Public A Benefit Most Welcome

[DARKCOM]

Galaxies Opera House
Coruscant​

Galactic Alliance Senator Kaigann Fossk of the Deep Core Member World of Epoch has hosted a large benefit for the families who've lost a significant other in the valiant campaign against the Sith Empire and to raise awareness of the rising threat of the Brotherhood of the Maw. The event is being hosted at the Galaxies Opera House in the Uscru District of Coruscant, headlining will be the Mon Calamari Ballet along with several opening acts by up and coming artists performed live for your viewing pleasure. Reserved box seats have been set aside for members of the Galactic Senate whom have been invited to attend along with influential socialites and foreign dignitaries, the Opera is open to the public but tickets are vanishing quickly. Grab your seat while you can!

OOC: I set this up to run similar to a Dominion to make it easier to track members in case this thread fills up. I have a set of loose objectives you can add, but in the end feel free to make this thread your own and enjoy!

Enter the backroom dealings and political armwrestling of the box seats. Sway your local Senator's favor or see what all the huff is about with Senator Fossk's noble benefit. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!

The wealthy and affluent flock to the Opera House alongside influential corporate big wigs and political delegates from other galactic powers. Representatives of Senator Fossk stand at the ready in the lobby and parlors of the Opera House to take your donation or explain the dangers of the rising threat of the Maw. Explore the wonderous nightlife of the rich and famous or attempt to get a seat in the packed Opera House.

Whatever misadventures you want, lessgooo.

 

[Adhira Chandra]

The Chancellor's Box
Accompanied By: Aarav Chandra | Ishana Chandra | Pavati Chandra
Protected By: The Senate Guard

The benefit at the Galaxies Opera House for those lost in the war against the Sith Empire had quickly become one of the most anticipated social events of the season on Coruscant. The wealthiest and most powerful individuals on the capital world would be in attendance. To be certain, it was a solemn event, held to honor those families who had made the ultimate sacrifice for the Alliance. It was also an opportunity for the elite to see and - more importantly - to be seen. It is for this reason that it would come as no surprise when a flourish of brass instruments interrupted the dull roar of the mumbling crowd in the gargantuan concert hall to herald the arrival of one of the most powerful women in the galaxy.

A spotlight appeared on a large viewing box with bright blue and gold banners decorating the balcony. The trumpets brought almost the entire hall to its feet in unison, though there were a few too drunk or too unbothered to realize who rose later. The orchestra, meanwhile, perked up far below. There came the drumroll. And then - the anthem of the Alliance, All Stars Burn As One, began to play.

The spotlight caught Adhira in the eyes she and her husband stepped deftly through the archway the lead down into their reserved box. It was customary for Alliance citizens to remain respectful and attentive during the anthem, but during such tumultuous times, the sight of their Commander-In-Chief apparently gripped the audience as loud applause rippled throughout the chamber. It threatened to drown out the music. Aarav and Adhira stood solemnly when they reached their seats, closely followed by their daughter Ishana and grandaughter Pavati. Only when the song had ended did Adhira acknowledge the crowd with a wide wave of her hand and smile that blinded in the spotlight. She wondered for a moment, had they not been at war, if she would have received such a warm welcome. Then she pushed that thought away.

Aarav grabbed her free hand in a rare display of public affection and she looked over to see him smiling and waving as well. Even Pavati got wrapped up in the moment and waved to the crowd.

As the applause died down and Adhira's guests filed in behind her, royal, political, and otherwise, she picked up her program from the chair behind her, gave one last wave, and sat down just as the spotlight faded. "Well, that was certainly something," she said softly to Aarav who gave her a half-smile. Her daughter, meanwhile simply rolled her eyes and sank back into the chair. Ashanti was off-world so it was Ishana's turn to make a public appearance. She hated that. But Adhira could hardly sympathize at this point, given how scandalous her daughter's rumored relationship with Ryv Karris had become in the press.

​

​

 

[DARKCOM]

"I love democracy."​

The Epochian Senator settled into his seat as several aides fluttered around him, the passing of datapads like hot potatoes made him anxious. He longed for the trivialities of leading the benefit to leave his care if not for a moment to enjoy small talk amongst his fellow senators and perhaps members of the New Jedi Order. He had grown rather fond of the fledgling order and it's righteous crusade against the resurgent Sith Empire. Their cause was just, they reminded him of a time long passed.

With a wave of his hand the aides scattered, his eyes shifting over the masses moving into the chamber, scurrying to their seats. The event was jam packed, tickets selling out shortly after the event's announcement. The benefit was well on it's way to becoming one of the most successful event's of the season before even officially taking off. The sound of trumpets and bright light over the Chancellor's box commanded his attention, he rose alongside the entirety of the chamber as the orchestra drummed down as the anthem to began to play.

Thunderous applause, the seasoned Jedi smiled warmly as his hands clasped together, falling in with the crowd. He tipped his proverbial hat to the Chancellor, she sure knew how to make an entrance, he would have to remember to schedule a meet with the Chancellor for a proper introduction before the night was over. His arms folded as he stood in silent study of the crowd, taking a few moments before returning to his seat as an aide approached.

Kaigann looked at the aide through the corner of his eye, giving a slight nod of acknowledgement and a subtle gesture to speak. "You have a guest, a member of the New Jedi Order." The former Jedi glowed in excitement, "Ah yes, bring them in."


Auteme

 

[Auteme]

DARKCOM | Open-ish​

Auteme was terrified to admit that she didn't know how to dress for the opera. Worse, she worried that someone might point it out.

In a last-minute decision (she'd wasted too much time worrying about how large her wardrobe had become) she'd picked out a black, formal dress. The event was, after all, for those who had lost loved ones to the war against the Sith; yet when she arrived she'd realized grief was hardly the prevailing emotion. Those at the opera had left those feelings at home in favor of a night out -- all expenses paid by someone else.

She'd been meaning to meet that 'someone else' ever since Epoch's newly elected Senator had first taken his seat. A former Jedi turned Senator? He might as well be the Chancellor herself. Able to draw on that experience, name-drop the Jedi when necessary, all the while lacking the connections to the oft-controversial New Jedi Order -- Auteme, in some capacity, wanted to be Kaigann Fossk when she grew up.

But she needed to meet him first. Everything she learned would serve her well in the future.

Part of her wondered if her ambition had outgrown even her closet.

Auteme glided into the senator's private box, coming to a stop and sitting in the seat beside him. The first act of the night began, but much of the audience still looked up at the Chancellor's box, ever in awe of her style and bravado. The two of them were no different.

"You, ah, never get used to it," she said, half-leaning over in a whisper. "Every time she enters a room, I feel myself standing a little straighter. And, of course, the larger the room..."

A small smile traced her lips. She straightened in her seat as much as she could and more.

"Nonetheless -- I tend to need more introduction than the Chancellor. My name is Auteme Denko-Durren, I represent the New Jedi Order in the Senate. A pleasure to officially meet you, Senator Fossk." She dipped her head respectfully.

 

[Ryv]

The Chancellor's Box

Replacing The: Senate Guard
Naero | Adhira Chandra | Ishana Chandra | Others

​

Floors below the Chancellor's illustrious private box, Ryv marched down a curving hall. Security droids and house staff nodded the Jedi Knight's way whenever they crossed paths. Try as they might, the sentients among them couldn't hide the complex string of emotions that greeted the "Hero" of the Alliance. Awe mingled with quiet contempt and open disgust. Rumors intermingled with partial truths turned the New Jedi Order's reputation on its head overnight.

At the peak of the young Jedi stood him, Ryv Karis, Sword of the Jedi. He'd made mistakes. It felt like he'd lost more than he'd ever won. Countless hours spent hospitalized, entire weeks going by. Things were really bleak if losing an arm the first time was dwarfed by recent affairs.

Jedi Master Naero padded silently behind the Jedi Knight, his hands tucked away within two thick sleeves. A deep brown cloak hung over cream-colored robes. A traditionalist through and through, the zabrak stood in stark contrast to the jacket-clad kiffar a few steps ahead of him.

"I don't want to be here," Ryv grumbled over his shoulder. "They just released me from the hospital, man. I couldn't catch a wink of shut-eye with them poking and prodding me every few hours."

Naero smiled. "I understand, but you must make an appearance tonight, Knight Karis," the Jedi Master strode up beside Ryv. "It's been weeks since you were last seen in public. Many people, Jedi included, thought you were lost on Ziost. This showing of solidarity with our closest allies will remind the galaxy we are still here, even during difficult times such as these."

"Yeah, but- ahh, I want to sleep. Besides!" the kiffar's voice rose, his arms shooting forward like he'd presented something of grave importance to the Master. "Auteme is always with the Chancellor. She idolizes the woman. Wouldn't it make more sense for her to do this crap?"

"Perhaps," Naero shrugged in return. "People want answers, Ryv. Answers only you can give them," he reached up and draped a hand over one of Ryv's shoulders. "I know you're stressed, but this isn't like you. A public outing with someone like the Chancellor used to be something exciting. Surely you haven't grown bored of this lifestyle, my friend..."

Ryv paused mid-step, his entire body grinding to an unsteady halt. "There's so much flying around, Naero. It's like I'm drowning in problems, and I don't have any solutions. This just seems... I dunno, like, inconsequential? Nothing I do up there will amount to anything more than some overblown tabloid article about Ishana and me."

A perfectly sculpted brow arched at that.

"You know this isn't inconsequential, Ryv. You know the importance of these meetings and what they mean for the New Jedi Order," he led the younger Jedi to an adjacent tunnel. A turbolift awaited them at the end of the hall.

"Yeah, yeah," Ryv sighed.

"You and Auteme came up with a plan. You're taking steps, aren't you?" Naero turned to look over the Jedi Knight not far from the lift.

"Yes."

"Then give it time. Nothing is going to happen overnight, no matter how badly you want it to. Focus on what's in front of you right now—a meeting with one of the most powerful political figures in the galaxy. You've done this countless times before, haven't you?" he reached forward and straightened the leather jacket.

"Usually, we aren't sitting in a concert hall with her hot daughter right there, Naero."

"So it's Ishana, then?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ryv admitted. He visibly deflated and fell back against the wall. "I spent a month in a coma. How did these people come up with a secret romance between the Chancellor's daughter and me? We've been seen together, I dunno, once? At one of those galas for helping the Jedi or something, right?"

Naero shrugged again. "That's a question for Asmundr. I do not have his eyes, nor do I have his talent for sight," he turned his attention away from the knotted ball of anxiety in favor of the occasional passerby at the entryway to the hall. "Has she come by since you woke up?"

The question caught Ryv entirely off guard. His amber gaze shot back towards Naero, his gloved hand subconsciously falling to Wyatt Morga 's saber at his belt. Ryv struggled to piece together the right words. He wasn't happy the discussion moved to his missing zeltron. Of course, that frustration faded to silent shame. He shouldn't have pushed her that night. No amount of pretty words could change her mind and make things better. She wanted results. They all did. And Ryv just couldn't give it to any of them.

"Let's just make this happen already," Ryv muttered. He reached up and popped his jacket with an outward flick of his wrist.

"Knight Kar-" Naero's mouth snapped shut when Ryv turned away. "Er- Ryv."

Ryv paused, head turned faintly to the side.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't fair to bring that up," the Jedi Master dipped his head. "I'll be sitting towards the back of the box if you need anything."

Together they ascended the turbolift to the appropriate floor before departing side-by-side. Not a word was spoken as they passed by a crowd of curious concert-goers. It didn't take long for one of them to point the two Jedi out to the closest person. An excited whisper spread through the group and, within seconds, they'd all turned to watch the two pass by, following the Chancellor's earlier route nearly step for step.

Chandra's customary guard welcomed the Sword and his guest with sharp nods. Naero returned the gesture while Ryv climbed the steps towards the chair marked with his name. To his credit, he kept a straight face at seeing the spot between the Chancellor and her daughter awaiting him.

He cleared his throat and smiled towards Ishana as he passed.

"Evening," he looked away from her to her mother. "Thanks for the invite, Chancellor," he plopped down and crossed his arms.

 

[Inanna Harth]

BYOO - Convince New Jedi Knights to Help Rebels on Lao-mon Fight the Brotherhood
Tags: Open​

While she tended to keep it a secret to avoid being called pretentious, Inanna loved the theater. Operas, plays, ballets, live performances of all kinds—she loved them all. Some day she hoped she might even be able to write a play of her own and see it on a great stage such as this one.

It was unfortunate, then, that the reason she was attending the benefit at the Galaxies Opera didn’t allow her to sit in a box and simply enjoy the show. Doubly unfortunate that she had very little clue how she was going to go about her intended objective. She was not a politician or a diplomat, but thankfully she was only dealing with Jedi, not senators.

A small group of Knights sat crammed into a box with her, their chairs all facing inward rather than towards the auditorium. Inanna almost felt bad about it. This meeting could’ve taken place anywhere else, but this was the only time they could afford to give her out of their busy schedule, sandwiched between war with the Sith and war with the Bryn’adul. Already things didn’t look promising, even though she had read that this benefit was supposed to help raise awareness of the Brotherhood’s crimes against life—and that was precisely what she was trying to do herself. Only she was being more obvious and proactive about what they needed from the GA.

With a sigh, the Shi’ido leaned back in her seat. “There’s not much to say. Interaction between Lao-mon and the rest of the galaxy has always been limited, and now the Brotherhood has cut off communications. We know there are survivors in hiding, rebel groups actively fighting the invaders… and recently, a group of Jedi went there to help. But we haven’t heard back from them in some time.” It had been a pitiful little troop, she knew, maybe two dozen Jedi Knights and Padawans recruited from the Jakku Enclave, supplemented with Shi’ido returning home in hopes of finding their families… or avenging their deaths.

“The Brotherhood’s largest war camp is in Goshen, the capital. They have been hunting for survivors and bringing them back there to be enslaved, broken, brainwashed.” She spread her hands in a beseeching gesture as orchestral music floated up from the pit below. “I’m sure you know about it already. Then you understand why I ask—why I beg you to take this threat seriously. Don’t wait until your war with the Sith is done. Any soldiers and Knights that you have to spare, send them to Lao-mon. Or at least send ships and supplies to help the rebels in their fight.”

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Objective: Negotiate
Wearing: X
Tags: Inanna Harth

He was honestly glad that he was here for business instead of spending time enjoying the opera. Granted, in his current state, he could only enjoy the show halfway. Hand reaching up the adjusted the covering over his eyes, opting for a more traditional Miralukan viel over his eyes than the traditional bandages or sunglasses. A formal event did come with some expectactions after all. He represented an office and part of the Order as a whole. Coming into such an event underdressed would impact negatively on public image. And while ultimately a Jedi would care little for such things. Only a fool would deny how potent it was.

His hands were folded neatly on his lap as Inanna spoke, Everything she said had simply confirmed most of the reports that had been read back to him. In the Outer Regions, the Brotherhood of the Maw were still causing chaos. Enslaving, killing, burning, breaking. Ruining countless lives through their depraved savagery.

"I can assure you, Miss Yomin. The Brotherhood is not a threat we are taking lightly." He held up a hand in a placating manner. "I hope you understand that due to operational security, I cannot go into much detail. But I can tell you we are not ignoring this threat they pose." Hands clasping over his ap, his head tilted to the side. "While a full liberation force may be beyond our capabilities at the moment. We have no intent to abandon the people of Lao-mon to suffer." A hand reached to scratch the back of his neck. "I've experienced what happens to those in their clutches first hand. I can assure you I have no intent of allowing others to suffer that same fate."

They were not the Concord. They would not sit idly by while those outside their borders suffered. It was unfortunate that the distant world was situated right on the Galaxy's edge.. Its location making it difficult to properly organise any large relief effort due to the logistics involved. It was deep behind enemy territory. One had to either risk going through the Maw's front lines, or find some other Hyperspace route that led them around their defensive lines.

A tricky situation to say the least. One that lacked an immediate solution. "I will take this matter to the Council. However, this is a situation that will need to handled delicately. The Brotherhood are not a typical foe. I do understand that you wish to see your world freed. Our focus would be more aimed at freeing those in captivity and ferrying them off-word to somewhere safe over fighting the Brotherhood directly." He opened his hands in an apologetic gesture. "In order for us to do so effectively, we will require information. Anything you have learned. Contacts on the planet. So on and so forth."

 

[Inanna Harth]

Inanna nodded along with what the Miralukan Jedi was saying, while in the back of her mind, all she could think was things are only going to get worse, aren’t they?

“Ferrying refugees will be difficult,” she said. “It’s in the nature of the Shi’ido to blend in with our environment, hiding ourselves in plain sight. That is how most survived the initial attack—by escaping into the wilderness, disguised as trees, rocks, wild animals. Refugee ‘camps’ will be sporadic and difficult to spot. Although I suppose the Force would make it much easier...

“As for contacts, the Jedi are still there, to my knowledge. The team leaders were Ala Quin Quin and Tom Kovack . I don’t know what happened to them, or if they’re even still alive.” She paused, glancing down at her lap. “What I do know is that Tom claimed to have had visions of my father, Tammuz Hoole, calling to him. Tom was his apprentice, and he was afraid the visions meant that Tammuz was dead, dying, or about to die. That was why he organized a party and went there—to find him.” She looked up again. “I, too, have had visions. Of my father leading men into battle against the Brotherhood.”

Tammuz had, in his youth, survived the Gulag Plague. The Brotherhood were just one more feather in his cap.

She hesitated, racking her brain to see if she was forgetting anything. “I wish I knew more. The only ‘secure’ route I can think of is the obscure one from Bakura to Lao-mon. But that’s not much help to you, what with Bakura being part of the Eternal Empire...”

Aaran Tafo​

 

[DARKCOM]

Tags: Auteme

The Senator of Epoch smiled warmly as the Jedi Knight entered the box, his hand gestured to the seat next to his as the young Jedi slid comfortably beside him. The first act of of night had began, the lights dimmed down akin to candle light and sweet sweet music began radiating throughout the chamber eloquently. He leaned in as she did, his eyes moving back to the Chancellor's box with an amused grin and slight chuckle escape him.

"Magnetic, full of grace. There is no better face for the Alliance than her's, signs of a strong leader."

The Epochian grinned widely, his sight shifting from the play to the Jedi at his side. He remained seated comfortably, nestled in the luxury of the box seat as his right hand rose to his neck line in a clench-your-pearls fashion. He jested to her in response to her introduction, "You wound me."

The wizened Jedi smiled playfully, "Of course I would be a fool to not know the Shield of the Jedi, Auteme Denko-Durren, when she sits before my very eyes. I owe the New Jedi Order a great debt for my rescue within the bowels of that unholy place. It is an honor to meet you, I look forward to working alongside you and the others toward a brighter future for the galaxy."

The old man leaned in once more with a near-whisper of his own, "The New Jedi Order have my utmost support. If there is anything this old Jedi can help the NJO with, say the word." He leaned back and basked in the ambience around them, he had not heard such sweet music in a long long time.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Inanna Harth

He let out the slightest hum at the information provided. Elbow resting on the arm of his chair, fist coming to rest under his chin as the information was filed away to be recalled later. Now at least he had the names of those on the strike team that had been sent out. He'd get in contact with Jakku once the opportunity arose to see if they had been in contact with their wayward Jedi at all.

Or if they had sensed their comrades rejoining The Force.

"All the more reason to get in contact with any local resistance. With luck, the Jedi made contact with others. Possibly even your father. Now that I have names, we can start to track them down." Came his even reply, the slightest of nods. "If your people naturally attempt to blend into the environment. It will make any effort to assist them difficult until communications were opened." Their natural shapeshifting abilities were a double-edged sword in this regard. How could one coordinate rescue when you could not find the people you were trying to help?

"Now in regards to the Hyperspace route. That is a more delicate situation. All the more reason why we cannot send a liberation force on short notice." he explained, tone sympathetic, wondering just how to best approach that situation. The Pirate Queen might have a bone to pick and would be willing to keep quiet and not report any Alliance activity in the area. And it is not like revealing that the route exists would put either world in danger. Astrogation was such a delicate thing after all. Even if someone knew that a route was possible. It would still be an arduous, time-consuming task to plot out a route.

He could possibly count on the pirate queen of Bakura to want to get even. But it had been some time since he visited that world. He did not know if things had changed. "It would be a delicate thing to handle. But aone that could be managed." He was not going to discuss anything resembling potential negotiations with the Eternal Empire here. Not where so many could be listening in. Not with someone unconnected to the Galactic Alliance.

He was an open, honest person by nature. But he was no fool. He knew when to keep things on a need-to-know basis.

"What of the Brotherhood Forces on the planet itself?" He asked, brow quirking under the veil. An unconscious gesture that Mirluka did not have. Their own eyes having faded long ago, they never relied on such facial shifts to convey emotion. "I cannot imagine many Warlords of note are stationed there full time. But if you have any information on their forces. That would be invaluable."

 

[Auteme]

DARKCOM | Open-ish​

She smiled. "You have a knack for flattery, Senator," she said. "Perhaps I'm used to preempting others to underestimate me."

Her eyes twinkled at that. She was, after all, far younger than the vast majority of Senators, and often far less experienced. She'd spent most of her meetings staying silent or passive, only to blindside her political opposition with focused criticism and skilled oration. Now, though, they'd begun to adapt. Byss saw her as a vocal opponent. She found herself often at odds with the Corporatists. And despite the scandals involving the New Jedi Order, she'd somehow managed to insulate her political reputation.

No more underestimation. No more hiding. She'd grown far too much to keep to the sidelines. To step into the light, to level the playing field -- she'd need a great many things. First, she'd need to learn more about how to take that step.

Kaigann seemed genuine in his offer and demeanor; Auteme was quick to trust. She clasped her hands together in her lap. "I can't say we're in any dire need at the moment -- but I am curious. How was it that you rose so quickly to the office of Senator of Epoch? It hasn't been long since your rescue from the Brotherhood. A meteoric rise, in my opinion."

 

[DARKCOM]

Tags: Auteme

The Epochian let out another chuckle under his breath, looking at Auteme through the corner of his eye as the vocals of the extravagant talent below touched the depths of his soul. He let out a small sigh and exhaled, "That's unfortunate to hear, to always be on the defensive, to always expect opposition or misjudgement. It sounds exhausting."

His hand rose in gesture, turning on it's side to expose his open palm as he spoke plainly. "I must admit my opposition was at a disadvantage. My direct connection to the Royal bloodline and past history as a Jedi Knight returning from the grave after so long made me a hero overnight to the Epochian people."

The Senator shifted his gaze and gave the Jedi Knight his full attention, "After my rescue I had a second lease on life, a new outlook. I decided to make use of it, to make a difference in any way I could." He let out a small grin, "I contacted the palace and threw my lot in. With their backing and the support of the people, my victory was assured."

Kaigann smiled warmly before shifting his gaze away once more, captivated by the performance at hand. "My mentor taught me long ago, everytime you speak you are auditioning for leadership and a wise leader always leads from within not above."

"If I wanted to make a difference, I had to become a leader, a voice for the people."

 

[Inanna Harth]

“No information of the sort,” Inanna replied. “I don’t know who the Warlord of Lao-mon is…”

Though even as she spoke, a name came to mind.

“ Maestus ? Does that name mean anything to you?” She was unsure if it was the right answer.

Aaran Tafo​

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Location: Opera House, Lobby
Interaction: Open
Attire

Far be it for Seto to be a critic of Opera, it was not his favorite sort of social event but it was tradition for many Nobles to attend such events. As a noble himself it was customary to attend them, regardless of what Seto personally felt even if he was told that he’ll eventually enjoy them. It takes time to develop a fondness for such artistic events. Seto wearily thought to himself of this blatant lie being peddled to him. But he had to admit, it was one of the easiest ways to gather funds from rich noble families and corporations wishing to get some favors from one another. Seto would have to keep track where the credits of this charity goes, after he had donated nearly two million credits of his own personal funds.

The news coverage alone barely is worth half that sadly. Seto eyed the crowd around him, noticing a few familiar faces that represented news organizations. The young Du Couteau heir had already spoken to many of them, but doubted the viewership was there for most of them, especially since Seto had slowly built his own following back on Empress Teta. News Organizations no longer held the largest market share of Media, especially when it was far too easy for someone like Seto engineer publicity stunts to garner more attention for himself.

Like this charity. Seto eyed his data-slate, offering him a display of a few numbers tracking engagement of the news coverage thus far. He was never a fan of the idiom ‘No News was Good News’, to him no news was terrible for the preservation of public attention. Better to burn bright, than to fade and flicker.

The lobby began to grow in volume as increased chatter broke Seto’s focus, his ears picking up that the Chancellor had arrived and furthermore the show was about to begin. Noticing a decent amount of people not heading into the auditorium, showed Seto that he wasn’t the only one uninterested in Opera and such theatrical showcases. It was a slight comfort to see that he wasn’t some uncultured Noble from Wild Space, Though it would be a change of criticism of me.

Ever smiling, his eyes glanced around for refreshments and moved through the crowd.
​

 

[Ishana Chandra]

Imma Keep You Up, Boy
Accompanying: Adhira Chandra // Aarav Chandra // Pavati Chandra
Annoyed By: Ryv

From the moment she had stepped out of the escort cruiser, in the wake of her parents and niece, Adhira knew that she would regret agreeing to this ridiculous farce. Make no mistake, Ishana Chandra played the role of "first daughter" perfectly in public. As she gracefully disembarked in her flowing black dress, she smiled warmly and waved widely at the press and gathered fans who were apparently not important enough to make it inside the event. Unlike most of the galactic governments, her mother, while powerful, was not royalty. She was not a princess. But she was important because her mother was important. That was not always a bad thing.

Though, lately, the only thing the press seemed to be interested in was her "unconfirmed" fling with the illustrious Sword the Jedi, Ryv Karris. Those were the questions that people hurled at her as she smiled and waved her way into the opera house. She knew that her mother was punishing her. She had to be. What else would explain the hell she walked in, now? Still, Ishana smiled graciously, even briefly held the hand of a rodian child that had come out to see all of the most important people on Coruscant.

Ashanti was the one who usually got dragged to public functions, but she was back on Balmorra still, dealing with business. Whatever that meant. "Oh good, the whole of the Alliance is about to watch us... watch something," she muttered, "the banality has plunged to new depths."

When her family stepped into the glaring spotlight, Ishana immediately remembered why she so despised public events as a member of the Chandra family. As a member of the "First Family." The trumpets blared, the anthem played, the people cheered. And Ishana's eyes rolled. When the embarrassment had finally ended - or so she thought - Ishana retreated back into her chair and tried to mentally prepare herself for the most boring 2 hours of her life. But even as she prepared to draw a secret flask from her gown, something far worse reared its ugly head.

Ishana wished unreservedly that she could sink inside the chair rather than just into its cushion. This was very obviously punishment for the scandal, she thought as Ryv Karris walked past her before plopping into the seat next to her. "Please," she started, horrified, "Tell me she did not invite you?" Ishana had nothing but daggers for her mother, but she could almost see the vague hint of satisfaction from the old woman.​

 

[Adhira Chandra]

The Chancellor's Box
Accompanied By: Aarav Chandra | Ishana Chandra | Pavati Chandra
| Ryv
Protected By: The Senate Guard & The New Jedi Order

Adhira had been holding Aarav's hand for a good 10 minutes now and not once did he pull away from her. Their marriage had been strained lately with her time commitment split fairly unevenly between the war effort and her family. It had placed a strain on their relationship, to say the least, but, as she expected he was aware of the eyes on them, he had been far more affectionate than usual in public. It was something she was more than happy to settle for given the recent distance between them and she gently stroked the side of his hand with her thumb. Until Ryv appeared, that is, then Aarave winced as her nails dug into his dusky skin. "Dear.." he warned, gently prising his hand from her own in fear of another spasm.

The old woman mastered herself with a deep eye-roll and turned to peer down at the operatic display, but the Jedi Knight came to greet her anyway which made her wish she were clasping a hand she could crush. For the last few weeks, the press in the Alliance and far outside it had been covering stories of a supposed recording of Ryv Karris leaving her daughter's apartment on Coruscant. The nature of that meeting was unclear to her for certain, but the rumors were rampant. The two were apparently an item now and Ishana refused to tell her anything about it. So, Adhira did what any sensible mother with ear unlimited political power would do - she invited Ryv to an event he could not refuse to attend and sat them next to each other.

Her dark eyes flitted to Ryv as he greeted her rather informally and the Chancellor inclined her head. "Of course, Master Jedi," he had once implored her to call him Ryv and she remembered that moment spitefully now, "I would not dream of attending such an important even -- honoring the brave service of our soldiers... and our Jedi without their chosen leader beside me." Her smile, dark painted lips, was not warm, but it was a smile all the same. Her husband jolted and when she looked over, she was surprised to see that he was stifling a chuckle, which only egged her on.

"I was glad you were able to join us, given your busy schedule," she added before motioning to her daughter, "I believe you've met my daughter, Ishana?"
​

​

 

[Ryv]

The Chancellor's Box

Annoying Apparently
Adhira Chandra | Ishana Chandra | Others

Ishana's question earned her one of Ryv's telltale smiles. He could've answered her, sure. It likely would've made the evening easier for the both of them. Unfortunately for the Chancellor and her daughter, he had a knack for reading emotions. Empathy came easily. Even surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands of prying eyes and roaring voices, he subconsciously found the threads weaving the family together. He subtly tugged his way from one Chandra to the next. A neglected husband, tirelessly awaiting the end of a war, silently suffering as he put on another show to support his ever distant wife. A wife and mother who neglected her familial ties in favor of civic duty. It weighed heavily on her, maybe more than the mantle of galactic leadership.

Ryv's smirk turned into a somber smile when he met Adhira's cold gaze.

"Yeah, I've run into Ishana once or twice," he nodded her way. "There was the uh- charity gala a couple months back, I wanna say. Aaaand we crossed paths grabbing coffee a few days ago outside the assembly building? We chatted a bit there. I think your chauffeur wasn't around, right, Ishana?" he looked her way. "Gave her a ride home on my bike since I had a bit of free time."

His attention shifted away from the small gathering towards the bustling crowds spread throughout the massive chamber. Somewhere out there, Auteme and other Jedi were mingling with the Alliance's elite and less-than-affluent alike. It never dawned on the kiffar fighting a war would lead to such an affair. Life was easier at the start, back when they'd shipped off to Muunilist. Each planet thereafter stole something from him: his arm, his friends, and even his time. Now there were expectations of public appearances beside the Chancellor and her people. How obtuse.

After his brief period of contemplation, Ryv looked back to the Chancellor.

"I've been out of the action until recently. My schedule has been entirely diverted to hospital time. Comas aren't amazing for free time, you know?" he pulled out his phone from a pocket within his jacket. "Say cheese, boss," he flipped around and held his phone up to snap a picture of the Chancellor and her husband. "You too, Ishana," he rotated in his chair, lifted his fingers in an exaggerated peace sign, and snapped another selfie with the agitated Chandra.

He slipped the phone away and patted his chest with a chuckle.

 

[Adhira Chandra]

The Chancellor's Box
Accompanied By: Aarav Chandra | Ishana Chandra | Pavati Chandra
| Ryv
Protected By: The Senate Guard & The New Jedi Order

Adhira Chandra and Ryv Karis shared a relatively cordial relationship. She was not nearly as close with the Sword as she had grown to be with the Shield, Auteme , someone she often viewed as a former and future protege. Still, they were partners in the war effort, coordinating his Jedi and her armies to wreak havoc on the Sith. Yet, even despite this history of friendliness, the Chancellor now found herself imagining what it would feel like to punch a full-grown man in the gut. When he mentioned her daughter, it was a particularly potent feeling, but she swallowed her malcontent and smiled.

"Well I am glad there was such a valiant young man there to assist," she hid her distaste behind a thin veneer of professionalism, "and I was truly relieved to hear about your miraculous recovery from the com-"

Before she could finish what would likely have been the only genuine expression of the evening thus far, the young Jedi whipped out a device and snapped two candid pictures of her and her family. The brief flash of light made her blink, though she did catch sight of her husband in the lense smiling up at the camera while she simply looked bemused, if not slightly annoyed. The robed figures around the perimeter of the box shifted but stood down when they realized the Chancellor was in no danger. For a moment she was not sure whether she would have preferred they just shoot him and get it over with.

"Well," she forced through tight lips, "that certainly was... something." Reflecting, Adhira noted that this was likely the first time a so-called "selfie" had ever been taken of her. There were worse people she could be pictured with. Still, this entire interaction had only served to frustrate her. The old woman felt her husband's hand slide over hers on the armrest, a motion that she knew was meant to keep her from saying anything she would regret. "We must remember to get a proper photo before the evening has concluded..."

"So, Ryv," it was one of the few times she had referred to him in such an informal way, harkening back to their very first meeting, "we have not had the pleasure of speaking for quite some time. I am always interested to know your thoughts on the ongoing war efforts against the Sith?" It was a sharp change of pace, breakneck, even. She smiled blithely at him.
​

 

[Jaster Awaud]

- It had been some time since Jaster was in the political air and huff puff of civilized culture. He was a strong supporter of the Republic of past as well as working along the Alliance in the past. He sold much of his raw materials to the Alliance as of late and since his return he was required to make a public appearance. The Old Mandalorian was a businessman first and as the CEO of the United Trade Conglomerate this was his first public appearance in some years. He was always willing to work behind the curtains, but in his absence the company was faltering with the intervention of the Bryn'adûl and the Brotherhood. Much of his supply lines and mining worlds were now cut off. He was still able to smuggle much of his goods past the lines of the extortionist governments, but worlds like Teth and Osseriton were worlds of important to the Conglomerate. He would need to find a way to deal with those situations, it was a workforce that was greatly diminished after all the enslavement and cleansing.

- Jaster walked into the Opera House and did his best to blend in with the others. However, it was not hard to spot the large Cyborg in a suite that was one size too small for him. After his reincarnation through the Force and attaching all the Cybernetics he was three inches taller and carried a wider chest. He really needed to thing about getting a new suite, not thinking any of his old cloths would not fit him anymore. The Elderly man, now towing the line in his late 50's had been in the far reaches of the outer rim and past the void in search of something. He only returned to the normal society because his search had failed. Being here now though, he really did wish to return to the deep space and get away from the crowds.

- The Elderly cyborg walked up to the donation booth and pulled out a credit chip. "How much did Twoozer tell him to Donate to the Fund, oh thats right."

- Jaster placed the credit chip to his data pad and transferred the credits. After doing so he handed it over to the clerk and waited for the transfer to be completed. It had been a long time since he had to pay for anything. If he needed anything he would just intimidate, fight, or blackmail those he needed it from. He honestly didn't even know how much the Credit was nowadays so donating some to the fallen warriors didn't bother him too much.

- The Clerk looked wide eyed back at Jaster, "Sir, are you sure this is the amount you wish to donate, please check again."

- Jaster looked at his data pad, it was correct. Twoozer was a Tactical Droid, so there is no way he would give him a wrong number. He looked back to the Clerk, and in his deep and intimidating voice he spoke up. "I see no mistake, it is the correct amount."

- The Clerk looked a little scared, but nodded, "Of course sir, Twenty-Five Million Credits is much appreciated sir, please enjoy the show."

- The older looking man with scares on the human side of his face and the deep red robotic eye nodded back at the civilian man. He took his ticket and walked to the bar to get a quick drink. The UTC was the second largest trade and transport company in the galaxy, second only to the Arceneau Trade Company. It was still a thorn in his side that the women still held the title, but he had other business to deal with. Keeping in the good graces of the GA was something he was sent here to do. As such he just had to be polite and shake a few senators hands.

- Hopefully the night would not last too long.

 

[Auteme]

DARKCOM
​

Auteme smiled. There was a genuineness to the Senator's voice. He attributed much of his success to his previous actions, and doubtless that played a part in his election, but... "You have a good voice for that, I think."

Her eyes wandered down, then back up, as if tracing the soaring vocals of the performers below. "I have the same view. Systemic change, leadership -- you need to be a part of things. You need to know your people, know how and when to compromise, all that. You can't look down. Just as difficult to look from the outside."

Her brow furrowed. "I've entrenched myself in many ways, but- I don't feel as though I've affected as much change as I would've liked," she said. "I, ah, want to become a Senator. As is, I don't have a vote, only a voice; and while that's a lot, I know I can do more -- more than just being a Jedi.

"I suppose I'd like to follow in your footsteps." She looked to Kaigann and smiled again.