Faction A New Dawn l Alliance Inauguration

[Mirellia]

The Outlander Club
Open​

Alcohol.

The thing worth coming for. Not to be confused with the other benefits to arriving to an affair like this. Food, dresses, easy convo, the excuse to light a cigar-- Work mode LITE, as she called it. Mirellia needed no further encouragement to accept her invitation to the inauguration across the borders.

As a simple politician for Commenor, with no connection to the Concord that found its capitol at her home, Mirellia believed herself to be a minor politician. All the better for her skim by undetected, if you asked her. Work matters and nightlife never mixed well in her book.

"My man. Whiskey sour. Use that blue juice." She tapped the bar, grinning good naturedly at the tender who took her order. He tipped his head, giving the golden-clad woman a smile to mirror her own as he flipped a glass over and got to pouring. She turned in place, taking a deep breathe the fresh air. The energy of the gathering built in her chest, invigorating her as she quietly drank in the rich atmosphere of the rich celebrating.

It was good to be her.

 

[Ava Cartwright-Pryce]

Outlander Club
Coruscant

​

"Goodnight, sweet babies. Mommy and Daddy love you."

Boy time flies when you're having fun! The "two's" were both terrific and terrible all at the same time.

The last time Ava and Dracken Pryce were on Coruscant was for the Unity Celebration. It also was the day that they were blessed with Gabriel and Gabriella Pryce as the twin babies were born in the wee hours just after the ceremony was over with. The look on the proud yet scared spitless Corellian's face when he got to hold his newborn son and daughter for the first time... Well, it was priceless - no pun intended, maybe.

Now here they were once again on the capital world of the Galactic Alliance yet for another celebration. This time for a new Chancellor. Gabe and Gabby had been left on Corellia in the care of their loving nanny so that their parents could have some time to themselves. But of course, this wasn't just a pleasure trip for the military couple. The High Admiral of the GA's Third Sector Fleet had business to attend to as usual with the brass.

Ever since the children came along, "Goldilocks" had curtailed her active combat status, giving up command of Wildcat Squadron. Instead, the Wing Commander at the time chose to stay closer to home working directly with the Corellian Defense Force and their Starfighter Corps as a Flight Instructor while Dracken was on the front lines of the Braxant Run Campaign as an ally with the New Imperial Order in the fight against the Sith Empire. She sure was glad though that campaign was over with as he had another near-death experience when the Starchild II fell in the space battle above Borosk. At least this time the admiral hadn't ended up in a medbay clinging to life like at Kuat, though his beloved Corellian VI, Garvey, had gone down with the ship.

The tall blonde ended the comm call and slipped her iComm back into her dress uniform pocket. She like Dracken had her rank and earned medals in the service of the Galactic Alliance displayed along with ones from the Alliance-in-Exile, Corellian Federation, and The Republic. A Rogue Squadron commemorative pin was also worn. Ava wasn't trying to show off, it was the truth of her dedication to duty over the years. It had been a long road the two had traveled together ever since the Battle of Fondor during the Endgame plot hatched by the Lady of Secrets, but worth every trial and tribulation along the way to get where they were now.

As the Ralltiiri made her way through the crowd from the Outlander's lobby to the bar, steel blue orbs picked up on old faces and new. She approached the small group gathered with Dracken and leveled a friendly smile at Olen Halcorr and Frielle Kinniak, both pilots Ava knew from previous interactions. The other three 'youthful' faces were unfamiliar to her.

"Miss Kinniak, Commander Halcorr... It's good to see you both again," Ava greeted with a respectful cant of her golden head, then she introduced herself to Alex Locke , Qell Auraeli , and Caldon Tenneth .

"Hello, I'm Ava Cartwright... The Admiral's better half," she quipped lightly, giving the Corellian a sly wink, then the storied commander caught the bartender's eye. "I'll have one of those drinks as well, please."

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Ballroom
OBJECTIVE: Mingle
ALLIES: Open
POST: I

Months earlier, Aerarii Tithe would have entered the ballroom through means of a grand announcement, an entrance worthy of coverage by the holonews the following morning.

But given his current situation as a former Sith-Imperial Moff, on the run and the subject of a substantial bounty, arriving surreptitiously was his preference. The Strategic Intelligence Agency had given him temporary citizenship and freedom of movement through the Core worlds, but had stopped short of his much-desired official pardon. As such, his life was currently one lived half in the shadows, which severely hampered his efforts to rebuild his life.

The invite to the inauguration ball of Adhira Chandra , courtesy of his Trade Federation board position, was a welcomed change from the weeks spent hammering out a deal with the SIA to secure asylum. Today his could mix and mingle with the powerful elite of the Galactic Alliance, a perfect opportunity to make important contacts and connections. His success of next move after securing his full freedom would rely on favours such as those he secured tonight. He could think of no safer place to…

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the familiar face of Ingrid L'lerim . Aerarii stumbled backwards and he frantically looked around for somewhere to hide, knocking over a busboy in the process. Ingrid could be attending in any of her dozen of official capacities, including Empress Regent. But he was most concerned by her reputation as a skilled assassin and her links to the Sith Empire courtesy of her finance, the Dark Councillor AMCO . Hopeful that hadn’t been seen, Tithe grabbed another drink to replace the one he had dropped and made sure to move through the crowd in the opposite direction.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: The Senate Plaza, Coruscant
Equipment: Gildenweave Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink
Escort: 4/4 Wolfguards as Honour Gard (they are watching her from a distance)
Tag(s): Aerarii Tithe | Open

As Ingrid continued to watch the crowd, at first she felt only fear and fright through the Force. Since this was quite unusual here, she immediately looked at where she felt it was. Another familiar person, as she spotted Aerarii Tithe, knew right away that the strong emotion had come in her direction. Did the man think that the Sith Empire had sent the woman for his capture or assassination? The former moff was close to the woman's fiancé, AMCO , who wasn't too happy about the moff's betrayal.

But the man was lucky tonight, Ingrid wasn't here because of him. In fact, she probably wouldn’t have been tired of hunting him down personally because she never had any contact with the other. Of course, the man didn't have to know about that. In any case, she had always wanted to get to know him, and there was no better time for this than this one. Because she had proficiency in it, she set off in the crowd as unobtrusively as possible, disappearing from the man's eyes.

Although she was tall, as a trained assassin, it was the least that she could move among others without being noticed by the one she didn’t want. The man was already scared enough, so maybe what she wanted worked. If Ingrid successfully arrives behind the man, she clears her throat to draw attention to herself.

”Aerarii Tithe, I'm glad we finally met in person. I was actually hoping for this meeting months ago, I’ve heard so much about you. I hope you are not so terrified of me. In the end you break my heart…”

She glanced sadly at the man for a few moments, then a kind, disarming, professional smile appeared on her lips. It made the woman’s face look like if someone hadn’t known she was a trained assassin, no one would ever have told that, she could hurt or kill anyone. In the end, she also held out her hand to the man for a handshake.

​

 

[Ben Craig]

Ben Craig
Chairman of the Union ; Director of The Military Department of Advanced Weapons Research; CEO of N&Z Umbrella Corporation​

Location: Coruscant , Upper Level
Dress: Link
Tags: Tristan Evore , Ingrid L'lerim , Adhira Chandra , Taji Nelson , Open

​

"Do not worry Grand Admiral, I have the people's blessing." He nodded and smiled to a politician he had met before. "The oligarchy has been taken care of. You should be thankful that you've remained in your position Grand Admiral." It was true that the elites of the Union had been taken care of. During his long time within the Zweihander Union, he had made many allies and enemies within the oligarchy. They were the backbone of the Union. The financial supporters, some were the Union's founders. When his administration took over, he made sure to replace those that were incompetent or were a threat. The recently promoted Grand Admiral was cunning and wise and did prove to be efficient in battle, but nevertheless he was one of Credius 's biggest supporters. He would have to keep an eye on the man.

Ben raised his glass in unison with Tristan. "Never been more ready." He gave a final smile to the man before making his way over to the Chancellor herself. He stopped himself when he saw a man in a quite interesting attire approach the lady herself and made quite a scene. The Chancellor's entourage intervened. "Interesting." People who had noticed the interaction stopped what they were doing and watched with curiosity. Who was so bold and reckless to do this.

Ben scanned the various faces within the crowd and noticed the Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire herself. He gave a simple nod. They had much to discuss but now wasn't the time. He finished his glass and placed it down on a nearby server's tray.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location | Coruscant

It had been nearly half a decade since Sularen had been on Coruscant and that was when he was a Prestigious Duke in the Grayson Imperium destined to rule Corellia and it's neighbouring world's with the potential of becoming even the Chancellor of the Alliance only if that bastard Cedric Grayson never sacked him and if his little Jedi Sidekick Allyson Halle never betrayed and denounced him on Just destroying any chances of resurgence.Ever since the events on Kuat , Marlon Sularen had lost his Prestige , his Glory and his rights to individuals he brought forward to the galactic stage to individuals who did not even deserve what they had and now he was here , to see a Former Jedi according to his sources become Chancellor of the Alliance , the very scum that had ruined his life and taken everything away from him.

Despite his anger , Sularen kept Calm , because it was here where he would make a spectacular resurgence for a few weeks ago after the debate regarding the Confederate Question , the Lord-Imperator of Byss Vonar Ardinn had mysteriously resigned and Sularen had quickly moved forth to maneuver himself into becoming his successor defeating his rival candidates during a rapid election to determine the next Lord-Imperator of Byss. While officially the Lord-Imperator of Byss , Sularen had yet to make an announcement regarding the circumstances that occured on Byss but he thought making a public appearance here on Coruscant would give some people a hint that something happened on Byss.

As the celebrations for the ascension of Adhira Chandra went by , Sularen spotted some familiar faces notably his former subordinates Ben Craig and Tristan Evore and he went to met them having not seen their faces ever since the separation of the Zweihander Union from the Directorate. "Well , well , well look what we got here. Ben Craig and Tristan Evore. It's been a while" Marlon said smiling as he greeted the two men. "How have things been going in the Unknown Regions and where's Credius it'd be nice to see him after we resolved our "issues" Sularen asked somewhat intrigued at the absence of Credius Nargath who did not seem to be present today , but nevertheless meeting the two men was satisfactory and atleast the first interaction he had for over a year after spending alot of time in exile on Tsoss Beacon.

 

[Qell Auraeli]

T H E . O U T L A N D E R . C L U B
U S C R U . D I S T R I C T , . C O R U S C A N T

______________________________________________________________

O P E N . I N T E R A C T I O N . P A N I C
______________________________________________________________
​

Perhaps it was her karmic just desserts for enjoying Alex's frantic anxiety play out below that Qell received some of her own.

An unfamiliar, yet authoritative voice from behind caught her off guard and caused her to whirl, surprise turning to abject panic at the bevy of rank insignias suddenly thrust before her. The man had more ribbon than an Alderaanian debutant at a fall gala. Automatically her training kicked in and saw her heels brought together, back becoming ramrod straight and the look of panic on her lightly freckled features schooled away as she attempted a crisp salute. Would have almost nailed it, too, if it wasn't for the beret still clutched in her hand, the motion causing the metal badge hitting her in the eyebrow.

"Ow, feeeeeee-" She winced and not just from the pain, "--aaaaancy seeing you here, High Admiral, ah, sir."

Excellent recovery, Auraeli. Solid 6.5 from the Humbarine Judge.

"Uh, not that you shouldn't be here, sir..." She corrected as another officer, a commander, and a woman who's rank she couldn't quite catch appeared. "...Sirs... Ma'am... I just wasn't, um, expecting anyone. Not that you're anyone but..."

Oh force, was that her voice? Was she still talking? Pull up, pilot, pull up.

"Ahhh..." She trailed off and took a steady breath before loosening her salute, affecting a sheepish smile as she dropped her hand to her side and resumed her position at the railing. "Sorry. I'm just... Pre-deployment jitters, I guess. Today's the first day they've let us out in a while and it's all been a little crazy."

"And not yet, sir." She shook her head at Olen's question, "We're both supposed to be receiving our stations tomorrow and shipping out the day after. Scuttlebutt has it that most of this year's class is being deployed with the 212, but beyond that we're in the dark as to squadrons."

She flashed Alex the coded smile of 'holy feth, dude, help me out' as she appeared at that moment, drinks and... Jedi in tow? Her brow arched as she helped herself to one of the flutes. She would have to tease her about that later. Right now she was just glad to her friend and some Corellian courage to help her through this. Shame about the food, though.

"Flight Officer Qellian Auraeli, ma'am." the Alderaanian K'paur offered, "Although everyone calls me Qell. It's, um, an honour to meet you all. Here. Like this."

______________________________________________________________

Alex Locke Dracken Pryce Frielle Kinniak
Olen Halcorr Ava Cartwright-Pryce Caldon Tenneth
______________________________________________________________
​

 

[Faith Organa]

Location: The Ballroom
Tags: Open, Tristan Evore , Ingrid L'lerim

Her gaze swept the room for a familiar face, there were still so many among the planets of the Alliance that she did not know or recognize. She had been shocked when Emmen Tagge stepped down there were no whispers against him. She also was not surprised to see Adhira Chandra to come to power. Her presence had been felt throughout the core.

She would congratulate the new Chancellor somewhere in this crowd she had to be surrounded by well wishers, quote getters, and those that liked being near power. For this occasion she had sent word to Marina DeVoe to see if the young woman wanted to come for some elbow rubbing, high visibility and exposure to others in the diplomatic circles.

She would find a drink to occupy her hands, and begin the smile and nod program that she had become so familiar with.

 

[Bernard of Arca]

Earlier that day ...

"You want me to what?" Bernard asked.

"Look, Bern, you're the only one the Marshal'll trust with this job. The other deputies will be out doing external security. You're also a Jedi working with us, which makes you the perfect pick for this job," Sarn answered.

Bernard's face was unreadable, as always, but Sarn swore he recognized a trace of exasperation in those marble white eyes.

---

Ballroom, Party Place

"Here you are, senator Septum."

The Senator scrutinized the server for several moments while he held the delicate glass out towards her.

He stood as an exemplar of grace. His white hair was tied with meticulous precision to appear both casual and refined. The server's clothes he wore were impeccably clean and tailored to suit, composed of a matte black shirt and vest with dress trousers to match. They conveyed just enough class to complement the elevated dress code while maintaining a simplicity of identity that clearly distinguished the men and women wearing them as service staff.

"You're tall for a server," she said. The look of suspicion remained even as she finally accepted the drink and took a sip of the colourfully sparkling liquid.

"Would that be all?" He replied.

The senator's scrutiny lingered on him for a few more moments, then she nodded and turned back to her company.

Bernard bowed, keeping the full tray of similar drinks perfectly still throughout the motion, and turned to continue through the crowd.

The ballroom wasn't very packed. Most politicians had formed small groups of between two and ten individuals. There was an order that dictated who would associate with whom. Most of the major players, representing galaxy-spanning corporations, major industrial centres, or influential and respected names in the Alliance kept to themselves, for the most part, rarely seen with anyone who didn't belong to the same social rung of the galactic socioeconomic ladder. They conversed among themselves, sparring and bartering on a battlefield of words for prestige and support from their fellows in all manner of things, though chiefly the political. During the uncertain period of transition from one government to the next, each political clique liked to take stock of their allies and their enemies upon the senate floor.

It made Bernard's skin crawl. All the charades and deception were too reminiscent of the Jedi's sworn enemies. All around him, he saw the economics of power and the ripples they created for the common citizen. He continued wandering along the route he'd sketched based on the blueprints the Marshals provided.

Perhaps he was being too cynical.

 

[Auteme]

Bernard of Arca ​

"Excuse me, would you mind-" Her words stopped coming when she saw his face, whatever request forgotten. "Bernard?"

Auteme hadn't expected him to be here, much less in staff clothing for the night. She, of course, had dressed in her best clothes for the celebration; her usual mix of greens and a few simple pieces of jewelry to match. It was only right. Adhira was someone she admired and someone she trusted to succeed the now-former Chancellor Tagge. Auteme had already given the new Chancellor her best wishes and reaffirmed the Jedi's support; she'd just needed to look the part.

Bernard, though, she'd never thought she'd see at an event like this, and not like this. Where was his saber? Why was his hair back like that? Why was he dressed as a server? Normally, he was so... so...

What was he, normally? She wasn't the one to say. They hadn't seen each other in months; a few times she'd spotted him in the halls of the Coruscant Temple, never close enough for her to follow and talk to him. Looking at him up close now was a bit of a shock. He'd changed -- grown a bit, she thought. His presence was different. His posture, too, but that might've just been him playing a part. The fact that he was playing a part was probably one of the largest changes. She'd heard he'd done work with the Marshals but didn't know any details.

It was the yellow synthskin that drew her eyes, though. The lines of skin grafts ran up his neck to his face, and even at a glance she could tell that whatever had wounded him wasn't natural. A twisted energy lingered.

She lingered, staring at the Arkanian in search of familiarity. "You, um, look different," she said.

Her hands moved around, searching for the right spot before she forced them to clasp and settle, resting just bellow her stomach. A bit of confidence returned as a first question tumbled out, soon followed by several more. "How are you? We haven't talked in forever. What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that? Do you actually work here? What happened to your face? Do you need me to heal it?"

Pause.

"Are you alright?"

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Quite the motley crew had gathered around the two new recruits. Probably more than they bargained for on their first night out of the barracks. He wasn't aware that they were so strict on this side of the Core. But that was the price you paid when you graduated from Coruscant. No slackers here, only the best of the best flew out of this planet...Or so they liked to think. A timely reminder of that fact sidled up beside him as he took his drink from the other terrified young girl. He chuckled as his arm naturally and absentmindedly slipped around Ava's waist, rolling his eyes slightly as she spoke of her being his better half.

He gave a mock one arm salute to Olen, the gesture looking more like a toast than a military gesture with his flute of bubbly in hand.

"Commander Halcorr," he said joyfully, "Good to see you as well." He shrugged, "The ball isn't really my speed." He shrugged before taking a sip of his drink. He smiled behind his glass at the stammering of the green pilots two pilots. Was he ever that jumpy when he first joined the military all those years ago in the Protectorate? He didn't remember. Most of those years were blocked from his memory. He tried not to think about that era with the One Sith. He felt his old scars start to itch.

"Most people are getting new orders tomorrow Flight Officer." His brow darkened for a moment as his thoughts drifted to why they were reorganizing but after another sip of his drink his celebratory attitude seemed to return. "Well, you'll all see tomorrow." His eyes fell on the Jedi and the lightsaber hanging loosely at his belt. He was a friend to the Jedi, but even he felt a little nervous with such a young man walking around, drink in hand with a weapon like that hanging at his hip.

Qell Auraeli Ava Cartwright-Pryce Olen Halcorr
Alex Locke Caldon Tenneth Frielle Kinniak ​

 

[Adhira Chandra]

​

The new Chancellor of the Alliance stood for a moment, sizing up the brash young human corpo as he posed his querie. The entire thing seemed incredibly bizarre to her. Admittedly, though it is a question that newly elected leaders of Galactic Nations were infrequently posed and one that she thought might give more of them pause for thought as it had done so to her, now. Gently, she crossed her jeweled hands over her navel and smiled. "Well, I certainly thank you for this thoughtful question, young man," she began, measuring her words, knowing there were eyes and cameras on her even now.​

​

"Each citizen of the Alliance - and indeed, all sentient life - must be afforded the dignity of self-determination, the right to seek out fulfillment in this galaxy and to be allowed the means to do," Adhira continued some of her very first political speeches, "while I am Chancellor, I shall endeavor, always, to do all of the good that I can, for all of the people I can, in all the ways I can, for as long as I can." The man may not have known then, but this simple phrase would become Adhira's creed. The old woman sensed the guard was ready to move on and smiled her agreement as they set off in the direction of more dignitaries.​

​

In truth, she had prepared herself for a much more forceful onslaught of opinions. It had mostly turned out to be just empty compliments and congratulations. That fickle little slug Gat Tambor had not even bothered to attend apparently.​

​

​

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Qell Auraeli + Alex Locke
Dracken Pryce / Olen Halcorr
Frielle Kinniak / Ava Cartwright-Pryce
Caldon Tenneth
​

In what she could only consider a throwback to her childhood, Frea had found herself stuck in a social gathering. The gentleman before her insisted on talking about his success as a nerf baron on some backwater planet on the edge of the territories while his wife glanced around the room with a puffed up face displaying the telltale signs of terminal boredom. He told this story to everyone they met, and quite frankly she was done with it. And although hollow, the smile on Frea’s lips was one that only widened as the lady had interrupted her husband to drag her and Frea away as an excuse to stop listening.​

An unspoken measure of gratitude was expressed between them as they went their separate ways. The wife towards the biggest bar she could find, and Frea towards whatever seemed to be the highest point in the room. The dress uniform had been tailored to her specifications and measurements, the evening’s hairdo and style being more than enough to send the signals that ‘hey, I am a good soldier, but look out for my inner rebel.’ Or well, at least as much of such a statement as she could get away with.​

The moment she reached the top of a flight of stairs she began to give the room a glance to find the Answer and Question to the trio that had become known to most — or rather, mostly themselves — as F.A.Q. Words were to be had about leaving her with that baron, and drinks were to be had for literally any reason that Frea could think of.​

There in the crowd she could spot an anxious Alex leaving the bathroom, and not all too far away she could see a Qell talking to…​

To…​

Oh no.​

It was a hurried set of dress shoes that made haste down the stairs. While Qell would do fine for a time, if there was one thing Frea was good at it was keeping a conversation and focus on herself or whoever it was that she talked about. Not out of choice, but because years as a child model would turn any kid with a lack of self-respect into masterful brown-nose. Yeah, those days had passed but that didn’t mean the lessons had grown any less useful than it had back then. With a sleek grab of a glass off of a passing busboy’s tray she swept into the conversation between Qell and seemingly just about the entire high command of the fleet.​

Well, if ever there was a day to announce your intentions to steal their job in thirty or forty years, right? Right.​

​

“What gives with my lack of invitation, Auraeli?” She flashed her friend a toothy grin and gave the rest of the gathered group a dignified bow. “Sorry that I’m late, traffic was horrible.” She gave a slight nod towards the nerf baron who excitedly waved back at them. Frea quickly turned her back towards him with a grimace and a shake of her head before she turned her focus back to the conversation again. “I hope I didn’t miss anything interesting while I was gone. What are we talking about?”​

It felt like she was forgetting something. Something important when addressing someone of higher rank, but Frea sure couldn't quite figure out what it was. Her warm smile lingered on her lips as she glanced between her friends and the rest of the amassed group.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Ball Room
OBJECTIVE: Mingle
FOCUS: Ingrid L'lerim
POST: II

“Argghh!”

Tithe jumped as someone behind him cleared their throat. There could only be two types of people who would sneak up on him in a public place and announce themselves - someone he had defrauded back in his days as a banker or someone sent by the Sith Empire. Neither options were appealing. He took some solace in the fact this was a public gathering protected by Senate guards - an attempt on his life was unlikely. That, however, didn’t mean that other displeasures would not come his way.

He turned to find himself face to face with Ingrid, the very woman he had been trying to avoid. She greeted him and noted she had been looking forward to meeting him for some time, adding that she was not to be feared.

Aerarii would reserve his judgement on that.

“Empress Regnant L’lerim,” he replied as he offered a bow of courtesy. Even the prospect of having a death mark placed on him didn’t excuse the need to forget one's manners. “The honour is truly mine.”

The Overlord of the Eternal Empire offered a smile rather than a vibroblade to the heart, which was a much better start to the conversation that Aerarii had been expecting. Then again, for all the blood of an assassin on her hands, Ingrid was also a masterful negotiator and diplomat. The position she had been put in my her predecessor was hardly appealing.

“I believe congratulations are in order following your ascension to the throne,” he added. It might be prudent to discuss her recent achievement rather than his, number one of which was betraying the Sith Empire.

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra smiled, walking through the halls of the building on Coruscant, the memories sparking from the time long ago when the Republic stood strong in these halls. Her hand running over a statue's features as she stood there and her wooden staff remained in her hands. She moved like a ghost, not conversing with others and keeping her voice down, smiling at any who would come near her but dismissing them with but a wave as she turned her eyes back on the statue. It was hard to get a hold on the present but she was here to make sure a certain someone did not get in over his head, not for old memories.

Her eyes turned down the hall again, walking with the soft tapping of the wooden pole acting like an aid for her walking, not that she needed it. The body she was in was as young as ever, looking no more than in her early twenties and her blue eyes bright as she made her way for the central hall. There she would turn over the item, not wanting to cause any issues and leaving it with the security for the function. She had chosen to leave her sabers back on her ship, and any other weapons she could have would be missing from her person, atleast they would not be in one peace.

She was dressed in robes, silver as ever and her hands crossed behind her back as she continued to move more like a spirit than a living being. Her feet carried lightly, making the slightest of sounds as she came up behind a old war hero and mercenary now, raising a brow and grinning as she leaned forward, her head appearing to his side.

Just like she always did.

"You know, a suit and a smile would go a long way to getting clients. Right now you look like a father who just got off work picking up his son." She hummed lightly, straightening up and smirking. "Not a good look if you are looking to catch eyes and draw the interest of people, much less women. You really should use every advantage, you are getting a bit on the older side these days." She waited, the smirk still there as she sighed and looked to the side, letting her words settle on the man she knew all too well.

Noah Corek

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Ballroom
Objective: Me to know, and you to find out
Tags: Aerarii Tithe | Ingrid L'lerim

No rest for the weary.

He could’ve enjoy himself with whatever time that he found available, most likely spend it with Rowan Corde and try to patch things up with his wife. Estranged wife that is. He could feel her resentment towards him, but they didn’t separate from each other. They shared the same living spaces, so...what gives? Djorn could make many theories on what was Rowan’s angle. Maybe she still loved him, but was just giving him a hard time; maybe she was waiting for the perfect moment in getting her vengeance on a silver platter; maybe this; maybe that.

Maybe what? If only he could get a piece of the puzzle on her thoughts, he could piece together the rest of the missing pieces. But the Atrisian hid her cards perfectly from her estranged husband. A mark of her excellence in the world of espionage.

He didn’t know if his advances were improving anything between them, but as long as he didn’t wake up with knives in his back he considered that as a win. A win of surviving.

Hopefully those thoughts wouldn’t distract him for what he had come tonight. Djorn didn’t care much of a newly appointed Chancellor for the Alliance, reading the dossier of Adhira didn’t gave much of an impression on Djorn. A former Jedi leading the Alliance? Reminded him of the former government he served being dictated by a Sith. How could anyone not be skeptical about this? Seemed like a scheme from the Jedi to take control over the state. If that was the case, then they’d be the tools of their own destruction.

The Commissioner, under an alias separate from his name, was cleared to attend tonight’s ball as he came with Irveric’s company. The goal of tonight? Make contacts, find some associates. Slither around like a snake. Amongst these civilized people there were allies and enemies, people with interests that conflicted with the Chancellor was his interest. Engaging with the Imperial Bloc would be too obvious, there had to be others outside of that that could be a tool for him. The operative was dressed in proper, formal attire and shades hiding his eyes. Hopefully in this moving, engaging crowd it would be hard to spot him.

But it wasn’t too hard to find an interesting man that stood behind the same banner as he did before the Order’s siege of Bastion. Along with the scarlet Empress of the Eternal Empire. The former he was more interested, it was curious as what business the bureaucrat had with Ingrid.

No matter, he’d rudely approach the duo and insert himself in, in hopes to have a chatter with Tithe.

 

[Ariel Yvarro]

​

BALLROOM
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Coruscant was interesting thus far, even if it had only been Ariel's third time there. At least tonight they weren't doing anything other than celebrating the inauguration of Adhira Chandra as the new Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance. Ariel had arrived with a small entourage consisting of Gunnar Madine and Vidia Vudrirn along with any of the others from Dosuun who had decided to tag along. Ariel dressed in a white ball gown, with the hopes of continuing to establish productive diplomatic relations with the different nations and factions often vying for power and control. ​

At first glance there was a bit of a drop in her enthusiasm, an unnerving part of being there on her own was the vulnerability she felt. Balance, where's Renata when I need her? While she and the Moff of the Foreign Office hadn't always agreed on their approach, they had always agreed on doing what was in the best interest of the First Order. Only now, Ariel wished to have the woman's steely gaze to utilize. Chin up Ariel, we've got mingling to do.​

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"Vidia you're more than welcomed to join me, or you may accompany Lieutenant Colonel Madine," of whom she had the utmost belief in. Belief that he would brief her with his observations from the ball itself, his thoughts and how he precieved the room and those in it. The ball seemed well enough and the Chancellor was dressed gorgeously for the evening, and easily spotted - well - at least for Ariel. Who then stepped through the crowd and gave a look around, there were plenty of faces she was unfamiliar with personally. Faces, though, she had seen during the briefing on the way here.​

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There were a few people around as she continued to make her way through the crowd, hanging onto her clutch as she did so. Djorn Bline , along with Aerarii Tithe and Ingrid L'lerim . Of the three, the latter two were a little more familiar, most especially the Empress Regent, after all one had to keep up with the neighbors. They were just far enough away that she could not hear their conversation and Ariel pressed onward to keep it that way for now at least, "thoughts Vidia? You seem awfully quiet." She inquired of the young government officer, "any apprehensions on being here?"​

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[Frielle Kinniak]

The Outlander Club
Interacted With: Ava Cartwright-Pryce

There was definitely crowd forming, and Firelle wanted to head out. Too many people, too many drinks, and not enough fresh air she thought to herself. One beer and then quietly slip out - wouldn't be like anyone would notice her. At least until Cartwright said hello, and suddenly Frielle felt a bit of a social obligation to stay. "Good to see you again, Commander Cartwright." At least it was Cartwright the last that the Corellian could recall and she gave a small nod of acknowledgment to Commander Halcorr. She couldn't recall Halcorr nearly as well as Cartwright, or Goldilocks. They spent a bit of time flying together before, and it looked like they might do so again.​

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It was just then that someone else came bounding toward the group and Firelle saw that as her cue to leave. There was an air of familiarity here and Firelle wasn't too keen on interrupting it. "Well, it was nice to see you, hopefully, we can catch up later." Clubs weren't her usual scene anyway and after her beer, Frielle found the nearest receptacle to toss it in. She gave a look around Outlander Club and headed for the exit, it was the wash of 'fresh air' whatever that meant on Coruscant, that gave the woman a sense of relief.​

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Her social skills weren't exactly great to start with, alcohol definitely wouldn't help, and not to mention there was an Admiral. She glanced upward toward the monstrosity of towers and the flow of traffic that surrounded them all, like webs woven tightly around the city. Frielle pressed ahead and gained distance between her and the club before finding the nearest speeder taxi to catch a ride home.​

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[Exit Thread]​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

// CORUSCANT // BALLROOM //
Allyson Locke // Djorn Bline

This was supposed to be a calm night. Ease back into their friendship again and celebrate the sunset of Chancellor Tagge and the rise of Chancellor Chandra.

But amidst all the excitement, Loske felt a bit like a chaperone to the double agent. And had admitted that earlier to Allyson after the first sip of champagne. At least she could tolerate bubbles taste-wise. She could feel them thriving in her stomach though, excited and popping until they settled down. Now she was on her sec–– third glass and girlishly smirking about having to be walked home.

It was in this moment of self slander that she looked away from the brunette and into the crowds. Mingling and joviality were thick here, attendees of different origin all welcome to the floors of the Alliance. The blue carpet rolled out to them. Loske would have been all too happy to miss the occasion, not one for social events, but it was an opportunity for her and the burned Jedi Master to try their hands at friendship once more. And ever the bleeding heart, Loske couldn't deny the chance at reconciliation.

Wandering eyes were met with another surprise. Again.

"No. Way." Her free hand flew over her mouth and glanced at Allyson, who was keeping much more of a cool than the kiffar Knight. "I can't keep reacting like that everytime I see him at a party. It's so uncouth.

Have you noticed, also, it's been like, battle, battle, battle, party, party, party lately? Battle, party." Loske gestured chopping through the air while explaining the different activities she'd been attending. She was growing more and more into a homebody. Or, given she and Maynard just lived on The Renegage turning into a Freighterbody. "Battle. Party." Emphasizing it a final time, she seemed ready to change the subject and took a final swig of her flute, setting it down on the counter behind her and tapping her nose in thought.

Eyes narrowed to seek out the trajectory, before snapping her fingers. "Networking. You guys are always networking." Loske whispered as if she were sharing a trademark secret. She wasn't, of course. Merely repeating what Allyson had recounted earlier. And lumping in you guys as if Djorn and Allyson were the same might have been offensive, but she breezed through it as only a buzzed student could and continued with her thesis: "Making just enough connections to get just enough information.

Hmm. Who would he –– Ah hum. That makes sense. Okay, I'm going to.... age this." The word was the suffix sound of espionage and sabotage, neither of which was entirely accurate for this evening, so she just left it as supremely abbreviated. Surprisingly fluid with the motion, Loske pushed from her lean against the bar and waltzed to intercept.

She only knew the red-headed woman by reputation. And the silver fox through a bribe and Auteme's outcome on Bastion. She hadn't met him in person yet and might have liked to. He sort of looked tailored enough to pass off that bribe as something legitimate.

’136 million credits - my gift to you’

"Djorn." Loske piped up, appraising the Imperial agent at her doorstep and offering a wave on the approach. "Fancy seeing you here. Except, my roof this time." She gestured upward lazily. "Nice of you and the Imperials to show their support."

 

[Gat Tambor]

G A T _ T A M B O R
CANDIDATE FOR CHANCELLOR OF THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
D A R K _ F A N T A S Y
Adhira Chandra ​

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Defeat. The most bitter he'd suffered in his entire life. And he was well and truly, for the majority of his life. A winner. The second he'd left Skako and the high and holy temple of clouds to explore the greater Galaxy, he opened the door to greatness and potential unending. He was able to procure investment to create the Technoid Manufactorum which he was able to build into a potent Galactic weapons manufacturer, using the gathered clout to run for election as the Viceroy of Christophsis, a seat which he won in a narrow yet still resolute victory. Though against his values, Coruscant First propelled him from office and landed him in the Galactic Alliance where he then was elected Senator of Skako, a seat which he'd held in interim on behalf of the late Senator Fat Jambor who'd passed prior.

Then, he'd created the Trade Federation. One of the most powerful and wealthy cabals of corporate entities within the Galaxy. With it, he was able to ensure the Braxant Run be rebuilt from the fires of war and the into the pillars of industry as Muunilinst, Scipio and Entralla crawled from the dark recesses of devastation and into prosperity. Ascending to the ranks of the highest echelon of wealthy elite in the Galaxy, he made his bid for Chancellor of the Alliance, to be the leader of the Core Worlds. To guide them to an age of freedom, prosperity, independence and POWER.

He lost.

A fiercely close loss, but a loss none the less. Where Gat outperformed where he was expecting losses, his choice of Ido Bastra as a running mate did little to shore up the nation's capital of Coruscant in his favor. And thus...his thrust at the political leadership of the Galactic Alliance was futile...and over.


And just when Chandra wasn't expecting him to appear, to hide in shame in the wake of his defeat.

He appeared, allowed past security to grasp an audience with the newly elected Chancellor.

"OWERRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEERWEEEE- Senato- er, rather...Chancellor. I must say, congratulations. It was a superior effort in what was seemingly a close election. It is a shame that my effort was...well, short of the finish line. But the people did decide. I can only hope you act in the interests of Alliance and its people first before anything else. As there are well- it is a dangerous Galaxy. Regardless...while I shall keep myself away from the Senate room lest it be to speak the interest of one of the largest Galactic employers. You know very well how to contact me should you need any word of advice, my office shall always be open Chancellor." Tambor says, nodding once as he laced his fingers over the Starbird magnetized to his gold and silver chest plate before he began to hover off.

Afterall, it was difficult to face her directly now, as a loser. He needed to begin to plot his next move in his despicable agenda against...well for himself more than anything else.