Faction You're Invited | NIO & Allies

[Hans Rennagen]

It's Changed
Okkeus Dainlei
Attire​

So far so good. He'd half-expected Okkeus to turn and walk away. After all, some of the knights considered him a traitor. But they were still allies to some degree. Hans had been on the receiving end of a Jedi strike at Yinchorr, and he knew they were just as driven and powerful as the knights. And if that was where Okkeus belonged then so be it. He noticed Rurik Fel's overpowering presence too, and even though he held a great respect for the Lord-Executor, he hoped they wouldn't be noticed in the return.

Hans broke from observing the Lord-Executor and turned his eyes to his drink.

“So, yeah...I guess this is kind of awkward.”

"Only a little," he lied for posterity. Here he finally had a chance to talk to his former comrade, he didn't want to waste it. Plus, this party wasn't for wallowing in self pity. He wasn't stellar with people, but it beat the alternative of staying upset over at the bar, which could only be worse for him.

"How are the New Jedi treating you then?" Hans knew of the kid's past loyalties as well. Once a Silver Jedi. He was at least glad someone had seen that they weren't the same Silver Jedi they once were. Not the same ones who his parents had been in league with, the ones who he'd almost been sent to train with in the ways of the force. He supposed fate just had a funny way of landing people where they needed to be, whether it was Hans in the Force Corps or Okkeus in the Alliance...

 

[Albrecht F. Herlock]

On Carlac
Open to interactions
Equipment: Uniform, gun, communication device

​

He really wasn't used to this kind of party. Herlock stood here, in a military stance, looking at the people who were present, as if he was looking for someone. "I should have stayed on the ship". He was giving the impression to be a statue, not moving an inch, just like in the old days when he was at the Naval Academy. He finally decided to move, heading toward the bar and the beautiful waitress. On his way, he spotted other people who looked like army officers. "Let's see what they think of the global military situation later." His idea was to get the point of view of other factions concerning the geopolitical situation of the galaxy and make some connections. He soon arrived at the bar and called the waitress.

"Excuse me miss, is it possible to have a Corellian whisky please ?"

 

[Yula Perl]

Observation #2: Imperials came in many flavors.

“Yeah.” Bemused at how the situation was unfolding, Yula slid Aaran Tafo a glass of water with a hint of an apology in her smile. “We go way back, before the New Imperial Order had even been established. Enlil and I were Judges in the Outer Rim Coalition.” Now there was a wistful thought. The Judges were still around, but far more scattered and less unified. Most left for other opportunities or pointed their blasters in another direction. From the edge of her vision, she spotted the familiar features of Auteme , on the arm of a regally dressed young man. The corners of her lips lifted into a small smile, relieved to see the face of another level head in attendance.

Perhaps her voice carried further than she’d anticipated, as evidenced by Korynn Sol-Syna ‘s comment. Yula flushed and grinned awkwardly as if she’d just been scolded by her own mother for cursing. “’Fraid I’m not allowed to drink on duty, ma’am.” She shook her head before leaning closer, a thoughtful spark in her eyes. “Although, who can tell the difference between the way a glass of water and a glass of vodka looks?” A toothy grin accompanied the words only the matron and Aaran would be able to hear. As the bar picked up, two more bartenders appeared, giving Yula the space to afford a bit of banter as she worked.

Cutting in front of Tulan Kor came a youthful, blonde young man in a dress uniform adorned with various metal and ribbons. Accompanying his patronizing attitude was a complicated request, a scenario that was not uncommon in the service industry. “Of course, Sir.” She answered sweetly, repressing the urge to break his finger off. Turning around, the Zeltron brought a finger to her chin as she pretended to inspect the bottles for something that would suit his taste. A mid-tier jug from the back would do. Retrieving that, she set about scooping a few of the larger ice cubes into a whiskey glass from the chiller beneath the counter. “Oh, Lord Halketh has imported water from one of the purest springs on Csilla. We’ve been using that to make the ice; only the finest for tonight.” Winking, she placed the glass in front of RIP Carlyle Rausgeber with a saccharine smile, took the coin, and tossed it to the poor waiter who’d been playing telephone between her and Enlil for his trouble. He appeared confused, given that there was no Csilla spring water and that the ice had come from the tap. Nevertheless, he remained silent.

The gravely voice of Tulan had caught her by surprise, but she motioned the poor waiter away once he’d been released from the man’s death grip. “It’s alright.” She lowered her voice to something a bit more gentle; the poor boy looked as if he was about to burst into tears. “Here, give him…” Turning back to the illuminated wall of bottles, she retrieved a dark tinted, thin-necked cask. Flipping it over, she consulted the label briefly before a hint of a wicked smile curled the edges of her lips. She poured a glass and handed it to the boy—no words were needed, as the sweet red wine would make the message clear. “Then make yourself scarce. Go take five in the back.” She patted him on the shoulder, then returned to serve the irate, yet patient man with the scarred face.

Her brows lifted to reflect surprise as she poured him a glass of straight gin. Hey, at least things were getting exciting. If all went well, maybe there’d even be a bar fight. As a token of her appreciation and a safeguard against any wrath, she left the bottle of gin next to his glass.

Another Excuse me, miss sent her head swiveling towards the voice, finding a man dressed in an imperial uniform beckoning for her attention. “Of course; one Corellian whisky coming up.” Another simple order, she poured his drink, over ice if requested, and slid the glass over to Albrecht F. Herlock across the counter. “Here you are, Sir.”

 

[Enlil]

Today is a weird day.

​

No sooner had the boy left than a taller, musclebound man in a tailored, black suit appeared before him bearing wine. He offered a glass to Enlil, who accepted it curiously. He could see from the look of it that the wine was opaque, and the coloration was decidedly lighter. He continued to stare blankly in the glass for a moment as the man introduced himself, then lifted it to his nose and inhaled the scent. It had a richer, hearty smell; but the flavor played on the edges of the spectrum. It was hard to tell from just that what exactly it might taste like. "A businessman who knows the trade," he appraised as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sample taste.

For a moment, he let the liquid dance across his palate, and when he reopened his eyes on the man his expression betrayed nothing of his thoughts. "I can appreciate that." It seemed that his own reputation preceded him, as the man knew him instantly as Grand Vizier. A strange thing to him, though not altogether unimaginable. "I am called Enlil, the King of Ketaris and Grand Vizier to Irveric Tavlar." He withheld scathing commentary on the forward sweetness of the wine; because in this age, wine was meant to have many varieties of flavor and sweetness was more favorable to some than it was to others. The King, however, favored full bodied red varietals with a drier flavor. He could on the other hand appreciate the complexity of the vintage's taste. Without properly knowing the name the man gave, he identified it as a rarer and more sought after drink. "If you are able to acquire such things, you must be quite capable."

Truthful assertions and flattery danced a razor's edge. The King remained wary of easily given compliments; but neither did he wish to insult Jaster Awaud by overtly expressing his distaste.

Instead, he navigated swiftly away from the topic of wine and sucked down another mouthful, his face rigorously trained to betray no emotion. "I believe Halketh will be most pleased with your gift. He does not strike me as the sort to be offended by gracious gestures, but I am sure he would applaud your discretion." With one last gulp, he finished the wine and it seared the last of the way down his throat. Thank the gods that the serving boy had returned; but this time, he did not come with a message. Had Yula Perl ceded to him? That would have been-

When the bottle landed in his palm, the unspoken message sounded its furious report. His eyes narrowed and he smiled up to the Mandalorian. The King was at his core a man who did not think the worst of people. Enlil gave others the opportunity to show him their mettle and intentions, and once he had an accurate gauge, only then did he cast his judgments. Not once did he believe the man had any dubious agenda. Rather, he immediately understood that business brought Jaster here, and he respected the honesty in that venture.

The youth hurried away quickly before Enlil had the chance to speak further, doubtless some machination of Yula's to avoid having the messenger proverbially shot. It was precisely that moment when Arren Sareth appeared and made her query. Amusement sparkled in his eye for a moment when he considered reporting to the Inquisitor the nature of the bartender, but he relented. For as much as it would torment the woman to be taken into custody and questioned, her offense was hardly grave enough to warrant a night in a frigid cell on Carlac.

"Nothing unusual to report at this time, Inquisitor," he told her, and leaned a bit closer. "I believe I noticed a mark on the arm of a young member of wait staff a moment ago," he added after a moment, "I sent him to retrieve some wine for me at the bar. If you would delve into this mysterious assault for me, I would be most grateful." Though he did not want Yula to rot in a cell, there was no reason that he couldn't watch her squirm when a law enforcement officer interrogated her.

Just recourse for sending him white wine. The audacity.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

// Carlac // The Crown of Ice //
// Auteme // Halketh //
BLINDING LIGHTS​

---

---

Lucien shifted on his heels as Halketh made his presence known. The enigma of a Warlord had surprised him a bit, though he wouldn't let that little piece of information be known. A hand reached out to greet him properly after Auteme had finished introducing herself.

His eyes wandered across to her as she spoke; he couldn't help but assume a growing smile every time she spoke up. Long-winded greetings and flowery words were almost like music to his ears, as long it was coming from her.

And in response to it all he, Lucien reached out with an arm and wrapped it around his date's waist, pulling her into him in a display of open affection for one he held dear to his heart.

His eyes lifted off of Auteme with the appearance of the Man of Iron himself entering their growing group of individuals. "What an unexpected surprise, Brother." Lucien gave him a nod, his hands a bit occupied with a drink and holding onto his beloved to greet the man properly.

Though he didn't feel all too bad about it, given the man didn't seem to acknowledge the presence of the woman at his side. Lucien wouldn't hold it against him too much, but he was feeling good after the liquor in his glass was half gone and wanted to be a bit petty for the evening. "You remember Auteme, right?" He smirked, squeezing her at the waist playfully. "I couldn't quite tell if you spotted her in your peripheral, given how dense that mask of yours can be sometimes~"

 

[Halketh]

W H E R E M Y H E A R T I S
H A L K E T H
THE CROWN OF ICE
Auteme | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Julian Qar

"You must be Lord Halketh. My name is Auteme Denko-Durren, Knight of the New Jedi Order -- it's a pleasure to meet you." She reached her hand out for a gentle shake. "The both of us have been looking forward to this event. Your castle, the service -- marvelous. We are honored by your grace and hospitality."

He did not know her, but it was no fault of either of theirs, rather they were merely the victims of circumstance. Regardless, the miraluka's lips curled from a playful grin into something resembling a much more proper, ivoried smile. He bowed his head curtly, reaching with a gloved hand to snag the offering she extended, shaking her hand firmly. "You humble me with your presence, Miss Denko-Durren," the Warlord cooed, "and your flattery even more so. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard much." He retracted his hand, allowing hers the passage back to retreat without protest, and it was then a brilliant, nay, blinding pillar illuminated the space to his flank.

The miraluka turned his head, shifting his stance to levee his back away from the beaming energy. Rurik Fel- a man Halketh had only ever seen outside of his circles and gazed upon from the rim of a fishbowl. The Lord-Executor was a man much like himself, drawn to others by necessity, rather than the desire to be present. His Presence was enough- everything else was arbitrary. Defensively, Halketh drew a sip from his glass, concealing the innate twitch of his lips behind the crystalline edge. If anyone could see through him... it was The Man of Iron.
​

"Brother, Lord Halketh. Was not expecting such a gesture from Carlac, as welcome as it is." Rurik says in greeting, his tone as placid as it might've been expected to have been.

However, the equally enigmatic Knight's words were met by curiosity piqued, the likes of which pinched the skin between the miraluka's brows, forming a crease. A partial brow fluttered from beneath the edge of the blindfold concealing his lids, the ebon arch rising in question. "Warriors and their gardens..." A hand rose, gesturing in the direction of the towering windows and more importantly, to the frigid climate beyond, "-better to be a party in the ice, than the ice at a party. But I must ask what you would expect of my little ice rock, if not celebration?" Another pass of his champagne reeled in his chuckled words, yet he was struggling to arrange them properly amidst the absolute tidal wave of emotion he was barely managing to hold at bay.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thread pulled taut, nearly causing him to turn his head away from those surrounding him. Qar was here, now. His consciousness extended its veinous reach, illuminating the world further as The Force harmlessly pulsed from his frame- barely felt- in his search for the doctor. Presence met Presence- though Julian Qar 's was faint, The Vulture's encroached telepathically: <"There's a surprise for you arriving in about five minutes, I don't suggest you get too comfortable at the bar." > As quickly as his message had been cast, his Presence retreated back to his form, leaving the doctor alone.​

"You remember Auteme, right?" He smirked, squeezing her at the waist playfully. "I couldn't quite tell if you spotted her in your peripheral, given how dense that mask of yours can be sometimes~"

The now-monarch's teasing drew him back to the present, anchoring him to the conversation. Had he been more familiar with Rurik, perhaps he would have joined in on the picking, but for now, he was content to linger as he was, idly tending to his champagne as the conversation and life swelled around them. Cassiy would have adored this party. She always loved parties and even more than that, dragging the socially inept Warlord out to them.

The fleeting thought drove a fresh stake into his heart, resonating his bones with an exhaustive ache. It was enough to make him clear his throat softly and wash the growing lump down with a draught of bubbles. He had been here for such a short while yet already, he was ready for it to be done with- even with the mirth rising in waves around him. Perhaps this hadn't been such a grand idea, after all. That pit was easy to fall into; remorse. It gnawed at his consciousness and bled him of his attentiveness, tuning him out of the banterous conversation for the time being.

If only he could find the words.

​

 

[Rose Ann Lovely]

Rose turned to the female that wanted her attention. she recalled seeing her at the temple and gave a short bow. She often did that not really just to those in a higher position but to anyone she meets. ¨Well hello.¨

Rose smiled warmly at the Jedi knight and went to shake her hand. ¨Sorry to keep you waiting pleasure meeting you.¨

It was nice to be seen as her own person. Her master was a great man (she knew first hand and had a shameful little crush.) but she felt overshadowed by him. she was not Rose the Jedi padawan but that padawan of Ryv´s.

Being seen as more? that was a brilliant blessing and she adored the woman for it already. Laraine

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST 2
GALIDRAAN FREE-STATE
CARLAC

GUEST

Halketh Willan Tal Enedina Tal Arcturus Tal Teica Giraan Auteme Lucien Dooku Hans Rennagen Caarlyle Rausgeber Noel Strasza

Interacting with Berach Ulrand (Table also open to more revellers)

'Sorry, dawl. When colleagues are a'calling, ol' Barran answers. Stay safe out there, Uzmaria.', Barran muttered his farewell with a smirk and a kiss to the woman's hand before turning to greet his friend with a properly undivided attention. Having spotted Ulrand's approach from the bar when he was still in the process of politely chatting away with the Chiss woman, (one who'd been quite bored before striking up a random conversation with him) the Brigadier-General knew well enough when to break off the conversation with Uzmaria's,"Alien", ilk for their own sakes; though Erskine was quite open to talking to them and fighting alongside them, both Berach and Erskine knew that this was where the line was drawn every time, so the limited social graces would be all the more obvious with two Galidraanis in the same conversation on matters like foreign policy.

'Whit's happnin', Berach? Heard Alais has gone an' attained hersel' a global-elite title, jus' like 'er auld man! But it's all MMA these days, is it no?', Erskine asked after their hands eventually clasped in a firm, though friendly first handshake since Guiteica. Holding his left hand up to politely cut the brute's reply off, Erskine then used the same hand to point towards his reserved table by the massive north-facing window, muttering,'Save it for when we get a seat with a view fitting for a whiskey or eight, ah'm genuinely happy for the both o' you. It's not every day that two fighting generations achieve elite combat-sports titles now, is it?', as he walked with Ulrand through the growing crowd of drunken, frolicking allies and colleagues alike, passing Ulrand a Faslane cigar before reaching the nearest chairs of the Lord-Commander's table.

As both Galidraanis sat down to take in the snowscape view of Hoth's sister-planet, some respectful silence would be afforded between them as they snipped and lit their cigars in wordless serenity; such moments would always feel rare and obscure to men who'd known seldom moments in the realm of the serene, and certainly much less for those who actively avoided the risks that quiet reflection presented, especially in times of war. The winds outside would blow snow and ice around as the blizzards threw down more fluffy grey peacefulness from the night skies above, occasionally-breaking clouds which cast an often-moonlit comfort over the backdrop beyond the thick glass of the window that separated the officers from the biting cold of Carlac.

'Sorry about that, Berach. Ah forget Alais had some tough battles of her own in the last war, but do send 'er mah warmest regards in any case. Also, ah didn't want t'bring up personal matters in within earshot of people with no business knowing yours, a personal rule o' mine you've always known.... Anyways, that's enough o' the morbid stuff for one evening, wouldn't you say? It's obviously dangerous territory for us both, so we stick to drinking whiskey, basking in the fruits of our labour, an' actually enjoying our time off for a change! And all that aside, it will always make me happy t'see good Galidraani stock winning on the Galactic stage again. From the bareknuckle boxing-circuits to the ultimate-fighting octagon, almost makes one wonder which sport the Ulrands are going to dominate in next, eh?'
​

​

 

[Laraine]

Laraine smiled as Rose Ann Lovely extended a hand, shaking it with her own webbed one. "No worries. It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Laraine."

 

[Jaster Awaud]

- Jaster smiled with his glass in his hand and nodded to the man's complement of the wine selection. It may not have been what he offered but the rarity and tastefulness of the wine never stopped anyone from enjoying it. Crème D'Infame was a difficult and rare vintage to get ones hands on, and yet the Mandalorian sitting there was able to procure three bottles. He paid an arm and a leg for such a thing and he could not even get drunk off it, but it was a small sum to a man who needed to impress. Money was the only thing that got powerful people to listen to you, well money and power, but Jaster only had one of those things. He still needed to find powerful allies to keep him going and acheive the goals he was looking towards.

- He lifted his glass to the light above them to see through the wine, tilting it slightly to see the purities within. "Berries grown from the Estimarian Vineyards of the planet of Naboo and aged in burnt Wroshyr wood from the world of Kashyyyk for 20 years." Jaster brought it down to his nose and sniffed it a little allowing the aroma to settle at the back of his tongue. "Bottled at the same vineyard in a darkened bottle with a wax seal and sent off to a dark cellar to age for another 30 years," He set the glass on the armchair of his seat and looked to Enlil who sat across from him. "50 year old Crème D'Infame purchased at auction in Naboo for 500,000 credits a bottle, and left to age longer in my private stock for another 10 years to be 60 year old Crème D'Infame, credited at 200,000 credits a glass, a million per bottle, and two of them here at this party as a gift to the Lord here and one we share." He smiled with a little chuckle before taking a sip of the wine. "If it is not to your liking your grace, I can dispose of the bottle and ship you a fine vintage more attuned to your liking."

- The man before him also stated that he was the king of Ketaris, but of course Jaster knew that. Ketaris, the gateway to the New Imperial Order and a nexus for many of their trade goods. Not only that but also a stronghold within the NIO that it was of great strategic important to the government as it bordered three other nations. Jaster knew that much at least otherwise he would not have approached the man. He knew that if he wanted business within the NIO he would have to play niceties with this individual.

- He nodded as the man offered kind words, "I assure you I am nothing more then a simple provider of the nicer things in life, if there is something some needs or would like then I can provide such a service." He took another sip of his drink.

- It was then that the women Arren Sareth arrived along with a bottle that was provided to the Grand Vizier. It started to seem that the bartender was playing with the political powerhouse and he seemed to be playing along. Many of his ilk would have send the stormtroopers in and have the women arrested. There was a story there that he was not ready to delve into, mostly because it did not concern him. When the women approached Jaster offered a nod to her, but looked back to the Grand Vizier. "If there is some confident business you need to talk about I can excuse myself your majesty."

- The large Mandalorian did not know what was going on, but he did not want to intrude on their conversation if that was what was needed. Some knew their limits and walking among such high political figures one needed to know when to excuse themselves. Jaster was not one of these individual and had to ask as he was not clear about such things.

 

[Rose Ann Lovely]

¨Nice too meet you as well.¨ Rose responded. she laughed lightly. ¨i would greet our host but im much to intimidated.¨ she shook her hand gently. ¨so do you need something?¨

 

[Laraine]

Laraine laughed with Rose Ann Lovely . "I don't blame you. I've never been one for politics, but maybe I should learn some. I don't really need anything. I just came to say hello."

 

[Rose Ann Lovely]

Rose smiled warmly letting her hand go and her own fell to her side. ¨Yes well then.¨ she tilted her head back closing her eyes. ¨I should say hello. Its only polite.I don´t suppose i must bring in politics as you said. Simply just a greeting.¨ she faced the female once more. ¨On that note i do believe i will be off. take care you two.¨

she turned on her heel facing the direction of Halketh .

After all this was a time to meet others and enjoy ourselves. So are we not all equals?

Rose needed to spread her wings and get around. She had isolated herself to a small group of others. To her dismay one refused to contact her lately. Oh well. She kept him from going over the edge and if that is where the interactions end so be it.

That was the end of her thoughts when she came up to Halketh. he was already busy with a few others. Rose felt whatever confidence she had mustered before drain away. She felt small compared to him. (well it was only six or so inches. but i don´t meant small in a physical way.)

¨Hello sir.¨ she managed to squeak out after a moment. perhaps her voice would pull him out of his gloom if only for a moment. She cleared her throat and smiled sweetly. ¨I just wanted to come over and say thank you for your kindness. Many of us needed it. Me the least of all but, its so nice to see us come together like this.¨ she gave a small shrug.

¨Then i also just wanted to meet you.¨ she tilted her head curiously the way a dog would, studying his face. ¨But i don´t want to be a burden. If you want me to go i will.¨



((just for fun. ))

 

[Julian Qar]

- I N - T H E - D A R K -
Open for interaction
The Drip

Surprise? What surprise? It wasn't his birthday or the anniversary of his awakening - what could possibly be waiting for him? Julian quirked a brow, shifting his position searching for the warlord in an attempt to catch him in conversation over this so-called surprise. <I hope he knows that I don't really like surprises.> Julian thought to himself huffing as he curbed a small smile to settle his nerves.

The doctor was thankful then that Halketh hadn’t thrown him nude into the snow to punish him for the stunt he pulled on his rescue. Yet the thought and his smile were soon stunted when he felt the weight of his sorrow rattle the core of his frame. Even with the distractions roaming all around them, it still wouldn’t fully stop him from feeling.

“Whiskey or wine sir?” A voice snapped the doc back into space, forcing his attention on their request and the event once more. “Uh..whiskey’ll do, thank ya kindly.” He cleared his throat allowing a synthetic hand to pull the drink off the tray. The doctor lifted the chilled glass upwards with gratitude for the staff and their service before making his way to the bar to take a seat beside Korynn Sol-Syna. As soon as he settled, he caught the tail end of her conversation with Yula Perl . "I didn't hear anythin'" He said with a lazy drawl and a kind smile. "After this whiskey, I'll take one of those special "waters". Reckon we could all use a little something ta drink while we watch these hot heads duke it out."

​

 

[Noel Strasza]

R E A S S E M B L Y
W A R M A C H I N E
I C O R I T H, C A R L A C
// 0200 HOURS LOCAL TIME //

"-she's been unconscious the whole way through- from submersion to now."

"Call the security team in here."

"Right away."

The tail end of an exchange stimulated her rousing senses, though it was barely heard over the shrill, anchoring whine resounding from the depths of her skull. Mechanized whirs drowned out the muffled, organic voices, tightening her features into a sharp wince. A rush of bubbles blew by each side of her face, disturbing the wispy strands of hair floating from her crown. Reluctantly, as more chemical agents surged through her mock veins, the cyborg's wired eyelids fluttered open. Crimson illuminated the darkness of the suspension tube she had been stowed in as her systems surged online, bringing her back to the realm of the living.

"Major? Can you hear me?"

Lenses rotated beneath heavy eyelids, struggling to focus through the near-jelly she was encased in. Where had the voice come from? Sluggish, heavy hands fought the frictional resistance to press against the curved face of the tube, bracing against the glass. Beyond the frosted pane stood a blurry, dark figure she couldn't quite place.

'One knock for yes, two for no. Just like we talked 'bout, darlin'.' Comfort echoed from the depths of foggy memories she could only claim in partial. Even still, as distant as he was to her mind, she felt his comfort still. Where was he?

Major curled her left fist and knocked her knuckles against the glass with enough force to be heard.

"Wonderful! We're all done with your repairs and reassembly, just sit tight, we're going to get you out of there. You'll need to recalibrate and spend some time reacclimating, but when that's done, you're free to go to debrief."

The sealed doors hissed as they drew apart, spilling a tide of white armor into the relatively dim lab. Those soldiers took a position, but they kept their weapons low, on guard to protect the engineers should the need have arisen. Strasza's mind was in no place to take offense in this gesture, nor was she able to fully grasp the fact she was lucid again. With a breathing apparatus fastened into her jaw and a tube fed down her throat, it was impossible to speak- she was left to assume how long she had been under for. ​

L A Z A R U S
N O E L
C A R L A C
// 1934 HOURS LOCAL TIME //
Julian Qar | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Willan Tal

​

She had not expected to be acclimated, polished off, and thrust headfirst into a social gathering, yet here she was. If it had been up to her at all, she would have picked her gear up from the armory and hopped on the monorail to go home. Home was the only thing she ever craved when she slid off the operating bench, but it seems this reawakening was just as uninspired as the first when the engineers insisted the powers that be had handed down orders for her to attend the evening's affairs. The first question she had asked when her vocal cords became her own went ignored.

"Did we take Ziost?"

Dull silence, nothing more.

Had her squadron been massacred for nothing? Had the price been worth it?

Dull silence, nothing more.

It was easy for those higher-ups to forget about these things, wasn't it? To forget that their soldiers had faces. Families. Loved ones. That they formed bonds with each other and relied on one another when they couldn't trust anyone else. Strasza had lost her family, again. Despite the month-long slumber she had been granted as her body was stripped apart and rebuilt, the wounds were still fresh at the forefront of her consciousness. The engineers had utilized new designs for her chassis, cutting down the bulk and weight in exchange for a more modernized, sleek design at the behest of her chief designer- yet as exciting as this new development should have been, Noel felt nothing towards it.

They could have replaced her legs with AT-AT stilts and she wouldn't have cared.

Another war had been fought in the time she had been under- a battle for Serenno in which the NIO had prevailed despite heavy, circumstantial losses. Those in the lab had freely answered the questions about that battle for her, yet, Ziost continued to be a mystery. Was Julian even alive, still? She didn't know, and she couldn't simply incapacitate the escorts babysitting her to run home and find out.

"Major, let's go, we're going to be late," a young gun, no more than green, spoke towards her from his place higher on the stairs to the towering fortress.

"Let me finish my smoke." She muttered back, allowing the bitterness to ride along with the syllables of her words and lash at him freely, "We're already late, it's just a matter of which degree, at this point." A metal hand smoothed the lapels of her dress uniform, pressing them neatly into proper fold before she found her bars and medals, and focused more diligently on straightening those back into alignment. Her formal uniform was the only half-decent outfit she had that still fit her. Teeth rolled and chewed on the end of her cigarette, fidgeting with it, as her hands busied elsewhere. Gods, she was a pissy mess.

"Hurry up, then. Don't keep the Warlord waiting."

His words were enough to make her slowly turn her head, glaring in his direction with the flaring burn of unnatural red. "The Warlord can suck my co-"

The guard positioned on either side of the door cleared their throats loudly, cutting her off in stark reminder of where she was. This wasn't the barracks. This was The Vulture's Roost. If she was ever going to show that man even a sliver of respect, it should be here. The cyborg growled and spat her smoke out, crushing it against the stairs with a polished toe, and shoved by the babysitters assigned to monitor her misery for the evening.

Anxiously, Noel stepped through the threshold of the ballroom, scarred visage sweeping the crowd of people for familiar faces.​

 

[Arcturus Tal]

Tags: Willan Tal Enedina Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran Berach Ulrand

"Hard to imagine anyone dragging you anywhere, uncle."

Arcturus let out another chuckle as they talked. He had always admired his uncle. The man was a legend, and a hero. Arcturus could only imagine the battles he had fought to get to this point. As Willan spoke of the price on his head, Arcturus could feel himself gripping his glass more tightly. The idea that anyone could be a supporter of the Sith occupation was something that never sat right with him. The fact that they had the audacity to place a bounty on a man loyal to Galidraan was even more disgusting. Arcturus took a breath, loosening the grip on his glass. There would be plenty of time for retribution in the future.

"A real Galidraani reunion tonight, to be sure. I see even Enedina showed up. Didn't think she'd ever take that uniform off, let alone in favor of a dress."

He had spent a considerable amount of time around his cousin when they were children. Even then, she preferred wargames and firearms over dolls and dances. She had all of the strength and determination of her father, and was more than deserving of their family name. No doubt she would continue to be a valuable asset in the fight for their homeland.

"Tell me, uncle, how goes the fight back home? I have been so caught up in, well, everything, I haven't heard much news since I joined the fleet. Are those parasitical puppets still licking the Sith's boots?"

 

[Albrecht F. Herlock]

On Carlac (open to interaction)
Equipment: Uniform, gun, communication device

​

Herlock was drinking his whisky when, suddenly, his communication device started ringing.

"Herlock here." Someone only Herlock could here was speaking on the other end of the line "Coming right away. Prepare the ship for immediate departure. I'll be there in a few minutes".

He finished his glass quickly and left the party, going back to the dockyard and his ship, returning to battle.

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Objective: Reconnect with some old partners
Wearing: (x)
Tags: Hans Rennagen

———​

Well, it looked like the old brother-in-arms were cool. For now, at least. No need to make a big deal out of it at this event. He would bet that neither of them wanted to escalate this to far.

The Imperial’s Knights interest in how he was doing with the New Jedi Order surprised him a little bit. Nothing was wrong with it, but he thought it would be a strange, or difficult, conversation between them.

“The Alliance’s group of Jedi is definitely a nice change of pace for me I feel. Still quite a bit of combat though.”

In reality, the fighting was tearing him up inside. So many emotions and feelings came to him all the time. The future was unclear to him, and so was the present for that matter.

But now wasn’t the time to spill his issues on his former partner, yet a time for celebration. The joint alliance between the Imperials and the Alliance has been slowly chipping away at the Sith Empire’s territory, freeing the innocent planets.

“I heard the Imperial Order has liberated Serenno, and multiple surrounding worlds. Were you there?”

He hoped that nothing bad had happened to Hans down there, and that he was bringing up bad memories. From what happened to him at Ziost, who knows what happened there.

 

[Hans Rennagen]

Okkeus Dainlei
Attire
​

"I was, though not on the front lines. The Knights have been cleaning up after the Sith lately instead of taking the fight to them. Plus we've had to deal with their separatist Warlords. I think they might be more of a threat than the Empire." Hans consciously tried to move the conversation away from Serenno. Not because he didn't want to catch up and celebrate the important victory, but because the trial of the Eternal Empress was still ongoing on Coruscant. He wasn't sure he was at liberty to discuss his part in her surrender, and he didn't really want to find out the hard way.

He could sense the solemnity in his friend as they made small talk about the war. It was clearly weighing on both of them, but neither had the resolve to bring it up, but Hans knew that was okay.

He took another sip from his glass of brandy.

 

[Rurik Fel]

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORD EXECUTOR
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
CARLAC
Halketh | Lucien Dooku | Auteme

STARLESS
​

He glanced between the three, his nature far contrasted from each of them. The Jedi, his king half-brother and the Lord Halketh all seemingly well at ease in these circumstances, comfortable in the bright lights and drunken revelry. Rurik, however. Ill at ease. Were it not for the metal skin and false visage he'd donned over his tortured flesh, it might have shown. Otherwise, his expression seemingly blank, his posture stiff. In spite of his stature within the hierarchy of the New Imperial Order...he felt a great deal smaller than many of the characters present. He sought to ease himself by the time Dooku spoke up to him, a brow arching with a nod to his words.

"You remember Auteme, right?"

"I couldn't quite tell if you spotted her in your peripheral, given how dense that mask of yours can be sometimes~"

He offered a rare laugh, the gesture seemingly humanizing an otherwise statuesque exterior that the Iron Skin gave him.

"Of course, a pleasure as always. Fit to be accompanying a king." Rurik remarked, referencing the recent liberation of Serenno. A bittersweet venture. Home, reclaimed even if it took him fighting to the brink of death in the very same halls he grew up then. He wasn't sure if he was ever soon to return to Serenno, perhaps to establish a redoubt or mission of the Imperial Knights, to save others in their youth from the same fate he was subjected too...but there was that day to come. Then Halketh addressed him, the man of the hour himself.

"I suppose you're correct, the harsh cold makes the warmth of the hearth all the more enticing. But in truth, Carlac has been a world foreign to me since we'd first laid claim to it, forcing the Vong that dug in here from this place. Though it seems to have been healed to its original beauty, no doubt to your efforts. Otherwise, I am ever curious of what infrastructure you ahve established here under your reign, Lord Halketh. But...another time." Rurik remarks.

"Regardless, it is an excellent gesture, one I am sure our people are grateful for. And one that is well earned by all of them." He admits.