow the great Hutt to pass unperturbed. He wasn't at all surprised that he would be here on this night, he had heard of the Hutt's exploits from his many informants within the Primeval, but had never actually met the creature face-to-face. Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that he abhorred the idea that a Hutt carried the same name as him, or maybe Kaine was just too preoccupied elsewhere to actually arrange a meeting. He heard rumors that his son, Enoch, had met with the Hutt; but such things were yet to be concluded true.

All the same he gave a quick bow of greetings to [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] as he neared. "I've been meaning to arrange a meeting, Uncle, but the war has consumed all of my time and effort. Those pesky Republicans don't know how to read the writing on the wall, and so the campaigns have practically ground to a halt in the Inner Rim." Alas, it was true. The greatest headway the Empire had made so far had been at Telti, the Sith pushing deep into Republic territory with one swift victory. Sadly, the other sections of the Imperial-Republic front have basically bogged down in the mud with prolonged siege after prolonged siege, entire systems becoming blockaded by both sides. The tides of battle never seemed to shift in either's favor, but there was a hint of change permeating the political winds.

He was certain that their time for true victory was near after seven grueling years of war. "But I sense an end to the conflict will come soon."

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Slade didn't answer at first, he didn't have the intestinal fortitude to tell her he chose drugs and drinking over her. So as he poured a double of tequila into his drink he set the bottle down and quickly shotgun'd the drink down the hatch. After that he stared at the glass and held his hand out appearing that he was going to say something whilst he barely looked over to Keira. That movement was quickly retracted as he bite back his potential words and paused for a moment. Really what he wanted was another drink because he was far from drunk enough to have this conversation.

"Yeah, about." He said as he poured another glass of tequila.

Taking another drink downing it whole he tapped his glass against the bar for a bit letting it clink a few times as he thought of what words to muster up. If anything was clear to Keira it was that the man was emotionally distraught, pained, and tortured right now and her presence was the leading cause of that. He didn't want to face her right now, or ever. He didn't want to look his failure in the eyes and still feel for it, he didn't want to feel what could be love for another human being. That was something that was completely foreign in his family, not like dad took his bastards out for a game of catch, and it wasn't like the women he had forced himself upon really wanted to see their torturer in their spawn.

"Hey if you don't mind I got a thing with a guy." He said almost dismissively, and of course that thing being drinking and that guy being Jose Cuervo.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

"So then, after all this time, you do remember me... under all these revolting folds." His muffled voice carried through the bone barrier of his mask, as those deep searching eyes bore down upon the Sith Lord. For the first time in his tenure as the Terror of Wild Space, the Warlord actually expressed a self-conscious loathing of his own skin. Of course, this was the first time he was even actually conscious. Aware. Brooding. "... no... no you do not. I was mistaken." Those color changing orbs of vong-perfect optical brilliance seemed to dim slightly after a moment, but no other feature still visible behind his mask indicated this glumness. How long had this cretin waited to know if his only surviving family to his knowledge, actually remembered him? He had met his descendant in Darth Voracitos, and the son of his Nephew before him, yet this was the only time he would encounter a living member of one of his past lives... a unique opportunity this wandering soul had never gotten.

It was already squandered by that distinct unfamiliarity held within his nephew. He hid it well, pretending to know and care for whatever sake, using only knowledge gained by his aides, and assumptions made from his son. Perhaps the only reason Enoch knew he was legitimately related, was a query he asked, and without thinking the Warlord answered with that strange innate knowledge he had occasionally... an intuition honed and fine tuned in every life he experienced.

"Nonetheless, nephew, you know not the pleasure of witnessing you again. Even if your father would paint me in an ill light." His eyes twitched and moved upon the face of Kaine Zambrano, wrapped deeply beneath the ugly confines of his Sith persona, searching for any indication of feeling in the words he spoke. "You would have known me as Titus, then. You and Mordecai." For a time, with the gears churning within his great head, his twisted soul seemed to unravel to a point to the one speaking, was clearly Titus... unhinged from the corruption of the other persons that he emulated, and was emulated by. Thus, his most key characteristic of uncouth arrogance... was noticeably absent. Nevermind his blatant disregard, and disinterested in his kins conquests. That was the Warlord's business, and the Black Prophet's problem... yet not the concern of Titus.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Anija Betna]

Nearby: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] [member="Doctor Azure"] [member="Danger Arceneau"] [member="Ijaat Akun"]

Directly interacting with: [member="The Traveler"] [member="Arrbi Betna"]

Of all the things Anija could have been doing, scanning the occupants of the room in the Force was not one of them. In point of fact, she'd closed herself down for the most part. In stark contrast to the lively music and revelry, she felt a cold sensation creeping up her spine. Almost as if some hidden entity had breathed down her neck. She shivered slightly. No, that wasn't due to the presence of Ijaat specifically, but more to the rather... prominent presence of several dark force users. Fortunately, not too many people outside of the Mandalorians in the room knew who she was. At least she hoped so.

As to whether she'd actually noticed Ijaat or not... well, she'd been distracted by the arrival of a certain individual. One who's arrival pulled her attention away from her reflexive scanning of the room for several moments. As her gaze settled on him, she felt a rather... distinct sense of... recognition. And yet, she couldn't place why or who he was. A tingle ran up her spine as the unknown man suddenly bowed before her. And yet, she couldn't tear her gaze away as he began to speak. The voice, though distorted by the mask he wore, sent renewed shivers down her spine. But not out of fear. It was a sense of dawning recognition. She couldn't readily place who it was.... but he obviously knew who she was. The words he spoke, she sensed something else behind them. A warning. Her fingers tightened briefly around Arrbi's as she held his gaze.

She well knew the situation that he was referring to. This very...party was hosted by those who short months before had wrenched Wayland from Mandalorian hands following a bloody invasion. And yet... here she was. Granted she knew a great many of the Protectors were in attendance as well. But she would be lying to herself if she considered the situation even remotely safe. It was why she was being so watchful. A few moments of silence lay between the three of them before she spoke, her voice pitched to reach their ears alone. A momentary hesitation, and she reached out to grip his arm as she would have one of her vode. "I thank you for your words, Burcya...and I am watchful, especially here." she said softly.

 

[Doctor Azure]

As Rawnie seemed to be thinking about their child, Lor could see a bit of unease that belied her almost constant insistence that he was going to be a great father. Or, rather, he was afraid that it meant she was feeling a lack of confidence. On the other hand, though, she was smiling at him and returning the tight grip he had on her, attempting to keep her balance. That was something that threw him off, sometimes. His wife was an expert at hiding her doubts, and so was he. It was a habit that the two of them always had to dance around to get to their problems.​

​

"I have. I'm gonna need an assault rifle full of pepper sauce for most of this."​

​

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]​

 

[Boethiah]

Here she stood among those she'd never faced and those whom she's met as both ally and foe. To have so many of creeds far and wide standing side-by-side in a place of revelry sent a cold shiver down the witch's spine. The Prophet could only imagine what events might unfold this night, and what conversations were to be had. A keen listener or quiet observer would have every opportunity to explore scenarios they'd likely never experience again in their life. That alone made her presence worthwhile.

Standing over a baclony, away from the bulk of the crowd and only where a few mingled within the shadows, Anja looked down upon the strange faces. Some were masked, others were not afraid t reveal their identity. Yet she wondered how many have ever seen her? The Host Lord was enigmatic. Few knew her name, and fewer knew such a person existed in the first place.

Placing her hands on the railing, Anja leaned forward, relaxing as the night just began.

 

[Rapax]

Naga seeing [member="Enoch Zambrano"] among the crowd made his way over to him, He wasnt here to kill for once he was here to make a deal that will no doubt satisfy the boy...if he was interested in such an offer...though he would be a fool to turn it down and the boy didnt strike him as a naive boy when he finally arrived to where enoch was he gave a respectful down before speaking. " Greetings...Enoch Zambrano is it?...I am Naga Itesak...i lead the loyalists in new adasta, i was wondering if you had a moment to talk i have a proposition for you in regards to this planets control." Enoch would recognize him from the hologram transmission that was sent to him when enoch arrived.

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

They made their way over to the banquet table, and the scent was almost too much for her. Almost. Her sense of smell was way stronger than it had been before. The rich herbs and spices were so intense, it almost made her feel sick. She wasn't used to it. At best at home they would use seasoning on the meat when it was a special occasion. Not even close to this.

Then her stomach grumbled a little and she decided that she would just have to try the plainest thing she could find. But once she actually started to look at the food, she realized, with a bit of embarrassment, that she had no idea what any of it was.

"Hey, Lor? What is this?"

He'd probably know more than her, being adopted by rich people, after all.

[member="Doctor Azure"]

 

[Kenrath]

Vengeance chuckled at [member="Vaulkhar"] looking back at him as they walked.

"Even if our host had they wouldn't mention it out loud in mixed company." "There is always a reason for these types of parties."

He stopped turnign and scanning the room. He looked at his new friend.

"So anyone strike your fancy?" "Myself I am practically married but I have been known to play wing man here and there."

He smirked.

"Pick your poison." "Blonde, brunette, redhead?" "Passive, passive aggressive, over the top aggressive." "The fiery ones can be a lot of fun."

 

[The Traveler]

Nearby: Anja Aj'Rou Rawnie Tal'verda Doctor Azure Danger Arceneau Ijaat Akun

Directly interacting with: [member="Anija Betna"] Arrbi Betna

As she grasped his arm he recoiled only so slightly in fear that she herself a powerful force practitioner would sense his essence, who he was. That fear subsided and he stabilized himself with only the slightest indication that he had moved at all, she would pick up on it but her hand, the hand of a sister even on his armor comforted him. He nodded at her betrothed and then returned back to her giving her his attention.

" Even i know not who summons this minagerie of souls, nor do i know any intention. We are unarmed, though you and I are armed far more then the others. Even those who have mastery of the force, you have felt my fist more then once in the circle and i yours." he said as he eventually retracted his arm back to himself.

It felt right to be surrounded by his ori'vod though he had gone the path of the Dar'manda and he yearned to return to the manda'yim. That was not in the cards tonight, nor was it in the future. His crusade was all that mattered and his goals kept only to himself as the sun keeps the moonlight. He had to remain an obscure phantom in the shadows, a specter of the imagination for far to many enemies could pry his intentions if only they knew who lay beneath the armor.

His voice lowered , the metallic echo of his amplifier a symphony behind his voice " Your instincts tell you to trust me, your mind and body and soul know who is beneath the darkness. Yet it is obscured by reality, that I could become Dar'manda and find myself in The Primeval. Though my sister I serve an enemy of the Mandalore, my soul still aches for what is and was. In this guise i may be true to that which is me and my intelligence and my facade as heathen barbarian serves no more purpose. Time and circumstance has placed us as enemies on the battlefield, but always i am your greatest ally. The task before me is a worthy one, enough to risk my very soul for."

Even though she did not know who lay beneath the armor he felt that she deserved an explanation, she deserved to know why someone her body felt so secure with was enemy, was monster and was combatant. That much he owed her and that much he would give her. He gazed at her and motion as obscurely around the room as he could.

"If anything happens tonight i shall stand in your corner and fend off the horde, but tomorrow is saddly another day and we may see ourselves forced into conflict. Conflict i must engage you during, what i strive for is greater that i can promise you." his voice returned to a normal level.

" I fought in Wayland mind you, beneath the banner of the Mandalore. It was my last act before i donned the guise of The Traveler, of the lost and hidden. To cloak myself as wraith in darkness was needed and done, one day." he stopped mid sentance and chuckled a bit as he changed the subject as to not give away any more hints as to who he was.

" If it is any consolation, i am taking over leadership of Wayland. The Ori'vod shall not suffer, though i must protect the interest before i am found for who and what my task is. I welcome you to it any day you must, so long as it is you and few. Come take the loyalist, come take the rebels and come take those who wish to go. Or come to visit it again, you and your husband are welcome and in do time i will reveal who i am to you, though you may guess it soon" there were perhaps a handful of people in the Galaxy that knew him well enough to piece it together, and maybe a few more then that that elicited the response that Anija had towards him. Only her family, her brothers and sisters in the Manda'yim and at that only those who had earned it.

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar turned to face [member="Vengeance"] with a perked brow before shaking his head from side to side. He wasn't particularly interested in anyone, but there was one person who did fit his fancy, so to speak. She just so happened to not care about his existence, and that was perfectly fine for him. More time for training, less time for anything to distract him from his goals.

"She is likely one of the people hosting this party, though her knowledge of me is very minor and there is no shared feelings between the both of us. Though if I was just looking for a female to enjoy this banquet with, as in dancing and conversation, hair matters not. As for the aggression level, anything works really. I'm not a picky man. I'm a blind one."

He turned to Vengeance and was clearly unsure how to even go about speaking to a female.

"Thoughts?"

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Kenrath]

Marcus laughed clasping [member="Vaulkhar"] on the shoulder.

"Now now you never know my new friend." "All it takes is a little guts and the right mix of wit."

He smiled.

"Me I went for an aggressive blonde way out of my league." "Luckily for me she didn't seem to realize she was out of my league and fell for it anyway."

He looked around the crowd.

"It is not sight that matters but what you have to offer." "Do you like to fish?" "Because romance whether for a night or forever is a lot like fishing." "Toss out a line and see if anyone bites............literally or figuratively."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar raised his hand to speak, index finger pointed upwards, but no words came out. He closed his mouth and just sat there in silence at the words spoken by [member="Vengeance"], clearly unsure what to even say. After he moment he shook his head and laughed. He too began to search around the crowd.

"See anything of interest? You're my eyes at this party, Marcus."

 

[Boethiah]

Anja continued to quietly observe, each and every warm-blooded soul lit up like a star, fluctuating in a variety of colours as her Umbaran eyes scanned the scene. A few were dark spots; due to armour or species, and some were cold but noticeable. If she were a painter, she had her mastery in sight, unfortunately she was a painter of war and not arts. Leaning up again, she slid her hand along the railing as she walked towards an even quieter area of the venue. Her eyes did not leave the guests, and if any had noticed her movements they'd only see an average-looking woman who did not seem dressed to impress.

Her walk finally took her to the destination in mind, a quiet library filled with tombs and data archives, the blue lights blinked now and then, providing proof of their operations. Pulling out a small chair with the force, Anja sat down and reclined. Despite being hostess, she wasn't one to play the role and left any such formalities to one [member="Enoch Zambrano"] whom officially owned the property. Only of course if he wasn't afraid of revealing himself to the crowd of guests who may rather see him dead than alive.

[member="Vaulkhar"] | [member="Vengeance"]

 

[Kenrath]

Marcus smiled moving forward.

"Blonde between a redhead and a guy I don't know." "Let's see how well you can break the ice." "Try not to get yourself killed."

He moved through the crowd stepping up to [member="Kana Truden"] [member="Danger Arceneau"] and [member="Judah Dashiell"] with a smile.

"Got a nice crowd at this party." "Reminds me of banquet I was at last month."

Marcus smiled putting a hand to his chest.

"I am so sorry please forgive me...where are my manners."

He pulled out three business cards holding them out to each of them.

"Marcus Nichols...........................Nichols Consulting."

[member="Vaulkhar"]

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar's gaze followed [member="Vengeance"] momentarily before he caught a familiar sight out of the corner of his eye. Rarely did he look upon power and forget it's image, usually it was seared into his brain as a reminder of what he soon would become with the proper training. But as he noted the slight movement of someone on a walkway higher floor than he, he considered his actions momentarily. Normally he would not leave the side of Vengeance, but his attention was drawn elsewhere. It was drawn to the person he had hoped to see at this party.

"If you'll excuse me Marcus, I have someone I'd like to go see."

He offered a wink to his master before turning and moving towards the stairs. He strode through the crowds with ease, his form weaving in and out of parties and groups as if they were not even there to begin with. As his foot hit the first step he quickened his pace and moved to follow the feint trail left behind. It was not long before he came to the entrance of a library.

"Figures."

He spoke softly before knocking upon the door and entering into the library. He stood at the entry way, arms crossed over his chest. He leaned comfortably against the door frame and turned his attention to that of [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]. "Mind if I join you?"