Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Black Collar Gala

Janeth refused to dress up for this event, instead sporting her usual body armour. Of course she left her weapon in her ship, and unlike some Mandalorians she wasn't a fan of the 'mobile armoury' motif that so many went with these days. Thankfully the security gave her little issue over it. Perhaps they understood the type of guest that would arrive, or maybe there were simply bigger fish to fry.

Events like these reminded her of when she was younger. Using one guise or another to infiltrate a posh party or fundraiser, and mingling under false pretenses to mark her score. It was almost unbelievable that she was actually invited today, but she didn't forget who she was here to represent.

Either way, Janeth entered the Red Tower and her eyes glanced in every direction, soaking in whatever visual information they could. The loud chattering in a dozen or two languages drowned her ears in unintelligible speech. It made her miss the servant girl asking her if they could be of any assistance. She walked past the cherry-picked Hapan with a cold shoulder, and made her way immediately to where she could undoubtedly help herself; the bar.
 
[member="Aela Talith"]

"Well I didn't..." Xin started, but she was already moving into the crowd. The nautolan shrugged, noticing only that she took a flute of champagne as she walked away. The age joke was rich coming from her. Probably the spoiled daughter of a spice baron.

A moment later and he felt her manhandle him from where he has moved to watch Hirrau. "Stand...?" Xin managed to mutter before falling silent. Xin was observant. Luck was often with him and his subconscious tended to point things out to him.

Who wore sunglasses into a club? Xin moved his head from side to side before her until he could see the reflection of what she was looking at. The devaronian looked quite determined.

Without pause Xin put one hand on her waist and leaned closer enough to whisper in her ear: "he looks quite determined. We might have to lose him on the dance floor."

The bold nautolan didn't realise that he probably wasn't getting that hand back in once piece.
 
Boldly approached yon Luchius LeFrange, ignoblest of beings. He sported a dapper calico coat with a red floral pattern that brought out his eyes. In his own words, he looked absolutely “devilish.” Others might use a different term. Either way, the popinjay made a beeline toward the green Nautolan and his dead-animal wearing companion. Was that trim Wampa fur?

Good old Luchy strolled to a stop just in front of the pair and interrupted them with that slick drawl of his.

“Excuse the interruption, but if you’ve the time to spare, Gorba the Hutt over there wants to get acquainted with new players in the Game. As do I.”

He smiled slyly, pointed ears rising and falling with the expression. Gorba’d asked for the human, but LeFrange knew he wouldn’t be adverse to meeting both at once. The name of the game was makin’ contacts, not enemies. Gorba might find the female, what was it? Pleasing. But he wasn’t about to try and turn her into a chik youngee. Not right here and now. A tad too smart for that. Besides, it was a rare few who spurned a Hutt’s offer out of hand. Even young Hutts like Gorba could make powerful allies.

“Care to join us, place a bet on the fight maybe?”

[member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Xin Boa"]
 
[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Xin Boa"]

Aela stiffened as soon as she felt a hand upon her skin. The reaction was both natural, and entirely fitting. This outfit didn't really leave much to the imagination, and the fluffy coat she wore over it didn't really hide much else. When the Nautolan set his hand on her hip he touched her, something that sent a chill up her spine. She scowled immediately, her hand coming up to snatch his.

In one fluid movement her fingers sought to wrap around the mans thumb, twisting it and instantly bending it back while turning his hand up.

The 'attack' was superficial at best, it would hurt quite a bit and if Aela put enough pressure on it she could probably snap the bone, though she wouldn't be doing that. The first rule of being undercover was not to draw too much attention to yourself, and breaking someones thumb wasn't exactly the way to go about that. Yet she needed to establish an air of authority, both to this Nautolan, and anyone else that was watching. She wasn't some stupid little schutta who had come to be bandied about by criminals.

She was here in her own right. "I said stand."

Aela's voice was like razor.

"Not touch." Her tone denoted little less than absolute authority. She didn't play game, Elizabeth didn't play games. It helped that Aela didn't really enjoy anyone touching her without her own consent, something that the Nautolan undoubtedly wouldn't have tried had she been wearing the robes of a Jedi Master. The scowl on her face told the same story however, and slowly she regarded the Devaronian who was still smirking at them.

Her gaze fell up and down his form, the HUD-G's on her face photographing the man before she spoke up, her hand still holding the Nautolan thumb. "Does your little Hutt know to keep his hands to himself?"

She gave a very pointed gaze to Xin.
 
Eyes clouded by dreamdust languidly tracked up the frame of the burly Houk bouncer until they came at last to rest upon the grim visage of the impatient alien behemoth blocking Ifan's passage. The Point Nadir enforcer had asked him a question, which in his state he had missed, and by the time the Prince had opened his mouth to reply, the Houk had adopted a somehow even more threatening posture and suddenly ben-Mezd's companion was between them, coiled into a defensive stance. There was a brief moment where it seemed as if things might explode into violence until Ifan placed a hand upon the Trandoshan's shoulder, effectively defusing the bodyguard as a threat, before palming several high value credit chits into the clenched fists of the antagonized Nadir enforcer.

Ifan was forced to remind himself that, while he may live his life from one party to the next, this sort of place was still relatively new to Hakar, the young man had never even left Trandosha before circumstances had brought him into the Prince's employ. Although he shot the Trandoshan a scathing look of disapproval as they made their way into the Red Tower, Ifan could forgive his protector's nervous energy. To his organization, events like these served as the backdrop for most of their financial transactions of real import, but ben-Mezd had not been a resident of Nadir station for very long, and this was his first major public appearance. Officially, he was on the station as nothing more than a representative of the Salvatrucha Economic Development Corporation, but anyone in the know understood what that really meant. It meant organized crime.

It meant the Exchange.

He wore a luxurious silken robe indicative of nobility on several planets, with no visible insignia or identifying mark on him. In tremoring hands, the olive skinned human held a glass of expensive alcohol in one hand and a cigarra in the other at nearly all times as he meandered through the assembled masses, giving off an air of practiced indifference. To see, and to be seen, that was all Ifan required of the evening before him. Anything else was serendipity.
 
First drink was down, and the second was on order.

A crowd was beginning to develop and engage in pass aggressive shoulder bumping and scowling -other preened like the murderous crows they truly were. It was impressive as Hell. And, only a tiny bit depressing if one allowed the existential dread of the organic, mortal condition to besmear their mirth.

Eschewing being in the center of somewhat lethal strangers, the First Order agent collects her second drink and picks a bench near the large windows flanking one side of the gala. From this perch, she could just keep people watching and being the introvert that one truly had to be.
 
[member="Tytos Ardik"]

Brown orbs widened at the man's behavior. The explorer wasn't really surprised. She'd seen so many uppity-ups. Not to mention she'd gotten the younger ones to buy her tab many a times during her younger and wilder years in the clubs.

This pale man had his sights set on someone else though. Didn't stop her from getting a facial recognition scan through her artificial contact lens. Score.

She offered Derrenger a drink with a winning smile. The kind of smile that could melt the hearts of any man or woman. Maybe even a droid. "Don't worry, there's one for you too if you want it." Eyelashes batted like a great wait-staff-person waiting for a tip followed by a wink. But they were off. Shrugging, a hand tugged at the stiffness of the uniform's jacket.

Ugh, can't wait to get back into my spacer threads.

Squaring her shoulders, the incognito Starchaser and Vagrant-fleet member meandered through the crowds and approached [member="Judah Dashiell"]. She offered the tray of drinks to him. "Interest you in some drinks mister? Got the fruity variety, minty variety, hard stuff, and some beer."
 
[member="Kinsey Starchaser"]



Head was down, ignoring those gathered at the event. Cigar was half finished and resting in one hand, smoke still curling around him lazily. Other hand contained his comm as he thumbed through messages. The nights entertainment wasn't his thing. Instead he was busy responding to messages and scrolling through mindless charts and ideas. If he knew he was going to end up working all night there would have been no reason to come.


Voice interrupted him. Judah drug himself away from his messages to see an overly perky server offer several drinks.Alcohol probably. Head shook no slightly, he wasn't all to interested. Now if they had some crab puffs....well....he probably wouldn't want to eat crab puffs from some place with no ocean.


"Oh, no thank you Miss. Appreciate it though."
 
Bright green eyes swept over the gathering while she nodded absentmindedly to some meathead's rambling, one of her hands occupied with a cocktail glass whilst her index finger and thumb of her other played at several strands of hair. The party, itself, was enjoyable enough - she wasn't too impressed with some of the people that had shown up, however. The incessant bragging she was being subjected to, for instance, was killing the buzz she had going rather quickly. If she hadn't been raised properly, as she was sure quite a few people in attendance had not been, Lily likely would have made her opinion of his various claims and exploits known to his face - if he was going for trying to appear dangerous and edgy, running spice through various illegal routes under the nose of law enforcement, he was doing a dismal job.

"And just yesterday I had to deal with a couple of Rodians that thought they could skip out on payment for their shipment by beating me and taking the cargo."

Was he still talking? Ugh, such a turn-off. Even if she hadn't been seeing someone, this was exactly why she had always brought Nadja along with her to these kinds of social events - at least she was okay with being pelted with the most obvious, brain-dead, and honestly dumb attempts to impress her or flirt with her. Now, sure, Lily didn't mind the occasional flirt, and she enjoyed playing coy, but there was a fine line between playfulness and cocky - and this chithead was about as close to a rooster as he was ever going to get. She looked around, the smuggler clearly not comprehending her lack of interest, as though to emphasize her internalized wish for someone to rescue her from some no-named, buzzed-cut hair, adrenaline junkie.

"It was two on one, but in the end I got the credits from 'em. Got a pretty sick scar on my arm 'cause of it."

She sighed. Heavily. Why couldn't this idiot be like her significant other and keep his mouth shut unless he had something important to say? His looks didn't even make up for - oh, hello. She hadn't noticed the older gentleman meandering through the crowd, looking as if though he was headed right for her. She did, however, catch the tail-end of the scar comment this moron was bragging about and dropped the hand that had been fidgeting with her hair to her hip. "Oh? That's cute. My boyfriend lost his arm fighting at war. He rocks a pretty impressive prosthetic now." Lily said with the most I-really-don't-like-you-but-let-me-emphasize-it-for-you of smiles and a slightly higher-pitched voice than usual, which was about as fake as that smile was, and a tone that just screamed Nice Ladytm.

"You should go mingle with people who appreciate the little things - somewhere that isn't here."

A little mean, maybe, but he took the hint and left, not looking all-too-happy with the turn of events, but he was gone.

"Hello there." Lily said, her smile accompanying that greeting much more genuine than her last. She was, of course, speaking to [member="Tytos Ardik"], whom had conveniently approached close enough for her to initiate conversation just as the "tough guy" had made his exit. "Lily Kuhn." She stated, clearly meaning her name. "How are you enjoying the soiree?" Lily asked, taking a step towards him to bridge the gap. She extended her left hand to shake his, although she wasn't entirely certain if he was the sort of person who engaged in physical contact for introductions.
 
Aver Brand said:
Nothing but the best for the lady – Aver spared [member="Quietus"] the absolute joy of her driving, and hired a professional instead. Thus they arrived to the lip of the Cloudbreak without a single hair tussled, their clothes as gleaming and ironed as before.

A miracle, considering Nadir traffic.

Offering her hand as she stepped out on the platform, Aver paused to observe the view from on high. She’d visited the Red Tower only once before, right before the opening. Could almost pretend you were on a planet, up here – the artificial skydome above them displayed an impressive attempt at the setting sun, red and orange spilling over the smog below.

Home sweet home.

It wasn’t a murderous mercenary that fell into step with a quondam queen as they joined the crowd of hundreds. Just Ygdris and Desdemona, tonight.

Fingers curled at the offered elbow as deeply tanned and tattooed jungle leaves joined pale and expertly tailored suit. Much to her surprise the location was far more inspiring than expected and green gaze swept across the view and the overarching skydome with a small amount of awe. It was a different sort of jungle, for certain.

Wending into the throngs of attendees felt like jumping into the depths of an unknown sea. Knowing there were monsters and beasts surrounding her was one thing, knowing what kinds of monsters and beasts quite another. There was at least one little monster in attendance that she knew of judging by the tugging of a particular bloodtrail.

Dahl was here ... somewhere, and somehow Qui was not surprised.

Did my daughter find her way here all on her own or did you have something to do with that?
 
Aver bit the cheek [member="Quietus"] couldn’t see, scanning above the general crowd to determine the quickest way to the other end of the vast hall.

“Nothing at all,” the merc played dumb, flashing the blonde a wide grin. “That’s Qosta’s fault. I had to save her pasty ass from some slave cage she got herself into. Old baldy and Captain Blackthorne clicked after that, I guess,” she shrugged, leading the other woman through the throng with an expertise that spoke volumes.

Soon enough, they emerged on the other end of the domed chamber. Aver had pilfered a pair of fluted glasses on the way using the advantage of high ground. Now, out of the thicket of bodies, she offered one to Qui before tipping her own to smirking lips.

She waited a beat, glancing down at her – yes, fine – date.

“Dahl was pissed at you for some reason. ‘D you have a falling out?”

~~

After delivering her truncated speech to her ungrateful audience, Erida Teheron had slipped back into the growing sea of people. Expensive, form-fitting blue satin would hug her curves in all the right places, if she’d had any. Thus it only hugged her bones.

But damn if it didn’t look good. You could practically taste the suffering and long hours of unpaid children clinging to it like a million credit perfume. Which, incidentally, was yet another thing Miss Teheron was wearing tonight.

Her dead eyes scanned the crowd from the sidelines, peering into their black hearts and judging their wardrobe as she sipped from a glass of something equally expensive.

A ponderous presence parted the ocean, then. A Hutt. Thin lips quirked up into a thin smile.

Not just any Hutt, too.

She finished her drink, heels clacking across the marble as she made her way towards [member="Gorba the Hutt"].
 
Bodies, murmurs, talking, mingling, glistening jewels and pressed jackets. The clatter of glass against silver, the smell of greed and pomp. Fake smiles, level voices, dilated pupils. Revelation. Somewhere a slave's bonds clattered. Elsewhere a flame sparked up a cigar.

Here the stem of a champagne flute found its way into her fingertips, drawing a curious blink from the blond. Quietus didn't drink for many reasons - something she could have sworn Aver knew, sworn she had made mention of over the years. Perhaps the Merc was simply being polite, going through the motions of making the offer.

She held it as if Aver had just given her a flower. Mildly perplexed.

But wait-

She what.

Hard blink.

You what?

Slave cage? How in seven hells did- no, she didn't want to know.

Quietus downed the flute of champagne in one gulp.

I chose her adopted brother over her as heir to my title.

The woman grimaced as the drink went down. Ugh why did it have to be so bubbly?
 
Scrumptious. He scarfed down another. Divine. The four bodyguards watched without comment. To them, he was a divinity. Or close to it. He'd never been quite sure if they considered Hutts demi-gods or just plain gods. Never bothered to flip open one of their kajidic-approved textbooks, you see.

Gorba's eye flicked up and spotted the approach of a willowy woman as pale as factory ash. The eye widened.

Oh no.

Towards the end of his life, his father had become greatly indebted to an Umbaran woman who gave him financial advise that he promptly ignored. Nobody likes having their advice ignored, so the rift that formed was unpleasant, as was the woman herself.

"Teheron," he rumbled, begrudgingly acknowledging her existence.

[member="Aver Brand"]
 
The Red Tower,
Point Nadir.

Late. Venthis had arrived later than the rest. His shuttle, seemingly breaking down upon his descent down to the Shadowport of Point Nadir. Leaving his actual ship in orbit. He had come here to broaden his contacts, no better to do so than with a bunch of criminals. Venthis was Sith, by blood.

He eventually landed. Wearing a black shirt, trousers and a rather long raincoat over them. He had come in rather simple attire for the occasion. Obviously for a reason. Venthis was calculated, he would plan out the entire evening before he even set a foot out of his home.

The doors swept open, with Venthis entering and giving a brief glance around the room. He would find his way over to one side of the gala, with a woman seemingly a similar height to himself glancing outwards. He could make out she was attempting to avoid company. Venthis was similar, usually. Though he had come here to specifically not be himself. With a blink of his eyes, a facade was placed over his personality. He made his way over, sitting down next to her. "Hello, what might a pretty lady like you be doing in a place like this?" He said with a smirk, his teeth appearing to be unordinarily white. The Epicanthix-hybrid turned to her for a moment before glancing back outwards to the event.

He would continue to look outwards, waiting for a reply from her.

[member="The Major"]
 
There was something to be said about watching Qui scowl. Aver felt her lips twitching at the corners, and lifted her glass in time to obscure the amusement. The former queen didn’t always find situations quite as grin-worthy as the merc.

“And the tiny menace didn’t agree,” she filled in the rest. Despite her efforts to the contrary, years of visits had inexorably accrued. She knew Dahl in broad strokes – certainly well enough to envision how that had gone down. Plenty of screaming. A fight too, probably.

“Because he doesn’t fly into a rage every time you prickle his hackles?”

Aver carefully ignored the first bit. Unless [member="Quietus"] pressed, she wasn’t going to elaborate on the slave cage part. It wasn’t a conversation for a fine evening.

Frankly, it wasn’t a conversation for anytime, ever.

~~

“Gorba.”

Erida brushed past a pair of bodyguards with pointed, bony shoulders. Her face betrayed about as much as a skull – and at least a skull would smile at you. Miss Teheron didn’t.

“I thought I’d find you in the gamblers’ den,” she spoke, batting eyes cast in deep shadow, “with the rest of the senseless spenders. Or have you learned from your father’s mistakes?”


[member="Gorba the Hutt"]
 
[member="Gorba the Hutt"] [member="Aela Talith"]

Xin gave a low cry at his thumb being twisted back. Fortunately twi'lek were quite flexible creatures and the shock dissipated quickly. The devaronian looked at the situation with mild curiosity. Xin knew he'd overstepped the mark but had thought himself playing up to the situation. It turned out he had misread it. Seemed the girl wanted to make a show for the Hutt rather than avoid his attention.

His expression veered between a smile and a grimace, the ends of his headtails staying slightly coiled at the continued discomfort.

"The esteemed Gorba the Hutt requests your presence. If you are done here."

Xin laughed. "Thought the lady wanted to dance, got it wrong. Seems she's all yours." He gave a slight tug at her grip to emphasise that it was time to let go now.
 
It did not take long for him to catch up, but already it seemed [member="Lily Kuhn"] was turning people away. Some sort of bottom feeder Tytos didn't recognize. He looked positively annoyed, but not altogether phased by the negative interaction. Most people of that type were not so easily put off. Twenty years ago he might have related. Now he was far too professionalized to sympathize with the routed smuggler. Tytos gave some approximation of a smile in return - a stilted gesture that did not reach his eyes - and shook her hand.

"Tytos Ardik," he replied. The Umbaran snorted softly when she asked how he was enjoying the gala. "As much as I can. Perhaps not as much as others."

As he said this, his eyes followed the smuggler briefly. The man was now slithering through the crowd, no doubt in search of some other woman to terrorize with his presence. It seemed he was heading straight for [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] while she was still preoccupied with [member="Judah Dashiell"]. No accounting for taste, I suppose.

At any rate, Tytos continued his conversation with Lily. "I must say, I did not expect to see the Empress of Teta here. I imagine someone of your status must have access to a more refined locale."
 
LeFrange winced.

"Please don't, don't call him little."

For both our sakes.

The Devaronian glanced between the Nautolan and the human. Clearly, he'd missed a prior exchange. Was- was she trying to break the squid's finger? LeFrange stifled a nervous chuckle.

"Gorba just wants to meet new faces."

* * *

Gorba did not want to see her face. Not now. Nothing ruined a party like an accountant, that Givin who laundered his money was a good example. In fact, Ni'gel probably knew Teheron, now that he thought of it. Not that they would get along. She was wearing a form-fitting dress, which was, as Gorba understood it, a class A offense to Givin sensibilities.

The Hutt wouldn't have minded, if there was anything worth seeing.

He held out a cupcake in her direction. "Chuga? You could use it."

Seldom did he speak in Basic, save to those he considered equals. Well, not really equals per se. Just something more than the usual insects. Thus, the insult was not without compliment.

[member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Xin Boa"] | [member="Aela Talith"]
 
At the Red Tower.
Where solid gold will see you in Hell.

It had to break eventually. No way around it. If you're at party being a creep, someone is going to notice. The Major may have preferred to stay away and keep eavesdropping on the romanticized slug otherwise known as Gorba. Incidently, he (it?), was a Hutt. Now, even though it was widely assumed that the First Order was filled with anthropocentric bigots, this certainly wasn't the case on this agent's part. She just had never seen a Hutt in the flesh before. Supposedly, if a gathering included one of these beasts, it definitely meant you were dealing with the criminal underworld. She would have kept considering the semantics behind tax evasion had not a rather vampiric looking fellow offered something of a platitude.

Pretty lady? She almost snorted. The Merry Markswoman may have not been around the galaxy much, and may have been born at night, but certainly not last night. The Fallanassi was not pretty. And even if she was, she certainly knew she wasn't. If so, her life would have been devoted to politics, or perhaps holonet reporting. So why the pretense? Well, what else was there to do around here?

"Oh, the usual. Assassination of one of these poor guests, I'm afraid. . ."

Following the example laid before her, the Major continues to stare over the crowded floor.

[member="Venthis Zambrano"]
 
Vigil raised his fists in a boxing style, the guard laughing before raising his rifle at Vigil. Quickly Vigil knocked the blaster to the wall and threw two strikes to the guard's neck, only angering the alien. The bulking mass swung his rifle to Vigil's head, knocking him into the wall, and opening a wound on his right brow. As blood trickled down, Vigil did not hesitate to make a second attack, this time bringing his foot to the guard's hand, forcing him to release the blaster rifle from his grip. Vigil tried to bring another attack to the criminal's head, but he instead punched Vigil in his abdominals, causing him to double over in pain. The guard then tried to follow up his blow with another strike to Vigil's head, but he was wary enough to avoid and back away a few steps, giving Harrison a good view of the guard and his armor. Within the moments that the criminal caught himself, and started a charge on Vigil, he realized an area to hit.

Vigil dove between the guard and the wall, stopping himself as the guard passed him. Vigil struck a heavy blow to his knee, where armor didn't cover, making the alien drop to one knee. Grabbing the rifle, Vigil raised and slammed it into the back of the criminal's neck, knocking him unconscious. Vigil dropped the rifle, heaving with his hands on his knees. This was the fifth person he fought today, and Vigil was just a man, he couldn't keep this up for long. He could hear more guards coming, no doubt the fight made him lose valuable time. Vigil ran up to the nearest turbolift, not needing verification and this high of a level, and smashed the button. Impatiently waiting due to the sounds of more guards getting louder and louder. Finally it came, right as guards starting to turn the corner. Vigil jumped inside and hid behind the corner of the turbolift as blaster bolts sprayed in until the door closed. Vigil pressed a button and let the lift take him down a few levels, hopefully the security wouldn't be as bad down there.

[member="Aver Brand"]
 

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