A Memorable Evening

[Jason Russard]

(*Posters - please see note in OOC forum re: this Thread, thx)




THE RUSSARD ESTATE - 1.00 AM

The alarm ships dodged and weaved in the night sky, their narrow escapes from the hail of burning meteoric rock raining down from the heavens were a marvel of the Empire's technological creativity, mobile automated craft distributing information and direction to the Imperial Citizens below. The un-manned vessels broadcast tinny voices to the populace, warning all to stay in the shelter of buildings and basements until the barrage of Mother Nature abated. As if the populace couldn't figure that pearl of wisdom out for themselves. The warnings had come too late for alot of individuals. A large spread of Imperial Centre was already a-fire from the Asteroid shower - an uncommon yet not unheard of event - that had struck with almost no warning. A freak of nature that took Coruscant unawares and would go down in the history books as one of the worst meteor storms of the era. It had certainly thrown a damper on the party - a fabulous event held at the Russard Estate to celebrate the new Empress, Miranda Tarkin. It was a gathering of the Galaxy's who's-who, the Rich, the Famous, the Important were well represented at the luxurious Russard Mansion -it was THE social event of the year and the notoriety and excitement of it had been building for weeks - was all the holovid news reports spoke of. Nothing had eclipsed it, or could eclipse it. Except, of course, the worst meteor storm in decades. It had started innocuously enough, one guest observing as a hot wind suddenly gusted, ruffling the curtain sheers of the french patio doors and blowing them forward roughly, "I say, isnt that a bit odd.."

Jason Russard stood beside Roger Phillips who was directing their very important guests down the staircase into the durasteel lined basement shelter. He spoke quietly, but urgently, for Rogers ears only, "Is everyone accounted for?"
They would be more than safe in the shelter, they would be comfortable. The basement being well stocked and furnished for a prolonged stay in case of disaster. The young man looked from his list up to his employer, his concern evident. Some guests had left before the storm had started, alot had not. "Well?" Jason demanded, not yet hearing the response he desperately wanted.
The night had started off so well. Russard heard the wall chrono chime 1am. A mere six hours ago, the night was just beginning and no one had any idea how things would turn.

*********************

SIX HOURS PREVIOUS:
8:00pm Russard Estate - Grand Hall



The band was playing a delightful melody, reminding Jason of his spring roses in the gardens. They would need attention soon, and he made a mental note to see Arthur, their groundsman, about it.

The guests had begun arriving fifteen minutes ago and Russard found himself rising to the occasion. He had not been in a very social frame of mind. In fact, the idea of entertaining and perhaps even deal-making (some of the guests specifically invited with that purpose in mind) had been a drain on his energy for four weeks. However, dressing in an expensive suit, sipping expensive chardonnay and enjoying the classic beauty of elegant music had shifted his spirit somewhat. It helped also that Estelle was here, a signifigant new friend with her - she always brought out the best in him, made life appear not quite so dire. Adelaide would be here soon, too. It would be the first time he had seen her since that awful Crei business. His stomach did an involuntary flip. Even after these months, the thought of seeing her still made him nervous to the point of nausea.

The house looked wonderful, fresh flowers on every ledge and flat surface, the tables decorated with crisp pale powder-blue tablecloths, accented with dark navy napkins and trimmed with the Imperial Insignia, every glass, dish, plate and utensil sparkled with the reflections of hundreds of candle-style lights. The french doors opened onto a large patio, the band set up on a small elevated platform halfway between so that guests could saunter in and out as they so chose, enjoying the warm evening air. Lanterns dotted the extensive grounds, showcasing the night blooms in their soft ambient glow. Beyond them, in the shadows, the security was out of sight, yet very present. Phillips had seen to that. The entire Estate was safe and secure by the best the Empire could provide.

Servers moved throughout the room, discreet and attentive, every worker eager to do their best - their way of honoring the new Empress. Jason took one last look around, content with the overall presentation. He wondered if the Empress would really come...there had been hints that she might. Wouldn't that be wonderful, he thought humbly to himself. Really, it would be wonderful.

[Old Man Russard]

The Old Man hooked a finger round the rim of his starched collar and tugged.

"Stop pulling at it, you'll smudge things" Lissel, his nurse of many years, chastened him as she eyed him reprovingly.

Russard grimaced and clamped his lips into a thin line. He never felt quite right in a suit, even after years of reconcilling to them as a necessary evil. They were too constricting for his fighter nature, he liked things loose, flowy, like baggy boxer shorts. He tugged again and got a slap on the wrist from Lissel, "Leave be, would you Mr. Russard"
Opp, it was her angry voice. Jason the Elder obeyed and dropped his hand to his side, he'd lost so many of these battles with Lissel before.

"Are they serving the Riuou' tonight?" Jason asked hopefully. Riuou' is a white fish from Kamino, very flavourfull and fleshy -one of the old man's favorites, yet one his diet had been denied for years for being too rich. Too much of a good thing...or so the doctor said, maniac.

"Mhm" Lissel replied, knowing how happy it would make the old man, "And you might even get some if you can manage to be polite to everyone tonight." Russard gave her his trademark smile, it was a killer and charmed the ladies every single time. "That wont work on me, Mr. Russard" Lissel scolded gruffly, "And I doubt it will work on many of those Imperial Officers either"

"Oh, you'd be surprised" Russard assured her with a wink and settled into his wheelchair for the trip down into the Grand Hall. Once downstairs, he would begin the evening standing with the use of his cane, but that would be too hard on him to do all night. But he was determined to manage for a while.

Entering the enormous dinning room, a server promptly handed him a crystal tumbler, his drink of choice a whiskey. He raised his glass to Lissel and smiled roguishly, "Riuou'"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had chosen a short-length dress, its hem falling just above the knee.

Traditionally, to these type of evenings she would wear a long gown of simple design - but tonight she had wanted to feel exactly what she was, young, happy and care-free.

Her life as a Rebel spy left her little to no time for such abandon and the feeling of non-responsiblity (at least on a scale that for her always measured in life and death) was a giddy feeling indeed. Not to mention she was flush with that indestructible sensation one gets when a new romance has blossomed, quite unexpectedly, with a man that is absolutely the stuff dreams are made of. She looked at Cristobal and as if he read her thoughts, he smiled broadly and even managed to blush a little under her stare. Oh god, he is gorgeous, Estelle twittered inside her own head.

She sipped tentatively at the Chardonnay, which was very, very good. She cautioned herself to drink s-l-o-w-l-y the memory of another night of wanting to feel some abandon with her partners Kazaar and Mili having not ended quite so well, was still very much in the forefront of her thoughts.
Speaking of whom, she looked about for them, wondering if either of them had come down from upstairs yet. Both would be here, under their pseudonyms, of course.

Tonight was a one in a million. A night where she could pretend at a real life, wearing a pretty dress of pastel lemon overlayed with delicate white lace and enjoy a party that had some of the most exciting guests Imperial Center had ever entertained.

It promised to be a wonderful night.

[Roger Phillips]

"Roger," Jason inclined his head at the approaching figure. "How are the guests? Has everyone arriving been accounted for?"

"Yes, Mr Russard, everyone is accounted for thus far." Roger Phillips, security and logistics specialist, former martial artist, charmer, promising businessman of sorts, all-around go-to man for the Russard family, and for tonight as well, chief security detail officer, handed over a datapad containing the list of arrived guests to his employer. "The Coruscant Sector Governor and his aide confirmed their attendance late today and I just finished delivering special instructions to the security to grant certain leeway to the personal guards arriving with him and his wife. Additionally, I have a waitress trained in serving certain royal personages on standby to be Empress Tarkin's personal attendant should she she make an appearance. The food is served, the guests are enjoying themselves, and sir?"

Jason looked up from the list. "Yes Roger?"

Roger smiled; a smile not rogueish for there was little rogue in the man, but the twinkle in his eye spoke volumes. "Thank you for coming. Please enjoy our hospitality for tonight and don't let the business of coordinating the evening suck you in."

The Younger Russard smiled; Roger somehow saw through the calm front he portrayed to the antsy, uncertain man beneath. Instead of acknowledging the comment, he turned the conversation in another direction. "That's a nice suit, Roger. Is it new?"

Roger's smile broadened. "Yes, it is. A gift from your father for this evening, I believe. Including the cufflinks; ornate oropearls with this kind of shimmering quality are very rare Kaminoan exports I hear. Speaking of which, I need to see a man about a fish. If I may?"

His employer waved him off, and off Roger went. His first stop lay with the kitchen where he met with the Riuou chef long enough for the other to provide him with a covered silver platter as Roger'd previously arranged for. Leaving the kitchen, he cast about the hall until he spotted the figure of an older gentleman in an archaic-style wheelchair chatting with a matronly female Twi'lek. To that pair he strode, greeting them each with a cheerful 'Evening!' as he neared them.

"Roger" the two said in unison.

"Mr Russard, thank you for coming," Roger said, uncovering the dish and proffering its contents. "The chef prepared this Riuou dish specially for you. I know your diet typically prohibits you from eating this," (here he glanced at Lisell), "but the chef would be most upset if you didn't enjoy at least a little of it since he considers it a specialty of his."

The Older Russard 'hmphed', but the sight of the fish brought a smile to his eyes that he couldn't hide. "Leave it with me," he said gruffly. "I'll try and eat a bite or two."

"Of course," Roger set the platter into a special hooked slot on each of the wheelchair's armrests where it would act as a mini-table for the purpose of eating. "Let the nearest server know if you need anything, though I hope you'll find all you need right there."

"Nice suit, Roger," the Old Man said, already beginning on the fish. "Very well-tailored."

"Yes, the mystery gift," Roger replied, momentarily posing for effect with both hands (and the cufflinks) in front of him. "Someone who knows my measurements, who can access fine clothiers, and who has excellent taste in cufflinks left it for me at my residence this morning. I decided it would look nice tonight."

"I dare say you might win over an unattached lady or two, Roger," the Old Man chuckled. "Don't you think so, Lisell?"

The Twi'lek made a small noise of exasperation at being drawn into this particular discussion and said nothing. After a moment, she relented and eyed Roger up and down. "You do look very sharp, Roger," she agreed.

Roger grinned. "You're too kind. Speaking of unattached ladies," he added. "I need to go see a woman about a compliment. If I may?"

"Shoo!" the Old Man said, waving him off. "And leave an old man in peace for a few minutes."

It didn't take long for him to spot Estelle Russard, however as he did so, the commlink in his ear beeped twice, indicating his presence was needed at the guest check-in. Undeterred by the voice passing a message to his ear, Roger made his way over to Estelle and the gentleman who was her escort for the evening. "Estelle," he greeted her with the warmth of an almost-brother and a quick hug. "It's so good to see you here tonight. I only have a moment right now as I'm needed downstairs, but I didn't want to pass by you without taking the opportunity to say hello. I hope to have a chance to catch up later in the evening. Sir, if you'll forgive me the impoliteness of a proper greeting, I promise to make it up later. Right now, I apparently need to see a lady about a midget. If I may?"

They both nodded their greetings and agreement. Roger left, out of the grand hallway, down a side stairwell, and into a small entry chamber where a small figure in a suit, sash, and top hat struggled against a security guard's grip. "Mr Phillips," the check-in greeter, a woman named Linda Markower, spotted him with relief and held up a small datacard. "This gentleman claims he's the Koprulu Sector Moff, and while he isn't on the list, he does have proper credentials."

"I'm sure he does Linda," Roger smiled and waved off the security guard and placed a hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "I'd heard that the Sector Moff would be on Coruscant this weekend on business and was warned he may drop by unexpectedly. Though I must admit, while he's always been rotund and bald, to see him shorter than usual is very surprising. How did you manage to shrink three feet since we last spoke, sir?"

The small man froze in the act of brushing himself off and straightening his outfit. Apparently, he'd believed bluster and nice formalwear was the only requirement for attendance and genuinely hadn't expected to be caught. "Sir," he said formally. "While I'd like to thank you for coming, I'm afraid I can't. I'll have to excuse you so you can see a door about leaving. If I may?"

The small man nodded, visibly trembling. Roger grabbed him under the arms and lifted him off the floor; with a heave, the impersonator was thrown out the door and down the outside steps. An arriving couple "oh my"d and laughed as he flew by them.

Roger turned to the guard. "Make sure he sees his way out," he directed, then turned to the greeter and took the datacard from her outstretched hand. "This was likely stolen from the Moff himself; I'm fairly sure that was one of his staffmembers just now. I'll see to its proper return myself some time tomorrow."

Tucking the card inside his inner jacket pocket, Roger grinned at them both. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I'd like to see a glass about a drink."

[Salem Ave]

The wine was good. On such occasions, the host would often begin the evening with a middling vintage, knowing full-well that the most respected guests had yet to arrive – but the glass in Salem Ave's grasp was above and beyond anything that flowed into the bejeweled goblets of Iziz Royal Palace. It would be the only glass the Prime Minister of Onderon drank that evening, so he savoured it while he could.

At present, the estate had a pleasant atmosphere. Conversation was not flowing freely just yet, but pleasantries and rumors of guests still to arrive were being exchanged throughout the party. Salem himself had managed to attract the attention of a middle-aged woman (the wife of some apparently important Moff) who was relieved to learn that he was not blind (“Put them out of their misery, I say!”) but quite clearly anxious at the revelation that he was not entirely human. She was chattering away, mostly to herself, about some injustice her son had suffered at the hands of filthy aliens masquerading businessmen, though after just about every unabashedly hateful remark she would make a rapid apology.

“Not that I mean to imply you would do any such thing, Mr. Ave. Your kind shares too much in common with your human cousins, I'd wager, to stoop to such villainy.. what was it you said you did, Mr. Ave?” she asked, peering up at him through half-moon spectacles, her lips puckered into a pout. Meeting her eyes, Salem smiled thinly.

“Oh, I don't want to bore you with that. Now, what was it you were saying about...” - he let the words trail away, knowing instinctively that she would pick up where he'd left off. The Moff's wife, it was clear, was a woman who quite happily would spend an evening talking about just one thing: herself. Whilst he had no interest in learning her life-story, the longer she talked at Salem the more she seemed to like him, and the greater the chance she would decide he was worth introducing to someone else.

Start at the bottom and work your way up, he thought, with another – this time genuine – smile.

[Vince]

He gave a small huff of amusement at the high-society article listing all those who were attending the soirée being thrown by the Russard family. The fickle nature of people at large was grating to the nerves of most of his colleagues, but Trix himself found it more amusing than anything else. Everyone desires to be rich and famous, or something trite like that. He tossed the datapad to the seat absently, and felt the speeder stop. The door opened quickly, and Trix stepped out of the car quickly, desperate to stretch his body out. A few of his joints popped as they realigned themselves for better movement, and he sighed in satisfaction.

It took only a few moments for him to make his way through the gates and into the estate of the Russard family. His dress uniform was freshly cleaned and well pressed. 'It might be a bit vain,' Trix thought to himself, 'but I clean up pretty well, don't I?'

He ignored the embarrassment of a short balding man who he could see was thrown out. Alas, if that should happen to him. But then, it would a good excuse for him to take off his jacket and find a nice pub or bar where formal wear and manners weren't so highly demanded.

Coming up to the doors, he gave a friendly smile to the bouncer and the greeter. “Hello,” he said with a nod, “I am Trix Idalix, and I've been invited.”

He dug into a pocket for his datacard, and pulled it out with a small flourish and a grin.

[Xavier Synik]

The limo glided through the air on it's way to the Russard estate near silently letting Xavier enjoy the scenery as it whizzed by. It was only his third or fourth time on Coruscant, but he never got tired of taking in the sheer magnitude of it, it was quite the place for so many reasons.

On this night however it was the place for some socializing. Something which he was not completely unfamiliar with, but something which he tended to avoid. And typically these were the ones he most often tried to avoid by booking some last minute business meeting on the same date. No, he was not entering his element that was for sure, though his tailored charcoal pinstripe 3 piece suit, white shirt and cobalt blue tie, no one would be the wiser to the fact that he would have preferred to be in a pair of slacks and a button down shirt with rolled up sleeves at the very most.

But he'd been convinced that this would be worthwhile. Turning away from window he looked at his companion in the back of the limo. She'd been the one to convince him that not only would declining the invitation have been social suicide, but that it made damned good business sense, and who was he to go against logic like that. Especially when the logic was coming from the person he not only shared the business with, but a bed with as well.

Reaching over he took her hand in his and brought it up to his mouth kissing the top of it lightly.

"Know I told you this about twenty times already, but you really do look beautiful tonight..."

His sentence was broken as the limo glided to a stop in front of the large mansion and the door was opened immidiately buy a servant. Stepping out Xavier took a brief moment to button the top two of the three buttons on his jacket before extending his hand downward to the open doorway for his companion.

[Eliessa Corta]

The Judge followed only a few feet behind Trix Idalix and shrugged when Adelaide, who was jostling along beside her, asked if she knew who he was. Both women politely ignored the scuffle of dwarf feet on the pavement as the security hastened the ejected intruder away from view.

Corta responded speculatively, "Could be one of those holovid stars" and allowed herself to be relieved of her wrap as she stepped inside the entrance, a young couple entering just before her. There was bound to be quite a number of guests Eliessa would not know by sight, but would most likely know by reputation.

Adelaide's head bobbed and weaved beside her, jockeying for a better peek before the young man disappeared into the party, "Do you really think so?"

"Oh, try not to be such a bumpkin, Adelaide" Eliessa scolded, though she was pleased to see signs of first real animation in Del since she had become her ward. "I have a reputation to keep and employer of starry-eyed nitwits is not a part of it. Now....." Eliessa discreetly swept the gathering with a cool look, "Who do we want to bump into..."

[Lykaios]

“Your transport is ready, sire.” The HRD’s pleasant voice interrupted her master’s thoughts briefly. All this time, she had stood there, watching him stare at his reflection for what seemed like hours unend. Were she organic, she might have wondered how much vanity could fit in a human being, but she wasn’t exactly a living being and he wasn’t exactly human either.
<o></o>
He wasn’t exactly being bane, perhaps part of him was, but the truth was far more simple and complex all in the same: What was invisible to others, he could see as clear as day. And so, in such important occasion, it would have been a crime for his attire (http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh11/DarthLykaios/LykDandG.jpg) to be presented in anything less than impeccable fashion.
<o></o>
Taking his time and with a very deliberate cadence, he made his way to the turbolift and then to the hangar bay, where Mixtli stepped into the pilot’s seat and awaited for her master to board the back of the luxurious vessel.
<o></o>
On his way to the Ruusard estate, he went through some of the names in the guest list (which had not been hard to obtain, most of the names had made their way to the holonet and were all over different holonews channels, coverage for the event had not been lacking for after all, this was the supposed to be the event of the year), putting faces to names and titles.

He did not intend to act as a know-it-all and pretend he was in the know and part of the high-society circles, after all he was still new to the Empire, instead he was simply avoiding to be caught off-guard. After all, he was sure that there would still be instances where he could be surprise, for nights of such frivolities were anything but dull.
<o></o>
Once the ship arrived at the gates of the Ruusard estate, Mixtli had been more than quick to make her way and open the shuttle’s door for her master. As he stepped out of the opulent shuttle, he buttoned the top two buttons of his expensive jacket. Mixtli then gave a small bow of her head and drove the ship off to where she would await for her master.
<o></o>
At the top of the stairs, he reached inside his left inner pocket and pulled out a fancy datacard, which he handed to the man standing just outside the door.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"It's just a dress." Estelle had said. "You'll do fine."

Milivikal had stared at her with rare, wide eyed panic. Shit.

Milivikal, early in the day, had been given the dubious task of finding a garment appropriate for Estelle's family social event. Much biting of lower lip and fingers through hair had ensued. Milivikal protested several times to Estelle that she had no idea what she was doing. It fell on not deaf ears, but occupied ones. Estelle had family affairs to attend to. Kazaar was no help, and steadfastly refused to accompany her to the "zoo of walkin' pirhanas" of shopping and comerce. A dress had never been an issue in her life. When she attended formal functions, she would simply wear Jedi robes. It was accepted, and expected from the servants of the Force and the Guardians of the Republic. She couldn't wear robes in front of the captains of Imperial industry, much less in an era when the Jedi were a literal handful of individuals scattered to the winds. She needed to blend in, per Estelle's instruction.

So, she indulged in previously forbidden (and formely needless) interest. k'Vik engaged in her dangerous pursuit of beauty. The Russard's valet dropped her off at CoCo District's higher end shopping area. Kazaar was right, at least on the account of it being a zoo. Milivikal pulled on her sunshades from her jacket to shield her light eyes from the noon sun. She looked alien. Black slacks, white t-shirt hiding beneath a typical jacket a smuggler might wear. She missed her holster already. She reached inside her slack's pocket. Her fingers found a felt bag, it's single item reassured her.

Milivikal took a deep breath, and moved into the writhing belly of the beast. She was looking for dresses. She walked hurriedly, half-again as fast as the rest of the crowd. It was the only way she could diffuse her nerves. She encountered a multi-level monilith of commerce, Truhan's, which had 12 distinct floor, and innumerable departments. Half of the store's patrons were the moderately to stupendously wealthy shopping, and the other half were tourists. She stopped ten steps in, not exactly in the way, but not out of the way, either. Mili frowned, and pulled the shades off. She looked down. Even the floor was opulent: a high-quality imported granite. It was the same sort of opulence that she wondered about but never was allowed to explore. She shook her mind from the veined details of the expensive rock, and set about to find evening attire.

Store staff were everywhere. Mili walked up to one not presently occupied, at a cologne counter. The Bothan looked at her. She looked better suited for a dive in the Outer Rim than Coruscant's upper crust.

"Hello. Where might I find a dress?" Mili asked, voice uncertain.

"Seventh floor, miss." There was a veiled note of amusement in his voice. He doubted her ability to afford a dress, but looks could be misleading, and the best policy was to be unfailingly polite. Milivikal did not doubt the Russard's purchasing power. She wound her way up the starecase, also made of exotic stone with intricate, wrought metal railing. Women's fashion. She exited the stairs, and was immediately overwhelmed. There were hundreds of different dresses. She bit her lower lip, took a deep breath, and started looking at the items on the nearest rack. Halfway through the first set of hangars, she hadn't found anything that looked remotely interesting. Some of the designs were the same shade, and she couldn't fathom why they'd be repeated twice.

A Rodian male walked behind her. His yellow skin and black markings floated above a well tailored suit. A pin with "Teneek" over his breast was displayed in stylized silver Aurabesh script.

"Do you need any assistance, Miss?"

"Yes. But I do have a question." Milivikal held aloft a pair of dresses with identical designs to her. "Why do you have two of the same dress?"

"One is pink, and one is light green, Miss."

"Oh." Milivikal's cheeks turned nearly the same shade of pink. She replaced the dresses. The associate made a mental note that Milivikal was colorblind.

"What is the occasion?"

"My co-worker is having a formal party. I haven't the faintest idea of what to wear." Mili said.

"Hrm. Take the jacket off." Mili obeyed. The shirt was fairly form-fitting. "Turn around now." Nervous, she did so.

"I don't think this will be a problem."

"Oh good." Mili said. At least someone thought so, and threw the jacket over her shoulder.

"You should get something to contrast against your complexion... hmm..." Teneek said, he wandered over to a rack, pulled a green dress out, glanced at Milivikal, and put it back. The process repeated several times, for the better part of a half-hour, until he stumbled across a black dress, with a dark blue print.

"Ooh." Mili said. It had a moderate back, a medium bust-line, and an asymmetrical design. It was a smooth downhill from there. Mili ended up with fashionable black boots with a 7 centimeter heel to match her new dress, and a strapless bra. Exhausted, she paid with the generous credit chit given to her by Estelle, and took the bags home. She could not fathom why anyone enjoyed shopping, and was determined to have a nap.

She'd been secretive around Estelle about the dress. Estelle was curious, but far too busy to give Mili real pressure about it.

She crept up behind her partner, her footfalls silent.

"How do I look?" She asked softly.

http://panicked.org/swf/mili2/mili-dress3.jpg

[Emelie Shadowstar]

It was one of those knowing half smirks that Xavier's words were met with, just about the only thing that could be done to hold back the instant want to make some crack about how she was ditching the look as soon as this was all over with. The look however, was important. Of all the things she wanted to accomplish that night, of all the possibilities, her standing out that evening wasn't on the list. It wouldn't have been hard, Emelie had more than enough elegant though risque dresses in bright green that combined with her preferred hair color made her able to be seen from across the room in just a simple glance. And if this had been any other social event, she probably would have gone for it. But no, this wasn't about her, and rumors (and even confirmations) on some of the guests expected to be about made Emelie very aware of the fact she had to, for once in her life, blend in...mostly. A compromise in her sensibilities was met first with a change that had been the most reluctant, the bright orange and pink tresses being changed (Dear god, thank you only temporarily) to brunette. After her hand had slipped from his, fingertips had retreated to twisting around one of the softly curled strands and she found herself mulling over just how strange it was to see it such a shade. The dress she wore on the other hand...green had been ditched for a deep blue, and while it was considered among the more modest of things she now owned, the cut of the halter style dress (http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk47/Nuime/Sigs/emdress.jpg) still left little to the imagination. Her favorite part of it perhaps being the back, which dipped down low enough to reveal the corset-like laced ribbon that most would assume was part of the gown but upon closer inspection would show that rather the bit of fabric was laced between two rows of rings that pierced through the skin of her lower back. Let the upper class have a good talk of that one... It would have to do, if Emelie felt anymore in disguise, she'd have trouble not using one of her aliases rather than her actual name throughout the evening and that kind of slip up would be costly.

Emelie allowed herself one last moment of "Ai ya tian a...if I can survive this night, I'm finding the first dive I can run to and having a bottle of the local rocket-fuel. Then it's off to The Bastel...Wonder if solider-boy would be up for shots, sure Xi would get a kick of the two of us trying to beat each other again..." as their ride arrived at the Estate and then she forced herself to take a deep breath before placing her hand into her companion's and stepped out.

The change was subtle in her, going from those small nervous ticks she had to having that air about her of a young wealthy socialite without a care in the world. Emelie took note of those arriving at the same moment they were, seeing them as nothing more than faces she'd have to put to names already running about in her mind for the moment. Like the others datacards were presented to prove their identity before they were granted access to the Estate, and quickly thereafter the Grand Hall. A glass of Chardonnay was quickly found (she'd stay away from the harder stuff...for now but gods the wine was amazing.) and for the moment she stayed at her partner's side. Being among the Imperial elite was a moderately uncomfortable notion and until she managed to acclimate Emelie found herself perfectly happy to remain by Xavier.

[Sanya Tagge]

A sleek, silver bullet of a speeder conveyed another two of the evenings guests towards the Russard estate. As he navigated the busy lanes of evening traffic, the driver spared a glance into the rear-view mirror at his passengers. On the left sat a young blonde in a outfit (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v210/tehwofl/Cosmopolitan-Photoshoot_065.jpg) that held his eye a little longer than was politely appropriate, and on the right was a pilot in full, blue dress uniform, his head stooped some to avoid bumping against the roof. Throughout the journey, they had scarcely spoken a word to one another. The blonde gazed wistfully out of the speeders tinted windows, whilst her companion repeatedly smoothed the creases from his starch-pressed trousers or tugged at his jackets' cuffs.

“Please, stop that.” Slightly startled, the driver quickly looked away from the mirror. Yet, the scolding was not meant for him.

“You look very handsome, Cael,” Sanya observed, with a clinical appraisal of her chaperon's clean-cut military garb. “But all of this fidgeting like a child isn't becoming in the least.”

Bathala – feeling like a well-tailored mannequin - gave a nod and coughed, clearing his throat. Sanya watched as he laid his hands just above his knees, obviously in an effort to keep himself from fussing, though this new manner of sitting just made him look, awkwardly, like he was trying to not to move. Suppressing a sigh, Sanya returned her attention to the Coruscant skyline, allowing silence to fill the speeder once more as she reassured herself that at least she wasn't set to spend the evening with the Moff Yeart Quenn.

By the time they arrived, the party had gotten off to an excellent start. The crowds of lesser nobility parted graciously as the Imperial Minister of Truth and her rather dashing guest moved towards the main gathering. Judging by the hush in conversation and the looks on the faces around her, choosing Cael Bathala as her companion for the evening had not been a mistake. At six foot four, he cut a striking figure, and as both a military man and a local celebrity - with a surprisingly easy smile - he was just the kind of sympathetic accessory Minister Tagge needed.

[Nya Halcyon]

"Osi'kyr!" she mumbled, faintly, and felt a blush creep onto her face.

One curse away from dumbstruck she stared at the stranger opposite her. Out of the mirror in her employer's spacious 'fresher the stranger looked back, equally wide-eyed and horrified. A hand lifted to touch the golden-red curls on the other's head - just as her own was doing - then moved down to run a fingertip over the stiff black collar, and from there followed the hem down to her chest, where the black netting met. Another hand moved, to join the first as they ran across the thicker weave on each hip.

This couldn't be her.

It felt like her own mirror image was some kind of alien creature, mocking her. All her life she'd hidden behind her armour, or at least a black body suit. Now there was nothing but a thing layer of tovan silk, and the black lace netting between her and the world, and she felt... naked. Uncomfortable. So completely not like herself.

"Whew!" a low whistle came from behind her and she turned abruptly into that direction and... then turned back, the blush on her face deepening. She couldn't meet Caran's eyes as he came to stand behind her. She could feel his eyes on her almost bare back, lasers burning holes into her.

For a moment she had the surreal sensation of something fluttering inside her stomach, and the beating of her own heart sounded like drums inside her head - then it passed as she tried to understand it, and left her bewildered.

What is happening to me?

It had been his idea, that dress. She didn't know where he'd got it from, nor what she needed to wear it for - he'd not told her anything other than to show up for work at a later time this day. It had taken him a while to convince her to put it on - it was for a job, he'd claimed; but somehow she didn't believe that, not truly. No job she'd ever done for him had needed her putting on different clothes.

"Now will you tell me where we are going... please?" she asked, and found that her voice sounded feeble, and shy.

But he just grinned at her image in the mirror. And reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, another on her arm; with an assertive pull, she found herself facing him.

For a moment her eyes met his. And almost stumbled, as her knees suddenly seemed to have turned to jelly. A sinking sensation in her stomach, she looked away, forced herself to keep whatever cool she'd still retained.

He had used the time while she was getting dressed to do the same. As she avoided his face, she focused on his own outfit: he'd put on a very formal looking neo-modern trenchcoat above what at first glance looked like his everyday wear but turned out to be a two-piece suit to match the coat. Not that she understood much of these things, but it seemed he'd taken care to make them both look at the height of current fashion.

It could not be a "job", surely not!

She'd never felt less sure of herself. What crazy scheme was he getting them into, that necessitated pulling her so completely out of her element?

"You're just going to have to wait and see," he said, and grinned in a way that she didn't appreciate at all. Then he very formally offered her his arm - causing her to blush with embarrassment again, because it took her a second to realise that that was what he was doing - and after she'd nervously taken it, he led her out of the 'fresher back into her bedroom, and then out of that, also. Casting a glance back into the room as the door irised shut behind them, she saw her discarded blasters and knives lying there, and suddenly realised with all the clarity that her force-imbued senses could lend her that it was indeed a mistake to leave them behind.

But his grip on her arm was relentless, and she'd already been told not to try and hide anything underneath the folds of the dress (if that had been at all possible).

"Can't you tell m-" she started to ask again, as they took the lift up to the landing platform that housed his speeder. "No," he cut her off, his voice now almost unfriendly, and she noticed an edge to it, something she hadn't noticed there before.

So she just stood there, and let herself be led, first out of the turbolift, then into the speeder which had already been prepared for departure. A human male who wasn't his family's usual driver was at the front, acknowledging them with a nod before initiating lift-off. And all this time, she was watching Caran from the corner of her eyes, trying to see beyond the obvious, trying to feel for the meaning of it all.

There was something gleeful, something lurking, in his mannerism. Something dangerous. For some reason she got the impression of him playing with fire, as yet unsure whether it would burn him or not. Or burn her??

What did it mean?




http://www.nyahalcyon.net/rpg/soiree.jpg

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was standin' near o'balcony smirkin' his eyes off. Was pretty frackin' funny watchin' all th'guys'n dames prance 'round in their special outfits'n all. Pretty frackin' funny. People all playin' pretend. 'Least Birdy an' th'Kid looked good. Even if she'd brought 'long a playmate.

Kazaar wasn't th'kinda guy t'play dress up, but he still hadda couple nice suits from 'is time wit' Ash and Delly. Didn't wear th'suit Delly gave 'im much, wasn't really th'kinda thing he wanted t'remember. Th'suit Ash'd given 'im...that had some pretty good mem'ries. He smirked despite 'imself as he remembered. 'Specially that one time on Bakura where they had t'attend some Cosmic Balance (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Cosmic_Balance) event. That'd been a helluva lotta fun. 'Course th'suit'd been damaged inna firefight two years ago so he couldn't wear that. Hafta get it repaired an' Kazaar didn't have time f'that. Not with Rebel Intel crawlin' with spies. Th'wrong kinda spies.

So that left th'suit he'd worn at he'n Delly's wedding. Coulda sworn it'd been thrown away, hell Kazaar knew he'd tossed it out at Spenny's place once. Damned info junkie musta slipped it back in The Dutchman when he wasn't lookin'. Frackin' Spendrim.

When he'd slipped th'dark brown over 'is white shirt, Kazaar could smell th'old memories. Standin' on Brentaal gettin' hitched. Times they'd spent in th'back o'his speeder watchin' th'stars (an' other things). Happy 'n good times. Yeh frackin' right. He still couldn't get th'look on Delly's face when she killed Crei (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=291997&postcount=19) outta 'is head. Frackin' Crei. 'Least he didn't t'worry 'bout that anymore.

Dammit Spenny why th'frack ya hafta save this damn suit. Why th'frack did Kazaar even hafta wear it. Woulda been easier t'go out'n buy a new one, but Kazaar wasn't that kinda guy. Suit fit so 'e wore it. Bad mem'ries'n all.

Back in th'present, Kazaar took o'puff offa his mild (at th'Kid's request) cigar'n watched th'crowd 'gain. Since he was Estelle's bodyguard he was able t'keep 'The Twins' with 'em. Just had t'hide 'em better. He was pretty sure Milivikal had 'er own weapon hidden somewhere in that form-fittin' dress. 'Course, he knew she wouldn't let 'im figure out where it was, but that th'price ya pay f'invitin' ya partner 'long. Even if she wanted th'other one.

His eyes caught Jason th'Younger'n they nodded at each other. He was pretty frackin' happy 'bout th'night. Th'Kid was pretty frackin' happy f'other reasons too (Cristobal). Who knew what Birdy was thinkin', but Kazaar bet she was still hopin' t'steal th'Kid away from Cristobal. Another smirk. Who knew if that was gonna happen. Dames were pretty frackin' strange creatures.

'Least their dresses were nice.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

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Adelaide had become separated from Eliessa quickly, the older woman being pressed upon by some eager lawyer trying to impress her with his credentials, and failing miserably, had cornered her over by the band and was as yet ignorant that he was doing more harm than good to his career by such a clumsy effort.

A passing server offered her a glass of chardonnay, which Del declined, asking for a soda water mixed with lime instead. She tried not to, but Adelaide couldn't stop herself from looking around for Aurelias. She'd told herself to finally let that ship pass, to relinquish the hope she still held out for a reconcilliation between them - but found it impossible to do so. She missed him. More than she had ever missed him when Bren was...was alive. The holovid screen idol walked passed her, though she thought that might be an incorrect assumption on her part as she saw now that Trix was wearing a uniform.

Across from her, engaged in conversation with a young man who appeared to be showing off his cufflinks, was Jason Russard. He hadn't seen her yet and the shy little wave she had given went unnoticed. To her left, the Old Man Russard had been waiting for her to look his way, a knowing smile tugging faintly at the corner of his lips as he gestured back a small wave of his own. So, not completely unnoticed.

Glad to see the Elder Russard, Adelaide wove her way over join him where he stood, leaning on his cane - his Twi'lek nurse Lissel standing close beside him. Lissel greeting her warmly.

"You look good" the Old Man said, "The hair is not so..." he couldn't find the polite phrase for "alarmingly awry' - the only descprition that fit her appearance at their last meeting.
Adelaide laughed, "Yes, I am slightly improved since you last saw me, Mister Russard" she said, fighting back sudden tears of appreciation that threatened to overwhelm her, she leaned forward and hugged the Old Man tightly. "Thankyou for all you've done" she whispered into his ear. Jason patted her lightly on the back, relieved that the choices he had made some months earlier to place her in The Judge's care had been so evidently rewarded.

Adelaide withdrew atlast from her embrace and her eye caught a familiar sight - one that threw her back about ten years and kicked her in the guts like a wild Nerf. Kazaar had just stepped in from the balcony and back to their wedding day. Adelaide blanched when she saw him, recognizing the suit...what did he mean by wearing that? Did he want her back? Was that his way of saying so, so blatantly and for everyone to see? Or was he just trying to be cruel?

"Adelaide!"
It was Jason the Younger stepping up beside her, "You look lovely. Its wonderful to see you!" He took her hand and kissed it politely. Adelaide turned a shocked face to him and blinked dumbly, and to Jason's obvious disappointment, said unenthusiastically, "What?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

What th'frack was she doin' here? Son of a frackin' bitch! Kazaar cursed multiple times as he saw 'is ex-wife walk into th'ballroom. Frackin' Russard. Why th'frackin did ya not mention that Delly was gonna be here. Too busy hopin' t'get into 'er pants?!?

Kazaar made o'beeline f'the outside, leavin' a smoke trail lika o'freighter with a bad motivator.

Frackin' Russard. He sure as hell wasn't gonna approach Delly wearin' this suit. Kazaar started t'look f'someone t'get a hold o'Russard so he could wring his frackin' neck.

"'Ey Rog." Th'former bounty hunter almost spun th'butler 'round as he walked by. "Grab ya boss. I gotta talk t'im. Now."

[Vince]

Trix smiled. Sometimes, it was good to go to parties like this, simply for the feeling of being ignored; while he loved his fans (it still sometimes boggled his mind that people liked him especially), their enthusiasm for his person got annoying after a few minutes. Thankfully, he was (and he had no problem admitting it) filler for the more important people that had arrived. The men would send their wives over to talk to him while they made deals and intrigues, and some men would speak to him about odd things while they waited their turn to make their own deals. Still, he prided himself on never giving a disingenuous smile no matter the circumstance.

'It's like a system,' he thought to himself blandly, sipping at a glass of champagne. He made his way to Jason the Younger (he idly debated why the family didn't use numerals in their names, 'Jason II' made for a much easier speaking experience, in his opinion) to thank him for the invitation. Perhaps then he could try and find Cael, whom he could have sworn to have seen at the side of Sanya Tagge not five minutes before.

“...You look lovely. It's wonderful to see you!”

Trix stopped short as one of the hosts of the evening greeted a pretty young woman, though sadly he missed the name. Her reaction to Jason's greeting was a bit amusing though, a simple and rather unenthusiastic “What?”

He could wait, he decided with a grin. He drained the glass of champagne, and found it replaced by a waiter. He nodded and thanked the young man before sipping off the carbonated drink and enjoying his relative isolation.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had recognized the voice sure enough, Mili having lately become a welcome daily staple in the young Rebel's life, so it was with some degree of expectation that Russard turned in response to k'Vik's soft-spoken question, "How do I look?"

"Oh! Mili!" Estelle's eyes had grown as large as quail-eggs and danced delightedly as she took in her partner's appearance. "You look stunning!"

"Miss Grey," Cristobal chimed in, "You'll capture every heart here." He added with a small half-bow, "We are at your mercy."

Estelle was constantly being surprised by Milivikal - her capacity to adapt to any occassion was amazing, as tonight proved yet again. Transformed from the rapier-toting lethal killing machine of their past missions into this evenings' woman of elegant and sophisticated style was enough to unbalance even the most level-keeled individual. Estelle was open in her admiration.

"You are very beautiful, Mili. You take my breath away"

[Cora V'al Counis]

"Have you seen Caran anywhere?"

Cora asked, as casually as she could make it, while sipping champagne from a crystal flute and watching that dishy holovid-star Idalix languidly doing the same. She considered going over to him for a word on his latest, but since she couldn't recall what its title had been, she was unsure yet whether that would be a wise choice. What was it someone had told her about him...?

Her husband Getar, CEO of the Counis Corporation and head of a long line of nobles, seemed equally preoccupied as he stood there next to her, with his arm around her waist. "'Said he'd be here a bit late," was his reply when it eventually came, just as she'd begun to wonder if he'd heard her at all. Then he chuckled under his breath.

Cora stole a curious glance at her husband, who seemed as always completely oblivious to the state of her emotions concerning her son. "'Think he means to make an impression, coming late. Not that it'll do him much good, with this crowd."

A thin wisp of his scraggly grey hair was standing off in a tuft behind his left ear again, and Cora reached out and smoothed it down for him. Out of the corner of her mouth she risked another question, "Did he tell you who he's taking?"

But her husband's attention was finally completely pulled off her; he disentangled his arm from around her, and started walking off, at a slow but steady pace, towards Jason Russard who he seemed to have noticed at last.

With a sigh, Cora put her champagne flute down onto the tray of a passing server, but didn't bother to pick up a new one. Considering the possibilities for her son's choices of females to take to this party was keeping her mind temporarily occupied, and off thinking about her other worries. She was hoping it would be this new assistant Getar had told her about - she'd seen and heard much about the young lady, so naturally she was curious...

With a frown she started nervously playing with the buttonholes on her light overcoat. This was the first of such occasions that she and her son had not come together, and she missed his familiar presence by her side, his conversation, his delightful sarcasm with which he would have made it tolerable for her to stand here like this without her husband by her side, feeling very much abandoned.

If only there was some way to talk sense into the boy...

Her mouth felt dry; so she started moving into the direction of a server who obligingly met her halfway. Holding a full glass, she tried to push misery away from her for the sake of the evening, but knowing what was to come - or rather, what wasn't - she failed quite badly.




http://www.nyahalcyon.net/rpg/counis.jpg

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Indeed she is very beautiful." Santiago smiled as he handed Estelle a glass of champagne. There was one for himself all ready. The Rebel took a moment to kiss Milivikal's hand, then gave Estelle's hand a kiss as well. "Hello Miss Grey. It is good to see you."

Milivikal only gave a slight acknowledgment of Santiago, she was too enamored with Estelle to be bothered. The acting Sub-Director of Analysis' mind flashed briefly on wondering what a strange woman Milivikal was but didn't hold onto it for too long. Estelle was turning towards her father, Jason The Younger.

"Father, this is Santiago Cristobal. We met on Naboo during my business trip there."

"Hello Mister Cristobal." Jason gave a friendly handshake. "What were you doing on Naboo?"

Santiago's smile seemed almost sheepish. "I'm a financial analyst for Venthan Chassu's (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Venthan_Chassu) estate. The education side of it. I go from art institute to art institute and look and see which artist deserves a scholarship. From there we take them to Selonia where they receive additional training from his apprentices.

"It's not as exiciting as running an entire corporation, but I do enjoy it."

[Yeart Quenn]

Guests kept on arriving, joining the crowd, meeting and greeting with much bowing and heel-snapping amongst the men, and showing of teeth and politely simpering amongst the women. The more famous were received by the less famous with undisguised fawning-over, their pasty smiles still reminiscent of the envious scathing whispers passed to and fro behind hands raised to their lips. It was all so fake.

Refreshing, in a way. Maybe he should allow parties like this amongst the Kuati nobility again, things were getting a bit stale at home.

Of course he was bored out of his brain. Having found a quiet alcove on the gallery overlooking the big hall early on, he'd retreated to it with a full bottle of champagne he'd demanded from one of the servers, and helped himself to some of the thin t'bac sticks he'd taken to carrying around with him ever since the Cayan Club incident.

He had absolutely no interest in talking to the majority of people there. Maybe one or two he would pick out, and approach them at a later point that night, when people had tired of the novelty of this event and weren't as eager as hyenax to approach anyone in sight. But until then he intended to stay where he was, and enjoy the view of the hall - and the magnificent view of the skyline of Coruscant, as could be seen from the large window in the alcove. The window could be opened, and he had taken to leaning out of it while smoking his sticks, being fairly certain that it was something frowned upon amongst the crowd below.

"Master, you asked me to tell you...?" the voice came from behind him just as he was enjoying his 7th stick of the evening. He turned his head to acknowledge the telbun standing there, but didn't move otherwise. "You asked to be informed when Minister Tagge would arrive."

There was something in her voice that he didn't quite like. Something that irritated him. Couldn't the woman ever just give him a straightforward answer?!? Obviously Sanya Tagge had arrived - why not just say so instead of dancing around the point? He lifted an annoyed eyebrow. "Well...?"

"She just did."

The telbun's voice had dropped in volume, barely discernable above the din from below. What was with the woman?!? He turned to give her the full benefit of his annoyance with her, but to his surprise found that she was looking miserable already. In fact ... she seemed to be unwell, on second glance. Considering himself incredibly noble for doing so, he stepped forward and patted her shoulder, adding "Go get some fresh air - I don't need you for this evening anymore."

She feebly nodded to that, and turned to walk off. He followed her disappearing back with his eyes until she'd vanished down the stairs, then stepped forward to the banisters and looking down to check for the familiar face of Sanya Tagge.

Five minutes later, the Minister of Truth felt a cool hand on her shoulder, and someone drawling from behind her: "Sanya, Sanya, Sanya.... seems fate has thrown us together again, eh?"

[Roger Phillips]

Roger certainly hadn't expected to be interrupted on his way to get a drink, but on a night like tonight he certainly had the wit to expect the unexpected. "Certainly, Mr Kazaar," he replied to the other's request. "Give me just a moment."

It took him a moment to locate the familiar head of his employer among the crowds, and another minute or so to politely avoid his way through the crowd to Jason the Younger's side. The other looked at the lovely blonde in front of him with a certain sad astonishment, and Roger found himself reluctant to interrupt. It needed to be done, however.

"Mr Russard," he said quietly into the other's ear, cupping a hand in front of his mouth so as not to let anything drift over to other nearby guests. "You're wanted on the balcony. Mr Kazaar would like to speak to you."

[Travis North]

It had been some time since Travis last attended a social event with high society types. The whole idea of rubbing shoulders with the rich to get ahead was always something he found to be a waste of time. If you want something you should just go ahead and take it. If someone opposes you throw back a challenge. That’s how it worked on the battlefield, and it worked well in most other situations. Still, there were those times when a few words did a better job than a blaster bolt, those very rare times.

He enjoyed the pleasant silence for the remainder of his speeder ride, knowing that for the rest of the evening there would be the buzz of the crowd in his ears. Space me now.

The vehicle pulled up to the estate and joined the parade up to the estate’s main entrance. Travis took those last minutes to adjust his appearance. He patted down the accolades on his chest and adjusted the lanyard over his right shoulder. It filled him with great pride to adorn his dress uniform, it spoke more about him than he even felt comfortable with. Each display piece of it had come at a cost of life, which truly gave them value, in addition to a haunting memory of war and the life he lived in service to the Empire.

The speeder finally came to a halt and the door at Travis’ side was opened for him. For a brief instant he was reluctant to step out, a cold chill struck his soul, and left him with a sense that not all was at it should be. Most times that feeling came warning of a danger on the battlefield he hadn’t anticipated. Alert now, he made himself more aware of what was happening around him. This evening wasn’t to be a simple cruise; events would be set in motion that would have a significant impact in his life. He firmly planted a boot on the ground and stepped out from the vehicle taking in a deep breath. The air was crisp, refreshing, and eased the tension he felt ever so slightly. He turned back to the open door and withdrew the final ornamental piece that completed his attire: a uniform sword. There, not completely defenseless, just outgunned. He cinched up the belt around his waist and adjusted the hilt so it rested comfortably at his side. Ready for the evening he stepped forward to enter the estate.

After presenting his invitation, and passing the security check with sword still by his side, he made his way into the Grand Hall. The amount of people present was more than he’d envisioned, but it made getting lost in the crowd a whole lot easier. Just try not to step on anyone’s toes.

[Jason Russard]

"Who?" Jason pulled his attention reluctantly from Adelaide, to place it upon Roger, "What?"

Roger repeated himself patiently, smiling politely to effect the impression nothing was amiss, only some minor detail that needed Russard's attention. Jason looked at the young man a moment, wondering by the forced smile if Roger had been in the Schnapps, but then immediately realised his purpose for such deflection - Getar V'al Counis was almost upon them.

Jason directed quickly, yet discreetly, that Roger see to Mr Kazaar himself for the moment. Aurelias most-likely wanted to punch Jason in the nose again, and that was something that could wait.

"Getar!" Jason greeted the Counis Corp CEO with an outstretched hand, steering him to his left and away from Roger and Adelaide, whom even Jason could see was glad of the chance to avoid a conversation with him. "So good of you to come" he continued genially, "Where is your wife?"

[Vince]

Jason the Younger seemed a bit busy at the moment. Stepping forward a few paces, he brought himself near to Adelaide and asked, “How do you do it?”

It took her a moment to notice that he had spoken with her, and her response to him was almost the exact duplicate of her earlier response to Russard.

“How did you do it?” he asked, gesturing to Russard, who was speaking with an old, balding man. “Get our illustrious host to search you out, I mean. I've been trying to thank him for the invitation, or for the location of those who sent them so I can thank them, but it's been a mite difficult. Lots of more important people than me here.”

He grinned and shook his head, before looking back at the young woman. “Ah. I'm Trix Idalix by the by. It's nice to meet you...?”

[Sanya Tagge]

Five minutes later, the Minister of Truth felt a cool hand on her shoulder, and someone drawling from behind her: "Sanya, Sanya, Sanya.... seems fate has thrown us together again, eh?"

“Fate?” Sanya smiled at the absurdity of the idea, then cast a glance up at Cael who was smiling too, though more on reflex than because he understood whatever was amusing his companion. If anything had brought the Minister and the Moff together again, it was loathsome misfortune. What Sanya Tagge wanted from Yeart Quenn, she had already taken yet from the look on that slimy face of his, Quenn believed otherwise. Letting her fingertips trail an adoring line down Bathala's arm, Tagge glanced between the two men.

“Cael, this is Yeart Quenn, Moff of Kuat. Yeart... meet Cael Bathala.”

With introductions given, the pilots name hung in the air like an invitation. Sanya didn't imagine for one moment that Yeart Quenn was a follower of swoop-racing, where Bathala had made his name as a driver for TaggeCo's prize-winning Team Tagge. Nor did she expect he was up to date on who was making a splash at the starfighter flight academy. When Yeart did not fill the silence, Bathala took that as a sign something was expected of him.

He felt a panicked moment of uncertainty over how he should address a man of Quenn's standing within the Imperial government. Sanya's own somewhat blasé attitude was justifiable, given her superior standing, but Cael was just a pilot and, though charming, distinctly out of his depth when surrounded by such dignities. So, he did what he knew and saluted.

“It's an honour to meet you, sir.”

Sanya gave his arm a squeeze as a girlish grin lit her features, thinking how he looked just as a man of the Empire should.

[Xavier Synik]

Xavier led them into ballroom with her arm tucked around his, a glass of a full bodied red having found it's way into his free hand. The wine was one of the best he had ever tasted. Not that that was any surprise. It would have been social suicide for the Russard's to serve anything but the best. Not that they wouldn't have served the best regardless of the social ramifications.

Looking around Xavier searched the many faces for any one that he recognized. He wasn't counting on it, but one never knew. However instead of finding a familiar face he only found himself bombarded with a lot of foreign faces, and far more dress uniforms then he would have liked. But it wasn't his party, and dealing with the Empire was part of doing business, even if it was something that his business actually tried to avoid.

There were a few people who caught his eye as people he might want to approach at some point in the night, for the moment he was happy just to blend into the crowd and assess the environment, and to enjoy the wine of course.

[Emelie Shadowstar]

"Reminds me of the last vintage from Lynaria..."

The voice spoke up from Xavier's side in an almost whistful light way. She coudln't help but make the comparison between the wine in hand and the personal bottles from their estate. It was more to create some memory to form in her mind, to just add that slight bit of overall comfort wrap around her when over all she felt somehow still out of place. Normally akin to a chameleon creature she could adapt, shift herself to fit into practically any social environment but for some reason she felt off here. And then it hit her why...everyone seemed to know each other. At least in some context or another. The subtle looks of recognition, the instant striking up of conversations between small groups or pairs, it all showed they were all part of this particular little social circle. Imperial elite indeed.

It made her feel like she was caged somewhat, to stand on the fringes of something her and her companion had only been lucky to be a part of. To hell with that. Her hand gently grazed that of her companion's and she gave him a small look that gave away her internal thoughts all too well. A small wave on was all that Emelie needed from her partner before she left his side. The girl wasn't without manners though...a quick glance around the room sussed out who was doing the typical "Goodness, how have you been! You look amazing!" that was happening about and finally found another who seemed in a similar perdicament. The poor....was he Arkanian?...man seemed at the mercy of some Moff's inquisative wife. A small impish smirk came to her lips as the woman's ramblings gave away his identity, the rest of her information came from other sources.

A feined nervousness...the back of her fingertips brushing against her lips, a pause, a slight fidget, just enough to make sure the woman speaking to the Prime Minister of Onderon was suddenly aware of the presence of the far younger woman who had approached before a gentle cough preceeded her innerjection and subsequent addressing of the man in what was her best polite if almost innocent-sounding tone.

"Mister...Ave, is it? Might I have a word...or two?"

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Kazaar had disappeared from sight by the time Adelaide swept a quick look to where she'd first spotted him, but she had no time to consider where he may have gone. Beside her, Jason and Getar V'al Counis were exchanging the usual pleasantries, and beside them, Estelle and her companions were drifting off further amongst the guests in the casual way people do at these places.

Trix had introduced himself and was grinning at her expectantly -- obviously, waiting her response.

"Adelaide" she said, and held out her hand stiffly, which seemed to amuse Idalix further, taking it and shaking it accordingly.

"You look very familiar, Trix" Del ventured, though she was still sufficiently distracted by Aurelias' appearance earlier to not organize her thoughts very well "..though I admit, I'm certain I cant know you as I dont know any Imperial Officers that Im aware of..?"

[Caran V'al Counis]

He loved how it made her nervous.

Nya Halc -- Ahem, Aree Ankarta was the kind of woman who liked to retain a certain level of control over her life. A certain kind of woman who got uneasy when she didn't have all the cards, when she couldn't see either way whether things were going to end up favourably or otherwise, it forced her to do one of a few things or several things. In this case, she was left with one option - given that the directives were coming from her employer, it was indeed the only option outside of harshly disagreeing with him - to obey and trust him. Especially the trust part.

It was fun seeing her squirm like that for once, like she always did to him (and it was never clear whether she was doing it on purpose, to his constant frustration). Looking like a lady seemed so alien to her; being without her armaments was another little bug in her backside. For most intents and purposes, she was at the mercy of Caran V'al Counis for the evening. And damn it, they were going to enjoy themselves.

At least as much as I can enjoy myself around Cora. Not to mention hobknobbing with all these other people who take their social station just a little too seriously.

It was things like that which made the heir to Counis Corporation itch for a cigarra. That itch was one he had to restrain himself from indulging this evening for the sake of an image he was usually content to not uphold when he could reasonably get away with it.
<o></o>
“We have a specific… image to uphold, certain unwritten rules to adhere to. Just play the part and you’ll do fine.” He let out, finally. Then he tipped his head across to her, his cheek against the back of the seat, a sly grin on his face. “And it does suit you. I knew it would.”
<o></o>
He was talking about the dress, of course. “You really should spend more time out of that armor, you know. You have a nice…”
<o></o>
“Sir? We’ve arrived.” The driver interrupted with his announcement before Caran could finish and before Nya could put up any sort of argument about his forming compliment… or whatever it was.
<o></o>
Caran turned his face to the front of the speeder and smiled politely, placing a hand on the release for the door his side of the back seat.
<o></o>
“Ah, so we have.” He acknowledged, nudging the door open and looking to Nya again. “Ready?”<o></o>
<o></o>
He didn’t wait for her answer, slipping out the door and bumping it shut with a nudge of his elbow. Next thing she would know, he’d be on her side of the speeder, door open and hand extended. Behind him sat the Russard Estate. He wasn’t aware whether she was familiar with the place or the event occurring there tonight. He just hoped to hope that she would behave appropriately. He had the same hope for Cora, when it came to him.

“Come, my dear. We’ve people to meet, greet and cavort with.”

[Vince]

"You look very familiar, Trix" Del ventured, though she was still sufficiently distracted by Aurelias' appearance earlier to not organize her thoughts very well "..though I admit, I'm certain I cant know you as I dont know any Imperial Officers that Im aware of..?"
<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> She seemed a bit distracted, but the former actor took no offence. “Well,” he said, scratching his jaw lightly, “I've done a bit of acting now and then. People thought I was pretty good, I suppose, though I've never watched anything I've done, so I can't say. Command thought it might be a good idea for me to do some public relations appearances recently, so perhaps you've seen me on the holo?”

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> He gave another lop-sided grin and a shrug, and finished off his glass of champagne. A server seemingly materialised next to him and he waved off a replacement glass.

“But I don't think I like talking about myself and where you might have seen me. Would you care to walk about and talk, Adelaide?” Trix's smile <style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> changed to give him the appearance of being slightly apologetic. “You're the only one I've introduced myself to, and I'd rather not have to go through the harrowing experience again with someone less real than I feel you to be.”

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Getar!" Jason greeted the Counis Corp CEO with an outstretched hand, steering him to his left and away from Roger and Adelaide, whom even Jason could see was glad of the chance to avoid a conversation with him. "So good of you to come" he continued genially, "Where is your wife?"

Getar V'al Counis gave his host a grunt while taking his hand and shaking it, saying "'Wouldn't have missed it, Junior," with an air of familiarity entirely out of place. The head of the Counis Corporation knew the older Russard much better than the younger one, having sat on enough mercantile board meetings with old Jake Russard, but he didn't let that stop him. He'd always had a quirky humor, and there was no better vent than a society party like this to get a few raises out of his peers - in whichever way.

Not bothering to wait for a reply, he pointed at the general direction from whence he'd come and mumbled, "'Wife's over there somewhere." He took a long sip of champagne and peered over the rim of the glass as he did it. "Where's the old man?" he then asked, with a grin, since he was almost as old as the old Russard himself.

[Yeart Quenn]

“It's an honour to meet you, sir.”

Sanya gave his arm a squeeze as a girlish grin lit her features.
"Yes, yes... very nice..." he said, not bothering to look at the younger man.

He didn't buy for a second that she was actually involved with this oaf, whoever he was. But if she wanted to play this game, then he'd let her - let her have her fun.

Of course, now that he was here, he had no intention of leaving her side again. Instead, he stepped to her side and had her arm slung under his before she could as much as open her mouth in protest, then leaned in to whisper into her ear: "Smart of you to turn down my offer, for this. I have to admit I was a bit angry that you didn't take it, but now of course it makes sense." And then, with a wicked grin, he added. "The man has enough sex appeal to rub off even on you - I doubt I would have been able to make you look any less frigid than you do, even if you'd sashayed in here on my arm totally nude."

[Salem Ave]

It was becoming quickly apparent that the Moff's wife who had latched onto Salem Ave was a) not about to stop talking any time soon and, consequently, b) not going to introduce him to any of the other guests at the party. Letting his eyes wander for a moment, the Arkanian tuned out the woman's chattering until it became just like the faint buzzing of a fly. What he needed was someone unattached, someone important...


"Mister...Ave, is it? Might I have a word...or two?"

...or her. The plump woman at Salem's side gave the girl a stare, as if to say that she was currently having a word or two with Mr. Ave. He touched a hand to her back, in a gesture that very gently suggested she should continue to mingle elsewhere. “Certainly... madame, please excuse us.”

Taking the hint as gracefully as she could, the woman was soon gone in search of another ear to talk off. Salem took a sip from his wine and let his attention turn back to his new, younger companion. If there was anything to be learned from this gathering, it was that the power of the Empire seemed to lie with its youth.

“I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Miss...?”

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"You take my breath away."

Milivikal blushed deeply. Estelle's surprise and pleasure washed over her. Cristobal said something, but it was dim and distant, like everything else in the room.

"Thank you." She said, nearly timidly, and gathered herself again. The room undimmed slowly. She stayed near Estelle, and nodded politely to Jason the Younger, who returned the gesture with a smile. He enjoyed seeing money well spent.

"Estelle," she asked, "what do people do on such occasions?" Estelle was not given a chance to respond.

"I mean," she added quickly, "what should I do?" She'd only gone to things like this as a diplomat. Without that directive of delicate words and obligations for harmony, she felt the Quarren on Tatooine.

[Estelle Russard]

"You try.." Estelle responded with a crooked smile, "..to have a good time, despite all the pomp and stifling good manners." Mili flicked an uncertain eye about her..that would be a challenge.

Estelle laughed lightly, "Its not as hard as you might think" - this coming from a girl who had known this lifestyle since a child and was as comfortable in the present company as in an old pair of slippers, - the Imperial elite notwithstanding.

"There are some very interesting people present" Estelle continued to Mili and, as if to prove it, she started discretely pointing out a few of them. "Over there is the Minister of Truth, Sanya Tagge, speaking to the Moff of Kuat." Santiago sipped his wine following with his eyes the distant introductions. "And there is Getar V'al Counis of Counis Corp talking with my dad. That is his son, Caran, over there by the fireplace with that elegant young lady -- he and I used to have spitting contests when we were kids. He's such a sore loser" she added gleefully.

"Im not sure who that pair are" she was looking at Salem and Emelie and noticed her Grandfather was noticing them too, as he crossed to the young man Xavier, standing some way across from them, intending to say hello. This prompted Estelle to suggest to Mili, "You should go and introduce yourself to some of them...Im sure they'd love to chat to you - you'd be a breath of fresh air from the usual stuffy lot they are surrounded by. Just, be careful" she warned in a lowered voice. "There are some Inquisitoriate Officers here tonight. She gestured surrepticiously to Lykaios, "Perhaps he's one as Ive not seen him at any of these events before, though I couldnt really say for sure. He just has an...air, dont you think Santiago?"

[Eliessa Corta]

"Hello Commodore" Eliessa said pleasantly, coming up beside Travis North after finally ditching the annoying rat-lawyer who had accosted her earlier. Some people have no notion on how to behave upon first impressions.

North, however, should be a very different affair and Corta was looking forward to a conversation with him. Having never met him before, Travis would perhaps not know who she was. Corta, however, had a file two inches thick on the Commodore and his career achievments. Travis turned at the sound of her voice.

"Congratulations on your new Empress" Eliessa said with an enigmatic smile.

[Travis North]

“Congratulations on your new Empress.”

“Indeed, this is a great time for the Empire.” Travis replied, returning the woman’s smile.

He tried to place her face with a name, but nothing came to mind. Just great, someone recognizes you and you draw a blank. It wasn’t entirely unexpected though, more than half the people present Travis had never seen or heard of before.

“Forgive me, but you have me at a loss for a name. Have we met?”

[Eliessa Corta]

"Eliessa Corta, of the Order of Solomon" she answered pleasantly. No bells rang for North and the Judge's smile broadened, having anticipated the non-response. "Of the Judiciary Department" she explained. "Im currently investigating the Imperial Inquisitoriate regarding a large number of missing Moffs." It was a decent enough volley, if a little impolite, but Corta wasn't much of a stickler for proprietry. North kept an impassive expression. She continued, "Not that I'd expect you to know anything about all that Commodore, different branch from you entirely isnt it..?" Her smile remained fixed, but her eyes suddenly gleamed quite shrewdly at Travis. "Am I right?"

[Jason Russard]

Lucky for Jason, rusty old buzzards like V'al Counis who were used to getting away with all kinds of irrascable offences, were a familiar breed to him. His own father could have written a book on 'how to step on a young mans toes and make him apologize for it'. So, it was with a good-natured grin he took Getar's jabs on the chin.

"Im sure you'll find my father at the business end of either a new shipping deal with some inexperienced entrepeneur or that of a Saccorian Cigar out on the balcony, which ever gets lit the quicker"

Jason was probably not too far from the truth as Getar would appreciate.

"Oh, thats him there" Jason was looking over shoulders and between heads. "I think that is Mr Synik he is talking to. Do you know him, Getar?"

[Old Man Russard]

Russard approached Xavier, who's gaze had been moving non-committally about the room.

"He looks like a bit of a dullard to me" The Old man opined, "Your girl will be back here talking to us in no time. Synik, isn't it?" Jason asked, more by way of getting to gruff introductions than to confirm who it actually was he was talking to - he knew quite well who Xavier was. "Silenus Corp, correct?"

[Santiago Cristobal]

She gestured surrepticiously to Lykaios, "Perhaps he's one as Ive not seen him at any of these events before, though I couldnt really say for sure. He just has an...air, dont you think Santiago?"

"Most Imperials do." Cristobal smiled as he looked at Lykaios. "They prefer to remind people how 'important' they are to the universal economy. I ran into an Inquisitor once." His voice lowered. "During an operation on Caamas. I was barely able to get out alive before the bombardment hit.

"Him though. I don't know. Think we should introduce ourselves?"

[Emelie Shadowstar]

“I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Miss...?”
"Shadowstar."

The name came out polite enough as could be expected given the entire situation.

"Though I don't suppose its a name you will have heard of. I'm afraid I'm not as..." She pondered the words for a moment. "renowned as others here."

Emelie's eyes wandered the crowd again, passing by Moffs, fellow company owners, maybe even an esteemed general or two of the Empire's military...her gaze even flicked back to Xavier for a moment who was now speaking with the elder Russard. Gods they were all so important compared to her. Even the man in front of her...a Prime Minster...goodness. She was out of her element. If this had been a meeting of some heads of back handed criminal organizations she could have bluffed them all and tried to play them...this...this was just odd. For a split second she came to the conclusion that when all this pomp was over, she was going to retreat to her own bar she owned on the middle levels of Coruscant and have a pint of beer. Get out of this getup, maybe enjoy a good game of pazaak...

"Though, I suppose I must admit...I thought you might have just wanted to get away from that woman for a bit."

Emelie let a small polite, almost innocent laugh leave her just before she finished the glass of wine she held...and before another comment could leave her lips a waiter was offering her another. That was impressive. Even her own aids weren't that attentive to any guests she'd ever had about. It stunned her into silence for a moment before she could take another sip of the stunning vintage.

"The Empire is not so accepting of other races, until now, it seems. I find this to be a grandiose step forward for them. After all, a few years ago I would have been shunned and I pale to think of the opportunities missed if they had chosen to disregard one of your status."

Gods...Emelie hated small talk that was forced to be proper. Truthfully she knew the Prime Minster held the ability to grant her company rights to access and even aid in the imports and exports from Onderon and their new allies of the Hapes Consortium and beyond...but to start there was just...uncivilized. And it wasn't that she was there to talk pure business, either. In truth, some part of her was genuinely interested in the man who stood before her. After all, everyone else appeared completely human in the room except for Ave and herself. Even if Emelie was trying her hardest to disguise the half of her lineage that spoke of far more unsavory things.

[Nya Halcyon]

“Come, my dear. We’ve people to meet, greet and cavort with.”

"If you say so," was all she gave him in reply, as she tried to get out of the speeder without doing any damage to the netting of the dress. This seemed such an outlandish and thoroughly alien concept for her to worry about, that once she'd alighted from the speeder and was standing outside in the fresh air again, surrounded by what appeared to be some kind of park, she felt dizzy with the surrealism of it all.

Trees? On Coruscant?

But a gentle pressure on her arm brought her back to herself, and the cogs in her mind were turning again. Trees: only the extremely rich could afford greenery, so to own as large a park as this, with actual trees inside it, right in what seemed the center of Imperial City, must mean the owner had to be much much more than just filthy rich. Unfortunately she didn't know the "upper" part of the planetcity quite as well as the underlevels, so she had absolutely no idea who this place belonged to.

The undertone had still been there when he'd told her the objective of the evening; there had still been something lurking underneath that businesslike attitude of his. But she couldn't guess at its meaning, and she wasn't going to pry otherwise, so... all she could do was hope for the best, for this to be a smooth operation - and over quickly.

So she allowed herself to be led inside - rather meekly, but looking as proud and erect as she could manage on her high-heeled shoes.

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Oh, thats him there" Jason was looking over shoulders and between heads. "I think that is Mr Synik he is talking to. Do you know him, Getar?"

"Never seen him before. What's he own?"

Looking over into the direction that Jason Junior had indicated, he found his old friend engaged in conversation with someone of whom he could only see the backside at present. Looked young, this Synik creature.

He had planned to head straight over to Jake and see if he could be pulled aside for a game of Imperial chess, but it wouldn't be polite to barge into a conversation with a man he had no measure of just yet. Better to find out something from Junior here before doing so.

[Sanya Tagge]

"Smart of you to turn down my offer, for this. I have to admit I was a bit angry that you didn't take it, but now of course it makes sense." And then, with a wicked grin, he added. "The man has enough sex appeal to rub off even on you - I doubt I would have been able to make you look any less frigid than you do, even if you'd sashayed in here on my arm totally nude."

“You know... I suddenly feel rather ill, Cael. Would you be a darling and fetch me a glass of water?”

Bathala nodded in obedient silence and broke away from his companion with an almost palpable sense of relief. Sanya watched him go and then steeling herself with a breath, turned her head so that although she was not looking directly at Quenn, the Moff was visible out of the corner of her eye. She spoke through a pretty smile, though her words were anything but.

“Don't you have anything better to do than yap around my heels like a kath-pup, Yeart? It was flattering at first, but now.. it's just sad.”

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Adelaide fell into an easy step beside Idalix as they made their way to the outer edges of the gathering. She was thankful for the chance to reign in her thoughts a little and moved absentmindedly in the appropriate direction whenever Trix gave an occasional guiding touch of his hand to her elbow.

"I may have seen you on the Promotionals the Navy have been broadcasting" she said, though her tone indicated that she rather doubted it. Del couldn't honestly say if she had seen even one of those holovid spots. No--he was familiar from a less recent time...perhaps in his early career days. It would come to her eventually, things like that always did and usually when she was doing something completely unrelated - like folding laundry or setting the alarm chrono.

Happy for the moment to be going in the opposite direction of where she had last seen Aurelias, Adelaide determined to be a little more engaging. This mental crushing everytime she saw her ex-husband and the emotions that catapulted themselves throughout her had just got to stop. She must try harder..

"Im a friend of the Russard family, so I only know a few people here too" she explained of her own purpose here. "Oh, and I know the Judge" she said, as if that was self-explanatory.

"How do you like being in the Service? I guess things are ramping up a lot more now that we have a new Empress....?"
Adelaide was far from expert on anything Imperial...apart from the very negative aspect of things and those observations had been greatly influenced in the past by Kazaar, and now in the present, by Eliessa. She was genuinely interested in the chance of hearing someone's point of view who was an enthusiastic part of the Empire and what they might have to say.

[Vince]

"How do you like being in the Service? I guess things are ramping up a lot more now that we have a new Empress?"

He led them on a meandering path through the party, careful to steer clear of those who didn't seem very engaged in their conversations. He was just about to ask Adelaide who “the Judge” was, when she asked her own question; he wouldn't be rude, so he answered her question and hoped he'd remember his when he was done.

“It's...” he paused, trying to find the right word to describe his feelings about the service. He finally settled with the simple statement, “I find it to be fulfilling.”

He shrugged. “The Empire is far from perfect I know, but I've heard and seen some things from people who've fought in the Clone Wars or were on planets where battles were fought. That's why I joined, to keep something like that from happening again. The Republic was largely at fault for the Clone Wars beginning in the first place, so I couldn't in good conscience join an organisation that wants to bring it back.”

That was as close to saying that he had once thought about joining the Rebellion as he'd ever get. He didn't join them in the end, and his record was clear, but all the same he'd rather not have to explain it to some very suspicious Intelligence Agents or some such people.

“As for things getting busier, well, I guess you could say they are. Some things I can't tell you, but there's been some rumours of a big offensive being launched at some point.” He winked. There was a moment of silence, and Trix suddenly remembered his own question.

“It must be nice to so connected to have friends like the Russards, hm?” he grinned. “But I wonder, who is the 'Judge'? Your employer or something like that?”

[Xavier Synik]

Russard approached Xavier, who's gaze had been moving non-committally about the room.

"He looks like a bit of a dullard to me" The Old man opined, "Your girl will be back here talking to us in no time. Synik, isn't it?" Jason asked, more by way of getting to gruff introductions than to confirm who it actually was he was talking to - he knew quite well who Xavier was. "Silenus Corp, correct?"

Xavier was somewhat shocked. Not that the elder Russard knew who he was, as from what he knew of the man he was the type who would have reviewed any personnel files for anyone that he hadn't known before. No the surprise was from the fact that the host of the party had actually taken the time to greet him.

"Yes Sir." Xavier extended his hand to the elder Russard. "It's a pleasure to meet you. it gives me the opportunity to thank you for your gracious invitation this evening."

[Estelle Russard]

"Most Imperials do." Cristobal smiled as he looked at Lykaios. "They prefer to remind people how 'important' they are to the universal economy. I ran into an Inquisitor once." His voice lowered. "During an operation on Caamas. I was barely able to get out alive before the bombardment hit.

"Him though. I don't know. Think we should introduce ourselves?"

Estelle gave a quick glance at Mili to see if she liked the idea, but her head was down - her eyes beading down a miniscule speck of lint that had attached itself to her deep blue dress and she was in the process of plucking it off.

"Sounds good" Estelle declared, not waiting further and she took Mili's hand in her own, so they might make their way over to where he stood.

Russard would not say Lykaios wore the most approachable of visages, but he did develop a faint half-smile as they neared him.

"I hope you are not finding things too boring" she said as they shuffled up beside him, incongruous company that they were for a probable Inquisitoriate officer. "I wonder if there is someone you were expecting here tonight that we might assist you in finding?"

[Jason Russard]

Jason gave a sideways look at Getar, finding it hard to believe the old man didn't have Synik's particulars down to his tax audit file number, much like his father might - but gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"Young money, as far as I know" Jason said, recalling the general info easily. "Operates out of the Ruusan System. Transports and Acquisitions are the bulk of the enterprise I think. Probably here tonight to diversify a bit.." That was Jason's impression, anyway. And his fathers by the looks.

"Silenus is one of the fastest growing Corporations we've seen in a long while. Synik is a man to watch."

[Old Man Russard]

"Yes Sir." Xavier extended his hand to the elder Russard. "It's a pleasure to meet you. it gives me the opportunity to thank you for your gracious invitation this evening."

Blue eyes appraised with a hint of amusement as Jason shook Xavier's hand...geez, had he ever been that young? "You're welcome, Mr. Synik." Russard reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek silver case, popping open the lid by depressing a small bronze R on its edge. "Smoke, do you son?" the old man asked, offering him his pick of a cigar. "Saccorians - best tabacco ever grown" he assured Synik. "'Course, we'll have to smoke 'em outside - Roger will have a durf-monkey if I light up here." Outside would also be a good place to escape Lissell's watchful eye, but the Old Man kept that to himself. His nurse was far too concerned about his health for Russard's liking.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Adelaide felt an odd sensation of alarm as Trix hinted at some Imperial offensive, but it never got a chance to hold her thoughts for long. He had smiled and changed the subject, managing to assure her with his own confident manner that it was nothing at all to be concerned about.

She considered his decision to serve the Empire and found his openness refreshing. It was more than she had expected and she found herself relaxing a little and warming to Trix's company.

"Judge Corta is with the Judiciary Department - I am her assistant, though all I really do is carry the breifcase and summon the driver." Trix laughed, he thought she was joking. Adelaide smiled herself, it was kind of funny despite it being true. "I feel very fortunate" she added, realising that she really did feel that way. After all the horrible things the past year had brought, Del could honestly say she had a lot to be appreciative of.

"Are you stationed here in Imperial Center?" she asked, sipping her lime and soda.

[Lykaios]

After making his way inside the manor, Lykaios’s gaze danced around the hall, from one countenance to the next, putting names to the faces he had studied on his way to the Ruusard Estate.
<o></o>
Aside from always attracting attention, being 7’1” (2.13 mts) could have its advantages, in this case in particular, such asset was the fact that he could pretty much see everybody and anybody from where he stood.

As he made his way through the room, a glass of champagne had already made its own way to his right hand. Taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage, Lykaios realized it was one very expensive liquor and an extremely good one, albeit not the best he had ever tasted, but one that was certainly more than fitting to such special occasion.
<o></o>
As the glass untouched his lips, his eyes found the familiar sight of Sanya Tagge, The Imperial Minister of Truth, and the very reason he had joined The Empire. Did she seemed annoyed at her company? And who was she with? Before the Inquisitor could match a name to the Minister’s companion, he was told by The Force that someone was coming in his direction. Instinctively and naturally turning in the direction he had been alerted, his gaze met a woman’s who was leading another woman and apparently also being accompanied by man.
<o></o>
“M’lady,” Said the towering Imperial at the same time he nodded slightly. “This gathering is anything but.” Was the party frivolous? Perhaps. Filled with appearances? Maybe. But boring? Absolutely not.
<o>
</o>“I am afraid I’m not as lucky as you to have such fine company,” His eyes were now posed in Mili “Or any company for that matter. But I’d like to thank you for your kind offer.” Switching the glass to his left hand, he reached for Estelle’s right hand and placed a light kiss on the tip of her knuckles. “Name is Lykaios.”<o></o><o>
</o>

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She was not quite as fashionably late as she usually was, but Sasseeri had managed to stall her Imperial hosts by changing her clothes at least a dozen times before deeming herself ready to go. The half-human, half-Cizerack female had settled on a bluish green dress that was long but managed not to make her look shorter than she already was. A pair of three and a half inch silver heels helped with the illusion.

Her hair was swept up into a loose twist, a few haphazard pieces artfully hanging loose around her face, and she hung lightly from her escort's arm as he walked her up into the party. Inquisitor Rekoj seemed a bit dour, and not her usual type, but he was male and that was pretty much all that mattered. She'd already determined that she was going to have her way with him before the evening was out, just to spite the Grand Inquisitor.

She leaned up close to him, speaking softly. "Qujite a gatherrrjing of the rrrjich and powerrrful, jisn't jit."

[Vince]

He felt her relax and some unfelt tension also eased from his shoulders. Captain Idalix decided that her smile was very fetching, and that he'd like to see her smile more.

“For the moment,” Trix replied, smiling wanly. “I've been promoted, so I got a bit of down-time here before I made my way to my new post to smile and tell everyone who'd listen that the Service is the best thing since the Baron's Breakfast Biscuit.”

He remembered the last time he'd had a Breakfast Biscuit. They were very tasty, truth be told.

“I'm supposed to find my new commander at this party and give him the papers so he can finalise the transfer,” he shrugged, sighing wistfully as he looked out the windows to the lights of Imperial Centre. “And then it's off into space again, to serve my Empress with dignity and pride.”

He'd puffed himself up and said the last with a mockingly dramatic tone and punctuated his attempt at humour with a quick snap of his heels as he stood at attention; but it didn't hold up for long, and he grinned as he resumed his normal relaxed posture.

“Looking to enter the Judiciary yourself?” he asked, keeping the conversation going. Adelaide was good company, and while he didn't judge himself very good at socialising, he'd do his best to keep her interested.

[Caran V'al Counis]

He'd led her, somewhat discreetly, to the area around the fireplace, being content to just observe for the time being and see just how long he could evade Cora's attention. Freely, his eyes wandered the room, a man passed by with a tray off of which he plucked two glasses, handing one off to Nya, keeping the other for his own enjoyment. At that moment, he'd spotted Estelle pointing him out and he made a small effort to smile handsomely and wave back. The girl was younger than him (nine years!) and growing up, he'd often ended up with the task of entertaining her, which wasn't all that bad he had to admit, not that he would have admitted it to the other boys at the time.

"That's Estelle Russard, daughter of our gracious host for the evening. She's probably spouting off some nonsense about besting me when we were younger." Caran muttered amusedly to his companion. "As girls go, she wasn't half bad."

As nice as it was to see Estelle, given they certainly didn't see much of each other nowadays what with the busy and rather separate lives they led, he was a good deal curious about the lithe creature standing close to her. He browsed over her features from afar for a good few minutes before shaking his head and laughing, turning his attention to other attendants. He spyed Jason Russard, the Younger, chatting it up with his much older father.

"Ah, there's my father, Getar. He's talking with Jason Russard, who is the father of the young lady I pointed out to you earlier. His father, by the same name, is around here somewhere..."

And he went on, introducing her to the gathered from their cosy position by the fire, oblivious to anyone that might take interest in himself or Aree and decide to approach. He could happily pass the evening having only her for company. He'd been to several do's like this before. Remaining in relative quiet with only Nya as his company would be enough, but as he caught the eye of one patron, his hopes for a quiet evening were ultimately dashed.

[Yeart Quenn]

“Don't you have anything better to do than yap around my heels like a kath-pup, Yeart? It was flattering at first, but now.. it's just sad.”

Putting one hand firmly to the small of her back - the cool and smooth silkiness of her dress against his fingers was giving him goosebumps - he gave a low chuckle at her prissy manner. This dame was anything but that - if one managed to get under her skin, as their last encounter had shown. He was starting to really enjoy making her squirm, especially with all these other people around - she'd have to stick to the tedious Imperial protocol for these occasions and remain polite down to the tips of her delicious toes. What a wonderful opportunity.

"Oh I have - but it all figures you and a bed in it, and since I doubt you want to give these people something to gawk at, that's rather out of the question right now... my dear."

And before she had a moment to react to that, he leaned sideways and licked the bare skin behind her ear, where she had proved so sensitive the last time.

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Silenus is one of the fastest growing Corporations we've seen in a long while. Synik is a man to watch."

"'Thought it was a woman who headed it. That pink-haired one, she's around here somewhere. Shadow-something or other."

He'd had her in sights since she'd arrived. Exotic dame like that wasn't something one saw every day at shindigs like that. Of course he'd familiarized himself with her details a long while before this party, but he didn't recall the man's name at all. Must have skimmed that part about her, in his interest.

Too bad she was still so young. There weren't many female CEOs around. He would've enjoyed that, had he been a little younger. Then again....

Not waiting for Russard Junior to give him the correct name, he resolutely made his way over to his old friend, who was looking around with the air of someone trying to escape that dragon of a nurse of his. Good for him! Getar, knowing where Jake was going, didn't bother pushing through the crowd to get to him, but instead vanished through one of the side doors and from there on outside onto the balcony. For a man of 88, he could still move astonishingly fast - something he took pride in.

[Cora V'al Counis]

Her eyes had slipped over the crowd for a while, and been arrested by a very tall and certainly very handsome young man who was a total unknown to her. There were indeed quite many unknown faces here this evening, and Cora didn't know whether she should find this refreshing or a nuisance. There were even some unhuman features around - the CEO of Silenus Corp, for one, and a Cizerack, too. And then there was the strange white-eyed man who had somehow felt wrong, even though she had no way of understanding why. He certainly didn't look wrong, except for the unusual color of his eyes, but then a waiter she had asked had told her he was an Arkanian, and all Arkanians supposedly had eyes like that. Yet still she got an uneasy feeling whenever her eyes slipped past it.

The tall young man remained by himself for a while, and Cora had just made up her mind to go over and introduce herself and maybe make the poor boy a bit more welcome amongst this crowd of whom he obviously didn't know anyone, when she saw Russard's little girl accost him with a friend of hers. Yet now that she was already in mid-motion, she couldn't very well stop again and attract the attention of anyone by such jumpy behavior - no, she'd need to go somewhere.

It was then that she became aware of a presence in the room, and as she looked up, she met the eyes of her only son, who was suddenly almost directly in her way, even if there were more than 20 people milling between them.

He looked away after a moment during which his face had set into a scowl, but he didn't leave the spot he was in. Cora couldn't see who was next to him, but .. well.. she would - she was his mother, after all! Didn't a mother have the right to see - to talk - to her only son? He wasn't going to deny her that right here, in front of all these people! She'd be damned if she couldn't get him to at least exchange a word or two with her!

And before her courage could leave her again, she forced her way through the people in her way, eager and yet apprehensive of what was to come.

[Karl Valten]

Not early, but not too late, a sleek, black with red trim speeder settled neatly to street level before the Russard’s elegant estate. A few passers-by and party-goers let their eyes drift on the strange craft. Many did not recognize any manufacturer to go with the unique design, a rarity really given the wealth of most. Though the occasional keen eye picked out the armored compartments, despite its image as a pleasure-craft.

The quartet debarking from the speeder, however, did draw the most attention with a slew gasps and din of hushed whispering. Donned in the Empire’s finest garb, four Imperial Inquisitors moved to the steps, their names promptly checked off on the guest list by a visibly shaking host (as if he would deny them entrance anyway, but surprisingly the names were there).

Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten himself led the party. Even without an announcement he drew the eyes of all. Very few had even seen an Inquisitor, and not but a few days ago had this very man appeared as an imposing giant clad in heavy armor as he had coldly read charges of treason against several moffs on the holo-net.

But this man here was completely different than the one on the news. Dark-hair slicked back and only a hint a graying at the temples that more accented his visage than detract from it. A flowing coat of deep crimson embroidered with intricate gold-trim draped over an exquisite velvet vest and dark slacks, an Inquisitorial crest graced his left breast. A belt of the finest leather held the coat snug about his waist and held a scabbard and sword works of art of themselves. This look nothing like the terrifying Inquisitor, Karl Valten was positively dashing

The other Inquisitor’s fit the same bill. With along with Valten stood a woman in a shimmering dress that shifted many different shades of deep violet as the fabric rippled. Another older gentleman in a more traditional dress uniform, but no less intricate. And finally, and perhaps most strange of all to the party guests, a Devaronian donning fine silks in soft earthen tones. All three shared two commonalities with Valten, the Inquisitorial crest proudly sewn to the fabric, and ornate ceremonial swords that only seemed to enhance their garb. Even the female Inquisitor’s weapon matched her svelte figure and the scabbard the evanescing shades of her dress.

Valten drew a glass of Coruscant’s finest Emerald wine from the tray offered him and raised it in toast with a smile while the rapt attention still focused on the Inquisitors. “To our most gracious hosts and their splendid hospitality!” Several voices rang out in compliment and offered their toasts, but the overall demeanor of nervousness still prevailed.

“Oi, ah’ though’ this s’a party.” With one swift motion the Devaronian Inquisitor swiped a glass with a flourish and downed the drink in one go. Without breaking stride he tossed the glass in the air, landing it perfectly back in its place without so much as a wobble. “Ah fancy a round or two a’Bacarat, any gentleman r’lady care t’join?”

And with that the tension broke as the guests went back to their business and the Devaronian vanished finding a pair of pretty woman linked in each arm and an entourage of Coruscanti elite on his heels. Valten couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle.

[Roger Phillips]

"Certainly." Roger casually excused himself from the presence of his employer at the other's quietly uttered direction. He proceeded back towards the balcony, pausing momentarily to take stock of those other guests who had arrived. After noting a few he himself would be interested in chatting with, he moved on.

Kazaar still stood on the balcony with the pose of one expecting a confrontation. When he saw Roger returning alone, his face soured.

"Mr Kazaar, I bring Mr Russard's apologies," Roger began quickly, cutting the other off. "Unfortunately, he is unable to get away from his present company just now but he advised me to let you know he will come to discuss matters with you as soon as is convenient. Normally I'd be glad to offer myself as company until he could arrive, but regretfully my duties for the evening prevent it."

The talkative wife (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=307027&postcount=34) of Moff Kindel who had earlier bent the ear of Salem Ave, happened to be passing through the balcony area. She seemed without companion for the moment so Roger gambled. "Madame Kindel," he said, catching her attention. "Would you be so kind as to provide Mr Kazaar with some company while he waits to be attended to?"

The sudden positive attention caused the woman to gush and approach Kazaar like a mynock intending to latch onto a ship's hull. Using the other's momentary confusion, Roger quickly bowed out of the conversation.

"Mr Kazaar," Madame Kindel swooned. "How do you do?"


######

Not long after, Roger found himself back at the party proper, watching as Grand Inquisitor Valten and his companions made their entrance. Approaching Valten from behind, he offered greetings. "Grand Inquisitor, Inquisitors," he said, inclining his head to Valten first, then to his remaining companions. "A pleasure to see you in attendance. My name is Roger Phillips and I am the head of arrangements for the evening. Should you find you need anything, please do not hesitate to call upon me. I-"

The comm in his ear suddenly chimed.

"-apologize for so short an introduction," Roger continued smoothly, no break in his sentence. "However at this time a matter has arisen that requires my presence elsewhere. I hope, however, that we will be able to converse later in the evening. If you'll excuse me, I need to see my staff about an arriving guest."

Leaving the trio of Inquisitors (and passing a server with a drinks tray with a disappointed glance), Roger began moving off. Now, sadly, he had no time to indulge. Instead, he double-tapped his comm system to issue a pre-arranged notice to the staff, then lifted one hand and began making a series of hand gestures. At once, the atmosphere of the party subtly changed. The hired mini-orchestra shifted in the middle of their song and skipped ahead towards its end. The invisible servants moved with even greater urgency and purpose than they had before. One of them quietly approached the younger Jason Russard and politely took him aside from his current conversation, whispering in his ear that he would be needed to greet someone personally at the estate's terrace.

Roger, meanwhile, stood downstairs at the check-in facing a small troop of personnel led by two warriors dressed entirely in crimson. Next to him stood a young woman in her early twenties, wearing a dress that, while nonetheless a very fine fabric, was colored only a plain gray. One of the warriors gestured and Roger calmly stood still as he and she were frisked and scanned.

"I am Roger Phillips, head of arrangements for the evening," he identified himself when they were finished. "This is Dena, former attendant to the old Count of Eiattu. She is here to act as a personal attendant for the evening. Additionally, this is a comm unit with a direct link to my personal frequency. Should anything not be found suitable, it is there to allow my immediate notification."

One of the warriors regarded the small cylinder Roger had handed over. The attendant with a scanner moved as if to check it but the warrior waved him away, apparently satisfied with Roger's truthfulness. He beckoned to Roger and Dena and led them outside.

The grand terrace leading to the doorway, while previously lined with the occasional guard pair, now sported a discretely dressed individual every ten feet. At the end of the terrace a deep black hoverlimo waited patiently; Roger and Dena were led to the large double door in its side where another pair of crimson-garbed individuals stood. The warrior with Roger and Dena gestured; one of his comrades turned and slid the large door open to allow the occupants to step out. Dena curtsied low and held the pose while Roger instantly went to one knee and extended a hand.

The first to emerge was a dark-haired woman wearing a slimming, sleeveless black dress with a double-v neck that left her arms and shoulders completely bare. She wore no flashy jewelry or particularly eye-catching accoutrement. She did not need them. The man at her side and indeed the entire galaxy was her ornament.

The pressure of perfection was on.

"Empress Tarkin," Roger said, kissing the hand she offered into his own. "We are most honored by your attendance this evening. My name is Roger Phillips and as the head of arrangements for tonight I have been sent in advance to welcome you to this celebration in your honor on behalf of our host Jason Russard and the extended Russard family. Mr Russard is currently on his way to greet you personally."

"Dena," here he indicated the woman who continued to hold her curtsy with amazing control, "is here to act as your personal attendant for the duration of the festivities. You have been given a direct line to my personal communicator and should you find anything amiss I will see to its correction personally on Mr Russard's behalf. Is there anything either of us can provide you to enhance your evening at this time?"

[Xavier Synik]

"'Course, we'll have to smoke 'em outside - Roger will have a durf-monkey if I light up here." Outside would also be a good place to escape Lissell's watchful eye, but the Old Man kept that to himself. His nurse was far too concerned about his health for Russard's liking.

A sly smile crossed Xavier's face.

"What type of guest would I be if I refused such a gracious offer?" The tone of his rhetorical question was just sarcastic enough to be playful while not coming across as arrogant.

"Please lead the way." Xavier held his arm out toward the direction he though they would be heading in motioning for the elder Russard that he would follow him through the crowd.

As he did so Xavier hoped that they would not get side tracked by one of the other guests trying to gain the Russard's attention. While it had not been his intention in the least to have anything more then a short conversation with Russard thanking him for the invitation to the gala party, he was not going to turn down the opportunity to enter into further conversation with him.

Following Russard out one of the side doors Xavier found himself on one of the large balconys. The cool, fresh, night air was a pleasant contrast to the air inside. Bringing his eyes around from the fantastic view of Coruscant Xavier noticed Getar. Nodding to the man Xavier turned his attention back to the view for a moment before turning to face Russard.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

“Looking to enter the Judiciary yourself?” he asked

Adelaide had not given the idea much thought. In fact, she had just been getting through each day one by one, glad that she was able to find some reason to do so each morning. Any thought of the future was stunted by the effort of the here and now.

"I suppose Im a part of it by default" she answered. "Guilty by association" she offered with an uncertain smile, a brave attempt at humor.

From behind them came a swell of nervous energy, rolling up to them from across the room and both she and Trix turned as they felt it. The reason was immediately apparent and Trix, helpfully, whispered to Del that the Grand Inquisitor, Valten, had just arrived.

Adelaide shrank into herself a little. She had secrets that would interest the Inquisitoriate and she cast an anxious eye about for Eliessa. Being away from the indomitable Judge's presence, Del felt suddenly very vunerable and uncomfortably exposed.

[Old Man Russard]

"You know V'al Counis do you?"

The Old Man didn't miss much. Synik's polite nod of acknowledgement to Getar, his unspoken "I see you seeing me." Xavier was a smooth one, Russard knew that much right out the gate.

He lit his Saccorian and handed the lighter to the younger man, appreciatively exhaling the aromatic smoke into the night air.

"He's curious about you" the Old Man provided, "We all are" he quantified, following Xavier's gaze out across the grounds. "Guess thats a compliment in and of itself"

Some voices from the room inside reached even to the balcony where the two were standing, floating in from the open doors. The Grand Inquisitor had arrived - his son's good pal. And, some were speculating that the Empress must shortly be here too.

"Are you an Empire man, then Synik?" The question was casual enough, and came with no scrutinizing glance at Xavier. The Old Man was curious as to the calibre of man he was talking to and who he may, in the near future, be dealing with on a business level.

[Miranda Tarkin]

The irony of this entire stunt was that Gallus and Miranda hadn't really planned on attending this event. Since the wedding, the newlyweds have been offered numerous invitations in celebration of their union and her ascension to the Imperial throne. With the Russards, Miranda never actually declined the invitation and she was grateful she hadn't. Sanya's incessant gushing over her newest fling had Gallus rolling his eyes more so then usual at his dear sister. Miranda was still fuming over the fiasco with Belargic and wanted nothing to do with her. But he stood his ground and was far from begging. Big blue eyes pleaded with a playfulness that she had missed seeing from Sorsha.

So how could they not crash the party and have fun with Sanya personally! It could be quite enjoyable to watch her squirm.


* * *


"Dena," here he indicated the woman who continued to hold her curtsy with amazing control, "is here to act as your personal attendant for the duration of the festivities. You have been given a direct line to my personal communicator and should you find anything amiss I will see to its correction personally on Mr Russard's behalf. Is there anything either of us can provide you to enhance your evening at this time?"

Roger Phillips was a man of class, manners and eloquence. He was able to deliver a speech that was probably delivered countless times today, of course with subtle differences depending upon the guest. Yet here he was, speaking as if saying this greeting for the first time tonight. And Dena was simply stunning. Even in her simplistic evening dress, her natural curves were hugged gently by the plain grey color fabric. She wore her hair up by pins and slides that tugged at fond memories of Miranda's former assistant, Amanda Sinclair, who was brutally murdered by the hands of Vega Van-Derveld. She would have to see if she was just as competent as her Amanda. Looks were only looks after all.

As Dena rose in greeting, Miranda already smiling face inched upwards further once their eyes met. "It's good to meet you both and I thank you for assigning Dena to myself and my husband."

The perfected introduction arose and Miranda's slender arm entwined with that of Baron Gallus Tagge, and swung her husband towards their hosts servants. As the Empress wore black, her preferred color, Gallus was softer in tone with his chosen color of a silver suit. Usually his well kept hair was hung loose about his shoulders, but today it was pulled back into a ponytail. He looked positively dashing.

"For now the greetings of our host tonight will be sufficient." She stole a glance at Gallus with one brow raised in question. "Unless you desire something at this time?"

[Travis North]

"Eliessa Corta, of the Order of Solomon" she answered pleasantly. No bells rang for North and the Judge's smile broadened, having anticipated the non-response. "Of the Judiciary Department" she explained. "Im currently investigating the Imperial Inquisitoriate regarding a large number of missing Moffs." It was a decent enough volley, if a little impolite, but Corta wasn't much of a stickler for proprietry. North kept an impassive expression. She continued, "Not that I'd expect you to know anything about all that Commodore, different branch from you entirely isnt it..?" Her smile remained fixed, but her eyes suddenly gleamed quite shrewdly at Travis. "Am I right?"


"Well not entirely different. In some cases Moffs are ranking members of the military chosen to oversee military operations in their given sector. I know a few, in fact now that you mention it I haven't heard back from a good friend, a Moff Kerry, in some time. He may be one of those missing." He paused just a second before deciding to take Eliessa further down the rabbit hole. She seemed the sort to run a lead into the ground and this party wasn't exactly the best place for that to happen. "His sector is plagued with ion storms though so I just assume it's interference. Perhaps I should contact you later on if I don't hear anything. Missing Moffs is a serious matter."

With any luck he'd be able to avoid exposing what he knew while on Imperial Centre and finally set his own plans into motion. This night was off to a good start.

A server passed by with drinks and Travis took two, he handed one to Eliessa flashing a gentleman's smile. "Would you join me for the early evening madam. I'm afraid I don't know many of the people here tonight and would welcome the opportunity to be introduced to those I'm sworn to protect."

[Vince]

"Guilt by association."

Trix grinned and chuckled at the corny, but still amusing turn of phrase. And feeling that same swell of nervous energy from the front of the room, they both turned.

"It... it's the Grand Inquisitor," he murmured in her ear, not quite absorbing the information himself. He felt her shiver a bit beside him, and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he stepped a bit closer to help her feel a bit better. Or, as much support as he could give her for that matter; he hardly knew the woman.

Gently he took her by the elbow and turned her away from the grouping at the front of the room.

"It'll be alright," he murmured. "Even if you by some odd chance do have something of interest to the Inquisitors, well..." he paused, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Well, as long as you're by me they won't suspect a thing, I'm guessing. Never liked them much. Too caught up in the 'you're scared of me and I like that' act."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"I dont have anything to hide" Adelaide answered quickly, but managed to look more by the minute like she did. "Why would you--what makes you say that?" She was speaking quickly, too quickly, she knew. She tried to stop herself from saying anything further but Trix had picked up on on her fears so fast that it was panicking her. "No one wants the attention of the Inquisitoriate" she said defensively, "..Anyone with half a wit to them."

Adelaide allowed Idalix to lead her further away from the Grand Inquisitor and his small group, the large Devaronian drawing most everyone's attention by calling for a game of cards. Del attempted to settle her self down and do some damage control with her present company. She did not want to alienate the first person who, as yet, knew nothing of her past and seemed keen enough to take her at face value.

"I've just heard stories, thats all. Those Inquisitors give me the creeps. Even the uniform he's wearing - reminds me of a spider just waiting for someone to come along that he can gobble up."

[Eliessa Corta]

Corta gave North a measuring look before she answered. He had hinted quite boldly at where his sympathies lay in regards to her current investigation and the offer of collaboration was not something to take lightly. What a surprising opportunity. She had thought perhaps of gaining certain advantage from an amicable relationship with the Commodore, part of her purpose in seeking him out tonight. His access to sensitive Naval information that might shed light on the missing Moff's would be quite a boon, should he be so obliging. But would he be so willing? And, even more importantly...why would he be so willing? Eliessa determined not to look a gifthorse in the mouth and seize whatever North may offer. Afterall, Atrapes had proven a closed door, slammed and locked quite rudely for that matter, and any cooperation would be welcome regardless of the motive.


"We shall help each other then" she said, accepting the offered glass. "I believe Moff Kerry is among the missing, but that conversation is for another place and time." Corta had noted the Grand Inquisitor's arrival -- another surprise. She had not expected he would come. Inwardly, she wondered if her chat with Inquisitor Atrapes had made it even as far as a discarded memo laying about collecting dust on Inquisitor Valten's desk.

"Tonight, I am more than happy to introduce you around. Is there anyone in particular we should start with?"

[Rekoj]

"That accent of yours Sasseeri. Entirely too sexy." Rekoj mused with sly smile that deepened the dimples in his cheeks. The Inquisitor may have been speaking to the Vigo hanging lightly off his arm but his eyes and ears were focused on the circus parading about him. Not that any of the other guests could hear it but the carnival music had already begun to play in his mind.

The Inquisitor unhooked his arm from Sasseeri's and with a flick of style shot out his cuffs making sure they looked proper. His hands then fell from his simple black suit to the dark red silk of his shirt collar, unbuttoning it. Much better, he thought to himself, as he pulled off his black tie and hung it from a nearby plant. Like a Thulian moth twisting free from it's cocoon Rekoj stretched wide reveling in his newly unveiled form. Upon bringing his hands down, his right gained momentum, ending in a firm slap against Sasseeri's behind. The act of which was audible enough to draw the shocked attentions of several guests.

"Try to behave yourself." He gave a squeeze, "Madam." His eyes rolling back with an obnoxious grunt of satisfaction as he savored the flesh in his grasp. Then with the beat of some unheard music he began to swagger toward the gathering, or more particularly, a server with a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. Some sort of fruit ball dipped in a red sauce. Rekoj inspected the morsel through pinched fingers before tossing it into his mouth. They weren't bad, he thought approvingly, quickly snapping up several more into his palm before the waiter could escape the disgusting sound of the Inquisitors loud open mouth chewing.

Some commotion near the entrance had drawn the nibbling Inquisitors attention. Not that it distracted him from using his palm to force several more of the snacks into his already full maw.

“To our most gracious hosts and their splendid hospitality!” Ah, Valten was making his entrance. The sweet taste of the appetizer had somehow abruptly turned sour in Rekoj's mouth.

"Veritas Vincit." Rekoj let the words drip from his lips like bile. A quick hand snagged a nearby waitress. Another was used to pry her hand open in which he spat the chewed remnants of the sweets. He then closed her hand over the chewed sludge, turned her around, and gave a shove sending her away.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was workin' on his second cigar when Phillips suddenly showed up 'gain.

"Rog where th'frack is Russ-"

"Mr Kazaar," A voice soundin' like some kinda whoopin' bird suddenly kicked up. "How do you do?"

Th'frack? A middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair, tryin' t'fit into o'dress that sure as hell didn't fit 'er right, dashed up t'im.

"I'm Moff Kindel's wife. You know, the one who looks over the Sluis Van Shipyards. What is it you do? Did you ever think you'd be invited to a party such as this? We don't have those kinds of parties on Sluis Van, my husband thinks they're boring but I love them so much. Did you know he was told after he was done in the Sluis Sector we could be given a larger sector, closer Imperial Center. Even more chance to go to parties such as this. How did you get invited to this party anyway? I guess it doesn't matter, the fact we're all here is. Do you like the Empire? I think it's wonderful. The fact there are so many aliens just drives me--"

"Look lady." Kazaar's finger rose up inna warning gesture. "I ain't th'kinda guy t'stand 'round here like a rock-vulture, wonderin' what th'frack I'm gonna do an' askin' everyone else what th'frack they wanna do. Ya wanna talk 'bout stuff, that's just damn frackin' fine with me. But if you're gonna ramble on'n frackin' on, 'least go find some kinda dunderhead who'll listen to ya. 'Cause I sure as hell ain't going to."

"Well..." Th'crazy dame looked like no one'd even talked t'er like that. She stormed out a moment later, th'look on 'er face priceless.

Kazaar smirked'n turned back t'is cigar. Just as th'Old Man an' some other guy walked out. Kazaar gave 'em a nod in greetin' but didn't interupt 'em. Frackin' Rog, where th'frack was th'younger Russard.

[Getar V'al Counis]

He was about to close the distance between himself and old Jake and that Synik fellow when he became aware of someone else sharing the balcony.

Fascinated, Getar witnessed the way the fellow - unkempt kind of guy, odd suit - took care of Kindel's harpy of a wife. Took some guts, that. So, distracted from his erstwhile goal, he changed his direction and approached the man while fishing for a cigar himself. Always the easiest way of meeting someone, this.

"Have a light?" he said to the man, as he stepped up to him. And then, before the other could answer, he added. "Admirable feat, that. Harpy, that woman is. No idea what Kindel was thinking, marrying her."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Th'fact th'guy was willin' t'pause so Kazaar could answer was a frackin' blessin'. Th'former bounty hunter fished out 'is black butane lighter'n handed it t'Getar. "You're frackin' asking me, pal. Dames...frackin' trouble if ya ask me."

He smirked. "'Course, ya can't live with 'em and sure as hell can't live without 'em."

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Well said, my dear fellow." And Getar, who had lived with his dame for over forty years now and never had any problem doing so, gave a low chuckle as he bent forward to light the end of his cigar on that nice piece of old-fashioned lighter.

This fellow was good entertainment.

"They can be troublesome. Haven't a notion what I would do with a wife like that."

Then he remembered something, and gave a good-natured sigh. "Not that I would always know what to do with the one I have, either."

And, before the opportunity could take evasive action, he asked: "You got one?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar's eyes flashed a bit. "That business o'yas?" Then he remembered he was at a frackin' party'n had to, as th'Kid put it, "Be nice."

He then gave o'shrug as if t'say he was 'sorry' without havin' t'actually say it. "Used t'have one. Split up o'while back. Prob'ly best f'both o'us." Kazaar took o'few puffs from his cigar. He frackin' hated parties. 'Specially when he couldn't get drunk at 'em.

"Ain't th'kinda think I like talkin' 'bout. Dames...frackin' crazy."

[Xavier Synik]

"Are you an Empire man, then Synik?" The question was casual enough, and came with no scrutinizing glance at Xavier. The Old Man was curious as to the calibre of man he was talking to and who he may, in the near future, be dealing with on a business level.

Xavier took his Saccorian and put it to his lips before following it with the lighter.

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips from Russard's question as he puffed on the cigar lighting the tip.

"Only Empire I am concerned about is my own." He smiled and took a long drag on the cigar before letting the smoke out of his mouth slowly, and then chuckled slightly.

"I kid...well mostly. Mr. Russard, I could give you a line of bull, but that would be a waste of both our time and an insult to your intelligence. So I'll give it to you straight." He paused again for another drag, he could see out of the corner of his eye that Getar had moved on over to where Kazaar was standing.

"The Empire is something I respect, but it is far down my priority list. My concern is my company and continuing it's growth. Don't get me wrong. If the Empire showed up on my doorstep I'll do business with them, might even give them a discount." Xavier smirked. "But if your asking if I'm one of those businessmen who spend more time here on Coruscant trying to curry favour with the polititians betting their company's entire existance on whether or not they get a piece of the pie rather then actually spending time to make sure their pilots have cargo to haul, then no I'm not."

Again another pause for another drag of the cigar. It was the truth for the most part. Everything except the part about giving the Empire a discount. In reality Xavier was more likely to charge them twice as much and have the cargo encounter an accident during transit so he could claim that part of the shipment had been destroyed, thus allowing him to make sure it got into the hands of those who could make better use of it.

[Vince]

Trix smiled, letting her calm down before speaking.

"Everyone has something to hide," he said, and suddenly his smile didn't seem so carefree. "I didn't mean to imply that you had something in particular to hide, but just in case. I've heard that sometimes people who never would have thought that they knew something important provided the information necessary for great victories or brilliant strategies."

"I've just heard stories, thats all. Those Inquisitors give me the creeps. Even the uniform he's wearing - reminds me of a spider just waiting for someone to come along that he can gobble up."

Trix lost the smile and replaced it with a grin, much more light than the previous expression.

"You know, I can see that," he replied, "And it only makes me want to never meet him even more."

They were almost clear across the room from the newest additions from the party, and the oppressive air the Inquisitors brought with them wasn't nearly so choking.

"Feeling better now?" he asked.

[Jason Russard]

Jason looked about for his daughter, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket as he did so. He had hoped to speak with Karl Valten but the Grand Inquisitors arrival had timed poorly with his own ability to get over to speak to him. There would be time later, he decided. Ah, there Estelle was with that splendid Mili girl and Cristobal -- chatting with some Imperial fellow who was quite, quite tall. A moment to catch her eye -- there it is -- and Jason inclined his head as if in signal, to which Estelle immediately responded. Politely extricating herself from her conversation the youngest Russard came over to join her father.

"She's here then?" came his daughter's query.

"Just arriving now" Jason confirmed, smoothing his jackets' buttons a little nervously.

"You look great, Daddy" she assured him.

Jason offered Estelle his arm, which she in turn took, and the pair of them moved over to the entry hall in order to welcome Her Imperial Empress, Miranda Tarkin. He was so proud of his daughter, of his family and tonight he was proud of Coruscant coming out as they had in all their finery to greet the Empress. Well, not everyone was fine, Jason had to acknowledge as they passed a small distance from Rekoj. "Who is that vulgar fellow?" he asked Estelle, who simply shrugged. She had no idea. "I'll ask Roger afterwards..." Jason murmured absently and then, as if on cue, the Imperial guard stomped their left foot collectively and, in unison, stood ramrod straight as a breathtaking creature stepped forward into their view. Empress Tarkin. Jason found his mouth had gone completely dry and he had to resist the urge to moisten his lips with his tongue. She was exquisite and completely monopolized one's attention, so much so that it was Estelle's gentle nudging of a discreet finger on his hand that her father at length moved his gaze from Miranda to also take in the Royal Consort, Gallus Tagge. He remembered the appropriate protocol and with a half-bow he welcomed them to the Estate.

"Empress Tarkin, Baron Tagge" he acknowledged each in turn, "it is our honor to welcome you this evening. I am Jason Russard and may I introduce my daughter, Estelle. We are very glad that you could come. Please accept our congratulations on your ascension and hope you will know that we are all here tonight to wish you great success!"




Dena stepped forward to gently guide the small group, suggesting they all move inside. Roger, who was discreetly moving in the background was ready should anybody need him, even though they knew him to be three steps ahead of everyone in anticipating any such thing.

Jason and Estelle fell to either side of the Royal Couple and let them pass in ahead of them, a few members of the Imperial guard moving ahead also in an obvious show of protection and stern watchfulness, ushered the entire group in.

[Salem Ave]

In comparison to his previous partner in conversation, Miss Shadowstar was surprisingly frank. Though the Empire was biased against so-called alien species, in such polite company the matter would be danced around as carefully as could be – providing the alien in question remained at least human in appearance. Studying his new companion for a moment, Salem wondered which near-human race she belonged to. There was a slightly pinkish blush to her flesh, but that could have simply been on account of nerves or the free-flowing wine.

“Yes, I am quite grateful that the Russard's should think to take an interest in myself and Onderon...”

She was venturing towards something, something that she had deemed inappropriate to come right out and discuss. What that was would have to wait, however, as a sudden flurry of activity had claimed almost all attention. Singularly outfitted guards had appeared seemingly from nowhere, their arrival as clear a sign as any that the party's guest of honour was now in attendance: the Empress herself.

“If you will excuse me, Miss Shadowstar...”

With a casual smile, he began a slow stride away from his all-too-brief companion, aiming to set himself in the path of the royal entourage.

[Emelie Shadowstar]

It was going to be a rough conversation, that had been determined right off and then she caught on to the fact the atmosphere in the room had changed, as if everyone suddenly became a touch more nervous, a glance over her shoulder following Ave's excusing of himself revealed the reasons all too clearly and even more understandably.

Her mind was torn in various ways: An overly juvenile female jealous streak being slightly miffed at the sudden change, the more reasonable voice knowing that naturally the Empress was far more important and entertaining of an individual and of course everyone would be vying for her attention and rightfully so, and then the last...that was quite content with the fact she didn't have to try and produce anymore fake polite (for her) talk. Emelie finally settled to allow a combination of the last two concepts to take full fruition and so the polite smile was kept on her lips as she watched the man from Onderon walk away.

With the crowd's attention turning towards Empress Tarkin, she took the opportunity to slip towards the balcony where she had caught sight of her partner, snagging a glass of what was no doubt an expensive whiskey on her way out. Glass in hand she took pause seeing Xavier speaking with the elder Russard...a conversation she wasn't quite willing to interrupt. And so she found herself a spot on the balcony closer to two other men but at a safe enough distance to not intrude upon them either. Another moment was taken to twist a strand of her hair around a fingertip, thanking herself the brunette color was going to be only temporary once more.

A small shake of her head was given as she watched as the others still in the main hall began to plot how to curry the favor of the Empress. The glass of whiskey was brought up to her lips...and entirely finished quite quickly. Emelie didn't mind fancy social events like this but she was quickly wishing she was at a different type of party entirely...one where she could grab a few more glasses and no one would think anything of it. She was off her game, one where all the odds and rules had just been changed by the arrival of the Empress and her husband, and it wasn't quite sitting well with her and sadly now all her efforts would have to be put at making that not apparent rather than strike up any new deals.

[Zai]

The attention had shifted. Good. Zai didn't want the attention on him, near him, or around him, in any way. Explanation was one of the kids strong points. Problem was, he wasn't having a strong night. First it took a while to get through the door. His outfit was right, his hair wasn't. Still, he managed. Especially since it wasn't good form to cause trouble with an Admiral.

Gutsy, really - acting as Admiral. Zai hadn't done it before. Normally he went under-cover on the lower totem pole, but that wouldn't work. This was a classy event - royal type. The only way in was the front door, no side entrance. So, he had to be a spectacle. All the assortments were adorn. Deck in his white, sleek outfit, and blessed with the authentic medals he stood stout and ready as if his fleet was behind him.

The only fault he had in his design was habit. Rarely did he slip, but the keen eye might have caught him sticking his hands in his pockets. Cool, collective, he didn't betray an Admiral's nature, but did put into question the typical uniform behavior. Someone so highly classed in the Imperial traditions, and Navy wouldn't let anything casual be found in their demeanor. They always walked around with a caribarator stuck in their load. That was their way, and hopefully no one noticed him swaying a bit off track.

So far, he was good. A few talks here, chit-chat there, and he was coasting. All he had to do was keep his ears prick. Any info on the whereabouts of these supposed "hoskey Jedi" zealots could put this down as a success. Matter fact, any progression would leave this risky move as a success. The time had come to go out on a limb. Nothing had been happening since his last operation, and Zai had to be drastic.

That was the only way anything would get done.

"Blumfruit please," he said, barely lifting his hand from his side. The help was off with the tray, walking about, handing out delicacies. Good stuff - he wouldn't mind taking a bite himself. Especially since it was on the house. As long as it wasn't on him, it would taste great...

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had been intruiged by Lykaios - there was something untenable about him and she would have liked the chance to explore just what that might be, but there'd been no time. The introductions had barely been accomplished when she'd seen her father silently requesting her company. The big moment had come - one she had personally doubted would arrive. Estelle had not really expected the Empress to show. Perhaps half the people here had not expected it either.

Excusing herself from her company, Estelle left the Imperial with Mili and Cristobal. Mili, better than anyone else, would be able to get a bead on that particular Inquisitor and Estelle was curious to know what she'd make of him.

The Empress and her husband had now stepped into the main room - Estelle could tell by the immediate shift in the volume of conversation and even in the change of static in the air around them. Faces turned in their direction - a kaleidascope of curious expressions, though, from her vantage point behind the Royal pair, Russard was hard pressed to see them all without the bobbing her head round shoulders and arms. What an unusual scenario, she considered inwardly. For her part, she knew of 4 rebel spies in their midst and of atleast the same number of Imperial Inquisitors, and all were rubbing shoulders in blissful ignorance the ones of the others. She prayed it would stay that way. And there should be no reason why it shouldn't. Everyone here had been screened carefully as to who they were and their admittance here. It was, after all, the well being of the Empress and, thus, the Empire that was at stake. Not to mention the Russard reputation which not one of the three Russards here would allow to be sullied.

She wondered where her Grandfather was. All this held no real excitement for him, she knew. His love for the Empire had waned over the years though she could not say with any certainty that his loyalties had changed. It was more that the Old Man was hard to impress, no matter who or what it was.

Tarkin was beautiful and she shimmered in the lights who's glow seemed drawn toward her. Gallus Tagge was a very fine looking man and side by side, it was easy to see why they were thought of as the golden couple. Estelle wasn't quite sure how she felt about it all. She had no animosity to the pair standing just inches infront of her, but by all measures and intents she was their devoted enemy and was actively doing all within her ability to break the Imperial hold their new positions would be reinforcing within the Galaxy.

She peeked about for Santiago and found him looking right at her with that half-smile she was growing so fond of. Mili, who's face was unreadable, had just turned her attention from Lykaios to the entering party. Estelle couldn't see Kazaar anywhere, which was probably for the best - he'd likely be frowning thunderclouds at the Imperial group and start the battle of Hoth all over again.

People began to move closer and one by one they would eventually begin to introduce themselves. Estelle whispered to her father standing beside her, "You did good. You sounded very propper"
Jason smiled - another smile Estelle was dearly fond of.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

They were almost clear across the room from the newest additions from the party, and the oppressive air the Inquisitors brought with them wasn't nearly so choking.

"Feeling better now?" he asked.

She had to admit, Trix was very good at putting a person at ease and the alarm that had suddenly swept over her had disolved, but Del knew it would probably not stay that way. She had not expected to be so easily overwhelmed by things. She had never been this way, had always been quite a strong girl with a clear head for all situations, but life was much darker and dangerous than it had ever used to be...even during the time with Kazaar and the nefarious company he had kept with Hutts and bounty hunters, Adelaide had not felt so unanchored within herself like she did now. What she had done to Crei had shattered something solid and centering inside her.

She had the support of Eliessa, and the Russards, all of whom had been a lifeline to her since the death of Bren. The problem was not outward, but lay in who she now was, and the things she had done. Del was in the process of coming to terms with it all and only time and self-determination could restore what had been taken from her, or more correctly, what she'd given up.

"Yes, feeling much better thanks" she said, trying to mean it.

First seeing Aurelias in that suit, then the fright from Trix being so intuitive..Adelaide braced herself for the next unexpected item that would rattle her frail self-control and hoped that she'd survive the night without a complete personal meltdown. She really began to doubt her sanity in coming to this event at all.

From where they stood, Trix and Del were among the last to realize the Empress had arrived, being a far distance across the room. Adelaide joined in with the curious craning of the necks but was content not to move any closer.

"Have you met the Empress before?" she asked Trix, "Before, you know, when she was a Moff?"

[Old Man Russard]

The smoke from the Old Man's cigar coiled lazily upwards, knarled fingers that held it resting unmoving on the balcony rail. Jason the Elder kept his eyes lanquidly on the gardenscape, his expression relaxed, but his keen ears and shrewd mind were focused sharply on Xavier's words.

Synik had not doce-doed around with flatteries or self-depracating remarks and that aspect alone had won him the Old Man's appreciation. Only ponces did that and those who wanted something from you - hundreds of these such conversations had taught Jason that small truth.

Xavier had been as honest as the Old Man could expect from someone who was savy enough not to cut his own throat by decaring one particular loyalty over another, but who left no doubt that if one were to deal with Silenus Corp, one would be dealing with a company dedicated to success and raising their own profit without pandering to every prevailing wind that may come along. In other words - Xavier was his own man, too damn bad if you didn't like it.

The answer appeared to satisfy the Old Man as his slowly nodding head implied. There was some sort of hubbub coming behind them from the ballroom, but Jason showed no sign that he noticed preferring to pursue his current conversation.

"You folks do much in exploration of new materials or technologies out in the Outer rim territories, do you?"

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Ain't th'kinda think I like talkin' 'bout. Dames...frackin' crazy."

Getar answered that with another chuckle.

After contentedly taking a few puffs of his cigar, he ventured forth into the muddy business of party small talk that his wife always claimed was important he do.

"V'al Counis' the name. Yours?"

[Caran V'al Counis]

Great, just great.

Caran, upon noticing Cora noticing him and her immediate making for his position, quickly turned back to Aree and began noting more of the event's attendees to her. He placed his right hand gently on her back and almost nonchalantly continued to point out some of the more notable patrons.

"...that man there is Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten..." He mentioned, going on to point out the small number of other members of the Inquisitoriate present before noting the Empress' presence himself. A mixed expression showed on his face at her noted arrival and the hubbub that came along with it. He never knew what really to think of the former Moff, but he felt a few things on the subject of her personal life weren't quite what they seemed. Then again, that wasn't quite uncommon in any social circle. "...and ah, the Empress Miranda Tarkin. You know..."

And off he went, talking through various items, keeping an oblivious shoulder turned to his mother, who was surely waiting with mounting impatience. She could sod off for all he cared. He wanted to have an enjoyable, memorable evening, for once.

[Vince]

Trix smiled, feeling more than knowing she was for the moment calm.

"Why..." he paused, letting a bit of exaggerated suspense into the conversation, and then cut it off. "...No. I've never seen the woman until her earlier coronation ceremony, and then the wedding."

Trix paused there, shaking his head. "I don't know whether to be awed or disgusted at the amount of credits that must have been spent on that wedding. Every girl who saw it now has dreams of marrying like the Empress, and the sad sods that end up marrying these girls will only disappoint them, leading to marital strife and broken dreams."

He grinned throughout the 'diatribe', though his inflection was pretty close to annoyed. He was also trying to catch a glance of the Empress from the safe distance that Adelaide and he were standing. Getting any closer to the Empress would mean getting closer to the Inquisitors, and while he managed to control himself to the point of getting shivers and the pressing urge to flee, he didn't wish to see Adelaide so frightened again.

"I almost got to meet her while shooting a holovid once. I think it was Dust on Ameril, but I'm not sure. I didn't get to, being a nobody as I was then. Now that I'm somebody, I still think the chances of me meeting her are quite slim."

His eyes passed to the side, and caught sight of the figure of Commodore North.

"There's my potential new commander," he said with a grin and a discreet gesture of his chin. "Commodore North, he's called. Really good fellow, or so I hear. Would you mind accompanying me while I take care of a bit of business?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"V'al Counis' the name. Yours?"

"Kazaar." 'Nother smirk'n Getar was starting t'wonder if that was th'only expression Kazaar knew. "Ya run that V'al Counis Corp right? Guy (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/member.php?u=2997) I know's o'big fan o'yas refreshers. Says they do 'wonders for his skin and hair'." Kazaar voice slipped into a pretty good impersonation o'Spenny. Not that V'al Counis'd know.

"Ain't used 'em, but I know what ya put out. How'd ya hook up wit' Jake?"

[Aree Ankarta]

If someone had told her she was going to be at a high society party as an invited guest one day, she would probably have given them a good rap over the head and told them to improve on their humour. The mere idea of it was preposterous. She was at home on battlefields, in deep space behind the controls of her starship, in stake-outs, in fights to the teeth... but not on a ballroom floor, in midst a crowd of soft meat.

So why was it she was here again?!? Oh yeah - Caran hadn't bothered to tell her where he was taking her. That di'kut hadn't had the decency even to warn her. And she was supposed to "act her role"?!? What role was that, shabuir?

But she had no chance to ask him. She had no chance for anything other than gritting her teeth and disguising it with a frosty smile.

If there was any consolation for her, it was in the fact that subconsciously she could feel she wasn't the only one disliking this place. She wasn't putting any effort into it, but her connection to her other sense was giving her an idea that there were at least a few others here who didn't enjoy this. Maybe she should open herself up to it and find ou ----

"... Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten..."

---- wait - WHAT?!?

If she hadn't worn the make-up that Caran had pressed on her, he would have noticed her face losing color. It took all of her willpower and strength to remain standing there, and later she prided herself on her ability to act "her role" but right then her heart was drumming in her chest so madly that she thought the inquisitor on the other side of the hall could surely hear it like the ticking of a giant clock.

Oh shab, shab.... and she'd almost used it! Right under their very noses!

Think, think.... was there anything she'd done to give her away other than that? No... certainly not.... but... could they sense her anyway, now that she was so close? She'd always been lucky enough - or skilled, or both - to keep her Force signature dampened so that Inquisitors had no chance at picking her up, but would it work just as well in such proximity?

She could feel the tiny beads of sweat collect on her clammy palms, and resisted the urge to try to stick them into pockets that were non-existent on this dress, anyway.

Must not behave unusual now. Must keep calm.

Then she turned her head slightly, to steal a furtive glance behind her to see if there were more Inquisitors, maybe. And found herself eye-to-eye with another pair of eyes.

There was a woman. Right behind her. Too close behind her.

This time she couldn't help herself: she twitched, violently, and tried to take a few steps away.

"Caran!?" she yelped, and grabbed his arm her sudden flight encountered opposition from the grip he had on her.

Shab - she wanted out!

[Sarah Lymia]

Annoyance? Aggravation? Hate? Ah what is the word she was looking for? Hmmm……ah yes…..there it was…contempt, most definitely contempt at the moment. Most accurate word that Inquisitor Sarah Lymia could come up with to describe her current disposition to her boss. Yeah, contempt sounded good.
<o></o>
In the last month she’d been yanked from her rightful place on Eriadu for some ‘classified’ dealings on Coruscant. Sounded good at first, maybe a decent scrap to get involved in, but no, nothing of the sort. Instead she got roped into the political shit with this whole new Empress thing. It was good and all that someone was actually sitting on the throne, but damn was this a waste of her time.
<o></o>
And now here she was a stuck at some supposed ‘high class’ party, whatever that meant, that she had no urge to be at. And worst of all she was dressed up like a karking doll, it was a damn nice dress, but this was definitely not her thing.
<o></o>
And dear gods would these people not shut up or at least talk about something she cared about. Sarah managed to extract herself from two who-cared-what-company-they-owned pretty boys hitting on her with a dazzling smile.
<o></o>
Where the hell…oh there he is……and managed to find Valten wading his way through the sheep seeking an audience with their ‘gracious’ host.

"I think I’m going to kill myself…or you….Sir. Haven’t decided which.”
<o></o>
The Grand Inquisitor acknowledged her telepathic moping with the barest shake of his head and twitch of a smirk. Sarah didn’t have any fear of retribution, she was too important in his operation to be expendable, and she’d be damned if she didn’t use her tenure to harass him about forcing her here.
<o></o>
For the love of……oh great the Empress was here too? Damn, she needed a drink and someone else she could bitch with. Inquisitor Lymia moved towards the back of the chambers, declining yet another potential dance partner with a sugar-sweet “maybe later”. And plainly bumped into some girl who looked at her with a terrified look who promptly scampered away with her tail between her legs.
<o></o>
Ugh, civilians and their superstitions. Kind of cute and disgusting at the same time.

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Ya run that V'al Counis Corp right? Guy (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/member.php?u=2997) I know's o'big fan o'yas refreshers. Says they do 'wonders for his skin and hair'. Ain't used 'em, but I know what ya put out. How'd ya hook up wit' Jake?"

Kazaar. Hmmm... never heard of that name before. Had to be from off-planet.

Raising his cigar to his lips for another puff, he waved the compliment off with his free hand. "Claptrap, that's just a sideline. 'Rather lucrative sideline, but sideline nevertheless."

He took a puff from the cigar, held the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds, then exhaled, savouring the taste.

"Jake...." he hesitated with his answer, but was too polite to show his surprise that this man was on first names with old Russard, "... is an old friend. We used to be the terror of the merchant's guild back in the days."

Ahh the days.....

"What's your business, Mister Kazaar?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Just o'guy tryin' t'survive." He gave a small smirk and took a puff from 'is own cigar. "I watch over Jake's granddaughter. Make sure she ain't gettin' into trouble."

'Nother smirk. "Beats chasin' scum all over th'frackin' galaxy tryin' t'collect bounties. Though that's pretty frackin' fun too."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"There's my potential new commander," he said with a grin and a discreet gesture of his chin. "Commodore North, he's called. Really good fellow, or so I hear. Would you mind accompanying me while I take care of a bit of business?"


Adelaide saw that North was in conversation with Eliessa. Whether it was imprudent to interupt them or not was out of her hands, Trix was already closing the distance between them and North had turned slightly at their approach.

Adelaide gave the slightest of shrugs to Corta, a gesture to indicate the intrusion was not her idea.

[Xavier Synik]

"You folks do much in exploration of new materials or technologies out in the Outer rim territories, do you?"

Xavier had come to the gala half expecting to answer a lot of questions about himself and the corporation. He just hadn't really been expecting to be answering them directly to the elder Russard.

"We don't have much of a research and development staff. Built a big enough lab into our main facility, but as I'm sure you can imagine, it's not easy to recruit top minds to come out to the middle of nowhere. Especially when there really isn't any facilities for families."

Xavier took a moment to savour the cigar again.

"We're working on a couple things. Guess the biggest thing we've got that nobody else does is our shipment tracking software. I had it custom designed specifically to my specifications."

"So product could disappear without leaving a paper trail." Xavier didn't add.

"I've thought about setting up a larger lab for the company on some planet, but decided that a partnership is the more logical option. I'd rather let someone else use my money and their manpower to come up with something of interest for me."

It was an innocent comment, not meant to illicit any sort of offer from the elder Russard, as that was not his intent, but rather then try and backtrack and explain that he was not looking for anything, Xavier decided to leave it hanging. He was interested to see if Russard would say anything, nor did it bother him if the respected businessman completely side-stepped the comment, Xavier was quite happy letting Russard control the conversation.

As far as he was concerned he was getting the opportunity that many inside the party would give their right arm for, and if all that came from it was the ability to say that he had met and spoken with the elder Russard that would be fine for him. Besides, without knowing where Russard's allegiances lied it could be dangerous to get too deep into business with Russard.

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Bountyhunter, eh?"

It earned Kazaar a severely raised eyebrow.

"Odd coincidence. My son's working with one; woman, even. Odd little thing - swears like a pirate in a language I've never heard before and always wearing armour. Very pretty, of course."

Privately he'd wondered about Caran's decision to employ that one, since in his line of work there was no need for one such as her, but it was Caran's choice. Apparently, she had other skills, too, if he could use her as an assistant.

He had to admit he was a tad curious. Maybe this man - this former bountyhunter - could prove useful past polite small talk.

"The name's Aree Ankarta. Ever heard of her?"

[Sanya Tagge]

If the Moff advances had done anything to upset Sanya, he had nothing on the feelings that Gallus and Miranda's arrival inspired. Everyone was staring at the Empress, fawning over every detail of her outfit, lavishing on her honey-sweet compliments about how she and her husband looked practically radiant. For an instant, the Minister caught her brothers eye and Gallus barely registered her presence, his expression not shifting from that painted-on smile he was giving everyone else.

With a hiss, Sanya tore herself away from Yeart Quenn, just in time to see that Cael Bathala was returning with pair of glasses. Lips tightly puckered, she snatched a champagne-flute from his grasp and fought the urge to down it all in one, as she latched onto her escort's arm with the same fervor as a mynock glued to a starships hull. Bathala looked down at her, and then glanced up around the room, as if in search of some assistance – but no one seemed to have noticed that Sanya Tagge was on the verge of some tirade.

“I need some air, Cael. Take me outside, now.”

[Old Man Russard]

"The problem we're having..." Russard leaned on the railing, discreetly putting his back to where Getar and Kazaar were talking - no need for old man V'al Counis to hear this, good friend as he was he was still a competitor - "..is that to be the best, or continue to be the best, a company needs to be the ones that come up with the next 'new' thing"

Synik looked politely interested. "Russard Industries provide the Exo-suites the Imperials use in their guerilla operations, you may know this." The Old Man went on, not waiting confirmation whether Synik knew it or not -- it was a well known fact throughout the Empire and if Synik was on his game (which Russard knew him to be) he would know all this already. "Its a lucritive contract, but there is always room for improvement." He puffed the sacorrian and Xavier waited. Russard had not ignored the opening the younger man had left hanging between them. To the contrary, Jason the Elder was already skipping ahead to the possibilities an agreement between RI and Silenus could bring, but to jump on the unspoken offer like a raw-hide was just vulgar. Her tried to come around to it in a relaxed fashion.

"The suits are brilliant, they mimic human skin - they regulate temperature; are non-absorbant ie they dry quickly should they get wet as skin does; they even self-repair forming a sort of scar tissue to mend any tear or rift in the material....all this much faster and more efficiently than does human skin. However, the difficulty we have is that once the suit is damaged the temp regulator is not nearly as effective. You can imagine how the climate on some planets - Hoth for example - damage in this manner could be a death sentence to the soldier." Russard keened a little closer to Xavier, "There are certain species found in nature that are far superior to us in this capability of temperature regulation, and this is what our Company wishes to explore. Our base of operations is in Coruscant, but should we be able to satelite a small scientific expedition say....near where you lads are...it could be a profitable partnership on many levels."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

"Veritas Vincit." Rekoj let the words drip from his lips like bile. A quick hand snagged a nearby waitress. Another was used to pry her hand open in which he spat the chewed remnants of the sweets. He then closed her hand over the chewed sludge, turned her around, and gave a shove sending her away.

Sasseeri frowned at his antics, and murmured, "Trrry to behave yourrrself, Rrrekoj."

He had released his hold on her arm and her posterior, and the CEO of Reeouurra Consolidated took a moment to take in the room. Her entrance had coincided nicely with that of the Empress and the current Grand Inquisitor, Valten, not that they'd arrived together. She snagged a flute of champagne, sipping it politely while she looked for someone to talk to.

Valten, perhaps? Wouldn't Tear just implode at that sight. A smile traced her lips, but Sasseeri figured that she'd probably spend the evening trying to keep the uncouth Rekoj under control. She took his arm again, pulling firmly on it towards the dance floor. "A dance, perrrhaps?"

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he leered at her, a sentiment she could identify with. Perhaps she wouldn't have her way with this hyuu-mann.

[Lykaios]

Lykaios not wearing the Inquisitors official regalia worked to perfection.
<o></o>
As the arriving party of Imperials made their triumphant entrance, all eyes, even if only for only a moment, were off the seven footer and on the Grand Inquisitor and the Empress.

That split second was all Lykaios needed to make note of the different reactions of most everyone in attendance. Envy, anger, fear, contempt, anxiety, expectation, excitement…every emotion and their source was felt by The Wolf, who had heightened his senses with the aid of the Force.
<o></o>
And just as quick as they had surfaced, almost all sentiments were tucked away by their emitters, only a quiet echo of emotions remained reverberating briefly though the room. A brief mental note and suddenly those guests who seemed uninteresting and unimportant had rapidly peaked the Inquisitor’s curiosity.
<o></o>
Locking his thoughts deep within his mind, his half smiled still in place, Lykaios noticed The Minister of Truth swiftly taking a leave of absence from the room. It seemed she made no effort to hide her feelings towards the newly arrived Imperials.
<o>
</o>Patience was key and he wouldn’t make his move until all the pieces were in place.
<o></o>
“Talk about making an entrance.” Said he as he turned his attention back to Mili and Cristobal.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"The name's Aree Ankarta. Ever heard of her?"

Kazaar shook 'is head. "Hear th'name, but never met th'dame. If she dresses up like a frackin' overdone tin can, she'd prob'ly o'Mandy."

He shrugged, th'name still gnawin' at 'im a bit. Where th'frack had he heard that phrase? "'Least most Mandys I've run into've always liked dressin' up like that. Frackin' overdone if ya ask me. If ya wanna be o'good hunter, I mean a Force-damned good one, ya gotta be willin' t'get ya mitts dirty.

"Least that's what I always thought."

[Miranda Tarkin]

"Empress Tarkin, Baron Tagge" he acknowledged each in turn, "it is our honor to welcome you this evening. I am Jason Russard and may I introduce my daughter, Estelle. We are very glad that you could come. Please accept our congratulations on your ascension and hope you will know that we are all here tonight to wish you great success!"

"Thank you Mr. Russard. You've honored me with such festivities and I'm elated to be here." Miranda leaned her head sideways towards her husband and spoke to him in a very hushed tone. "And I sincerely doubt the last part about wishing me great success ..."

Sanya in particular, was her thought as they stepped inside and instantly the mood of the party shifted to every conceivable emotion from awe to disdain. Almost on cue her dear Sister in law left in a huff but Miranda pursed her lips and didn't give the tiniest inclination of caring.

A waiter lowered his head in respect and offered his tray of champagne to the Royal couple, to which Miranda gladly partook of. She sipped it slowly, not really admiring the taste, though pretended quite nicely that the bubbly alcohol had caught her interest instead of taking in the entire crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Inquisitors, investors, celebrities, dignitaries ... and all eyes were upon her.

Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Sasseeri Reeouurra, and not because of the bitter rivalry that the Cizerack half-breed had with Sorsha. It merely conjured up mixed feelings towards her wife that the Empress wanted no part of. But then there was Rekoj. That slippery snake was someone she might consider thanking for he was the one that was instrumental in having her be introduce to Tear.

Oh it was not ideal circumstances. The bastard had poisoned her at her own wedding! But the Inquisitor had awakened a sinister power within Miranda that she could no longer deny ...

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Tarruurri stepped up beside Grand Inquisitor Valten, "Ssshe'sss sssmaller jin person, the holovjid putsss on atleassst ten poundsss jyou know"

Kajeela was loudly finishing off the remnants of a tasty peice of fish she'd helped herself to whilst inspecting the Russard kitchens as she made her observation on the Empress, though, inspecting was a liberal term...she'd been hungry and went where the food was at. Those little embarressments one called hor'sdorvs where sorely lacking the substance the Cizerack was looking for and taking five or six at one time was apparently bad manners if the look that Philips fellow had shot her was anything to go by.

"jYou've brrrought an entourrage with you Grrrand jInqujistjitorrr" she said, nodding to the rest of the Inquisitors that dotted through the crowd.

"Not expectjing trrrouble jI hope...?"

[Karl Valten]

While completely unplanned, the Inquisitors’ and the Empress’s arrival coincided quite nicely. The focus quickly shifted away from Valten and his subordinates to Miranda Tarkin and Gallus Tagge. Valten himself scanned the crowd and noted the mixed reactions that were expected. That Tarkin was here without a full compliment of guards disturbed him slightly, Karl was attempting to get used to these social events.

And he did take great pleasure in watching Minister Tagge storm away from the central festivities. Why the Empress allowed Sanya to maintain her position remained alien to the Grand Inquisitor, but he did suppose that incompetence did not mean treason. He would defer judgment to someone more politically minded.

Blanking the thought from his mind, Valten turned to the Cizerack addressing him.

“No matter how much technology advances that always seems the case, sadly”

The species remained a rarity in the Inquisitoriate’s line of work and her use of such…informal?...language confused the Grand Inquisitor. But it was bound to happen here.

“Nothing as exciting as trouble, I’m afraid. Many of our guests hail from the Navy or Military, neither of which hold the Inquisitoriate in high regard.”
Karl pointed out Sarah Lymia shaking off some young hangers-on as she made her way into less crowded territory.

“Inquisitor Lymia is the Inquisitoriate’s Military Liaison to the training grounds on Eriadu and Carida.”

Next Karl looked over towards the Devaronian obscured in a mass of people intent on their card game, his odd accent floating above the gathered.
“Inquisitor Sei’Trem used to serve both with the Judiciary and Department of Intelligence before being recruited to the Inquisitoriate.”

And finally the older gentlemen currently engaged in conversation with naval officer and his wife. Though Valten took notice of the peculiar look on the man’s face as he too took notice of the gathered, Karl would have to speak with him later.

“And Inquisitor Zeera is a former Fleet Commander and Liaison to Naval High Command”

With a smile, the Grand Inquisitor turned back to the Cizerack.

“The troublesome necessities of politics, I’m afraid, Miss……?”

[Yeart Quenn]

With a hiss, Sanya tore herself away from Yeart Quenn, just in time to see that Cael Bathala was returning with pair of glasses.

“I need some air, Cael. Take me outside, now.”

Her reaction didn't come entirely unexpected, but it took a few seconds before he realised what had caused it: the royal cireatch, the grand megalomaniac Miranda Tarkin-frelling-Tagge, had shown up.

Well if that wasn't like a stick of icy water shoved up his own arse!

He only faintly heard Sanyas command to the fawning twerp she'd coerced into coming with her, and it was mere coincidence that he took the same direction as the bewildered Bathala. The Kuati's mind was only on one thing now: sneak out from under the nose of that vile cireatch.

Unfortunately, he stepped right into the path of a felinoid thing, and when he tried to side-step her in his haste, he found himself eye-to-eye with Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten.

He froze.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela introduced herself formally, including her title of Detective and Official Representative of the ICPD to tonight's honoree, Empress Tarkin.

She had, in fact, been assigned with that express missive in mind, to convey the Department's heart-felt congratualtions to Miranda. It was a duty the Cizerack did not feel much affinity for. However, the words rolled of her tongue with a pleasant enough lilt, how could they not when the Grand Inquisitor was such a fabulous specimen of the huu-mann male? Kajeela tipped her head in a charming fashion, giving Valten the benefit of her coyest expression. Undoubtedly, he was here to work but Tarruurri just couldn't help herself. She was, afterall, Cizerack.

And then some idjiot almost stepped on her. Before she could round on the offending buffoon, he had come to a full-halt, pinned where he stood beneath the gaze of Valten, much like a field rabbit beneath the shadow of a hawk.

Her coy look had been completely upstaged.

[Getar V'al Counis]

"'Least most Mandys I've run into've always liked dressin' up like that. Frackin' overdone if ya ask me. If ya wanna be o'good hunter, I mean a Force-damned good one, ya gotta be willin' t'get ya mitts dirty.

"Least that's what I always thought."

For a moment he looked at the other man, trying to make sense of his words. What for the love of all that was holy was a Mandy?

But then an old memory resurfaced, sparked by that fragment of a word. And suddenly he had it on the tip of his tongue: A Mandalorian! A Mandy could only be a Mandalorian, that ancient race of armoured creatures.

Now that he thought of it - when she was all dressed up, she did look remarkably much like that combat instructor he'd hired for Caran a few years ago. He'd been a mountain of metal and foul-mouthed to boot; he had insisted on being a member of that race, as far as Getar could remember now. But if Caran's little assistant was supposed to be the same as that coarse brute... why... then....

"They're human?!?" he finally asked, astonishment dripping from his words.

[Karl Valten]

Detective? Surprising, given the ICPDs attitude towards non-humans, impressive even. Though Valten was not quite sure if he enjoyed that tone in her voice. Unfortunately before the Grand Inquisitor could respond with anything, the detective nearly found herself trampled underfoot and Karl found himself eye to eye with what looked to be a frightened sheep.
It took a second or two for the face to register in Valten’s memory. Moff Yeart Quenn of Kuat. He had never met the Moff in person before, but the man had quite a reputation.

Inquisitor Settra always conveyed a sense of disdain towards Quenn from her post in the Kuat system. And he had attempted, to a complete fireball close, to gain Miranda Tarkin’s favor as a suitable husband. Still, the general conclusion amongst the Inquisitoriate labeled Quenn as minor annoyance with no hint of real treason or corrupt dealings. Well, outside of what was the norm for any Moff.

Still, Valten had no reservations in playing in on the man's paranoia.

“Ah, I know you.” Karl turned to the thoroughly miffed Cizerack. “Detective Taruuri, this gentlemen here is Moff Quenn of the Kuat Sector.”

The Grand Inquisitor extended a hand wearing a serpent’s smile.

“A pleasure to meet you, my lord. We have heard much about you.”

[Xavier Synik]

"The suits are brilliant, they mimic human skin - they regulate temperature; are non-absorbant ie they dry quickly should they get wet as skin does; they even self-repair forming a sort of scar tissue to mend any tear or rift in the material....all this much faster and more efficiently than does human skin. However, the difficulty we have is that once the suit is damaged the temp regulator is not nearly as effective. You can imagine how the climate on some planets - Hoth for example - damage in this manner could be a death sentence to the soldier." Russard keened a little closer to Xavier, "There are certain species found in nature that are far superior to us in this capability of temperature regulation, and this is what our Company wishes to explore. Our base of operations is in Coruscant, but should we be able to satelite a small scientific expedition say....near where you lads are...it could be a profitable partnership on many levels."

"Indeed..." Xavier thought. He wasn't about to appear over eager, though the proposition that had just been dropped into his lap had so many possibilities swirling in his mind, and they weren't just about the money that could be made. There was so much more that he could do with access to Imperial technology, both in terms of the company itself as well as furthering his pwn personal interests.

"Mr. Russard, I think we can probably work out something that would be quite mutually beneficial to the both of us."

His mind was racing, Xavier had been preparing to diversify the company with a division more akin to his past, and one which would definately be able to use a few of the exosuits that Russard was talking about. He would have to make sure that whatever agreement that they came up with he would be able to get his hands on a few of the models.

"Why don't you have someone send over some documents that I can look at, and I'm sure we can get something worked out quickly."

While he would have negotiated the deal right there on the balcony, Xavier knew that it wasn't really the proper place for such a discussion, but in the end would leave it up to Russard to dictate. Besides, while he had probably just made the largest business deal he would likely make this evening, there were still other oportunities out there.

[Old Man Russard]

"I'll do that."

Pleased by Synik's reception to the idea, Jason knew that all that came next was the formalities. Someone from Russard Industries would be at Silenus Corp in the morning with the proposal outlines and the Old Man felt quite certain the two Corporations would come to a mutually suitable agreement. He had a good feeling about Synik, and years have proven it prudent for him to give in to those gut instincts.

The Old Man ground his cigar beneath his heel, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening Mr Synik." A roguish gleem came into the Elder Russard's blue eyes as he added, "Perhaps you should rescue that lovely creature you arrived with. For my part, I have to go inside and act like I give a damn."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"They're human?!?" he finally asked, astonishment dripping from his words.

Kazaar smirked. "Can't 'xactly tell without their armor. Feh...frackin' cheaters. Like th'damn FUs that were or used t'be out there. Gotta rely on th'Force t'get up in th'morning, decide what'cha wanna eat, wear...frackin' morons. Knew only one (http://www.sw-fans.net/wiki/index.php?title=Ashley) who ever decided t'focus on th'more important stuff'n frack th'Force. 'Course, even then..."

Couple puffs o'smoke later. "Yeh. Mandys're human f'th'most part. Seen a couple non-human ones. I'd ask ya female 'ssistant if ya wanna know more. If she ain't just runnin' 'round trying t'look cool, ya might have an honest t'God Mandy on ya hands. Just don't piss 'em off. Ain't th'best people t'do that."

[Yeart Quenn]

“A pleasure to meet you, my lord. We have heard much about you.”

When the Moff finally raised his hand - after a time that seemed entirely too long - it was all he could do to hide the tremble in his fingers. But to his surprise, he found that shaking the grand inquisitor's hand wasn't any different than anyone else's hand, and that gave him his courage back.

"Ahh... likewise, Grand Inquisitor."

Now that that was over.... what was he to say? His hand still in the other man's grip - too firm a grip for his taste - he was at a total loss for words.

After another moment, he finally gave an insecure smirk, and said in a voice that didn't at all sound like his normal one: "Ahh... nothing too bad, eh?"

[Xavier Synik]

The Old Man ground his cigar beneath his heel, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening Mr Synik." A roguish gleem came into the Elder Russard's blue eyes as he added, "Perhaps you should rescue that lovely creature you arrived with. For my part, I have to go inside and act like I give a damn."

Xavier was no force user, but he could tell that Emelie was on the balcony behind him, he'd caught a glimpse of her as she had come out of the ballroom and somehow knew that she had not gone back inside.

Dropping the last of his cigar and crushing the lit end under his foot Xavier extended his hand to the elder Russard.

"Well I wish you luck in making it through the evening relatively unscathed." He chuckled slightly. "I look forward to speaking with you in the future in relation to our business dealings."

Shaking Russard's hand he bowed his head slightly in respect before turning and walking over to Emelie with a grin on his face. Lightly wrapping one arm around her waist he pulled her to him just enough to be able to lean in and kiss her lightly.

"We've just become business partners with Russard Industries."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

It was becoming more and more obvious to Emelie that she didn't...belong at this event. Her official title gave the reason but the actuality of it was that when it came to corporate business and politics she couldn't care less. Standing on the balcony she took the opportunity to casually listen in on the two men discussing bounty hunters and Mandalorians, trying to keep herself with that blissfully ignorant look a polite young woman would have...though it wasn't too long ago that she'd had an associate who was tracked by one of them and the fresh memories of Cularin were far from pleasant.

Thoughts like that started to make her wish she hadn't emptied the entire glass of whiskey in one go and she was enjoying the lingering taste as she lightly sucked on her bottom lip when Xavier finished his conversation with the elder Russard and joined her. The news wasn't entirely surprising, though did bring a myriad of questions along with it though none could be asked at that moment.

"Knew there was a reason I brought you along." The wink she gave him only emphasized the silliness that they both knew was the truth.

This was more his arena and tonight she'd be spending just playing socialite rather than well...anything she was otherwise. It left her wondering if a single individual there was anything like her, really...and then her eye caught on someone that instantly made her blood run a bit cold. Emelie had never met the half-Cizerack woman, but like any smart individual involved in distributing the little sins of the galaxy, she had done enough research to know what laid behind the casino's owned by Sasseeri Reeouurra. If only the blond knew what the little half-Zeltron had been up to...how close she was to the one who probably had botched a few deals up recently for the Black Sun by undercutting them, especially in regards to spice deals.

"Hmm...now isn't that interesting?" The comment wasn't said to Xavier in particular so much as musing her own thoughts out loud and so it came softly.

A breath in and a perfectly rehearsed forced smile was given, perfecting the outwardly calm appearance that may have faltered for a moment. And then she was back to the sarcastic comments and coquettish mannerisms that always dominated her actions as she forced her attention back to her partner.

"Well at least one of us has gotten something accomplished tonight other than probably making a fool of themselves in front of some public official."

[Estelle Russard]

The interest in the new royal arrivals did not wane, persay, but rather settled into a patient waiting game among the guests taking opportunity in turn to greet them, as was polite. It would be uncouth to rush the pair and gush all over them, although one particular plump woman, Moff Kindles's wife, had no fear of doing so. Alarmed, Estelle thought the eager little Madamme might earn herself a thump on the head from one of the Guard's staffs but Dena diplomatically headed her off in good time to avoid any confrontation whatever. Estelle blessed Roger Philips for his foresight in having the young emissary here tonight.

"Im going to mingle" Estelle spoke into her father's ear, which he acknowledged with a pat on her hand. Actually, Estelle intended on marching straight back over to Santiago, Mili and Lykaios to pick up where they'd left off. It was taking some navigating to reach them however as she was intent on avoiding Madamme Kindle who was casting about for new prey, as well as sidestepping that rough Rekoj fellow she had noticed earlier. Neither two were an inviting prospect to get caught up in conversation with.

[Jason Russard]

Patting Estelle's hand, Jason watched his daughter move away amongst the guests. He was relieved that he had not made an idiot of himself during his welcome speech and that, so far, the evening was going along quite nicely.

He spied his father coming in from the balcony, with Xavier Synik just shortly behind him. The Old Man gave his son a wink as his glass was refilled and Jason smiled. Better than nicely.. Silenus Corp was an exciting new opportunity for Russard Industries to expand into exploration and experimentation and if that wink was anything to go by - and Jason knew that it was -- the Old Man had just brought them one step closer. The news should please Valten as well, it had been some time since Jason was able to impress the Inquisitor once again of what a vital contribution Russard Industries was to the Empire. Very nicely indeed.

If things on the business front were marching forward, personally they were much less mobile. It had not escaped Jason's notice that Trix Idalix had been monopolizing Adelaide's company the whole evening. Perhaps if he waited long enough, Kazaar might go and punch the young upstart in the nose. Jason could always hope.

For now, however, his attention was for the Empress and he noticed a scowl cloud her face.

"Is something amis, Empress?" he queried politely.

[Eliessa Corta]

Adelaide and Trix moved up to where Eliessa and North were talking, the Commodore turning at their approach, which was damn annoying as Corta was giving Travis one of her most beguiling smiles and she was sure he'd missed it.

She arched an eyebrow and waited for the coming introductions, not missing Adelaide's lame shrug. Good god, that girl had a lot to learn.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela watched Moff Quenn with curiosity. The man was giving off all kinds of conflicting scents and she struggled to pinpoint exactly what reaction he was having to meeting the Grand Inquisitor.

Tarruurri was content to standby for the moment as witness between the two, hoping Valten would dispense of the Moff quickly and she could turn things back to more interesting things.

Her mind strayed and along with it her eyes...was that servers bringing in platters of food..?

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Yeh. Mandys're human f'th'most part. Seen a couple non-human ones. I'd ask ya female 'ssistant if ya wanna know more. If she ain't just runnin' 'round trying t'look cool, ya might have an honest t'God Mandy on ya hands. Just don't piss 'em off. Ain't th'best people t'do that."

Despite having had a Mandalorian in his household for over a year almost - kark, whatever had happened to the fellow anyway? he couldn't even remember having terminated his employment - he had never seen Caran's instructor without full armor. The man had come highly recommended by another business associate, so Getar hadn't hesitated to employ him, and the man proved his worth according to Caran - in more than just the job he'd been paid to do, whatever that meant. Perhaps he should make a careful inquiry to his wife about the fellow, maybe she knew something more.

So, for some reason, Getar had been under the impression that Mandalorians weren't human. He didn't quite know why, but it seemed an easy assumption. He barely new anything about Mandalorians, other than there being a planet of similar name, and that they enjoyed walking around in tin cans or whatever that clanky armour was.

The first time he'd met that cute little assistant of Caran's she'd had no helmet on, so he'd not made the connection to the Mandalorian fellow since she was obviously very human.

This Kazaar fellow was a veritable trove of valuable information, really.

Getar kept his mouth shut about the Jedi. It wasn't his most popular topic at any rate, and he liked to keep his opinion to himself about it. So his only reply to his opposite was a noncommittal grunt as he flicked the ash off the tip of his cigar.

Out of habit, his eyes searched the crowd for Caran, and rested on the boy for a moment, the familiar stirrings of guilt rising in his belly as he did.

Thankfully, the fellow returned to the matter of Mandalorians again, and had another surprise for the old man - apparently, they weren't even a race.

"What do you mean, human and non-humans? They're not a race?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"You're askin' th'wrong person pal." Kazaar shrugged. "I'd ask ya friend if ya really wanna know. All I know is I've seen a couple Rodians wearin' their little Mandy armor. Pretty frackin' rare, but th'way they hung 'round a buncha human Mandys, they were 'accepted'."

He smirked. "Only hit up Mandalore one're twice in m'life. Never stuck 'round longer than o'week. Got 'nough stuff t'do."

[Karl Valten]

Kuat Drive Yards had repeatedly denied the Inquisitoriate access to their shipyards for subprojects. Always slating that the volume of contract required all available construction slips in the aftermath of Endor or some excuse about maintenance or lack of staff or some other bull shit.

Naval commanders seemed to press their disdain for the Inquisition everywhere they travelled, none more-so than at their precious construct sites churning out warship after warship. Even cooperation from the government became minimal; amongst other minor insults from Kuati nobility.

“Just the ravings of Inquisitor Settra. You’ve met her no?” High Inquisitor Settra easily remained one of the more…aggressive…members of the Inquisitoriate when it came to politics; especially in her regards to her blatant opposition to the Telbun system. The Citadel had more than once received formal complaints…and promptly ignored them.

“I apologize, Mr. Quenn, but I must take my leave.”

Valten relaxed his grip on Yeart’s hand for just a moment before…

“…Oh, if I may, my office would very much like to get in contact with you regarding access to your shipyards for a small construction effort.”

Only the Moff could feel the sudden intense grip that began crushing his hand. And only he could see the demonic glint that flared in the pits of the Grand Inquisitors eyes.

[Rekoj]

"A dance? You know what they say about dancing Reeouurra? Dancing is the perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire." Rekoj arched an eyebrow trying to match the sly grin that had taken control of his lips.

The dance floor they were approaching looked big enough to accommodate the majority of the party if the mood chose to sway in that direction. So far it had not, as the dance floor was relatively empty with only a scattering of guests taking part in some gentle two-steps. How mild, there would need to be a definite change of tempo.

"Something spicy perhaps?"

Rekoj took Sasseeri's hand and lifted it above her head, influencing the half breed into a unexpected three hundred and sixty degree twirl. When the Vigo found herself facing the Inquisitor again her body was snapped firmly up against his own. His other hand felt its way to the small of Sasseeri's back and down.

"Sha'll we?" Rekoj gave an enticing squeeze.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

If there was one thing Mr. Rekoj was not, it was uptight. Sasseeri wasn't sure if she liked him or hated him. Pressed up against his body - his njice and fjirrrm body - she mewled a little into his ear.

"Well, lets gjive them somethjing to talk about." The words were barely past her lips when he had them whirling about the dance floor, turning what had been a rather sedate dance into a steamy and sensual number that drew the eyes of their fellow dancers.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Despite the climate scrubbers, it was almost a balmy evening on Coruscant. The velveted walk to the mansion was hushed, a distant throng of hangers-on stood whispering in the far background, craning to catch a glimpse of others to join the party.

Taataani Fai'sheea Igaarrai Meorrrei fanned herself with a delicate arrangement of feathers in a gilded fan as she waited for her young host to escort her inside. Paxan Nerya was relatively young for a baron of industry, having recently completed his buyout of SienarTek Interstellar: a starship conglomerate with numerous important clients, the Galactic Empire being among the foremost. He was in his mid-thirties and rather attractive. Still, he was barely a chew toy. Taataani, old enough to be the hyuu-mann's mother, had broken him within a week. Oh he was cute enough to hang on and could keep her interested for a while, but tonight he served only one purpose - to get the Meorrrei clan matriarch into the most exclusive den of power brokers in the galaxy.

"Don't fuss now, Paxan, you'rre jin good company."

She slipped her arm through his while grinning genially. Her tail, trimmed with a lacy accent to complement her flowery dress, pressed against the side of his leg, running up it just slightly enough to remind him that she could run it up much higher and really cause him to lose his composure.

Paxan nearly flushed, smiling tightly as they walked together.

"Taataani, of course. You're right. I really should put my best forward, yes?"

Taataani, doing her part to cajole him into his boldest, looked up at her temporary beau with blue eyes casting off moonlight slightly and a knowing smile on her lips.

"What betterr tjime than the prresent to put yourr name forrwarrd wjith so many people to hearr jit?"

Inwardly, she thought about setting Paxan in the first monied lap that would humor him. She already had an itinerary of important people to meet. She may not be building starships or massing armies of stormtroopers, but Mama Taa had spent a lifetime making money here and there. She was a Cizerack, after all. Capitalism was the most celebrated of self indulgences. She certainly knew more about it than Paxan, but no need to put the young man down. He was a doll, after all.

[Caran V'al Counis]

He felt Nya's grip on him and turned on her a curious and examining eye. Caran had his own suspicions about his 'partner', things she kept hidden under that armour of hers. It was a hope of his, a double purpose in having her dressed the way she was. For one, she had to look the part, that much was true. Without her armour to hide her, everything would likely be laid to bare. The widening of her eyes, the uneasiness of the line of her mouth, the pitch of her voice when she uttered his name at the mention of certain individuals...

It was time to deal with his mother, whether he liked it or not. Certainly, knowing her, she just might stand there all night waiting for his acknowledgment. He kept a hand over Aree, which was curled around the crook of his elbow and turned to face the insufferable woman.

"Good evening, mother." He emphasized the familial title, adding tension to the word as if to subtly indicate his displeasure at her need to come anywhere near him. It might have come across as childish, were he to have made more of a fuss. He glanced at Nya, still gauging her physical reactions to her recent realization or epiphany, which seemed to have elicited some stripe of fear. "Ny... ah, Aree, this is my mother, Cora. Cora, Aree Ankarta."

He smiled tightly at his mother, then moved the arm which Nya gripped to place a hand on the small of her back, slipping said hand around to the other side and giving her a gentle push forward.

"Why don't you two talk? Get to know one another. I've some business to attend to." And with that, he left them, making quickly for where he had spied his father, Getar, chatting with Estelle's 'bodyguard' and tossing glances in his direction. His intuition gave him a nagging thought that there was more going on in that relationship than they let on. Nothing intimate persay, but something didn't seem all that honest about the image her and this 'Kazaar' presented to the general public.

Not that he had a bone to pick. Estelle was more like a kid sister to him, if anything and she could take care of herself. It was his business, investigating things. He felt, however, that he could leave that one well enough alone. What he couldn't leave alone was the mystery of Nya Halcyon. There were things, quite obviously, that she was not telling him and he couldn't abide that fact for too much longer. It was in him to want to know. It was practically his job. He settled himself along in the company of Kazaar and Getar and kept one- nay, both eyes, swept to the direction of the two women from whom he had taken his leave to 'attend to business.

Business, indeed.

"Evening, father... Mr. Kazaar." He said, plucking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and tipping his head to the both of them in greeting, then taking a sip. "I didn't get the memo à la 'shiver up my spine', but if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two were talking about me or something thereabouts. Care to indulge me?"

[Santiago Cristobal]

“Talk about making an entrance.” Said he as he turned his attention back to Mili and Cristobal.

"I agree." Cristobal nodded as Empress Tarkin made her way into the gathering. He noted ruefully how it appeared the more important one was, the more impressive the entrance had to be. So unlike the Alliance.

Santiago smiled a quick greeting to Estelle as she made her way back to the small group. "So Mister Lykaios. What brings you to the party?"

[Roger Phillips]

The attention had shifted. Good. Zai didn't want the attention on him, near him, or around him, in any way. Explanation was one of the kids strong points. Problem was, he wasn't having a strong night. First it took a while to get through the door. His outfit was right, his hair wasn't. Still, he managed. Especially since it wasn't good form to cause trouble with an Admiral.

Gutsy, really - acting as Admiral. Zai hadn't done it before. Normally he went under-cover on the lower totem pole, but that wouldn't work. This was a classy event - royal type. The only way in was the front door, no side entrance. So, he had to be a spectacle. All the assortments were adorn. Deck in his white, sleek outfit, and blessed with the authentic medals he stood stout and ready as if his fleet was behind him.

The only fault he had in his design was habit. Rarely did he slip, but the keen eye might have caught him sticking his hands in his pockets. Cool, collective, he didn't betray an Admiral's nature, but did put into question the typical uniform behavior. Someone so highly classed in the Imperial traditions, and Navy wouldn't let anything casual be found in their demeanor. They always walked around with a caribarator stuck in their load. That was their way, and hopefully no one noticed him swaying a bit off track.

So far, he was good. A few talks here, chit-chat there, and he was coasting. All he had to do was keep his ears prick. Any info on the whereabouts of these supposed "hoskey Jedi" zealots could put this down as a success. Matter fact, any progression would leave this risky move as a success. The time had come to go out on a limb. Nothing had been happening since his last operation, and Zai had to be drastic.

That was the only way anything would get done.

"Blumfruit please," he said, barely lifting his hand from his side. The help was off with the tray, walking about, handing out delicacies. Good stuff - he wouldn't mind taking a bite himself. Especially since it was on the house. As long as it wasn't on him, it would taste great...

"He'll be having that to go," Roger's voice added from behind Zai.

Two very big, burly, non-nonsense types flanked Roger as he confronted the interloper. "Sir, that Admiral's uniform just doesn't suit you. You're not on the guest list, no one here has been able to identify you, and while you seem to have successfully sidled in during the arrival of the Imperial entourage you are not with the Empire."

"That's preposterous." The other paused indignantly, but it was an act that Roger easily saw through. His voice did not carry with it any of the true propriety or command of an Imperial Admiral. It was instead the raw, slivered speech of someone whose voice had been cut to ribbons by fear.

In contrast, Roger stood calm, resolute, and charming even in the face of a problem. "Is it?" Roger gestured behind him. "Perhaps Empress Tarkin or Inquisitor Valten would care to vouch for you? They are here, and while I pride myself on knowing who's who of the Empire, I'm sure they'd be able to confirm anyone who had slipped through the cracks of my knowledge. As well, they would likely take a special interest in anyone posing as an Imperial Admiral."

The intruder did not answer, a boy in a uniform made of smoke and the hope of unasked questions. "I thought not," Roger cleared his throat. "If you would follow me please?" As they moved off, Roger tapped a few commands into a wrist unit.

The three escorts led Zai to a small room with a table and a few chairs. "Inside if you would sir," Roger directed.

The other willingly entered the room with a push from one of Roger's security agents. Roger pulled the door closed and the two stood on either side of it. After another half minute or so, Aurelias Kazaar came into view, accompanied by another of Roger's men. "Th' frack ya want Rog?" he asked, his lips clamped tightly around the cigar he'd been smoking outside. "Was chattin with ol' man Val Counis when ya boy asked me over."

"Mr Kazaar, thank you for coming," Roger began. "I have a gentleman inside this room who is quite definitely an intruder. I'd like to ask for your help in questioning him. If he doesn't respond to questions, that's fine - we don't need to know why someone would crash the societal party of the decade - but we'd like you to escort him out if he's uncooperative."

Kazaar's cigar shifted with a look of hesitant acceptance. "Rog, ya owe me one f' this."

"As a partial concession, you're allowed to smoke inside for as long as the task takes. I'm sure I'll find additional ways to compensate you later."

Kazaar nodded grudgingly. "Hold on t' this," he said, giving his coat to one of the security agents. In an almost stereotypical fashion, Kazaar began to roll up his sleeves as he entered the room for his 'talk'.

Roger watched him go with mild satisfaction. "Please do take good care of his coat," he instructed the guard. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see a gentleman about some business arrangements."


######

From the balcony, it would have been easy to see Roger's approach; finding Xavier Synik watching him as he came up thus did not surprise. Roger put on his most disarming smile, seeking just to ease any tension or uncertainty that might settle in at his arrival.

"Mr Synik? Ms Shadowstar?" Roger began. "My name is Roger Phillips and I work for Russard Industries directly under the Younger Mr Russard; I also liase with many of our top clients. I've been advised that I'll be delivering some documents to you tomorrow and wanted to take the opportunity to introduce myself to you now so it would not be a surprise when I arrive later. I was also hoping we could spend some time getting acquainted."

He extended a hand, first towards Xavier. "How are you this evening? Don't find the party too stuffy, I hope?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

'Course what Rog'n th'Russards knew, Kazaar wasn't gonna frack th'guy up. No point t'it. Wasn't an Imp, so that gave 'im o'point in Kazaar's book, but he'd tried t'slip in t'a party done by some o'the people th'former bounty hunter's heart hadda nice little place for. Most of 'em anyway...Jason th'Younger had a helluva stick up his ass'n Rog never always let 'im have any fun. Most o'the time.

"Here's what we're gonna do pal." Kazaar cracked 'is knuckles'n blew smoke at Zai's face f'effect. "I ain't beatin' ya up t'night. Ain't in thfrackin' 'mood. But I sure as hell ain't lettin' ya stick 'round here. 'Specially with that frackin' fake uni ya got. So take that damn thing off'n get outta here."

Th'guy looked like he was gonna protest. Kazaar got in 'is face, his black eyes pretty calm. "There's o'game I learned while ago." He pulled outta vibroblade he'd hidden in 'is pants'n turned it on. "Called five finger fillet (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_knife_game)."

Kazaar spread out Zai's hand'n started slowly movin' th'blade between th'fingers. "Now take off that Force-damned uniform'n get the frack outta here. Before I decide t'go any faster."

Five minutes later, 'is victory cigar perched b'tween 'is lips, Kazaar was back with th'V'al Counises. He'd somehow forgotten 'is jacket. Instead it was headed up t'his room. If he frackin' ran into Delly he sure didn't want t'cause o'scene.

"Frackin' party crasher." He smirked as if t'say he 'dealt' with 'im. "Who's th'dame ya got tied t'ya arm. She like t'play dress up in some kinda armor?"

[Xavier Synik]

From the balcony, it would have been easy to see Roger's approach; finding Xavier Synik watching him as he came up thus did not surprise. Roger put on his most disarming smile, seeking just to ease any tension or uncertainty that might settle in at his arrival.

"Mr Synik? Ms Shadowstar?" Roger began. "My name is Roger Phillips and I work for Russard Industries directly under the Younger Mr Russard; I also liase with many of our top clients. I've been advised that I'll be delivering some documents to you tomorrow and wanted to take the opportunity to introduce myself to you now so it would not be a surprise when I arrive later. I was also hoping we could spend some time getting acquainted."

He extended a hand, first towards Xavier. "How are you this evening? Don't find the party too stuffy, I hope?"

Xavier smiled and reached out to shake Roger's hand.

"Mr. Philips it's a pleasure to meet you."

He let go of his hand and took a slight step back.

"The party is wonderful, thank you for asking. And that's aside from the business deal which you obviously know about.

You don't actually need to spend your time coming all the way out to our facilities. You can send it along to my assistant Jax Stracken. Emelie doesn't know it yet, but I think we're going to take a couple of days vacation while we're here. Emelie get's back to Coruscant more then I do, so going to take some time while we have it."

Xavier didn't know if Roger knew about the Bastel or not, and decided not to mention it by name. He suspected that Roger knew about it, but when unsure about what someone knew, it was always better to avoid just handing them information.

[Caran V'al Counis]

"Something like that, Mr. Kazaar. Something like that." He replied.

Caran chuckled, lifting the flute to his lips and sipping quietly, snuffing out the laughter in short order. He kept a bit of an eye on the two women, not letting his investigative watch detract from his ability to participate in conversation.

"Though if you ask my personal opinion, I think she looks much better in the dress." An agreeable smile formed and he admired her form from afar, amidst his ponderings. A little enjoyment of the subject of his present investigations could hardly do much harm in this setting, now could it? "She's been of great use in my employ. Not sure I'd go so far to say she's Mando, but she sure seems to think it and act it. The armour is a nice touch to a believable image."

He knew she at least was very convicted that she was Mando, at the very least. If anyone had a good point of reference, it was Caran. She spoke the language well enough, that much was for certain. The younfer V'al Counis turned his face fully to Aurelias.

"What do you think?" Then he turned his gaze back to the woman in question, (as if to say that asking Kazaar's thoughts might have been rhetorical, though an answer was welcome) wondering just how said woman was getting on with his dear mother.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Now Kazaar was really feelin' outta place. Ya never called someone 'Mister' unless ya were lookin' t'get under their skin. Th'former bounty hunter kinda doubted th'boy V'al Counis was tryin' t'do that.

"Drop th'Mister' crap will ya? Name's Kazaar. Keep it like that." He blew outts long puff o'tobacco, enjoyin' the flavor even more. "Dame's cute sure." And she definitely looked pretty frackin' familiar.

"Don't look too comfy in th'dress either. What she think she's some kinda Mandy're something with th'armor she likes?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle tuned into to the conversation as she rejoined Santiago, Mili and Lykaios, the former discreetly folding his hand over hers in a quasi-possessive gesture. Estelle beamed. Could this night be more perfect?

Behind her, Kazaar was making new friends..or reaquainting old ones. One never really knew for sure, given Aurelias and his ambiguous past associations. Estelle took it as a good sign that he was striving to atleast appear social. She tossed a casual look his way and he noticed it immediately, giving her a subtle reassuring nod. She turned back to her company.
"Lykaios, please, tell us a little about yourself. Were you at the coronation ceremony of the Empress? I heard it was quite something."

[Getar V'al Counis]

This Kazaar fellow was highly interesting.

There had to be something more to him than his rough accent and uncouth manners, for Phillips to turn to him when there was trouble. Or was it part of Russard Jr.'s contract with Kazaar to have him act as security at this party? It seemed a little odd, otherwise, for young Estelle's bodyguard to be a guest at a Russard party otherwise.

Getar preferred thinking about Kazaar to having to deal with the uncomfortable stirrings of guilt Caran's first words had caused in him. Another memento of his past... another sign of the heritage the boy had been denied because of his actions. It had been the smart decision back then, but a selfish one, too. The older he got, the clearer that became.

As the old man stood there apparently following the conversation between his son and Aurelias Kazaar, the old memories won over his new curiosity, and he sank into a sullen mood of wondering what the boy would have been like, would have experienced, would have learned, if he - doddery old foold that he'd been already back then - had exposed them all. The what ifs were haunting him again, inspite of the outcome of the situation back then. But he hadn't decided to accept fate because of some foreboding voice telling him of the dangers of not doing so - he'd simply wanted the boy. A son. It'd been a second chance where he'd not thought another possible, having seen to it himself that it could not. It'd been a selfish thing to keep Caran for himself, but... for all his respect for the Jedi, he would not have let them take the boy. Even if his father was one of them.

Maybe if Kel-Naro had fought for him. But the Jedi hadn't. Had accepted the news, and accepted his deal. Maybe he, with his Jedi senses, had known what fate might have had in store for the boy had he become one of them. But if so, he'd not said a word of it - simply given up every right to his own son. And Getar had thought him cowardly, yet at the same time rejoiced. For with the rejection, the Jedi had given him a son.

His eyes watering now, Getar watched Caran, thinking of all the situations where he'd felt vindicated for his decision and actions back then. He couldn't have had a better son.

[Vince]

"Sir," he clicked his heels together as he saluted and stood stiffly. "Flight Lieutenant Idalix reporting for affirmation of transfer."

For a moment, under the scrutiny of North, Idalix felt his easy-going confidence falter for a moment under the weight of the man's authority. He allowed himself a quick glance at Adelaide, and saw that she seemed nervous as well. He hoped that his nervousness wasn't so easily seen; after all, he'd been trained to act under the eyes of thousands of people at once. Compared to that, one man couldn't be so difficult, could he?

[Cora V'al Counis]

"Good evening, mother." He emphasized the familial title, adding tension to the word as if to subtly indicate his displeasure at her need to come anywhere near him. "Ny... ah, Aree, this is my mother, Cora. Cora, Aree Ankarta."

He smiled tightly at his mother, then moved the arm which Nya gripped to place a hand on the small of her back, slipping said hand around to the other side and giving her a gentle push forward.

"Why don't you two talk? Get to know one another. I've some business to attend to." And with that, he left them.

She was too much a product of society to allow the intensity of her displeasure to show on her face. He dared talk to her like that!!!

It stung. Oh how it stung. And how it hurt - physically hurt - her to return his smile. She tried to pour every ounce of genuine warmth and love into it, but his never wavered a bit from its glacial coldness.

"Caran,... you--" she began to mutter, trying to entreat him one more time, trying to pick up the conversation where it had ended so disappointingly the last time. But instead of giving her even a second, of listening, he simply thrust his assistant at her, and stormed off after a short introduction.

He'd called her Cora, not mother.

That was the moment she realised she had truly lost her son.

Panic rose inside her heart, accompanied by sharp stabs of pain, and she lost all sense of dignity for a moment. Gasping for air even though her lungs seemed ready to burst with it, she snatched at the young woman's arm, instinct forcing her to find something to ground herself on. Even then, she didn't realise she had: she was lost, lost in a sea of faces, of voices, of meaningless babble that was swelling and ebbing in murmuring waves, creating vocal background to her personal orchestra of silent shrieking filling her head.

"Caran...!" she tried to call after him, but her voice wasn't there. It was a silent croak. It echoed inside her head. It was all empty in there now, but for the reverberating of his name. Her son. Lost.

What could she have done....? Totally oblivious to her surroundings now, hanging on to his assistant's arm without realising that she was doing so, she simply stood there, her eyes wide open as the first tears started to roll down her cheek.

[Yeart Quenn]

“Just the ravings of Inquisitor Settra. You’ve met her no?”

“I apologize, Mr. Quenn, but I must take my leave.”

Valten relaxed his grip on Yeart’s hand for just a moment before…

“…Oh, if I may, my office would very much like to get in contact with you regarding access to your shipyards for a small construction effort.”


Settra? Oh yes - how could he ever forget the Inquisitor that had come to call on him during the early days of his appointment, and done the mental equivalent of trying to shove her opinion of just what was wrong about the telbun system up his arse with a large metal stick? It had been because of her that he had taken on a telbun in the first place - just out of spite.

An annoyed nod was all he allowed himself to give the grand inquisitor in return to his question, which had been at best rhetorical, anyway.

Relief washed over him when he heard Valten announce that he must be off, only to be replaced by instant cowering dread when he saw the look in the man's eyes. Nevermind his hand which felt on fire, somehow - there was something inhumanly terror-inducing about Valten at that moment, and a shudder ran through the Moff. His mind was a total blank.

"Ahh... yes.... your office.... yes---" was all he managed to stammer, a mere repeat of what Valten had said, never realising that there was an assent in there somewhere, too.

[Rekoj]

The band had remarkably picked up on the couples saucy tango and did their best to keep the tempo. It was something that scared off some of the dancers while others took delight in joining in on the spark of lust filled activity.

Rekoj drew his hands to the small of Sasseeri's back, his right continuing to fall over the naughty curve of her butt and down to the back of her thigh. He gave a wink and hoped the half breed had enough dance intuition to feel what was coming as he let her drop in a low dip. Something for the boys perhaps, the Inquisitor thought with a grin as he sinfully reached down to bring the hem of Reeouurra's dress up to reveal the entirety of her right leg. He let her indulge the crowd before bringing her back up to press against his chest as the song neared its end.

[Eliessa Corta]

While Trix 'reported for duty' to North or whatever the heck he was doing, Eliessa allowed herself to purvey the room about her. There was old Getar, another old school associate of Corta's..the man had lost so much hair! And there was his wife, whom Eliessa had met once years ago at a benefit lunch in Imperial Center. They were money, those two. This bash of Jake's had brought out some of the wealthiest families in the city.

She recognised Valten, albeit she knew him only by reputation and even then, hard data on him was not easily come by. Not surprising really, given his position, but it was an annoyance to the Judge nonetheless.

There was Tarruurri, who Corta had liasoned with in the past on a number of different cases and who's sympathies to the Empire were simplified down to whatever keeps the streets safe. Corta was not convinced things were really that simple, however. The ICPD Detective's sense of injustice had often revealed itself in their discussions and the Judge felt the felinoid's increasing frustrations. It was a good relationship to explore.

And speaking of Cizeracks..the guests were getting a good show with the duo dancing the Tango. It was an odd match, Corta decided, but the two seemed to suit each other. They definitely danced well together. Applause erupted as Rekoj dipped Sasseerri and the room crackled a little with the effect of their display. "That was well done" Corta said, appreciatively.
Adelaide and Trix turned to where the Judge was looking, the dance now ended and Rekoj pulled Sasseeri into a close embrace.

"He another one of yours, North?" Eliessa asked Travis.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Adelaide didn't care much for dancing, couldn't remember the last time she'd done it -- in any acceptable form with respect to their present company, that is. It was a long road from the days of Gorgja's Palace..

She halted the memory as best she could right there. Gorgja led to Aurelias and Aurelias led to watching him standing there wearing that damned suit and playing stupid games that she just was not up for. She had a strong urge to give him a peice of her mind and perhaps stick him with something sharp. A very strong urge. Trix must have sensed the sudden swing in her mood as he turned to look uncertainly at her.

Look at him...large as life. Adelaide even suspected he was, god forbid, having himself a good time. Bastard. She shot him daggers from where she stood and was barely held in her place from storming over to him by the subtle touch of Corta's hand to her arm. Apparently, Trix wasn't the only one to pick up on the volatile vibes Kazaar's former wife was generating.

[Karl Valten]

“Excellent, my aides shall be getting in contact with you soon.”

The smile turned warm and his eyes lightened somewhat, but it was still nearly impossible to read the Grand Inquisitor, the man had such impeccable control over his body language it was almost frightening.

“You will be compensated of course, we look forward to doing business with you. Do enjoy the rest of the party.”

Valten slightly lowered his head in a barely discernable bow, and took his leave turning towards the Cizerack.

“Shall we, Ms. Tarrurri?”

And with that the Inquisitor and Detective disappeared from Quenn’s sight.

“I detest politicians to no end.”

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

"Mmm" Kajeela purred in agreement. "Though, therrre arrre tjimesss they serrrve a purrrpossse, jIm sssurrre"

She fell into step with Valten, resisting the urge to thread her arm snugly through his and lay claim to him for the rest of the night. That would be inappropriate and perhaps a little too forward given his position. Still, the idea was hard to shake given the proximity of his tall frame and wonderful scent. She settled instead for lifting her tail to casually drape across the back of his waist and rest lightly on his hip. One might barely notice it even there.

"jI sssuppossse manjy of them would be vjyjing for the Grrrand jInqujisssjitorrrsss favourrr, ssseekjing jyourrr good grrracesss. Harrrd to apprrrecjiate people ljike that."

For her own part, Tarruurri was inured to politics in general. Her scope of interest involved the things she could directly effect in her own straigh-forward, shoot to the chest, style. Mind games and power plays were for the manipulative and ambitious. Kajeela didn't think she was overly manipulative or ambitions for a Cizerack - or a human.

"The rrrjissse of the new Emprrressssss meansss change. Manjy arrrre uncerrrtain jussst what that change may mean, Mjisterrr Valten."

[Karl Valten]

Valten twitched just slightly even before the Detective’s tail subtly wrapped about his waist. It was….unexpected….but the Grand Inquisitor made no mention of the incident. Strange, he’d almost gotten completely used to the fear or hatred almost every sentient being showed him. The simple gesture brought back some of old thoughts and musings.

“Unfortunately many do not realize that my favor is earned, not bought.”
The Grand Inquisitor laughed a little.

“Even then favor benefits them very little.”

He did not enjoy these games a charades he was forced to take part in. The Inquisitoriate was not a political or government entity, or financial institution, or court of law. It was the will of the Emperess and the guardian of order and stability.

Unfortunately it seemed that the Empire could not save itself unless Valten and the Inquisitoriate intervened. Now it seemed the he was more a Moff than an Inquisitor. Karl hated it, he did not desire power or control, just to complete his duties without grievance.

“Change? Perhaps, but not as much as most would think. I see the rise of Empress Tarkin as restoration, though the masses may disagree.”

Valten accepted a pair of glasses of Emerald Wine from a host and offered one to Tarruurri.

“I suppose that it falls on your department to deal with the civil unrest?”

[Emelie Shadowstar]

As Xavier spoke Emelie's gaze couldn't help but linger back into the main hall, to the dance floor to watch the tango that was unfolding. That tiniest streak of typical feminine jealousy held her attention there. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done such a thing... And try as she might to pick up on the emotions and feelings of the other guests, it was all too muddled and she far too ungifted to really pinpoint anything other than her own longing for another glass of the strong stuff.

There was only a mild sense of surprise at her companion's confession of plans to remain on Coruscant for a period of time. A trip to the Core without a visit to her bar would have been unheard of in her mind. At present Emelie's own plans had involved at least a handful of shots and a good card game to end the night at the Bastel, even if it meant seeing the sun rise before finally heading to sleep. But that was all a ways off and for the moment she was here with the Imperial elite. At least Roger seemed a decent fellow from what she could surmise on first impression...

"Xi... You make it sound as if it is so troubling for individuals to come all the way out to our offices and honestly, you think you could hide that little secret of us staying here for a few days from me?"

The smirk she'd held in check when Xavier had spoken now formed fully.

"But yes, it's probably best if Stracken handles the initial paperwork, I can't remember the last time you took a proper vacation."

The comment was a lie, but was something Emelie often teased her partner of regardless. The playful demeanor kept as she turned back to Roger.

"I'm sure our dealing with Russard Industries will give you plenty of other opportunities to come all that way though, Mr. Phillips. Though I dare say I believe those little get togethers will be entirely lacking in the possibility of a Moff becoming inebriated enough to try and wear part of a lighting fixture as a hat... Pitty."

Emelie doubted very much such a thing would happen here, but the thought was amusing at least and while some part of her hoped it would be found that way to the two men as well, she didn't really care. In truth she was trying to figure out who would have the greatest possibility of bringing the little visual into reality and wondering if it'd be possible for her to even aid in such a thing. She really was just incorrigible some days.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela accepted the wine and tossed it back with appreciation before replying to the Grand Inquisitor.

"Ourrr job jis easssjy" she stated, smacking her lips together only slightly in order to savor the alcohol. "Catch the bad gujysss and lock them awajy" and smiled as if that were her greatest pleasure in the world.

She plucked another glass of wine from the server's tray before he drifted too far from them. "Drjink up Grrrand jInqujisssjitorrr - jit jis a verrry tassstejy vjintage."

Tarruurri could not be described as being in her element at the evening's gathering. She was more a corner-bar kind of socialiser who's idea of a good time was to beat the local crew at a game of pool and with her winnings buy them a few rounds. However, she did not appear uncomfortable in tonight's setting in the least and viewed the guests who mingled and shuffled about her as equals and by no means her betters.

She wondered if Valten was having a good time or if boredom was killing him and it was an effort just to get through the night. He would need to do more than sip that Emerald wine like some debutant if that was so. If ever there was a time for a Carshoulis Dynamite, tonight would be it, Kajeela mused. But he was on duty, she supposed - so that particular blend of vodka, saierroot and lime juice was probably best left alone. On her home world, many a favoured male of the Pride Mother's had fallen from grace (and the palace walls) thanks to that little concoction.

"Have you everrr been to Carssshouljis Prrrjime, Mjissster Valten?" she asked, curious to know a little something more about him outside of his Imperial Office and the setting of the Inquisitoriate. "jIt jis a Matrrrjiachal Worrrld, wherrre cjitjizensss are qujit usssed to a Strrrong Female at the helm."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Apparently, Trix wasn't the only one to pick up on the volatile vibes Kazaar's former wife was generating.

Whatever th'two V'al Counises were talking 'bout was lost on Kazaar. He could feel 'em. Th'visual daggers pressin' 'gainst his back. Figured th'Kid wasn't th'one lookin' at 'im (since she was havin' a real blast with th'frackin' analyst Cristobal) and he doubted Crei'd come back from th'dead. His eyes slowly shifted t'a reflective pane o'glass.

Yup. Adelaide.

Dame was lookin' at 'im like she wished he'd been th'one whose throat she'd slit not Crei's. Kazaar's smirk was almost sad. He'd fracked up comin' here. Even if th'Kid'd invited 'im. 'Course, ya couldn't say no t'Estelle, so wasn't really 'is fault. 'Course if he'd bothered t'buy o'new suit an' not a new blaster'n box o'cigars (or four) every few weeks...

Woulda. Coulda. Shoulda. Tough bantha paddies (an' not th'steak ones). Ain't no one's fault on how he dressed. How he'n Delly's marriage crashed'n burned...well they were killin' themselves inside every day. An' avoidin' each other ain't gonna be th'kinda thing t'work either.

'Course, how th'frack was talkin' gonna help either?

Kazaar excused himself from th'chat with th'V'al Counises'n tried t'disappear even further into th'outside crowd.

[Karl Valten]

The corner of Valten’s lips twitched upward as the detective tossed back not one, but two glasses of the very, very expensive wine. He did indulge though draining his glass, though not quite so much in the feverish manner that Turruurri had.

“You may want to slow the drink a bit. An intoxicated representative from the ICPD may not bode well with many of the aristocrats.”
Social festivities such as this had never been part of an Inquisitors official duties. Certainly during the years spent in the field there had been the undercover moments and information gathering session while putting down at shots to get people to talk. It seemed now that mingling with the aristocracy and even the public in general was required of him.
He’d always found it so tedious and a waste of time, but he was starting find at least some enjoyment.

“Sadly I haven’t ventured much near the Gordian Reach Sector, though I have been through the Yavin System once several years back.”

“I have read on the Cizerack culture, very interesting I must say. Though treating an entire gender almost as slaves seems an inefficient use of talent and resources. I don’t mean to insult, inequalities occur even in the Empire, but the Inquisitoriate does not concern itself with male or female, native or alien, biological or mechanical power-plays. Dominion of the sort is just….strange to us.”

It was true, while yes, the Inquisitoriate did contain a large percentage of male humans, females where not disregarded, and many non-human races did exist. Even several droids and artificial intelligences could be counted in the ranks.

[Sarah Lymia]

Inquisitor Lymia had been hanging around bored most of the evening. Certainly she spent a deal of the time chatting it up with several of the party goers…more than enough of the probably the son’s of entrepreneurial empires trying to charm their way into the good graces of an Inquisitor.
She been fine enough making them dance around to her will like the amusing little marionettes they were, but that changed rather quickly when some harpy of a Moff’s wife had appeared and nearly caused her head to explode from the mid-numbing drivel that spewed from her mouth.

Needless to say, Sarah quickly excused herself to the washroom, leaving the tools with the annoying woman. On her way out, she managed to catch a glimpse of the last few minutes of the arousing dance to a spicy beat.

Oh ho, what have we hear now? The Inquisitor maneuvered her way to the edge of the circle wearing a sly smile that only widened as she saw who exactly was dominating the spotlight. Rekoj?!! How did he manage to pick up a fox like that? Damn, didn’t think he knew those moves.<o></o>

This, this, was something much more her style. Fun, energetic, and a great way to tease. She couldn’t help herself as she saddle up next to one of the more attractive nobility, spinning with a flourishing shimmer of her dress and a wink.
She and her chosen partner danced along the outskirts, Sarah was content enough not to intrude on Rekoj and his woman of the evening. Looks like she’d chosen well, the boy could actually dance, though he had nowhere near the gumption that the other Inquisitor had.

Sarah applauded with the rest of the crowd as the song ended and Rekoj less than subtly showed off his date. Lymia gave her own a slight kiss on the cheek and broke away towards the couple that had stolen the show.

Oh hell, is that Reeouurra? Schmusing with the crime-lords? Whatever, the Cizerack was his project, Lymia didn’t give a damn.

“Rekoj you devil! “ Sarah laid a hand on her hip, dress shifting iridescent colors as the light changed around her.

“Quite the show.”

She bowed slightly towards the Vigo.

“I feel a bit jealous, I think.”

[Travis North]

Travis returned the salute in brief fashion. He looked Trix over and recalled the profile which had been sent to him only a short time before this shindig began.

"At ease, Lieutenant. This is a civilian engagement not a military affair so you can relax on the military formalities. You seem a capable man and I'd be glad to see you serve aboard the Cavalier. I'd rather discuss your duties at a later time, for now enjoy yourself. You'll be missing this kinda lifestyle soon enough."

His vision tracked over just in time to catch the final flourish of the dance. He didn't recognize the man, but remembered his face for future reference.

"Not one of mine, but he sure knows how to put on a show. It wouldn't surprise me if he was another agent of the Inquisition. They seem to be here in force, but considering the guest list I think its a mix of security and attending to personal agendas. Accomplishments make the Inquisitor, that is why their individual reputations spread like wildfire throughout the Empire."
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[Vince]

Trix relaxed, and nodded. "Very well, Commodore. Until then."

With another nod, Idalix turned back to Adelaide, only to she her looking in another direction; due to the angle of her face and where he stood, he couldn't quite see her expression.

"Well," he said, detaching himself from what he knew must have been a bit of a rude interruption to all involved. "What is it over there that has you so preoccupied?"

He looked over in the general direction of Adelaide's own gaze, but could see nothing that struck him as noticeable.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

...Rekoj drew his hands to the small of Sasseeri's back, his right continuing to fall over the naughty curve of her butt and down to the back of her thigh. He gave a wink and hoped the half breed had enough dance intuition to feel what was coming as he let her drop in a low dip. Something for the boys perhaps, the Inquisitor thought with a grin as he sinfully reached down to bring the hem of Reeouurra's dress up to reveal the entirety of her right leg. He let her indulge the crowd before bringing her back up to press against his chest as the song neared its end.

Now, that was how one danced. Sasseeri was pleased that Inquisitor Rekoj was not as stuffy as the others she'd met. This was the most fun she'd had since becoming Tear's 'guest.'

"jI'd betterrr mjingle now," she purrred throatily into his ear, and he released her slowly. She could see Grand Inquisitor Valten across the room, and entertained the thought of outing Tear's little... jinsurrrrrrectjion? to him. Rekoj, however pleasant he was, was probably tasked with making sure that never happened.

[Lykaios]

"Lykaios, please, tell us a little about yourself. Were you at the coronation ceremony of the Empress? I heard it was quite something."
Lykaios moved his head from left to right and again, his half smiled disappeared momentarily reflecting a bit of disappointment within.

"No, I'm afraid I was away in business, which made it impossible for me to attend such an illustrious occasion."

His half smile returned not as quick as it had disappeared.

"I've only been able to watch some of the holo-vids and I must agree with you, it looked grand."

The seven footer purposely left out more information about himself. He had only been part of the Empire for a short time and his cover wasn't fully established.

"From the sounds of it, you weren't able to attend either..."

The way he finished his sentence it was more of a question than a statement.

[Estelle Russard]

"That's correct, I was also away at the time"

She omitted to add that she and her two companions were investigating a series of leads and actively trying to flush out and Imperial rat amongst the Alliance ranks. That might have been a bit of a conversation stopper..

"My work takes me off-planet often, in fact its nice to be home and catch up with some old family acquaintances for a change."

Her work as a free-lance Art Appraiser was the perfect cover for all her Rebel Intel absences from Coruscant and her frequent lengthy disappearances were accepted as simply part of an exciting and rewarding career.

"What is it that you do, business-wise for the Empire, Mr Lykaios?"

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela 'psssshed' Valten's gender-equality naivetism with an airy wave of her hand. That was so typical of huu-mans, they are all so sensitive to each others 'rights' and 'potentials'. It was charming really, well in Karl she found it was anyway. She licked her lips a little.

"The malesss of Carrrssshouljisss arrre happjy and well-adjusssted" she said. "Ourrr socjietjy jis sssuccesssful and everrrjybodjy hasss a purrrpossse."

She plucked a glass for each of them once again from the server who had the wit to continue to circulate near her with his tray. She was not even close to feeling the effects of the wine, and would not be until a few more well into it, the Cizerack metabolism being what it was. It was sweet of Valten to voice concern though.

"You drrraw alot of jinterrressst, Grrrand jInqujisssjitorrr" she remarked, noticing Vigo Reeouura's look his way. This party had brought out some very exclusive individuals, including Sasseeri who was well known to ICPD (if not officially proven) for her criminal underworld connections. Kajeela bucked at the idea that she was under strict instructions from HQ to 'socialize' and not, what was the word? Oh..accost, she was not to accost anyone.

She turned her attention wholly back to Valten, "What doesss accossst mean, do jyou thjink?" And the look she gave him made him sputter into his drink a little bit.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Trix relaxed, and nodded. "Very well, Commodore. Until then."

With another nod, Idalix turned back to Adelaide, only to she her looking in another direction; due to the angle of her face and where he stood, he couldn't quite see her expression.

"Well," he said, detaching himself from what he knew must have been a bit of a rude interruption to all involved. "What is it over there that has you so preoccupied?"

He looked over in the general direction of Adelaide's own gaze, but could see nothing that struck him as noticeable.

Adelaide turned back to Trix, wearing a sour expression and voicing an even sourer response,
"My husband"

[Xavier Synik]

"I'm sure our dealing with Russard Industries will give you plenty of other opportunities to come all that way though, Mr. Phillips. Though I dare say I believe those little get togethers will be entirely lacking in the possibility of a Moff becoming inebriated enough to try and wear part of a lighting fixture as a hat... Pitty."

Emelie doubted very much such a thing would happen here, but the thought was amusing at least and while some part of her hoped it would be found that way to the two men as well, she didn't really care. In truth she was trying to figure out who would have the greatest possibility of bringing the little visual into reality and wondering if it'd be possible for her to even aid in such a thing. She really was just incorrigible some days.

"Consider that a challenge then my dear." His voice was full of playfulness as he began to loosen up after having already taken care of some business. It was a party after all. "Your mission if you choose to accept it is to host a party at our Penthouse on Drogheda. And a while a Moff might be pushing it, I'll settle for seeing you get some high ranking official or another to dance on a table with a lampshade on their head."

He laughed lightly at the idea himself before downing the rest of the wine in his glass. Turning to Roger, he stuck out his hand again to shake his.

"Mr. Phillip's it was a pleasure to meet you, and look forward to speaking with you in the future. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my beautiful date inside to enjoy some more of this wonderful wine." He paused again and looked at Emelie. "And maybe a dance or two. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

With that Xi held out his arm for Emelie to slide her's through before leading her back inside.

[Vince]

For a moment, Trix looked blank. Finally, noticing that his mouth was open, he blinked and looked down, searching for something to say and not being very subtle about it.

"I..." he paused, still at a loss for words.

"Hunh. It does certainly seem that this night hasn't been as relaxing as it should be," he said, a slightly tentative smile on his face again, almost like he was asking Adelaide if he could. "And, I'm sorry there seems to be so much anger between you two."

To tell the truth, Trix was feeling a little out of his depth, having not expected anything like this.

[Rekoj]

"jI'd betterrr mjingle now,"

"Be good." He advised, hoping the subtle hint of a not so genuine smile would leave its print as Sasseeri took her leave.

Rekoj turned back to Lymia. "Devil?" The tip of his tongue sat perched against the back of his front teeth as he lingered on the word, tasting it with an eventual lick of his lips.

"Oh not I." His neck shrunk into his shoulders innocently as he could manage. "Perhaps you have me confused with your horned counter part at the card table?"

"And jealous? Surely you humor me. With a shiny dress like that you no doubt play the lure to many of these fish eyed creatures." The Inquisitors eyes wandered, but not to the points of interest on the femme fatal in front of him. Instead, he found himself scanning the party for someone in particular that his boss had asked him to inquire upon. But where was she...?

Ah. There she is, the indomitable Judge Corta, and looking right at us how tempting. The Inquisitor's training took control as he surveyed the woman's companions. It was at that moment he caught something truly attention worthy. Corta's assistant, Adelaide Kasperian, her image was taken when she entered the citadel with the Judge previously. Rekoj had taken a moment to investigate the pair after he received his special little task. Her face held drawn to some point, a twitch in her lip and a furrowing brow. See something upsetting do you? The Inquisitor attempted to track her line of sight but caught nothing save a pile of fancy nobles chortling like Tol'orthian piglets in mud.

"I feel a need to investigate." Rekoj's eyebrow arched when he noticed he spoke allowed, snapping his attention back to Lymia. "If you will excuse me a moment. I will endure to rejoin you shortly."

With a saunter that appeared like something of a cross between a drunken stumble and a slick dance move he dodged and weaved through the party guests. Catching various looks of surprise, a few gasps, and even a grope or two against a few of the more delicious women he past until he arrived at the quartet, comprising the judge.

To the judges left was what appeared to be a well adorned admiral. Across from him there was another man who struck Rekoj as being familiar until the spark of recognition illuminated the memory.

"I have come to steal your women. Excuse us one moment. OH..." Rekoj slid gracefully between Trix and Adelaide, leaning close to the holo stars ear as he whispered using most quivering voice he could muster, "I love your moooooovies...."

With that, Rekoj turned, slipping an arm around the hips of both Adelaide and Corta leading his prizes away toward the dance floor. The judge tried to dig her heels into the floor in protest but a gentle squeeze from Rekoj threw her off balance and closer into his chest.

"Madam Judge Corta, your name lays on many lips in the citadel these days. Especially mine..." Rekoj arched his neck planting a soft kiss on the Judge's cheek. A tactic more to hide his lips from prying eyes he whispered, "I believe I can help you."

[Old Man Russard]

Kazaar excused himself from th'chat with th'V'al Counises'n tried t'disappear even further into th'outside crowd.


"Where do you think you're going?"

The Old Man pinned Kazaar with his eyes as the ex-bounty hunter tried to slink past unnoticed.

"Come over here" he said, gesturing with his hand, "And bring me something to drink -- not something sissie either."

Kazaar thought about it for the briefest moment, clearly preferring to continue on out the door, but instead humored the Elder Russard, making a detour to the bar and selecting a bottle of bourbon to bring over with him.

"Thats more like it" Jason said approvingly as Kazaar poured.

"She's bound to hate you, y'know" the Old Man said, watching the the amber liquid splash into the glass neatly. "You're an idiot if you expected otherwise"

Kazaar lifted his gaze to Adelaide, who had been joined by yet another frackin' Imperial. They're like the frackin plague..

"In fact," Jason continued, "You deserve it, leaving her like you did, shunning her when she needed somebody to buffet the loss of Bren. Just what kind of a moron are you, anyway? Dont answer that, no need." The Old Man sipped the bourbon and exhaled appreciatively.
"Anyway, she's gonna hate you a lot worse before she ever gets around to forgiving you. Take it like a man for krasst sake."

Russard watched Kazaar keenly, noting the twitch at the man's temple and the compressing of his lips.

"You had a chance to speak with Valten?" he asked, off-cuff but as shrewdly as a snake. "You two have a bit of history dont you?"

[Eliessa Corta]

Rekoj's manners were as beligerent as his looks and Eliessa stiffened at the man's audacity as he pulled her toward himself. A stabbing heel to the joint of his foot was only just barely circumvented by his solitious words.

The Judge eyed him sternly as she drew herself some distance between them. She twisted to look at North, signalling that she would deal with this importune fellow herself and for him not to trouble himself.

"You?" She was openly dubious. "How would a little worm like you help me?"

Meanwhile, Adelaide had squirmed herself from Rekoj's hold and was scowling barbed looks at him, the Inquisitor having momentarily taken the focus of her ire away from Kazaar and fully onto himself.

[Vince]

Still a bit off-put by the revelation that Adelaide was married, Trix was unable to react quickly to the Inquisitor's appearance.

But he did react to the Inquisitor's words to him, grimacing subtly as if the Inquisitor's very breath was somehow tainted, and watching him walk off with both Adelaide and Judge Corta. With a quick glance to the Commodore North, He began to make his way to the three, hopefully to extricate the ladies from the Inquisitor's grasp.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Anyway, she's gonna hate you a lot worse before she ever gets around to forgiving you. Take it like a man for krasst sake."

Russard watched Kazaar keenly, noting the twitch at the man's temple and the compressing of his lips.

"You had a chance to speak with Valten?" he asked, off-cuff but as shrewdly as a snake. "You two have a bit of history dont you?"

"Old Man..." Kazaar scowled. "I left 'er for th'same reason she left me. Keeps 'er safe f'the most part. If she'd been smart she woulda shacked up with' someone else. 'Sides, way ya boy was pinin' f'Delly, I'm frackin' surprised he ain't tried t'ask 'er out."

Kazaar's face was dark an' th'bourbon burned hard. Just th'way he liked it. "As f'Valten'n me...only history I have with 'im is o'damn hospital meetin' while th'Kid was recoverin'. Outside o'that, I ain't never seen 'em.

"Why...want me t'frackin ask him if he's interested in Delly?"

[Travis North]

A few hurried steps and Travis had caught up to Trix just before the young man pursued his quarry into the crowd. Planting a hand firmly on his shoulder Travis stopped and turned him about face.

"Let him go, for now. We'll get him back for that stunt later on. Now, I've no idea what he said to you, but I'm guessing it got to you" Travis said pointedly. "You should remember that's why he said it. These Inquisitor types enjoy using mind games to manipulate the people around them to their own ends."

Travis released Trix hoping he wouldn't continue the chase, and to allow himself to re-adjust his own attire, which had skewed itself slightly in his quickened pace.

[Karl Valten]

Valten deposited his empty glass on the tray of a passing server, swapping it for a fresh Emerald. The dark green wine hid the Grand Inquisitor’s cruel grin as Tarruurri waved off his comment and defended her specie’s culture.

The alcohol was getting to her, despite her insistence to the contrary. Such a gross misinterpretation of the true meaning behind his word. Not good detective work at all.

Or perhaps she wasn’t as skilled as Karl had thought. Though it was improbable as a female alien would never have gotten to her position if she didn’t excel in her line of work and had the back-bone to put up with some severe bantha-dren.

“Interest I could do without. It’s almost as if the position of Grand Inquisitor carries a curse from one to the next. Half of the people you meet turn into dogs groveling at your heels and the other half wants to put a knife in your back. Both of them waste time and energy.

Though there are a few that are genuinely interesting.”

Karl smiled before taking a sip of his drink and followed the Cizerack’s gaze towards Vigo Reeouura. Though he was far more interested in the appearance of Inquisitor Rekoj.

Valten had no for warning of the man’s presence and a few of his actions were slightly more than irritating, but then again so were those of Lymia and Sei’Trem. Karl simply didn’t like surprises.

“Accost: to confront boldly; to approach with a greeting, question, or remark; to solicit for sexual purposes….or so what the scholars tell you. The real definition is whatever you choose it to mean so long as no one can dispute you.”

Catching a glimpse of Jason Russard in the crowd, Valten finished off his third glass of the night.

“I apologize, but I must take my leave to thank our host.” Karl took her arm and bowed. “Perhaps a dance later?”

With that the Grand Inquisitor left Kajeela with some thoughts to mull over and a light kiss on her hand.

[Vince]

Trix sighed and nodded reluctantly, turning to face his commanding officer.

"...Yes. You're right, though I'm not too sure about getting him back," he said, and paused for a moment. "But it wasn't what he said that so much irked me, but that the young woman, the Judge's assistant; she nearly had a fit when she saw the Inquisitors when they entered. I'm a bit worried for her."

He glanced over his shoulder to see where the Inquisitor was with the women, and turned back to the older man, and spoke lowly, counting on the ambient noise in the room to keep this part of the conversation hidden.

"...It's not just her either, Commodore. I do not regret joining the Starfighter Corps, but I joined to protect the Empire and its citizens from the Rebellion. I'm worried that the Rebellion isn't the only organisation that poses a threat to the Empire's stability, and there's not much I can do about that from the cockpit of a starfighter."

[Rekoj]

"Ow."

Rekoj hopped with a hiss from the Judge's subtle attack on his foot. The hag apparently doesn't know an angel when she sees one.

"Calm yourself you old cow. Are you always this receptive to people trying to help you or did I pick just the right time?" He didn't wait for the answer but instead reached out to hook Corta's hips pulling her close for another squeeze. He feigned the enjoyment of groping her aging body while keeping her close so his voice needn't raise above a whisper was actually his true intention. "You mind staying still for a moment less I shout this to the whole party?"

"Word is you are currently investigating the disappearance of several important figures in the Empire. A governor, a Moff, or two, et cetera, this was the reason for your visit at the Citadel was it not?" Again, he didn't wait for the answers he already knew. In truth her reason for visiting the Citadel was not confirmed by the Inquisitor but instead the content regarding her investigation had been flagged by the Citadel itself. Rekoj simply put two and two together.

"I have information and more importantly I have answers. You'll have to excuse the manner of approach but if your not so keenly aware this room has more then its share of Inquisitors and I'm sure they will take offense if I divulge certain trade secrets." He gave a wink and pulled back his unbuttoned collar revealing a solid red tattoo just below his collar bone. At the end of the red strip was the symbol of the Inquisitors. He resettled his shirt hoping the previous look of disdain and doubt would fade from her wrinkling eyes, it appeared only the latter had been consoled. The disdain he could deal with it was only her acknowledgment he required but perhaps she needed proof.

A flick of the Inquisitors wrist produced a small data pad with the width of only two fingers. A tap activated the device illuminating two names while displaying dates, times, locations, and current status displayed lengthwise. Rekoj held the pad discreetly for the Judge to receive.

"This is to bring fact. Two names of certain missing Moffs. Dates of disappearance and their current locations. Interested?"

[Old Man Russard]

"Why...want me t'frackin ask him if he's interested in Delly?"

The Old Man gave him a withering look. Kazaar really was a class-A frellup when it came to personality.

He looked away, commenting somewhat cryptically, "Id have thought he'd be more interested in you actually, Mister Kazaar"

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Adelaide instinctively did not like this Rekoj fellow, he was too forward for her tastes and the way he was man-handling the Judge, she wouldnt be surprised if ol' Corta arranged for him to have some kind of accident after the party tonight.

It was with a bit of a shock that Adelaide realised the degree of coldness that the idea presented itself. Unsettling, even as disdainful as this fellow was. What the heck was happening to her? Who was she these days? She slipped a glance over to Trix. If he only knew who she really was, what she'd done, she doubted he'd even spare her a polite stare.

Adelaide tried to tune into what Rekoj was saying to Eliessa, but he had half turned his back to her, making it difficult to hear. Whatever it was, however, it looked like it had piqued the Judge's interest enough for her to take him seriously.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar snorted in amusement at Russard's comment. "Please. Valten's too busy makin' nice with th'Empress t'give o'frack 'bout me. 'Less he wants t'hire me. An' ain't interested in Imp jobs."

He cut off th'Old Man before he could make o'comment. "Those guys never give ya o'straight frackin' answer. Always, 'go take this guy out', but then ya find out the target is th'kid o'some frackin' businessman who they want t'be head o'their RN-frackin'-D department. Ain't how I like operatin'. Rather know who I'm gonna take out than go after th'fringes.

"Or 'least like goin' after fringes who'll put up o'decent frackin' fight."

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Tarruurri watched the departing form of the Grand Inquisitor as he cut an effortless path through the crowd, a contented flush rising from the placed kissed on her hand and on up through her arm. A dance? Perhaps. She was sure there were much less pleasant fates one could suffer at the hands of the head of the Inquisitoriate.

This wasn't such a bad party afterall.

[Jason Russard]

The Empress' attention had been stolen quite wholly and literally from her host and Jason tried to fight the embarressed awkwardness that washed over him as she failed to respond to his concern. Looking about, he saw Valten making his way toward him, which brought some relief to his bruised ego although that could be a double-edged sword in itself. No telling what the reason Valten had for seeking him out. This party was even more taxing on his nerves than he had imagined it would be.

"Inquisitor!" Jason greeted warmly as Karl drew near, "Good to see you - and under such better circumstances than before. You are well, I trust?"

[Eliessa Corta]

Eliessa continued to eye Rekoj imperiously, despite his discreetly revealed tattoo insignia. She pointedly peeled his fingers from her hip.

"Who sent you?" she demanded, her tone acidic. "Was it Atrapes?"

She would not have put it past Rossos to try something like this, it was not the first time she had been offered a datapad full of Inquisitoriate 'facts' with the expectation that she tow the party line. It was no secret that as head of the Judiciary, Corta was well within her rights to investigate the recent disappearances of certain Moffs. What was lesser known was that her suspicions lay right at the feet of the very 'protectors' of the Empire, the Inquisitoriate, and that she did not trust them as far as she might throw one of them. The scathing look she pinned Rekoj with inclined that she might just like to try her luck doing such a thing at the present moment.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" she hissed lowly. "If someone within the Inquisitoriate was wanting to pass me real information, they would not attempt it right under the noses of the Grand Inquisitor and the Empress herself. My god," she exasperated, "do any of you people have a clue?"

What was Atrapes game? She felt certain it was he who'd thought up this little shennanigan to somehow catch her in a trap, although, she was surprised he would use such a crass tool as Rekoj for such work. Was a little finese too much to ask for?

"Im in no mood to play games Mr. What-ever-your-name-is. I think you, or whoever sent you, has seriously miscalculated things. I am very serious about locating these Moffs and the author of their misfortune. You can take that back to your boss, whomever that might be."

[Aree Ankarta]

"Good evening, mother." He emphasized the familial title, adding tension to the word as if to subtly indicate his displeasure at her need to come anywhere near him. "Ny... ah, Aree, this is my mother, Cora. Cora, Aree Ankarta."

He smiled tightly at his mother, then moved the arm which Nya gripped to place a hand on the small of her back, slipping said hand around to the other side and giving her a gentle push forward.

"Why don't you two talk? Get to know one another. I've some business to attend to." And with that, he left them.

The almost slip of his tongue - too obviously not an accidental one - made her freeze up once again. What was he playing at?!? Even if this was his ... mother? She nodded at the woman frostily, started to turn around to give him a withering look - when she felt a forceful push from him, propelling her forwards and almost into his mother. What---???

The next moment, her face burning with anger and indignation, she heard him behind her, matter-of-factly announcing that he was leaving her there to take care of his mother.

This was enough!!!!

Anger and resentment were foremost on her mind, inside her heart. She was burning with the desire to yell and scream at him, to do something--- for bringing her to this place, riddled with... with.... inquisitors, of all people --- and yet again, that was also the reason she now had to behave, had to keep herself shut up, tight behind whatever defenses she could safely muster... and then make her angry like this?!?

Could he -somehow - know?

There was only one thing to it - she'd have to leave. Now. Immediately. Before worst came to worst. Before she'd catch anyone's attention. Such a strange mix of anger, and fear. Icy dread trickling down her body like beads of cold sweat. Could they smell fear? It was all over her now, making her tingle with ... excitement?!!

How odd.

The chief emotion still was fear. The chief instinct still was to run. But as she stood there, unconscious that her nostrils were flared and her eyes wild, it somehow began to make room for an odd sort of abandonment to the moment, a strange carelessness born out of the proximity to danger. She'd been on the run from them for almost all her life, and to be caught would - if all stories were true - result in her death, yet here now she was, in close proximity to more than she'd ever seen at any point in time. It was walking the gallows. Mocking the executor.

It was thrilling. More than excitement.

For a moment she simply stood there, torn between two instincts. Not knowing how to feel. Or quite understanding where it came from. But---

She felt like laughing. So she did.

"Hahahaha--"

But then it felt silly again, and she shut her mouth. Looked around, half surprised by her own actions, to check if anyone had noticed. Strange behavior like that, someone might have.

Caran's mother looked oddly sickly.


"Caran,... you--" she began to mutter, but the voice died in a hoarse croak.

Gasping, she snatched at the young woman's arm, instinct forcing her to find something to ground herself on. Totally oblivious to her surroundings, hanging on to his assistant's arm without realising that she was doing so, she simply stood there, her eyes wide open as the first tears started to roll down her cheek.

The woman was clearly sick. Poor thing was shaking. She felt like laughing again, and had to suppress the urge. Caran's mother was making weird little sobbing noises, and people were going to notice.

"Ahh... madame...?" She'd known fully-trained warriors back on Mandalore who didn't have a grip as tight as the one Cora was having on her now. It was taking a few moments to register as pain on her confused nerves, but yes - definitely painful after a few seconds. And she needed to get away. Before this was turning into a scene she could no longer control at all.

"... madame?" she tried again, hoping Cora would respond.

[Rekoj]

"Do you take me for an idiot?"
I'm beginning to, Rekoj thought sourly, as he let his eyes glaze in reaction to her less then eloquent verbal battering.

"I think its you who has miscalculated things." Any charming humor had vaporized from his voice leaving his features stern and serious. "But you are right about one thing. Such an event like this knows security that most military installations aspire to match. Security that prevents one from being bugged or followed past those fabulous grand doors."

Judge Corta's eyes didn't flinch at the revelation. Surely a woman such as herself would know full well the Inquisitorious had her under surveillance since she began her investigation. To meet her in any other setting without drawing suspicion would be impossible. Best of all who would be mad enough to attempt such a rebellious affair under the very noses of a room dotted with Inquisitors.

"How far exactly has your investigation proceeded? Any closer to homing in on the locations of the missing people on your list then you were a week ago? A month ago?" Corta moved to speak, likely to defend her position with the bland response of non disclosure on an open investigation but the Inquisitor reached over taking Adelaide by the hand and pulled her into the conversation cutting the good judge off. "I also don't appreciate being ridiculed when I'm risking my life. This is a leap of faith on our part as much as it is for you, Judge."

"Treat me with suspicion. Treat my subversive ways with disgust by all means, it makes for a better show, but do not dismiss the intentions of those who are providing this information." He then took Adelaides hand in his and lightly kissed the back of it. At the same time he had slipped the tiny data pad into her palm while using it as a cover for his lips in case anyone with eyes keen enough was trying to read them.

"Not all of us are pleased with the way things are being run in the Inquisitorious. In the interests of justice this is yours to do with as you wish. Now Adelaide Kasperian, if you would be so kind as to slap me I will take my leave."

[Miranda Tarkin]

The Empress' attention had been stolen quite wholly and literally from her host and Jason tried to fight the embarressed awkwardness that washed over him as she failed to respond to his concern. Looking about, he saw Valten making his way toward him, which brought some relief to his bruised ego although that could be a double-edged sword in itself. No telling what the reason Valten had for seeking him out. This party was even more taxing on his nerves than he had imagined it would be.

"Inquisitor!" Jason greeted warmly as Karl drew near, "Good to see you - and under such better circumstances than before. You are well, I trust?"

The mentioning of Valten's name broke the Empress from her musings and brought her back to the party. Russard looked frazzled by everything going on this evening, especially with her unannounced presence. Returning to her party face, one of polite amusement, Tarkin situated herself with Russard and greeted the High Inquisitor as well. "Greetings Inquisitor Valten. It is a pleasure to see you tonight."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal k'Vik had been on autopilot. She'd been responding with polite small talk, and kept to herself mostly after disengaging with the towering Lykaios. She drifted through the party. Estelle had duty to tend to as a member of the host family, and Kazaar was Kazaar. And there was that damnable Christobal. It took focus to not pout at the thought of him. He was sweeping Estelle off her feet and... and Milivikal wasn't. Jealousy aside, there was something fake about Christobal. What was his angle? Mili looked up to stop her face from agreeing with gravity, and pushed the thoughts away. She busied herself with the sounds and sights of the room.

She bumped into a woman attached to a man as they rounded a corner. Her hair was brown, but dyed. Strange. Judging from her figure, it was not a coincidence. This woman was at least part Zeltron. The trio nearly toppled over, but a combination of Mili's Jedi reflexes, Xavier's strength and Emilie's grace prevented a three person tumble to the floor.

A quick glance across their faces showed more relief and surprise than anger.

"I am terribly sorry." Milivikal said after they untangled from each other. Her voice was light, pleasant, but distinctively apologetic.

[Emelie Shadowstar]

It always seemed funny to Emelie how people often bumped into each other. If life had treated her different she may have been one to believe it was all on account of fate or 'the will of the universe' or whatever odd nonsense others would attribute such events to. Emelie on the other hand... well, she left it all more to dumb luck and random chance. After all, the collision probably wouldn't have happened if she'd been paying more attention, if she wasn't already lost with Xavier's proposition of a dance or two. She'd been considering speaking what was running through her head 'Since when do YOU dance?' but there was that stubborn side that would see it as a win on his part and damn it all, she let him win more often than she thought was reasonable.

So the smile offered to Milivikal was rather genuine, since aside from interrupting the promise of more alcohol, the woman had saved Emelie the rather coy game of prying information out of her partner without letting him on to how much it actually intrigued her. It was a welcome interruption to her current train of thought. And then it struck her... the words spoken by the other woman hadn't had that forced hollowness that so-called polite society called for in that sort of instance, but rather there was an authenticity there that was to be noted, if not marginally respected given the whole of the situation.

Brushing one of the loose strands of hair from in front of her eyes, Emelie let a small laugh leave her.

"No worries, happens all the time at things like this. One too many and you never know where your feet will lead you...even if you aren't drinking. I think they must pump it into the air at places like this. Certainly would account for half the military in this room having not attempted to off half the politicians. Of course I can think of far better substances they could use."

She paused just long enough to smirk and cast a playful glance at Xavier.

"Of course that might start making things a bit too interesting."

[Vince]

Rekoj kissing Adelaide's hand was going too far, in his opinion. He stalked toward the group, ignoring anything that North might have said. He could very well see the woman didn't want anything to do with him, so why was he continuing to force his presence upon them?

“Pardon me,” Trix said, taking Adelaide's hand gently from Rekoj's. “You must be aware that neither of these ladies much enjoys your company; and I do believe your business with them is finished, so please, be on your way.”

He was actually quite proud of himself. After interposing himself between the Inquisitor and Adelaide he'd remembered that this man was an Inquisitor, and he'd nearly lost his nerve. Only the fact that he'd started this and so must finish it (as well as being watched by both the Judge—an off-putting woman, that one—and Adelaide) kept him from stuttering under the man's very amused eyes.

[Xavier Synik]

Xavier gave Emelie a quick look. He knew she was kidding, but considering the fact that one never knew exactly who was who in the Empire, he was aware that the mention of elicit narcotics could draw unwanted attention if it caught the ear of someone who didn't take it as the joke that it was.

Aside from the look however he smiled, and looked at the woman who had just bumped into them. It didn't take him long for his experience to size up a few things about her, the least of which was how uncomfortable the woman looked.

It took all of his self control to keep the smirk that was pulling at his lips from actually forming. It was more then a little humourous to him that Emelie would literally run into someone as uncomfortable in the current surroundings as herself.

Extending his hand to the woman, breaking the brief silence since Emelie had spoken.

"Xavier..."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Adelaide drew her hand gingerly from Trix's. Of course it was to secret away the datapad Rekoj had slipped her, but her reaction was also something much more than that. It was self-preservation.

The contact, the symbolic closeness of Trix's gallant gesture made Del shrink from the touch. The kiss from Rekoj was nothing, it was meant as nothing - just a vehicle to transfer an item into her safekeeping and so it did not have the same effect on her as the protective maneuver Trix had made. She chided herself for being waaaay too sensitive, yet Adelaide could not ignore her own instincts. She couldn't allow any closeness, with anyone. They'd know what she'd done..Somehow, they'd know.

[Eliessa Corta]

Corta seized the opportunity Idalix had created and turned her back rudely on Rekoj, threading her arm through Adelaide's and allowing the girl to pass her the datapad as they strolled away.

"Sterlingly done" she praised Trix, turning a smile on him for the first time. "Those Imperial fellows can be such boors" she said, "We are well rescued."

Inwardly, Corta was revising her initial take on the vulgar Rekoj and his purpose in his approaching her. Who was it that had sent him? If not Atrapes, then was there some other player Eliessa had not reckoned on? Obviously.

The party suddenly had become cloying. There was information to be had and though she held it in her own hand, she would not dare look at it here. She ventured a glance behind her and caught a glinting smirk from Rekoj. He knew she was revising her opinion of him, even now.

Trix was saying something, but Corta was not paying him any mind. "Oh look," she said, breaking from their company, "..there's---" and walked off without actually saying 'who'.

[Old Man Russard]

Kazaar snorted in amusement at Russard's comment. "Please. Valten's too busy makin' nice with th'Empress t'give o'frack 'bout me. 'Less he wants t'hire me. An' ain't interested in Imp jobs."

He cut off th'Old Man before he could make o'comment. "Those guys never give ya o'straight frackin' answer. Always, 'go take this guy out', but then ya find out the target is th'kid o'some frackin' businessman who they want t'be head o'their RN-frackin'-D department. Ain't how I like operatin'. Rather know who I'm gonna take out than go after th'fringes.

"Or 'least like goin' after fringes who'll put up o'decent frackin' fight."

The Old Man responded with an arched brow. Kazaar was really worked up tonight for some reason. Jason couldn't put his finger on what was really making him so manic, but it gave him pause for thought.

He'd always thought Aurelias on the total brink at the best of times, it wouldn't take much to light the man's fuse in any situation. How he and his grand-daughter remained so close was quite beyond him.

[Karl Valten]

Valten smiled brightly as he came upon the party’s host. “Mr. Russard! Very well, very well, indeed. And please, just Karl, no need for formalities. As a guest in your home, I should be the one paying respect.”

The Grand Inquisitor vigorously shook Jason’s hand. Energy just seemed to radiate off of Karl and replenish some of Russard’s energy. Spying Estelle in deep in conversation with Inquisitor Lykaios, Valten nodded in their direction.

“I see that your daughter has made a splendid recovery. I’m happy to announce that the pirates responsible have been dealt with. Their leaders won’t see daylight for quite some time for their crimes. It’s so unfortunate that there are those who prey on others when the galaxy offers so much.”

The appearance of Empress Tarkin temporarily halted the conversation as Valten bowed deeply.

“Your Highness, the pleasure is mine. My sincerest apologies that I was unable to attend your wedding, I’m ashamed that I missed that splendid occasion. Congratulations to you and your husband.”

[Sarah Lymia]

“Honestly….” Sarah huffed as Rekoj went over to schmuse with Corta. What the hell did he have to investigate with the Judge? Investigate, sure, whatever. She’d never get these Coruscanti Inquisitors, much better out on Eriadau.

Her eyes wandered over to Reeouurra disappearing off into the crowd and her mind drifted back to previous thoughts. Everyone here had their own agenda; all of the Inquisitors, Rekoj included, especially. He was a clever weasel and played people excellently, a very interesting guy.

Glancing around she found herself without a dancing partner as the music started up again. Damn was she bored. Glancing back to Reeouurra, a thought crossed her mind. To hell with Rekoj, she’d do some of her own investigation to sate her wandering mind.

“Interesting catch with Rekoj. Don’t know if he quite fits you, Ms. Reeouurra. To each our own. Business is good I hope?”

Despite being a head of a crime syndicate, the cizerack did have many legal endeavours. In fact is wasn’t too long ago that the Devaronian Inquisitor, Sei’Trem, had helped repel a piracy attempt on one of her luxury cruise liners while working a different job.

[Vince]

Trix sighed in relief that the confrontation was over, but nodded and smiled at the Judge, who seemed preoccupied. With a weak excuse, she left them, and Trix couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Does she do that often?” he asked Adelaide, noting that she seemed a bit put off.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"Does who, do what?"

Adelaide's response was vague and a little insulting to Trix as she had been clearly distracted. Belatedly, Del herself realised her lapse in manners and sought to rectify things. "Oh, the Judge? Dont mind her" she said lightly, "I actually think she likes you. She can be rather cold with new acquaintances, its nothing personal."

This indeed was true. Corta had a streak of elitist in her veins and would turn the sentiment off and on when the situation called for it. It was a convenient and fail-safe mode of manueverability that served her very well at such gatherings as this evening. To quote the Judge, 'One could just ignore the lesser mortals when they were troublesome.'

From somewhere about the hall came a soft chime, like the 'time to be seated' bells one heard at theatres and opera's etc. Apparently, dinner was served and everyone was being nudged tactfully to come to table.

"Good, Im starved" Adelaide said with more enthusiasm than she'd shown all night. For her, it was a more comfortable arrangement to sit and eat than socially floundering in front of Trix like she was. If he asked any awkward questions, she could just change the subject and ask him to pass the mustard, instead.

[Jason Russard]

The company in general moved to take their seats at the tables, the pride of place set of course for Empress Tarkin and her entourage, but yet with a sprinkling of interesting personalities among her company to ensure engaging and entertaining conversation. Roger had thought of everything.

Each place setting had a name card for the guests and yet it was not unexpected that certain persons might take it upon themselves to rearrange them to suit their own will. These individuals did not disappoint.

Rekoj (big surprise) put his name between the beautiful Sanya Tagge and Mili k'Vik, moving Lykios to sit down beside Ms Taataani Meorrrei. Yeart Quenn tried to switch his place with Xavier so that he was beside Emelie, to which Synik promptly switched it back again, adding a threatening glare for good measure. Sasseeri seemed quite content with her place between Caran V'al Counis and Aurelias Kazaar, and Jason imagined he even heard her purring as he passed behind them. Aree Ankarta, on Caran's other side however, kept a decidedly cool eye on Miss Reeouurra.

All in all, it was an interesting collection of souls who lifted their glasses, first to toast the new Empress, followed shortly by a general salute to the future of the Galaxy as well as for the continued prosperity of the evening's Hosts.

[Sanya Tagge]

Time away from the party and its oppressive atmosphere of well-wishing had given Sanya Tagge the chance to regain some of her buoyancy. She smiled coolly as she was ushered to her seat, noting with a quick glance of sharp eyes that precise order within which the guests had been arranged. Cael Bathala, her companion for the evening, was directed almost entirely in the opposite direction to Sanya herself, who found herself rubbing elbows with a man whose face she did not recognise. Naturally, such anonymity could mean only one thing: he was an agent of the Inquisitorious. In spite of the tightening knot in her stomach, Sanya met his eyes with a smile as she joined in the toast that was sweeping throughout the party.

“Long live the Empire.”

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Unhappy that her place was so far removed from the handsome Valten, Kajeela took a few moments before realising she was seated at the table of the Empress herself, albeit at the opposite end from her Highness.

She supposed she should be flattered, although, it was probably a result of the judicious thought of the Russard planners - the ICPD representative was not likely to say anything fubar-ish in her esteemed company, even if she was a Cizerack.

Or, it could be she was expected to keep Ms Meorrrei engaged (and thus in line), which was faulted reasoning, really - North, Santiago, Salem and Lykaios would be much more of interest to her and no doubt will occupy much of the elder felinoids attention.

However, with everyone being seated, Tarruuri had a clear view of the other guests and to her delight recognised and old frrjiend..

"Aurrreljiasss" she purred aloud as she, too, raised her glass to join in the toasts.



Down from her, Judge Corta heard her remark and lifted narrowed eyes, curiously locking on to the back of Kazaar's head. He was seated just one place away from Adelaide and her stare hardened.

Kajeela, who's job it was to read people, saw in that one unguarded look a whole world of hurt for her bounty hunter friend.

"What an jinterrressstjing companjy we have!" she declared merrily and drank down the sparkling liquid.

[Karl Valten]

Slightly perturbed that his conversation with the Empress and host was cut short, Valten followed lost himself in the tide of coruscanti elite to the dining hall.

The Grand Inquisitor noted with amusement that even in this hive of so-called well-to-doers the most prestigious were reserved space amongst a pair of tables separate from the rest.

And how quaint that he be seated next to the esteemed Minister of Truth. Valten returned her smile and raised his glass in response to her toast.

"Gloria Imperium." As the guests lowered their drinks in unison, the Grand Inquisitor left a final toast hanging in the air. "Veritas Vincit"

A few confused guests mumbled a reply. Those privileged enough to have attended the best schools on Coruscant recognized the obscure High Galactic translation as "Truth Conquers".

[Vince]

“I see,” he grinned, laughing a bit at Adelaide’s enthusiasm for the prospect of food. Come to think of it, he was hungry too.

“So how long have you been working for the good Judge?” Trix asked, settling himself in the chair. He nodded politely to Russard the Elder, who was sitting across from him.

[Yeart Quenn]

“Excellent, my aides shall be getting in contact with you soon.”

The smile turned warm and his eyes lightened somewhat, but it was still nearly impossible to read the Grand Inquisitor, the man had such impeccable control over his body language it was almost frightening.

“You will be compensated of course, we look forward to doing business with you. Do enjoy the rest of the party.”

Valten slightly lowered his head in a barely discernable bow, and took his leave turning towards the Cizerack.

“Shall we, Ms. Tarrurri?”

And with that the Inquisitor and Detective disappeared from Quenn’s sight.

Exactly how he'd spent the last ten minutes or so, the Moff had no clear recollection of. He been all angry embarassment just then - angry at himself more than anyone else yet trying to pass it off as his utter annoyance with this Valten character. When the chime sounded to call them all to be seated, he found himself standing at the side of the hall, opposite an extremely obese old woman with a several folds of chin and a day's worth of stubble on all of them, who was winking at him in a way he didn't find the least bit attractive. Her saggy, wrinkle-skinned breasts almost popped out of her dress which appeared to be at least a size too small for her. At another point in time he might have found something stimulating enough in this, but right this minute he had enough of a sour taste in his mouth from his conversation with the inquisitor that he simply found it disgusting.

Fortunately for him, he was saved from any social gaffe he was about to make, for the woman's eyes lit up when she heard the chime, and, licking her lips, she uttered a hasty excuse and moved off in the direction of the tables now set. He'd been about to tell her to leave him alone, in words these Imperial Center women would probably never have heard before.

As he slowly walked over to the tables himself, he was hoping for a place next to his favorite Minister, but Sanya was right next to Valten - and he wasn't up for another run-in with that man. Instead, the Kuati's eyes came to linger upon a pretty girly with bi-coloured hair that he hadn't noticed before - she was just then taking a seat at the end of Sanya's table. There was a chair free between her and a cranky-looking brown-haired female - even though it was still in Valten's vicinity, it would be tolerable between those two; he could keep an eye on Sanya, too.

So he tried to edge his way into the gap between the two women, only to find himself told that this wasn't his place according to the sitting arrangements. The guy telling him this was someone he'd seen talking to one of the Russards' before, so he admitted defeat.

He had next to no social standing on this planet, apart from being a Moff of the Empire, and it would not do to irritate his host. It had been complicated enough to get an invitation, and his intention was to stay on the "good" side of things, no matter how difficult or unlike his character that was. He was here for one thing only, and that was to impress Sanya. Even if the presence of inquisitors and a stud at her side made this a bit difficult: he'd have to outdo himself this time if he really wanted her.

With a benevolent smile for the man who'd told him to leave his seat, he walked off, and around the table in search for the place with his name on it - hoping it would not be right next to Valten.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"Not long" Adelaide answered vaguely, gesturing to the server to fill her glass to the brim before he moved on to the next place setting. She had swallowed half of it by the time Aurelias took his seat on the other side of Trix.

The Kazaar's exchanged a loaded stare and then Adelaide turned to focus fully on Trix.

"It's something I never saw myself doing, working for the Judge, but so far Ive managed not to make a complete mess of things. I mostly run errands.." She trailed off into another hearty gulping of wine.

[Caran V'al Counis]

Eventually, Caran had relented. He was certain he had seen enough of what he needed to see and had retrieved his assistant from the company of his darling mother just in time for the call to dinner to be sounded, having excused himself from Aurelias et al. Aree was somewhere between shaken and utterly displeased with him, but after some low-voiced utterings to remind her of where they were and what was expected for her own good and his own projected image, she seemed to to sober up from her disposition and go along with him, a hand hooked just forward of his elbow as they followed to find their seating placards. Image, indeed.

He was a small switch relieved to find that he had been seated with her and not with Cora, though he still tended to appreciate Getar's company in some ways. They were seated together at the other of two tables set for this elite upper crust that he had not chosen to be a part of, rather, that it was chosen for him by way of his life's beginning.

When they found themselves seated in the designated space (with Caran displaying gentlemanly accord and seating his 'guest' before seating himself), the son of Cora and Getar V'al Counis took in his surroundings of people he had been rubbing shoulders with the entire evening thus far. For the most part, he found himself familiar with a reasonable percentage of the table's occupants and ultimately aware of some of the discomfort the seating arrangements might cause Aree. Interesting time for observations, but thoughts that were dashed for the time being as Inquisitor Valten proposed a toast, to which Caran raised his glass.

"Vincit Omnia Veritas." He said in reply, then lowered his glass at the end and tipped a small nod to Valten, seeing the Minister of Truth, Sanya Tagge, seated within his field of vision beside the Inquisitor. Amusing, all things considered (though he didn't quite know what to make of having Sasseeri seated on his right. From the looks of Aree, he found that it might best not to make anything of it at all. Maybe). "For it is not enough to know merely the force of truth but the reach of it, Inquisitor Valten."

[Old Man Russard]

The Old Man looked in turn from Kazaar to Trix to Adelaide - picking up immediately on the burgeoning tension between the two ex-spouses and the witless big-screen star stuck in the middle of it, and then looked to the Moff's Wife chatting like a cricket to no one in particular beside him. He managed to stiffle a groan behind hands he ran up and down his face in an attempt to fortify himself. Then, lifting his glass, he absently mumbled "Veritis veri....(whatever it was)" along with the other guests. If he lived through the next hour, he was going to bludgeon Roger Phillips to death when this party was over.

The seat beside him was still empty. Jason prayed the gods to have pity on him and send him someone not-insane to take the empty place beside him.

[Getar V'al Counis]

Getar was aware that people - and even his wife - thought him unobservant, neglectful of anything that they perceived he had no interest in. That, however, was not the case - far from it, rather. He'd simply become selective in the things he observed. And he did not make any show of it; it was far more useful to remain unobtrusive, to observe without seeming to do so. Even his own wife was fooled by it.

He'd noticed something was amiss with Cora once his own moment of weakness had passed. This wasn't a good time for sentimentality. Her eyes, even across the room, were locked on Caran, so this was probably something more about the disagreement they were having. Whatever it was; when it came to matters between the two of them, he'd developed blind eyes and deaf ears, for as long as he had to. They'd had some argument which was making Cora very downcast lately, whereas Caran seemed positively chipper. What had he done to her to reduce her to tears?

He was debating with himself whether he should say something when the chime called them to be seated. Caran at once turned around and walked back to the other side of the room - and Getar followed him, hoping to cut any scene short. He was holding his breath without realising it, unsure what he might overhear as they'd confront each other again, yet Caran simply took his assistant by the hand and pulled her away. The assistant didn't look so well, either.

Cora was left standing by herself, a picture of misery. He was starting to get an uneasy feeling about this one, but kept on hoping it wasn't about the boy's "origins".

"Come, my dear, I'll get us seated."

He gently took her under one elbow and guided her over to the table, where a waiter showed them to their seats. He'd hoped they'd be next to each other, but they found a woman sitting between them. He'd seen her before - she'd entered the hall with the rest of the Inquisitors. This wouldn't do!

He felt his wife react to something, and figured it was the sight of the female inquisitor, and knew he had to get her away from her. Cora wasn't skittish around inquisitors usually, playing her part well, but tonight he knew her nerves couldn't take it. There was only one thing to do...

"Excuse me, madame, would you mind exchanging seats with me? My wife is not feeling so well, I'd like to sit next to her to keep an eye on her."

[Cael Bathala]

Kajeela

It was a relief to be separated from his date from the evening, though Cael couldn't quite stop himself from staring perhaps a moment too long at the feline woman he was now seated alongside. As a swoop-pilot in Team Tagge, Bathala's team mates had been human. His starfighter squadron was also entirely human, as per Imperial regulation. To find not one, but numerous, non-humans sitting at the same table as the Empress herself. Then again, the seating arrangements must have been approved before the party began, to ensure maximum security...

Hedging a smile, Cael turned to look directly at Kajeela. At the beginning of the evening, Sanya Tagge had reminded Cael that he shouldn't speak unless spoken to, because there was very little anyone at this party would want to hear from a pilot. Perhaps she was right, but a combination of nerves and wine were working against Bathala.

“That's an interesting accent you have there, miss. Very.. exotic. Like something out of the Outer Rim.”

[Gallus Tagge]

Sharing a smile with his wife as he drew out her chair, Gallus Tagge made certain that the guests at both tables were seated comfortably before he took his own place. As he sat, his hand fell naturally into place over Miranda's. This evening was, perhaps more than anything, for her. It was a celebration of what she had achieved and what everyone expected her to achieve in the future. Seeing such a diverse group of people gathered together, all in the name of toasting to her accomplishments, was inspiring and a testament to the far-reaching appeal she had garnered.

“I wish your grandfather could be here today to see this.”

Leaning toward Miranda, the Baron spoken in a hushed voice and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“He would be so proud, just as I am.”

[Sarah Lymia]

"Excuse me, Madame, would you mind exchanging seats with me? My wife is not feeling so well, I'd like to sit next to her to keep an eye on her."

“Wha….” Sarah found herself distracted as she traced the path of Sasseeri and Rekoj. The Inquisitor was slightly miffed that every time she tried to pin someone interesting down they seemed to disappear before she had a chance to so much as open her mouth.

Distracted enough that she momentarily forgot to pay attention to her surroundings and found herself facing an older gentleman with a blank face.

After a short pause the man’s request finally clicked in her head. “…Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry; I don’t know what came over me.”

Sarah stepped back to offer the seat so he could sit next to his wife. The poor woman was felt like she was in distress. Inquisitor Lymia could feel the emotion rolling off of her through the force. It was a bit disconcerting.

Something about a son? Ah, there, the young man practically wearing a bright smile on his face across from Valten happened to be the focus of the woman’s thoughts. Ah well, not her issue.

Lymia undid the clasp hooking the ornate sword and scabbard to her dress, leaning it against the chair beside her. A moment to straighten out where the shimmering fabric had ruffled….and she promptly found herself face-to-face with the Empress and her husband right across the table.

The Inquisitor almost coughed.

“Highness, it’s an honor.”

[Miranda Tarkin]

Gallus' words resonated deeply inside her, for it was her departed Grandfather and Father convictions and testament to Imperial Order that had molded her into the woman she was today. If only they were alive to see this, indeed, but if they had survived, she would not be sitting here.

And in truth? Miranda would give up the throne to have them back alive today. She turned and gently kissed Gallus upon the cheek, not caring about appearances. "Thank you," she replied softly after the kiss.

“Highness, it’s an honor.”

A soft female voice that was threatening to crack caught Miranda's attention. Gently smiling before the Inquisitor seated across from her, she was rather surprised at how young this one was. She surely had to be one of, if not the youngest, member of the organization.

"Veritas Vincit, Inquisitor. And whom do I have the honor of speaking to?"

[Vince]

Trix was aware of the tension going on between the two people sitting next to him, or more accurately, of the look that Adelaide had shot the man on his left. Trix really didn’t want to know what look the man was shooting his way. And then the look that Russard the Elder gave the three put him even further off kilter. He had no clue really of how to deal with this situation.

So, he would follow Adelaide’s example, and ignore it. Though, not as baldly as she was, he hoped.

“Eh,” he stammered a bit, “Well, errands can be important too, I suppose. Depending on what the errand is, of course.”

It was with relief that he allowed the server to pour some wine into his own glass. He quaffed some – not as much as Adelaide, perhaps, but still quite a bit – and set the drink down.

“Of course, I never saw myself becoming a fighter pilot either,” he said, continuing the conversation. “But I think running errands for the Judge might be at times just as harrowing as piloting a starfighter, in its own way.”

[Jakys Sei'trem]

Volume grew near the table end opposite of the Empress. An slightly rambunctious company, those that disappeared from the party to try their luck at cards, trotted in from the open door with more than a little bit of alcohol in their systems. Chatting it up in his odd speech, the Devaronian Inquisitor seemed to be the center of attention…or almost the source of the merriment to be more accurate...in the midst of an almost all-human crowd. Jaky’s himself, dashing in the earth-tone colors of his silk suit, wore a bright smile with each arm around the waist of an attractive young courtier.<o>

</o> Spying his seat, the alien spun the lovely women around, leaving each with a kiss on the hand and bidding a fair well to his new-found entourage. Several thanks for the card game and handshakes drifted his direction and the girls lingered a moment giggling to themselves as the crowd reluctantly dispersed to find their own seats.<o>

</o> Inquisitor Sei’Trem practically floated to his own chair. Jakys gave Cael a hearty thump on the shoulder and set his own weapon on the end of the table as he plopped down in the chair. “ N’joyin ye’selves ladies an’ gents?”

And seating themselves right across from him were none other than Mr. Roger Philips and Mr. Jason Russard, the hosts of the party themselves.

“M’ster Russard! Fantastic party, ‘solutely fantastic.” After a second, the Devaronian smacked himself in the horns and extended an arm across the table to shake the man’s hand. “ Ah, ‘pologies for m’rudeness. M’name s’Jayks Sei’Trem.”

[Jason Russard]

Jason half-rose from his chair in order to extend his hand across the table to meet Jakys' own in greeting.

"Hello Mr. Sei'trem, Im glad you are having a nice time"

Ever the polite host, Russard took in Cael and Kajeela with a welcome smile also, including them in hopes they had similar sentiment. "It is wonderful to see such a representation from the galaxy here in celebration."

If Jason was disappointed to see that Adelaide was seated at the other table so close to her ex and right beside the glamorous Idalix, he hid it well and appeared quite content amongst his given company.

He chanced a quick look to the end of the table to reassure himself that the Empress and her husband were comfortable and their smiles indicated it to be so. The Judge was not in her seat, it having been taken by another of the Inquisitoriate, one of Valten's company, whom was now chatting easily with the Empress. Corta had, however, inserted herself some place else already and seemed unperturbed by the switch.

Jason adjusted his tie-clip and flattened his tie trimly against his starched white shirt, then he eased his back against his chair and settled himself.

"Mr Bathala, I hope you dont feel too imposed upon by being separated from your date this evening. Is it too much for us to hope you will regale us with some of your swoop team racing exploits?

[Eliessa Corta]

Eliessa had known Aurelias Kazaar would be at this evenings event, but she had yet to pinpoint who exactly he was. Thanks to the felinoid detective, she had him.

The Judge had only bits and peices to go on when putting the Kazaar history together. Old Man Russard had not said much and Adelaide had said even less. It was this very fact that spoke such volumes to Eliessa. That, and the terrible state Adelaide had arrived into the Judge's care had led Corta to form a very pre-conceived and not very high opinion of this former bounty hunter-come body guard.

Bah, she could tell the man was trouble even from this distance, and even then just by staring at the back of his head. He just looked bad news. How did a sweet thing like Adelaide ever fall for such a scoundrel?

Sitting waaaay over this part of the party simply would not do - how was she to fillay him from this distance? Corta removed herself from her chair and with an excuse to say hello to the Old Man, determined to atleast eyeball this Kazaar fellow face to face.

Bending down beside Jason the Elder, Eliessa gave him a peck on the cheek, "Good party, Jason" she said with a smile, then lifting her eyes, the smile evaporated as her gaze settled onto Aurelias. Corta noticed at that same moment also the Inquisitor, Sarah Lymia, had taken her own recently vacated place. Holding that as more than convenient, Eliessa took Sarah's place and greeted everyone at the table.

"Looks like Im to be joining you all"

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela

It was a relief to be separated from his date from the evening, though Cael couldn't quite stop himself from staring perhaps a moment too long at the feline woman he was now seated alongside. As a swoop-pilot in Team Tagge, Bathala's team mates had been human. His starfighter squadron was also entirely human, as per Imperial regulation. To find not one, but numerous, non-humans sitting at the same table as the Empress herself. Then again, the seating arrangements must have been approved before the party began, to ensure maximum security...

Hedging a smile, Cael turned to look directly at Kajeela. At the beginning of the evening, Sanya Tagge had reminded Cael that he shouldn't speak unless spoken to, because there was very little anyone at this party would want to hear from a pilot. Perhaps she was right, but a combination of nerves and wine were working against Bathala.

“That's an interesting accent you have there, miss. Very.. exotic. Like something out of the Outer Rim.”

"Carrrssshouljisss, actualljy" Kajeela replied, her grey-green eyes taking in Cael like a sponge. "jIt jis kjind of jyou to sssajy ssso"

[Rekoj]

Rekoj was far too pleased with himself. Having flicked the lumbering bore Inquisitor 'Lykasses' place card somewhere down the table. Such an opportunity between two of the most gorgeous women at this party would have been well wasted on that drone.

To his left, the magnificent Sanya Tagge, childhood friend of Miranda Tarkin, and newest Imperial Minister of Truth. Rekoj knew of her, had even studied her file at the citadel in preparation for his mission to the wedding (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=19031). The file wasn't a thick one. Basic statistics, height, hair color, family history, the Inquisitor's eyes dipped appreciatively, bust size.

She smiled. "Long live the Empire." Her lips full and pink, mouthed the words of the toasted mantra.

Rekoj returned the smile. His eyes lingering to study her posture while his ears did their best to single out the conviction of her tone. For some reason the Inquisitor didn't feel entirely convinced. It wasn't that he was purposefully dissecting her intentions but habits die hard, especially for Inquisitors. Or maybe it was the fact he was recognizing the small taste of reservation in her voice, that mirrored his own. Despite it, he raised his glass with the rest and followed the gesture.

He then turned to right. Noticing the strangely beautiful woman remaining silent through the toast. She downed her glass of champagne in one smooth swallow. Leaving a smudge of pink lip stick on the rim of her glass. Then craned her neck and straightened her back as if on the lookout for someone in particular. Clearly her mind was else where and toasting to the Empire was the last thing on her mind.

"But not too long eh?" Rekoj gave her a playful nudge with his elbow, the likes of which an older brother might give when teasing his sister.

"Well, I dont know about you ladies but..." A hand gesture to a nearby waiter. "I say we get this party started." The waiter had rushed off dutifully. Returning just as promptly with a tray of small clattering shot glasses. Each filled with a light gold liquid. Rekoj straightened in anticipation. Watching as the waiter began setting the shots down in groups of four, sliding each grouping like the winnings of some sabacc game pot. To his left, Sanya Tagge looked down to see the four tiny glasses, her lip curling mischievously in response. To his right, the unknown beauty remained silent, but he could tell his challenge had been accepted.

Then something unexpected.

"You." Rekoj gestured to the woman across the table and to his right. Sliding a single shot from everyone's line up, leaving the four of them with three each. "You're up first."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

Of all the simple things one could possibly do in the entirety of the galaxy that would fall under the "probably not a very good idea" category, pushing a shot towards Emelie was probably near the very top of the list. Shame only one person at the gala knew of the possible outcomes. Most people had always taken the soft pink blush that always was lingering in her cheeks as a hinting of makeup rather than a giveaway towards her mother's side of the family and some rather unique traits that came along with it. It was somewhat funny the trouble a second liver could get you in to at times. Somewhat.

Emelie hadn't been quite sure what to expect when it came to the seating arrangements at dinner, though it seemed those in her general vicinity were at least going to keep things lively. Perhaps not as lively as the Devaronian who had made a bit of an entrance before joining the other table, but all things considered, maybe that was for the best. She had been asked rather nicely at one point to behave at the event. Though there was such a fine line between what may have been construed as proper and the makings of mischief when it came to her.

An almost pouty expression came to her lips as she placed a single fingertip over the shot glass that had been pushed towards her. A look of feigned bafflement and innocence crossed her features as she let the thoughts mull about as to how to play the situation.

"Me?" She allowed for a momentary pause as her eyes batted in an overly girlish manner of perplexity. It was a rather juvenile act, one no doubt Xavier was rolling his eyes at and it all was finished with a small nod of her head and a resigned sigh. "Well, if you insist."

The shot glass was neatly snatched up from the table and its contents downed in a swift motion without the hesitation that sometimes noted such a thing. And where a typical small shudder from the sudden bite of alcohol might occur, instead her eyes closed and a small smile formed as she let a soft "mmm" of enjoyment escape.

Her eyes opened as she gently upturned the shot glass and placed it back down on the table, letting the same fingertip that had questioningly nudged the shot in the first place now point at it as her hazel eyes came to rest upon the empty glass.

"That...is very good." She pulled her hand back and let a small impish smile come to her as her gaze raised to meet the man who started it all.

"And to think, I promised myself I had put an end to accepting drinks from men whose name I have yet to collect."

[Xavier Synik]

Xavier watched Rekoj carefully. Something wasn't quite as it appeared, he just couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was just the fact that Rekoj didn't seem like the type who'd be at the party. While there were a few guests who were obvious 'stick in the mud' types not all of them were, but this party didn't strike Xavier as being the type of gathering where one started handing out shots at the dinner table.

He also watched as Rekoj unwittingly began the evening down a slippery slope when he pushed the shot glass over to Em, and as she anticipated he did roll his eyes suddenly as she feigned the innocent girl act.

Waiting until after she had taken the shot he looked at her and in the brief moment that their eyes met gave her a 'try and behave' look. Then shaking his head slightly he turned away from the group at the end of that end of the table looking to see who else had joined their table.

[Sanya Tagge]

To say that she was suspicious of the apparently cordial gesture would have been an understatement. Sandwiched between Karl Valten and a man whose name, according to his nameplate, was simply 'Rekoj', Sanya felt more than a little self-conscious. In fact, she felt practically paranoid. The woman sitting across the table had yet to keel over, but that did not mean that her own drinks were not lethal poison. Tagge tried to rewind her memories, to recall if there had been any signal to suggest she was being handed a precise selection of glasses, but it was useless.

Picking up her first shot-glass between finger and thumb, with pinky daintily extended, Sanya lifted it in a ginger toast – all the while, her eyes moving perhaps more quickly than they should between the faces of the other guests at the table. Her heart fluttering, so drew the glass to her lips and then, with a surprising amount of grace, upturned it and swallowed the liquid down in one, sending it burning down her throat.

A moment passed and, to her relief, there was no tightening of the throat, no clenching of the gut. Only a faintly satisfying after-burn and a trace of the light gold liqueur on her lips. She dabbed at them hastily with a napkin, whilst her eyes lingered – with a hint of defiance in them – on Rekoj.

[Salem Ave]

The party unfolded around Salem Ave, with guests trading seats and stories. It all washed over the Arkanian, who seemed to have eluded notice thus far. He noted, in the moment of solitude, the presence of two other aliens – a great deal less human in appearance than himself – and wondered who or what they were to warrant an invite to the Empress's own table. It seemed unlikely that the Empire had revised their anti-alien policies over night, and equally implausible that their xenophobia was merely a pretence, abandoned whilst in private company. It was all intriguing food for thought.

Directly opposite Salem sat the daughter of the evenings hosts, the beautiful Estelle Russard. She had been about as chatty as Ave himself, seeming distracted by... something. Salem caught her eye and smiled.

[Aree Ankarta]

The whole evening was spinning out of control. All the unknowns, all the dangers - too many dangers to count by now - and she was so tense that she was somewhere between light-headed and scared stiff. Caran had come and pulled her away from his mother, who seemed mentally not quite there. It'd been a momentary diversion from her own state of mind and being, meeting his mother, especially the way she had behaved. She'd have liked to find out what the matter was but Caran hadn't let her.

Caran.

The man was unbelievable. Bringing her to a party with inquisitors. And then that smug smile on his face.... he had to know something. But what? And how much?

Yet somehow her brief encounter with his mother had helped her find her own focus again. It had distracted her enough to now feel able to concentrate on keeping a calm facade - even though she was sitting across the table from what seemed to be the Grand Inquisitor himself.

She was concentrating very hard on not looking over there. On not drawing attention to herself. So, when Caran decided to return the Inquisitor's toast, she focused on the Cizerack female on the other side of Caran instead - it seemed a logical thing to do, as most people would probably take her to be Caran's girlfriend rather than a mere employee (truth to be told, she wasn't exactly sure either where they stood at the moment). Raising her glass to her lips, she took a sip, leaning back in her seat to look at the felinoid female from the side with the haughtiest attitude she could muster. She had to think 'jealousy', and put all her effort into it.

But her eye got arrested by the sight of the man next to the Cizerack.

It had been many, many years. They'd both been younger - she'd been very young, in her teens still, and he... he'd looked a little different, and dressed a little different, but the voice, and the behaviour - it was the same as then.

"Aurelias?"

The question escaped her by as much surprise as his presence was at this party. This was the last place where she would have expected to see him again, after all those years. It made the Cizerack's head swivel around to look at her curiously. She wished she hadn't said it so loudly - how loudly had she said it? - but now she had to stick to it, otherwise the Inquisitor...

"Aurelias?" She therefore repeated, hoping that he would hear her.

[Sarah Lymia]

“Inquisitor Sarah Lymia of Eriadau, your Majesty.”
<o></o>
Why the hell was he sitting here and not someone like Valten, Tagge, or someone in the Russard clan? Uggggghh, this was going to be uncomfortable. Didn’t really help that part of the reason Sarah was on Coruscant was to train the new Empress’s Hand. And Lymia had read the file on that girl…it wasn’t pretty.
<o></o>
“Congratulations on your coronation and wedding.” She bowed her head towards the couple across from her because she really didn’t have a clue what else she was supposed to do.
<o></o>
Her focus didn’t last long as the commotion at the other end of her own table with Jakys and his drunken horde….and the glimpse of the shot glasses being distributed by Rekoj at his soon-to-be-drunken menagerie. She desperately hoped the “Oh, shit!” thought in her head hadn’t found its way to her vocal chords. Not in front of the Empress. At least Valten (despite her annoyance with him this evening) was sitting close by Rekoj. She really wondered what had gotten into the other Inquistors.
<o></o>
Eh, whatever, wasn’t really any chance for a party at the Citadel and there were people here already much worse off than them. She could use a few drinks herself.

[Cora V'al Counis]

Even through the tears, her eyes had never left Caran. She didn't care what was happening around her - this simply could not be happening. He was her son! Her son!

And then he turned and walked back. He was coming back to her. A slow smile spread on her lips, her heart grew easy again. He was coming back, and it would all be forgiven and forgotten. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her right arm, and pulled her left from the girl he had brought with him. How embarrassing!

But he didn't say a word. He came, and passed her, and didn't say a word. He took the girl instead, and walked off without even a glance. The tears renewed in her eyes, her hand flew to her mouth, covering her lips before could utter any sound that wanted to escape her now. Her son... there had to be something... something to be done... he couldn't just... like that...

Then Getar was there by her side, taking her hand, leading her away somewhere. Making her sit, talking to someone, making her comfortable. All the while the probabilities, the choices were running through her mind, bringing fresh agony to it. She felt weak - to the point of fainting - yet she couldn't; she owed her husband that much. He cared for her. She needed to be strong, for him. He had no idea.

Oh, if only it wasn't too late now to tell him all... she'd do it right there, right then. Even with the inquisitor being there----

Inquisitor?!? Oh no!!!!

That brought her back fully. Caran was in danger. She needed to protect him. The past half an hour was pushed aside in her mind, and her eyes and ears as watchful as ever, looking for that hint that meant they were after him.

The fool of a boy was talking to one!

[Karl Valten]

“Wise words, Mr……Counis?” The Grand Inquisitor took time remembering the name of the man across from him, more so take in the guests around him. With more of the party-goers filling in their seats, Valten found himself dining with an eclectic mix of company. Miss Tagge to his right with whom he maintained a fair amount of disdain, the business mogul’s son who had toasted back to him and the twitchy young woman seated next to him. Ever the Inquisitor, Valten took in her mannerisms out of the corner of his eye as she conveniently attempted to start a conversation with the bounty hunter.

"Looks like I’m to be joining you all"

“Welcome, Judge Corta, I hope that evening has been treating you well.” Inquisitor Atrapes had spoken to Valten earlier in the week upon his return to Imperial Center. He hadn’t had the most flattering things to say about the Judge visiting the Citadel during the Grand Inquisitor’s absence.

Rekoj opposite him from the Minister of Truth caused the Grand Inquisitor some concern…as did Inquisitor Sei’Trem seating himself across from Jason Russard. But Valten at least took comfort that the two weren’t seated next to each other and the knowledge that both, despite appearances, were two of the more intelligent and conniving Inquisitors at the Citadel.

Though apparently the other young man across the table, a Mr. Synik, had similar reservations about the drinks with the look he flashed the woman seated at the end of the table. Something about her seemed off…an almost instinctual feeling for an Inquisitor.

“Careful there Rekoj. I think the young lady might make a fool of you.”

Karl finished off his glass of wine with a slight smirk.

[Miranda Tarkin]

The face she did not recognize, but the name was quite familiar. Miranda had been informed that this younger Inquisitor were to train Sorsha Kasajian as her new Hand. There was so much that the Empress wanted to ask Lymia, but not in mixed company.

There was, however, something that could be discussed quite openly. "Eriadu is it?" the Empress' smile was surprisingly warm. "As you know, my family has strong roots upon that planet. What part of the planet does your family hail from Inquisitor?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle smiled demurely back at Salem, a strange sensation forming in her belly that had nothing to do with the wine they'd been served or the unusual gaze of Mr. Ave himself.

Behind Estelle's soft eyes and the girlish flush of her cheeks was an enemy of the Empire, who's Leader and her husband sat not three seats away from her. She was a traitor to the majority of the company of whom she was now seated amongst, of whom was now sipping fine wine from delicately fluted glasses with. Estelle felt at once treacherous and inordinately composed - a sensation, she now realised, she was quite comfortable with and hence her feeling of strangeness. She wasn't sure she liked who she had become since the far off days of first year University. Gone was the naive and sheltered girl who had no concept of what the galaxy around her had been really like. In her place was someone who could smile warmly and chat engagingly with people, despite secretly and devotedly waging a war against them. One thing she knew for certain, however, was that she - and a not-small number of other people - were alive because of the change. Her ability to dissemble amongst the Imperials, to mingle unencumbered amongst them and even to be liked by a lot of them had opened unique and invaluable opportunities to assist the Alliance and some how, that made it a little more palatable. Santiago, who she slipped a quiet glance to, made it easier to reconcile it with too.

"Good evening, Prime Minister" Estelle greeted, "We are very glad to have your company tonight. You are a long way from home - I hope our Imperial Center has been treating you kindly"

[Eliessa Corta]

"Grand Inquisitor" Corta acknowledged with a respectful incline of her head.

Rekoj, she noted, was intergrating himself nicely with three very attractive young ladies down the table from her and Eliessa couldn't help but wonder at the man's sheer audacity. Her hand touched softly against the datapad now stowed safely within her clothing as Valten delivered his warning to him. Very audacious, indeed.

Corta then proceded to peel Aurelias with her eyes, "And who might you be?" she inquired pointedly.

[Yeart Quenn]

When he was finally shown to his seat, he didn't know whether to be angry or fearful: three seats away from Sanya - with Valten and some elderly female between them. On his other side sat Russard Senior.

As he'd arrived, he'd had to wait until the woman next to him detached herself from their host - a girlfriend? the old man looked frail enough to keel over during anything she could still do to him! They took their seats simultaneously, but while he was still casting his eyes out to see what else was out there, she was already trying to engage the man opposite them in a conversation.

Didn't waste any time, the cireatch! He liked that in a female.

He turned in the other direction, bowed politely to Russard Senior, to give the man his dues. After a moment, in which he went through a long mental list of all the rules and regulations he'd learned for this party alone and had remembered nothing that said it was breaking some holy rule of Imperial Center etiquette to do so, he also extended his hand to the man, with a clipped "Moff Yeart Quenn, of Kuat".

He was curious to see whether the Russards knew anything about his ties to KDY - something the Empire had kept fairly secret until now.

[Rekoj]

"That...is very good. And to think, I promised myself I had put an end to accepting drinks from men whose name I have yet to collect."

"Collect? It'll take more then a single shot to hang my name on your trophy wall." Rekoj caught himself admiring Emelie's dimples. The way they became so defined in a smile that could only be described as beautifully mischievous. "But I admit you do seem to have good aim. So perhaps it will only take two shots."

“Careful there Rekoj. I think the young lady might make a fool of you.” The Grand Inquisitors voice spilled from his position on the other side of the Minister of truth. With a finishing sip his warning resonated off the Tarisian crystal made wine glass.

Rekoj turned in toward the Grand Inquisitor's direction but logically found himself face to face with the minister, Sanya Tagge, dabbing her lips on a napkin. Sitting in front of her was an empty shot glass, defeated and weeping, a single tear of its golden contents which was dripping leisurely down from its rim.

"Well..." Rekoj set his eyes on Sanya's defiant blues. Reaching down to the table to pluck one of his three short victims. A quick flick of his wrist and he was now an accomplice. Then a second, taking the lead, with a small wince and clenching of teeth as his lungs tried to breath fume. "It wouldn't be the first time I've been made a fool by a woman. A lady, however, that's another story."

The waiter who had delivered the shots stood silently at the ready and with the briefest waggle of Rekoj's finger he moved to refill each shot glass. Then promptly set the bottle down to be set upon by the mercy of the four.

"Well ladies. I say deserts come early. To continue. Its two back to back. Time to ante up." The Inquisitor turned to Milli who looked to still be debating the challenge that had been thrust so suddenly upon her. "Three to start for you gloomy."

[Salem Ave]

"Good evening, Prime Minister" Estelle greeted, "We are very glad to have your company tonight. You are a long way from home - I hope our Imperial Center has been treating you kindly"

“Coruscant has been an exceptionally gracious host. My only regret is that the Queen Adraudia herself could not be here, to experience such generiosity of spirit,” Salem said, with a reverent bow of his head. As he continued, his voice became hushed, a somewhat rueful expression touching his sharp features.

“I hope it's not too tawdry of me to ask your profession, Miss Russard? You must forgive my ignorance, but Onderon does not feel the influence or presence of the Core very often.”

[Getar V'al Counis]

His one eye still on his wife, the head of Counis Corp took a few minutes to gather himself before he could pay any attention to what else was going on.

For Getar had something of a personal issue to decide on - the same one that had been with him for the last 32 years, but now, this day, it seemed even more important he do something about it. Getar was almost certain - in fact, he felt it in his bones - that the recent altercation between his wife and his son was about Caran's heritage. Which meant the boy knew. The obvious question he could have asked himself there was how the boy had come to know, but it was Caran - the boy was very resourceful, and had an uncanny stroke of luck with some things. (Of course he had!) No - the crux of the matter was the same as always: should he let Cora know he knew? For the past 32 years he'd lived with this lie - rather comfortably, even smugly, sometimes; but if Caran had taken it the wrong way and was alienating himself from her, was it not the best thing for him to owe up the truth to her, so he could give her that little bit more support than he was giving her now?

He'd always hoped she would come to him one day. But it had been a long time - and he'd gotten comfortable "not knowing", playing oblivious to all the little tricks she'd pulled over the years to hide certain things. It had been something of a very private joke.

Would she see it as that? Perhaps it would simply alienate her from him, too, at this point, if he admitted he'd known all this time that she'd lied to him? How did one exactly tell his wife something like that?

'Dear, you know that Jedi you used to gallivant around with, back in the days you spent on Naboo - did I ever tell you he and I made a deal behind your back that I'd look after the son he fathered on you if I'd keep my mouth shut about it if the Jedi ever came calling?'

No.... that wouldn't do.

Or... 'Cora, y' know it's an odd coincidence the name Caran seems like a marriage of your name and that Jedi you used to know back before the boy was born. You wouldn't suppose he had anything to do with that?'

No. Not good either.

At this point, he became aware that a server was standing behind him, obviously having adressed him in some fashion. Dazedly, Getar took in the bottle of wine the fellow was holding, and nodded his approval.

Putting off the whole decision for another few minutes - or hours, days, weeks, or more - he distractedly held up his now full glass to the couple sitting opposite him, and made a silent toast to the new Empress and her husband. They were busy anyway, and wouldn't hear him.

'So, did you ever hear the one about the rich guy who was sterile and couldn't father anything, who one day heard his wife say she was pregnant with a boy? Guess what - he'd never bothered to tell her, and she tried to pass off the product of her liaison with a pompous Jedi as his own. Haha - isn't that one funny?'

Sometimes it wasn't so funny at all.

[Cael Bathala]

"Mr Bathala, I hope you dont feel too imposed upon by being separated from your date this evening. Is it too much for us to hope you will regale us with some of your swoop team racing exploits?

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> There was something magnetic about the alien's eyes that Cael found hard to pull away from. It was impolite to stare, but she was just about staring a hole in his head right now. Forcing himself to look away, he gave Jason Russard a lopsided smile then turned slightly to catch a glimpse of Minister Tagge.

“I'd say she's having a good time, by the looks of it, so no harm done.”

A knowing look was traded around the table, as the antics of Rekoj and the three ladies he found in his company were hardly going unnoticed. To Russard's request, he gave a faint shrug. Something about the man wasn't as intimidating, now that he'd got a fair few glasses of bubbly inside of him.

“You follow the races?” It always struck Cael that swoop racing was a working class sport, not something that the rich would be into. Then again, there was a lot of money to be made on betting.

“Team Tagge was solid, hardly any exploits thanks to tight piloting – but I rode with the NaKuda team before them, and we had some scrapes. My first run was the Keren City street race, Naboo, and ended up with a four-swoop pile up in Lake Varum. We were finding frogs in the engines for days after.”

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Th'Empire. Feh. Frack th'Empire. Kazaar dutifully raised 'is glass with th'rest o'em. If he hadn't, woulda caused o'lotta problems for th'Russard family. An' he didn't want that t'happen. He liked 'em too much. Even th'Kid's father was alright. When he wasn't tryin' t'get to know 'is ex-wife.

He gulped th'champagne down in one drink (like anyone'd care at this point) an' stuck o'fork in the salad that'd been placed in front o'him. Wasn't his favorite kinda dish (not 'nough blumfruit (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Blumfruit)) but what was he gonna do, send it back to th'cook? That'd be just as bad.

Kazaar was 'bout t'ask for another glass o'bubbly, when someone called 'is name. Almost so low he'd missed it. But someone, dame o'some kind, called for him. Th'ex-bounty hunter's leaned his head up t'figure out who'd called. Damn couldn't see anyone.

He was 'bout t'let it go, when someone else, th'dame right in front o'him, who didn't look too pleased t'see 'im asked. "And who might you be?"

Kazaar sized her up. Way she looked had t'be some kinda Imperial muckity-muck who was there 'cause she'd been asked by Russard t'show. Didn't recognize 'er but he'd only glanced at th'guest list, didn't really study it. Did look familiar though some how...

"Name's Kazaar. Just here makin' sure nothing gets fracked up. Who's askin'?"

[Estelle Russard]

Salem

"Not tawdry at all Prime Minister," Estelle responded, happy to have the conversation steered to neutral topics, "I am an art appraiser. My vocation takes me far from Imperial Center much of the time, but I always enjoy coming home. I would be remiss, however, if I gave you the impression that I did not thoroughly enjoy spending my days examining the marvellous creativity the galaxy is abundant in. My absence from the hub of the Universe is not a hardship."

[Jason Russard]

<STYLE type=text/css> <!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </STYLE>There was something magnetic about the alien's eyes that Cael found hard to pull away from. It was impolite to stare, but she was just about staring a hole in his head right now. Forcing himself to look away, he gave Jason Russard a lopsided smile then turned slightly to catch a glimpse of Minister Tagge.

“I'd say she's having a good time, by the looks of it, so no harm done.”

A knowing look was traded around the table, as the antics of Rekoj and the three ladies he found in his company were hardly going unnoticed. To Russard's request, he gave a faint shrug. Something about the man wasn't as intimidating, now that he'd got a fair few glasses of bubbly inside of him.

“You follow the races?” It always struck Cael that swoop racing was a working class sport, not something that the rich would be into. Then again, there was a lot of money to be made on betting.

“Team Tagge was solid, hardly any exploits thanks to tight piloting – but I rode with the NaKuda team before them, and we had some scrapes. My first run was the Keren City street race, Naboo, and ended up with a four-swoop pile up in Lake Varum. We were finding frogs in the engines for days after.”

This last remark elicited an honest chuckle from Jason - he would have liked to have seen that.

"A good grounding in reaction skills for your present occupation Mr. Bathala, would you say? I admit, I do admire the life of a fighter pilot. It seems both noble and the ultimate adventure in one"

[Eliessa Corta]

Corta ignored Kazaar's query and just let a knowing smile touch her lips, which fell well short of reaching her eyes.

"How lucky of us to have you here then, Mr. Kazaar, to make sure nothing gets fracked up."

Adelaide gave her a strained look across the table, but Eliessa ignored that also.

"I must learn your secret of keeping things so.." she searched for the right word..."harmonious."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar spotted Delly 'cross from th'unnamed dame. Aw crap. Been tryin' t'avoid talking t'her all night. Keep alotta things from gettin' all, as Kazaar put it, 'fracked up'. 'Course that was outta th'airlock now.

He scowled at no one in particular an' did his best t'appear civil. "Delly. How'd ya get an invite 'ere? Kid's dad invite ya?"

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"Im here with the Judge" she said, darting an uncomfortable look between Aurelias and Corta.

"Have you met, Tricerus Idalix yet?" Adelaide asked her ex-husband, drawing the focus away from a clearly antagonistic Eliessa.

"He's a fighter pilot" she said, "A very famous one."

Not that Kazaar would be impressed that Trix was a pilot, or that he was famous, but she wanted Aurelias to think that she was impressed. That was by far the most important aspect of the introduction.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar snorted. Bet he could fly rings 'round that damn flyboy in Th'Dutchman. "Since when did ya start workin' forra judge. Or really give o'frack 'bout Coruscant anyway. Thought ya were gonna spend time on Bre...elsewhere...'fore decidin' what ya were gonna do."

No frackin' way was he 'bout t'mention Brentaal, the planet their dead son was named after. No way in frackin' hell.

[Old Man Russard]

When he was finally shown to his seat, he didn't know whether to be angry or fearful: three seats away from Sanya - with Valten and some elderly female between them. On his other side sat Russard Senior.

As he'd arrived, he'd had to wait until the woman next to him detached herself from their host - a girlfriend? the old man looked frail enough to keel over during anything she could still do to him! They took their seats simultaneously, but while he was still casting his eyes out to see what else was out there, she was already trying to engage the man opposite them in a conversation.


Didn't waste any time, the cireatch! He liked that in a female.

He turned in the other direction, bowed politely to Russard Senior, to give the man his dues. After a moment, in which he went through a long mental list of all the rules and regulations he'd learned for this party alone and had remembered nothing that said it was breaking some holy rule of Imperial Center etiquette to do so, he also extended his hand to the man, with a clipped "Moff Yeart Quenn, of Kuat".

He was curious to see whether the Russards knew anything about his ties to KDY - something the Empire had kept fairly secret until now.


"Hello Quenn" the Old Man accepted the offered hand and shook it squarely, observing, "You're taller in person"

[Sarah Lymia]

Yes, the Tarkin name was very well known on her homeworld. It was part reason she wasn’t particularly happy about being seated across from the Empress. Not that she had anything against the family, just the praise heaped upon the Tarkin clan by the Eriaduans was a bit mind-numbing.

“Phelar, Highness. My father served as an officer in the Eriaduan 32^nd Line Battalion. Retired now, but still like to throw his voice around in the Stark Veteran Assembly.”

Family really didn’t matter to her anymore. Most Inquisitors cut emotional ties to their past and Sarah definitely fell in that category.

Even so she still kept up wi…….DAMN THAT WOMAN WAS GETTING FRACKING IRRITATING!

Lymia’s head was pounding from the emotional maelstrom pouring from the wife of the man next to her. The Inquisitor turned to address her, keeping her own frustration hidden.

“Ma’am are you alright?”

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

The crowd was siphoned towards the tables and everyone found their seats with only a little bit of happy confusion. Sasseeri beelined for the Grand Inquisitor, but ended up near some white eyed alien who was very handsome. The female he was talking to referred to him as 'Prime Minister.'

Sasseeri's ears pricked and she listened in on their conversation, idly demolishing a roll as she did.

[Jakys Sei'trem]

As the waiter came around to his end of the table with drinks, Jakys cheerfully requested a good Corellian Whiskey on the rocks. With luck it would be a good Whyren’s Reserve stock, but the Devaronian was certain that the Russards wouldn’t offer that even to esteemed guests.

Sei’Trem swirled the drink a bit to break the ice off before taking a sip and listening in on the conversation near him. He had seen the holonet
interview with Idalix and Bathala: Imperial Starfighter Corps, Swoop Racer, escort to the Minister of Truth, the young man had quite the repertoire.

Jakys lips curled into a grin, exposing his sharp teeth.
“Bet th’ lil’buggers did’n elp much with th’fuel econ’my.”

He took another sip from the powerful alcohol.

“Team N’kuda? Did’jou ever race on Caprioril? Was aa the’race when Hodrix bea’ Serji-X, I was.”

[Cora V'al Counis]

“Ma’am are you alright?”

As she was trying to follow the conversation at the other table - at least Caran's with the inquisitor opposite him - a stranger's voice reached her from her left, past Getar. The question momentarily stalled her - was it so obvious that she was upset? Cora leaned forward and turned her head slightly, her head still full of worry for her son.

He might think, for all that he thinks he knows, that he can deal with them - but he cannot yet grasp the danger he is in... he cannot....

Yet she regained something of her usual hauteur as she looked the woman sitting there up and down. It truly was a total stranger to her, and a young one at that. How dare the girl have the audacity to ask her something so personal? There were certain rules of etiquette in polite society, and this fell under one of those.

For a brief moment, as her fear suddenly found a new vent and slowly turned to anger over a mild digression as this, she had a flash of insight. She saw herself as the girl might see her - outside herself - and there was not her usual self sitting on that chair, but an angsty, shaken, pale thing that had little in common with what she should have been. Then the moment was past, and almost instantly there was a change in her demeanour. She sat up; this was a society party - she could not let herself go so shamefully. One last thought -

....my son.... I fear I have doomed us all, and this is the end, but.... if we survive this evening, somehow,.... if only we can... I won't make matters worse by getting their attention.... it's up to you... don't take this too lightly just to spite me... please don't...

- and then she made a conscious effort: closing her eyes, imagining she was standing there behind him, she envisioned himself putting her hand on his right shoulder protectively - and then wrenched her attention away from him and back towards her own place, her self, Getar, the presumptious girl next to him.

She gave her a very frosty smile, noting that her husband was looking at her oddly.

"Young woman, I do not know who you are, but I assure you I am perfectly fine!"

Looking back quickly toward Caran's place, she saw the young woman who he had brought turned around and staring back at her with a puzzled frown - then Cora watched her put her hand on Caran's shoulder. The same spot where she herself had imagined hers to lie.

Cora's eyes widened, in shock.

[Aree Ankarta]

It seemed Aurelias Kazaar was occupied otherwise, since he didn't respond to her calling him. For a moment she'd even wondered if he still used that name - come to think of it, it might have been rather foolish to call out to him in this setting, as in their profession it was quite common to adopt a different name - but leaning forward again to listen to the conversation across the table, she heard him introduce himself as Kazaar to a stern looking woman across the table from him.

As she idly listened to the talking, it belatedly occurred to her that it had been utterly dini'la to call out to him; for while he had not changed his name - she certainly had. 'Aree Ankarta' had come after their meeting - and Dar had her use a different name while they'd been hunting together.

Thinking of the possible reactions to someone here calling her by some name not on the guest list - it made the blood rush to her head again. Di'kutla - what an utter di'kut she'd been!

Nervously she toyed with the procession of knives on the right side of her plate while trying to appear as normal as she could. There were four of them, one smaller than the next. What were they for? They weren't even useful as weapons - they all had a rounded tip.

With half an ear she was still listening to the other people's talk. Caran she tried to ignore as best as she could, since he seemed to do the same. Admittedly, she would have liked to ask him a few things - least of all what the knives were for - but she was afraid her anger would seep through no matter how innocent the discussion, and that... she wasn't sure how much she could still keep herself hidden in the Force then.

The Grand Inquisitor she watched for a short while - his mannerisms, his way of observing those around him. He had an awareness like no other at the table, inspite of seemingly being occupied with the actions of some of the people at the other end of the table. She was certain he had noticed her, too, by the way her scalp had tingled uncomfortably a while ago as he'd talked to Caran. His attention had wandered elsewhere, yet.... she dared not allow herself any mistake.

And then----

---- there was the sudden urge to protect Caran from Valten. It was instinct that made her turn around and stare at his mother who was seated at the table behind her. She couldn't have said what it was exactly but something in the woman's eyes.... some silent appeal maybe, to watch over her son....

Nya reached out her hand, put it on his shoulder. It seemed the proper thing to do. All this puzzled her, but she did it nevertheless - what did he need to be protected from??

[Vince]

To say that Trix was a bit uncomfortable with the situation would be an understatement. But none could say that he was a coward, so he turned and smiled at Kazaar.

“Nice to meet you. I’m famous for another reason than my flying, though I suppose I’m not bad at it. I am still alive, and that counts for something, I guess. I was trained for flying bombers, in fact. But there was a shortage of escort pilots for battles with pirates, and I was assigned to an Interceptor.”

Kazaar completely ignored him. Trix may have been a bit out of his depth socially, but he wasn’t dim. It seemed Adelaide was using him to get to Kazaar, though that was the extent of his understanding.

[Salem Ave]

Salem"Not tawdry at all Prime Minister," Estelle responded, happy to have the conversation steered to neutral topics, "I am an art appraiser. My vocation takes me far from Imperial Center much of the time, but I always enjoy coming home. I would be remiss, however, if I gave you the impression that I did not thoroughly enjoy spending my days examining the marvellous creativity the galaxy is abundant in. My absence from the hub of the Universe is not a hardship."

“You must have occasion to visit a great many places,” Salem noted, with a hint of what might have been envy in his voice. “I dare-say you would be the first woman of your profession to set foot upon Onderon, if you should ever do us the honour of visiting.”

As he spoke, his eyes occasionally flicked to the rest of the table, where guests sampled tiny and exquisitely crafted appetisers. What he saw and heard pleased him: men and women engrossed in conversations of their own, scarce anyone paying any attention to the Prime Minister of a back-rocket speck of a planet. Though he was no stranger to play the wolf in sheep's clothing, it had been a long time since he had been a lone wolf, infiltrating the herd.

Lifting his glass to take a long sip, his eyes met briefly with those of one of the feline aliens. She was watching him, with a languid air about her, yet there remained something predatory in her eyes. Salem lowered his glass and looked back to Estelle, only a matter of seconds having passed.

“I'm told there are works in the Royal Palace of Iziz which some in the court speculate are thousands of years old.”

[Yeart Quenn]

"Hello Quenn" the Old Man accepted the offered hand and shook it squarely, observing, "You're taller in person"
Removing his hand from that of the old man, the Kuati tried his utmost to keep his reaction to those words out of his facial expression. He felt something between flustered and annoyed. His normal reaction would have been to give the man a false laugh, followed by a snide remark of some kind.... but he had to behave himself.

That cireatch had better appreciate it...

"Ah... yes?" was all he could muster, lamely, after a pause that was threatening to get too long. He gave the man a pasty smile, resigning himself to the fact that they had, at least, heard of him in some way. Question was - how?

"Kuat is a distance from here. Things always appear smaller from afar."

This time, the sneer wasn't to be hid entirely. Oh well.... maybe the old baaktat was too senile to pick up on it.

[Old Man Russard]

"Well, I guess that all depends on the size on the telescope, eh Quenn?"

Russard grinned at Yeart like a pirate, appreciating the Moff's struggle to retain his equanimity.

"Have a seat, Im glad to get the chance to meet you, actually" the Old Man pursued, "Rumour has it, you're a businessman."

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

They had begun to bring out the food now like they were serious, and although Cael had captured Tarruuri's attention by his swoop-race stories and his fine physical appearance - they, neither of them, could compete with the twin cornish hens on the plate being placed before her.

Tarruurri inhaled the devine aroma of roasted birds (did she detect a hint of rosemary there?) and delightedly jabbed one with a fork enabling her to lift it and bite at it like a fabulously improvised corndog. Even as she ate, she saw others had been served similarly and, not even bothering to ask Taataani for she knew what the reply would be, she instead nudged Cristobal beside her querying hopefully, "Arrre jyou gojing to eat both of jyourrrsss?"

[Estelle Russard]

“I'm told there are works in the Royal Palace of Iziz which some in the court speculate are thousands of years old.”

An unusual light engaged Estelle's features as Salem spoke of the Royal Palace of Iziz. Her love of Art was not an effected posture for appearances sake, it was in fact a true devotion in the young rebel.

The cover of a freelance appraiser had made good sense in facillitating her frequent departures from Imperial Center - the use of something that she knew and was well educated in. And while it had been very successful, nothing she'd done could compare to visiting Onderon in such a capacity. Salem was offering a real opportunity that one could only dream of..

"I would be truly overwhelmed if that was an invitation you were extending, Prime Minister.."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Kazaar, Tricerus

Adelaide flinched perceptibly as Kazaar almost mentioned Brentaal. It was akin to him dragging a magnet through a mine field for the bad associations that subject pulled undeniably to Del's mind at his naming of it. She blanched slightly and reached for her glass, her mouth in tense downturn, "I found something to suit me better."

Idalix was being a perfect gentleman and Aurelias was being an ass, what a surprise. Del felt there was something very sweet about Tricerus and it was easy to appreciate the effort he was making to be cordial in what could only be an uncomfortable position. She tried to be better company, despite the rancour Kazaar always managed to arouse in her.

"I've never seen an Interceptor up close, Trix? Is it like the TIE fighters or is it larger? Im sorry if that's a really ignorant question."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Art. They were talking about art. Sasseeri owned a great deal of the stuff, though she liked very little of it. The Nabooian Queen was well known for its gallery of post-Republic art, but she could barely stand to look at the pieces. It was all garbage as far as she was concerned. Expensive garbage.

However, people thought a certain way about other people who owned 'good' art. It was profitable to be known as a connoisseur of art, and so she was. There was one piece she had displayed in her bedroom - a red canvas liberally splashed with oranges and yellows. She liked that one. It was... vibrant. Reminded her of life.

The Prime Minister made eye contact with her (well, maybe, it was hard to tell with those boiled egg-white eyes of his), and Sasseeri let a faint smile trace her lips. She sipped her wine, found her glass to be empty already, and looked around impatiently for someone to refill it.

When arrre they serrrvjing djinnerrr?! She was getting hungry.

[Vince]

Despite the knowledge that Adelaide had a vendetta of sorts with Kazaar, Trix found it impossible to be annoyed. Such things were a part of life, and getting sore about what people did in the heat of anger wouldn’t help at all. Depending on what was done of course. The fact that Adelaide was a pretty woman also eased the process of disregarding any hurt pride.

“An Interceptor is about the same size as a TIE standard,” he said, becoming much more animated at speaking about a topic he finally knew something about. “It is longer and the newer models are getting smaller, but the base structure and frame are almost identical. Size is also contributed by the engines, but the difference isn’t as much as you would think. <style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 56.7pt } P { margin-bottom: 12pt } P.western { font-family: "Calibri", sans-serif } P.post-format-western { font-family: "Calibri", sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; page-break-inside: avoid; page-break-before: auto } P.post-format-cjk { font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; page-break-inside: avoid; page-break-before: auto } P.post-format-ctl { font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; page-break-inside: avoid; page-break-before: auto } A:link { so-language: zxx } --></style>I’m pretty sure I can arrange for you to see one personally; there’s an exhibition scheduled that is showcasing the TIE series. Forget where it’s being held at the moment though.”

[Yeart Quenn]

"Well, I guess that all depends on the size on the telescope, eh Quenn?"

Russard grinned at Yeart like a pirate, appreciating the Moff's struggle to retain his equanimity.

"Have a seat, Im glad to get the chance to meet you, actually" the Old Man pursued, "Rumour has it, you're a businessman."


"Haha, yes, you're right - the telescope!"

He had not a clue what the old dodderer meant, but since it seemed to be amusing, he wasn't going to let old Russard have the only laugh.

But the next thing was more to his liking. This was getting somewhere. He abandoned his awkward grin, and let curiosity get the better of him.

"Rumour has it, does it...? And what exactly does rumour have to say about it?"

[Salem Ave]

Estelle, Sasseeri

“It was, of course. You'll come to our little city, then?”

There were many reasons to befriend someone like Estelle Russard and though he did not know her yet, he had a hunch that they same could have been said for Sasseeri Reeouurra. The Cizerack offered him just a hint of a smile.

“I don't doubt that Iziz would be thrilled to welcome you – and, truly, any of this party's charming guests.”

[Old Man Russard]

"Rumour has it, does it...? And what exactly does rumour have to say about it?"

"Well," the old man replied cryptically, "I prefer to make up my own mind and not rely on here-say." Another ambiguous smile.

Jason was deliberately working to keep Quenn off-balance with his back-handed remarks. The Old Man had learned he could tell alot about a man with how he responded to not being the driver in a conversation, though he clearly felt he should be. Would he become defensive? A sure sign of insecurity. Or perhaps grow obstinate, signalling a man who was implacable and unimaginative.

"Im looking for someone to build me some All-terrain vehicles -- by which I mean space-worthy, land-worthy and even with amphibious capabilities. They are for research purposes, and will be able to carry a team of 6 to 8 personell." He quirked a questioning eyebrow, "You know anybody like that, Quenn?"

[Yeart Quenn]

Apparently, the Russards had excellent spies. He'd have to figure out who their informant was once he was back at KDY. Then again, it wasn't inconceivable her royal farking majesticity was their source, if they were important enough for her to grace them with an appearance at this shindig.

Now that the secret was out, he felt no need to hold back about it.

"How many?" he therefore replied, all business now.

[Caran V'al Counis]

Caran placed his glass on the tabletop and just as soon as he did, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked to see where it was coming from and saw the woman right next to him - his employee, his guest, his... date, since it was appropriate to say so, given the event. He reached up and placed a hand over hers and smiled. He was pleased with what little he had been able to find out for himself so far this evening.

"Yes, dear?" He shook his head and laughed. "Aree. Aree, what is it?"

He patted her hand and lifted his glass to his lips again, watching her over the glass as he took another draw of the pleasant flavour of the liquid within. He definitely chose the right dress for her.

[Aree Ankarta]

She resisted the urge to pull away her hand as he touched it. Yet she'd put her hand on his shoulder. To protect him.

A ridiculous notion.

And a dangerous one, too. Had it been her tapping into the Force in some way? Had it been an impulse from Valten? She knew they had at least some semblance of Force powers, for whichever use.

Giving Caran a frosty smile, she let her hand casually glide down his arm until it could simply drop back onto her lap. She would have given anything to give him a good kick in the getse for calling her "dear". For now....

It had to be a demon riding her, otherwise she didn't know what made her do it, but she heard herself ask: "Is it some kind of Imperial Center custom to treat one's mother like garbage and dump them onto one's assistant?"

[Caran V'al Counis]

If it surprised him that she threw these accusations at him, he didn't show it, save for the darkness that passed briefly through his eyes. It was well within her attitudes to say such things, but here? Even here, it was a slight concern. It bothered him, alright. It could nearly make him angry. It was none of her business. Caran laughed, skillfully feigned it from a lifetime of posturing to the likes of those that surrounded him this night and leaned over to Aree, turning his face to the side of hers, breathing there, in her ear.

"You have no idea what you are talking about. No idea what grounds you tread on with that question." He couldn't help it, the touch of anger that seeped into his voice, the barest and most private whisper that it was. "I know what you are, Nya. Watch where you stick you pretty little nose... and behave yourself. You see the company we keep."

That was private business. She had no right questioning his motives with his mother. No. Frelling. Right. He thought of one man who sat across the table from him. It would just be so easy.

And yet. Yet, he wouldn't, would he? Certainly not. Despite everything, despite how he felt about Nya Halcyon in that moment, something gave him pause. It was enough to stay his hand.