Come on Over for Dinner [First Order & Commonwealth]

[Natasi Fortan]

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The Avalonia Grand Hotel​

1850 Hours Local Time​

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Guests entering the Avalonia Grand Hotel will be directed by the hotel staff to take the elevators to the left up to the fifteenth floor, where they will emerge into an expansive, columned lobby area (pictured below), with stained glass windows and stairs leading down to an entrance onto a garden terrace overlooking the avenue below. The area has been dotted with small cocktail tables, as well as small, intimate conversation areas, and staff have been instructed to circulate, offering hors d'ouvres, cocktails, beer, wine, and spirits to attendees. While tips are accepted, the bar itself is open, courtesy of the First Order General Ministry. The doors to the cocktail area opened at 1900 hours, and dinner in the grand ballroom begins at 2000.

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The ballroom is a vision in white and green marble, accented in gold trimmings. The piano and tables on the dais have been cleared away to make room for the presentation of honors, with a large podium there. Guests are free to seat themselves, with room enough for six to each table. The centerpieces, constructed from Avalonia-grown flowers, are a picture of understated elegance, hand-picked by Petyr Calinda himself. The menu, too, celebrates the glory of Dosuun's bounty, featuring fruits, vegetables, fish, game, and meat local to the planet, as well as a sprinkling of goods imported from around the Empire. The music playing in the ballroom is understated and jazzy -- enough to listen to, but not to dance to or overpower conversations. The tone is most decidedly not somber -- the First Order had grieved the ones who lost, together at the opening of the Omega memorial earlier in the week. Tonight was to celebrate the achievements of those who had won the fight.

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Natasi arrived solo, wishing to make one last loop around to make sure everything was right. It was a big night for her; she was among the honorees, but would also be presenting honors, to the Naval participants in the Omega Conflict. She felt a new comraderie with them, having engaged in her first Naval battle there, and while she realized that they probably still saw her as the toffee-nosed paper-pusher that government types got a reputation for. But Natasi had a new respect for them, seeing what she saw -- what they saw. She had adopted them, in a way, as her special case, and would fight to ensure that they got what they needed when it came time to tangle over the budget. The Grand Moff emerged from the elevator in an attractive green, beaded evening gown and emerald hair clip, with black opera gloves pulled to her elbows -- because she was a lady, after all. She checked in at the bar to be sure they had everything they needed, then spoke to the head of the caterers, who assured her that there was plenty of food.

The event planner intercepted her with a smile. "Is everything to your liking, Your Excellency?" She looked around the room self-consciously, then back to Natasi, who had folded her gloved arms across her midsection and shuddered a little. "Is the temperature too cool? I can turn up the heat."

"No -- that is, the room temperature will increase -- well, I'd say two to five degrees -- once everyone has arrived and started eating and drinking. It's perfect. Show me the dining room." Natasi followed the event planned into the room and picked up a menu card from one of the tables, studying it. "This is exactly what we discussed -- which is easier said than done, I'm sure you know," Natasi said with a smirk. "If things go well, you can be assured we'll be looking to the Avalonia Grand for more of our function needs." The event planner bowed and made her way off, and Natasi went out into the lobby and then onto the terrace. She'd have just the right amount of time to treat herself to a cigarette -- Dr. Penneford be damned -- before the guests started to arrive.

[[[member="Horus"] and Commonwealth types please feel free to join!!]]​

 

[Horus]

Horus stood in the crowded elevator. It was full of CNI spooks dressed their best, doing the part to fit in. He knew each one was just as cold blooded as the other, and it didn't comfort him. He knew it was his security detail for the evening but he didn't need security, he needed sleep. Horus Nelson hadn't had a good nights sleep since the Omega events took place in the Outer Rim. The moment he returned home there was no ceremony or time of mourning, marines were instead shipped off to the next frontier, G'rho, then they had chased the enemy all the way to Cerea. Come the end of the fighting, the soldiers had gone home, but Horus' job was not done there, he was sent to the Core to speak to Lady Kay. Horus supposed that his job would never be done until he was six feet under.

The Lord of Admirals looked worse for wear, despite his venerable age he looked even more frail. Once he got into the room he was going to find the closest chair and collapse onto it. "Sir," one of the spooks whispered, "Do you need some?" he asked, the mans hand fished into his pockets and produced a white-powder inside an official Commonwealth labeled plastic bag, no bigger than ones palm. The Admiral took the powder onto his palm and snorted what was there, then ran the rest through his gums with his fingers. "Thanks son," Horus said, already feeling a kick in energy. It was not a well known fact, but it was certainly one of their secret strengths. Spices were not illegal in the Commonwealth, and the Commonwealth war machine ran on it. The elevator doors opened, and despite his exhausted look, he was beginning to feel great.​

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

A dinner party and a large one at that, apmsot like the first ball she had with the first order only bigger then the last and this time she wouldn't be standing awakardly....ok that was a lie she'd be standing around but this time she had a date, with a ren in a hover chair named [member="Wolf"], she had met this man not too long ago when the whole zombie thing went down...she had only one arm then and that was a total mess

I'm any case she exited the very much crowded elevator and looked over to wolf with a smile, she wore her military uniform that showed her rank and division she was in" not a bad looking place what do you say wolf?" She said to we companion for the night *

[member="Horus"]
[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Horus"]

Jaster walked through the hallway with his armored suit. The armor was brimmed with both Black and Red coloring like a sash that came across his chest and arm. In the right side of his chest was a metallic emblem of the First Order, and his shoulder pads as well as his belts were etched in metal of the UTC emblem. As he walked the motors of his armor echoed through hallway, he was escorted by two NN-2 Droid. They only escorted him to the elevator where he stepped in, the droids stopped and scared off the anyone who tried to enter. He was then allowed to enter the elevator alone where he took it up to the ball room. The droids were then programmed to exit the building and protect the speeder that Jaster had taken to the hotel.

As he entered the ballroom and exited the elevator he only walked to the area where he would need to check in. There sat a man in a Imperial Naval Uniform. "Hello, sir, your name please?"

Jaster didnt even look at the man, but past him where the Grand Moff was standing. He still answered the man though, "Governor Jaster Awaud, I was invited to attend as a Civil Servant."

The man looked through a terminal that most likely had the seating arrangements. "Ah yes, you will seat to the far right of Grand Moff Fortan along with the rest of the Civil Servants."

Jaster nodded and followed another man to his seat. He just nodded to the man and stood behind his seat and waited till the Grand Moff to take her seat, he was still new to the political aspect of the First Order so he decided to be carefully.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The wonders of bacta had done much for Pierce Fortan III in the two weeks since he had been shot down during the Omega Crisis -- as the First Order State Media had taken to calling it -- but bacta could only do so much. He had had a compound fracture in his leg, and while the skin had been healed by the stuff, the bacta hadn't been able to heal his broken bones. So he had been on bed rest, then a hoverchair, and now he was managing on crutches.

"Managing" may have been an overstatement.

He hauled himself out of the back of a cab, shunning any assistance offered by his driver or his companion with a brief, "Fine, thanks!" before hopping around the back to open the boot and withdraw his crutches, then hobble over to the passenger door to open it for [member="Lilith Sedarri"], who looked stunning as ever -- even better up close than from the box seat from which he had first spied her dancing. He was a sucker for ballet -- it was a Fortan trait, to be sure, but one of the better ones -- and he had rather enjoyed it this time, as it had inspired him to seek out the woman. Of course, he couldn't maneuver to the stage door with his blasted hoverchair, but he had managed to send a complimentary note with a simple bouquet of white dendrobium orchids and returned the next night with crutches so he could maneuver back stage. The name Fortan helped in his struggle, and then they had met.

The rest, as they said, was history. Well not history so much as recent past; he had called her for a date to the banquet on the excuse that he would need her grace to make up for his lack of it and he was absolutely right. "Sorry I can't offer my arm," said Pierce irritably as he hobbled with Lilith towards the ramp up to the lobby entrance. "Let me give you a nickel's worth of free advice: never get your ship blown up." They made their way into the lobby, found a turbolift, and rocketed skyward. "By the way," Pierce said as he examined her reflection in the mirrored finish of the turbolift carriage doors, "Have I told you how absolutely spiffing you look tonight? Positively cracking."

 

[Tanomas Graf]

It had been painful.

The weeks following the Omega War were filled with mourning.

Thirty-six. That was the number of souls lost under the command of the brevet-admiral. But three squadrons of fighters were nothing compared to the rest of the fleet, entire ships were lost to the combined power of the Sith Armada, Graf had had the least losses of the front line. Out of the six Fleet commanders; Grand Admiral Kerkov, Grand Admiral Tregessar, Admiral Yvarro, Himself, Captain Rausgeber, and Grand Moff Fortan, three of them had come out unscathed while two were wounded and one lost their life. Grand Admiral Kerkov was one of the greatest naval officers he had known, and he had perish in the Deadly Void along with thousands of others.

But that didn't weigh him down as much as it had during the waning hours of the battle. Tonight he was here to attend a banquet held for the veterans of Omega, be it on the ground, in space, or on the weapon itself.

A rather luxurious speeder had arrived at the naval base that Graf had been visiting after a routine patrol on the Sanctuary Pipeline near the Annaj system. After a silent ride to the Avalonia Grand Hotel, the old man was let out by the chauffeur and he made his way up the steps to the lobby where he stood staring down at the arrival area. He was waiting for his date, much to the chagrin of the hotel staff that were trying to direct him to the elevators. He hadn't asked just anyone to accompany him, he had asked someone that shared his age and was a former-superior of his, Admiral [member="Fiolette Yvarro"]. They had both come into contact during her stay in the hospital after the horrors of Omega, and decided that having someone, no matter how despicable to the other, was better then spending a vulnerable night alone while dozens of others had dates themselves.

Tanomas straightened his crisp pitch-black military uniform and continued staring out into the night, hoping that she would arrive before the good stuff started.

 

[Wolf]

Well. I suppose just this once. Wolfgang Krieger inspected himself in the mirror, clean-shaven. He could not remember the last time he had cared over his own appearance and presentation to such a degree. No doubt the gravity and significance behind the event had moved him so, and neither did he wish to embarrass his companion for the night by looking like a scruff. The young Knight of Ren finished up getting ready for the banquet, buttoning up his jacket, sitting on his hoverchair, as he pushed a control and turned to leave. He looked down at his useless legs and smiled, shaking his head as if it were a mild annoyance. He could not even be sure if he would ever walk again. They all bore their scars from Omega. Some more visible than others.

Wolfgang has chosen to travel by foot, or by hoverchair, as it were. His service as a Knight of Ren was one that did not offer much in the way of free time, so if he could see the grand jewel of the Empire up close on the way to the Awards Banquet, he would take the opportunity. Avalonia was certainly a testament to the achievement and excellence of the First Order, he very much enjoyed strolling down these streets when he could. Imagine a city a half, even a quarter as magnificent as this one, on planets throughout the galaxy. What a wonderful world that would be. Avalonia spoke of classic and refined taste while pronouncing a bold future for the galaxy. It betrayed an old-fashioned elegance and charm while being visionary and progressive all at once.

Wolf remembered with mild amusement the hopes he had once placed in the One Sith to bring order to the galaxy. That was through a brute barbarism, a calculated equation that by natural selection and random chance the strong would by and large bring orderly rule to the weak. But this, this was altogether different. There was nothing to be unsure of, nor motives to be questioned, the First Order had a clear and united vision for the galaxy and it was all thanks to the Supreme Leader that any of this was possible. Wolf had been raised in an Imperial military family, and despite thinking he had no time himself for the extravagances that surrounded him as he made his way along the street, he could not help but feel proud that he served a faction that could finally make a legitimate claim to be the successor to the legendary Galactic Emperor himself who reigned so many centuries ago.

The Avalonia Grand Hotel certainly did not disappoint for elegance and charm either. Wolf expected nothing less from the First Order for the venue. Hotel staff were warm in their greeting, and Wolf politely refused as one offered to help him. His hoverchair was more than capable of giving Wolf the assistance he needed. Not to mention the Force. Wolf looked around the reception as he entered, and he felt at once a sense of nostalgia. Not that he had ever been here before. But the last time he had ever been to big events like these, in grand hotels and elegant ballrooms. Oh, he must have only been a boy, or a teenager at the time. Indeed, Wolf wondered whether any of his family might be here. Not that they were a part of some inherited aristocracy, but their hard-nosed history of military service likely meant a few of their number would be here, perhaps indeed to be recipients of awards.

Wolf noticed men and women who were donned in military uniform, while he wore a tux himself. He was very much happy with his civilian obscurity, there was no official rank or uniform for a Knight of Ren. The only thing he needed for uniform was the lightsaber that rested in his inside jacket pocket. Even without the ability to walk, he at least felt somewhat capable if he had that ancient weapon. After meeting his date, he was shown to the elevator by the hotel staff, and from there was taken to the fifteenth floor to the larger lobby area.

He and [member="Sara Lee Jones"] emerged from the elevator on the fifteenth floor together, and she turned to him to speak. Not a bad looking place what do you say Wolf? "Not a bad looking place at all." He smiled as he looked up to her. "And I must say, Sara, you do look rather splendid tonight," he paused, "though I must admit, I have always had a soft spot for a woman in uniform." He grinned to her, his fingers toggling the controls of the hoverchair as he moved forward into the lobby area, his tone and expressions betraying nothing of the emptiness that lay behind his words. He smiled in thanks as a waiter brought around champagne. He took two glasses, offering one to Sara as he took in his surroundings. The music was upbeat, there was no tears or solemn looks anymore. That had all been said and done at the Memorial. Now it was time to celebrate their victory.

Wolf intended to make use of this short amount of free time and enjoy it as much as he could. He had gotten word that the Order of Ren had something planned for him, a method by which he could walk again. Wolf had an inkling as to what it might be. And if his suspicions were correct, he had better make the most of this night before heading back to Virgillia. He took a large gulp of his champagne.

 

[Progflaw99]

The last few weeks had been a blur. The Omega Crisis had somehow managed to draw all of the galaxy's major and minor governments together. For a brief moment in history, they had set aside their differences and acted in the best interest of everyone, but now that the crisis was over there was no telling how long the fragile peace would last. Of course there were those governments who hadn't contributed but The First Order was not on that list. It had been one of the more stable governments as of late, creating an order over societies within it's grasp. It had been one of the reasons she'd had to even visit Avalonia, the capital city of Dosuun. First Order space had been pleasant to travel through, the lush wildlife of Skye, the scientific progress on Riflor, even the Jungles of Zarnathea where the First Order was busy as ever building new cities and improving the already existing ones.

Originally her interest had been nothing more than her usual wanderlust, travelling from place to place in the galaxy but she'd been taken by her hobby as of late, ballet. It was no secret, she loved to dance. If you asked her why, she'd likely give you the generic answer of "It makes me feel free." and while that might seem cliche, it really was the truth. Lilith had been in Avalonia for close to a week before she'd absentmindedly walked past the ballet studio on her street. She'd rented a small flat just down the block from the place and had immediately fallen in love. Constantly travelling meant not getting much time to indulge herself in dancing, ballet or otherwise. Now that she'd signed at the very least a six month lease, the avid dancer decided to pick it up once more.

That had been where she'd met the lovely [member="Pierce Fortan III"]. The dendrobian orchids had caught her eye immediately when they'd been delivered to the stage door on the night of one of her performances. It wasn't unusual to get roses or during the spring season tulips but never an orchid. The beauty of an orchid was one not easily matched, the shape and even smell of the flower itself an ode to nature. The following night she'd been introduced to the man behind them.

The 'man on crutches' as security had told her was in fact the cousin of the Grand Moff herself, [member="Natasi Fortan"]. She'd waved the man back and as he'd come out of the dim lighting, backstage, it had felt like a vivarium of butterflies had suddenly been let loose in her stomach. It was a strange feeling for Lilith, butterflies were not something she normally encountered being used to performing in front of large concert halls. The rest had written itself and the young woman had agreed to attend a veteran's banquet as the TIE pilot's plus one, and now they had arrived.

Elegantly she exited the cab, her hands smoothing the black dress she'd chosen for the evening. Smiling as she looked over and saw Pierce getting his crutches in order she moved around the vehicle, standing next to her date for the evening. She gave him a sweet smile as he regrettably noted that he'd be unable to give her his arm, tilting her head slightly. Nodding she walked with him, not ahead but not behind either. Once the pair had reached the turbolift, she nimbly reached out, pressing the button that corresponded with where they were headed. The hotel had so many floors. The man's compliment caused her cheeks to blush, Lilith herself turning to admire her date's uniform.

"You're looking quite handsome yourself, your fellow pilots might want to hold onto their dates!" She smiled, placing her hand on his forearm as she spoke and giving him a playful grin. She was excited and honored that Pierce had invited her along, if the hotel itself was anything to judge by this was going to be quite the event.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Admiral Fiolette Yvarro with her daughter Lucinyia's help managed to get the Iron Dragon up to her feet. The admiral's walking stick was made of a dense wood from one of the more tropical planets within the First Order's territory. Emblazoned on the top was the First Imperial Navy's insignia and along the front it bore the registry number of the late FIV Rae Sloane, INCC-12157 and the motto, 'never surrender.'

She stood tall and looked sharp in her naval uniform. Lucy took a step back and looked her mother over and cross referenced with the First Order Navy's Uniform Guide to ensure that everything was correct. Using a ruler she measured everything exactly. After all, Lucy was to attend the Imperial War College in Victoria quite soon, and would be a naval officer herself.

Lucy was dressed a lovely deep navy blue gown that almost looked black without proper lighting. Her younger sisters, Ryssa and Ariel would be taken care of by their father former Chief Warrant Officer Josef Yvarro who had long since been retired from any form of Imperial Naval Service. Ariel insisted that she should attend because that's where cousin Natasi was going to be. Lucy managed to get Ariel to stay put by saying that she would try to have Natasi call the toddler before bed time, although this was not a guarantee. It was enough, however; to get the four-year-old to calm down.

Ryssa only bothered to ask if they could bring home some dinner from the event. Of course, Ryssa would only ask for food - she was more interested in her own self preservation than that of her sisters. Content to sit with pop until mom and sister got back to take them back to the house.

With both Lucy and Fiolette now properly dressed for the event, they walked out of their home and toward the speeder that awaited them.

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Although he'd been front and centre during the Omega Crisis, its influence on the human scale had been lost at the time. Sure, it was the greatest battle fought since Endor, he knew that in and out, but it was the human toll. Now, only weeks later, did it make true sense to the captain. After the memorial service, he'd been approached by several ensigns and midshipmen, who'd had four friend of theirs aboard the Vindicator. One perished in the ensuing reactor blast, but the other three had survived thanks to the captains call of evacuating the ship early. And for that, they wished to be deployed aboard his command. Something which had startled the captain. He wasn't used to this sort of attention. He didn't like attention. The attention of others made him snap, and change his decision making processes.

While others arrived in speeders, Carlyle walked from his nearby apartment up the stairs to the hotel, a lone figure attired in his black uniform. The captain strolled casually up, he made a nod to [member="Tanomas Graf"], "Good to see you again Commodore," He offered with a small smile, "How have you been?" he asked.

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

One of life's strange eccentricities was that all hell seemed to break loose at the same time. When it rains, it pours, that age-old adage, could not have been more true in describing the last few weeks' sequence of events. Supreme Commander Vaas' line of work, both currently and previously, had taught him to be surprised at nothing.

Still, he couldn't help but take a second glance at the after-action reports which listed [member="Natasi Fortan"] as the acting Supreme Commander during his tumultuous week in the hospital after a freak accident that had kept him from the front lines of the Omega crisis. Too much had happened in the last few weeks, it was growing difficult to keep track of. Aram Kalast was dead, Ludolf himself nearly so, and during his recovery period the entire galaxy nearly succumbed to the megalomaniacal machinations of a few rogue Sith Lords. Just your average day at the office.

Ludolf had also had the pleasure of sifting through the reports detailing a massive civilian attack on Korriban by the Silver Sanctum Coalition, resulting in tens of thousands dead. Not the Jedi's finest hour, to be sure. Of course, Vaas himself knew better, and would expect nothing less from the galaxy's so-called harbingers of "peace" - yes, the same ones who had attacked the First Order unprovoked on Eriadu all those years ago in the name of much-vaunted democracy. No matter, the incident would serve as excellent propaganda for the First Order. Vaas wanted desperately for the Omega Crisis to be forgotten, so that he could move on to discovering Kalast's attackers and avenging him, but the First Order military had shone brightly during this trial. They were very nearly the singularly-most responsible for saving the galaxy from the Omega.

Vaas wouldn't hold his breath for any thank-you cards from the rest of the galaxy.

As he ascended the elevator with his fiancee' [member="Marzena Choi"], clad in his usual spotless black dress uniform, Ludolf was simply happy to be walking again. He was happy to not have any tubes attached to his veins, or to be taking oxygen through a breathing apparatus. His stay in the hospital was one he would soon like to forget. Instead, he turned towards his lover and offered her a congenial smile, reaching out with his black leather-gloved hand and squeezing hers. The First Order's heroes would be honored this evening, and as for Ludolf - it would be a good opportunity to get him feeling like himself once again.

"Have you seen this menu?" Ludolf held up his pocket holoprojector at Marzena, which displayed the invitation. "Natasi has spared no expense, I see."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Oh, this old thing?" said Pierce, tugging at the red tails of his jacket so that it laid smooth across his torso. He glanced over at her, the lenses of his spectacles glinting in the light of the elevator carriage, and offered a genuine smile. "Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I thought for sure you'd tell me where to stick it -- you must get offers all the time." He paused for a moment, swallowing as the turbolift continued inexorably upwards. "You see -- after the incident at Castemere, I've been trying to live more fully -- say yes to impulses I would otherwise reject as outlandish or impossible -- for instance, approaching a beautiful dancer backstage."

It wasn't that Pierce didn't think himself attractive or good with the ladies -- rather the opposite. But the Dirty Duchess was one thing. Lilith seemed to be another thing altogether. Not cheap. Not tawdry. Not easy.

"Before we go out there," he nodded towards the door. "I should warn you about some of the people you're going to encounter. My cousin, [member="Natasi Fortan"], will be there of course. She'll come over and make a fuss -- she always does. I suspect that a frightful aunt will be there, Aunt Fiolette -- I don't know her as well as Natasi, except by reputation, and that leaves much to be desired, but perhaps having her ship blown apart around her will instill some humility." He made a face as if to indicate that he doubted it sincerely. "My commanding officer -- and, unrelated, my best mate -- is [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"], he'll be here. You'll know him by the mustache. It's not regulation, but somehow he manages. He's rather nice." He paused and adjusted his grip on his crutches, half-turning to face [member="Lilith Sedarri"]. "Do you know anyone who might be here? I suppose it's rather myopic of me to make assumptions."

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked back down at his shoes, unable to contain the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "What's your drink, by the way? I'll get us something to wet our whistles when we get there."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi flitted through the cocktail area, acknowledging people from across the room with the greetings they warranted -- [member="Marzena Choi"] a warm smile, [member="Ludolf Vaas"] a cool one, [member="Horus"] a raised hand of greeting and a smile, [member="Sara Lee Jones"] and [member="Wolf"] a respectful nod -- but it wasn't until she saw [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] and [member="Tanomas Graf"] conversing that she had time to stop. "Gentlemen," she said genially as she approached, turning their pair into a threesome. "I apologize for the intrusion, but -- oh," she held up a finger to a passing cater waitress, "Dirty martini, straight up, three olives," she said, before turning back to the two officers, clasping her fingers together in front of her. "Sorry. Ready for the big event, Commodore?" She smiled at Carlyle, then turned to Graf. "Admiral?"

The Grand Moff looked around at the people filing out of the elevator and joining the soiree, scanning for anyone she had to talk to. She knew that wanted to have words with [member="Horus"] before the cocktail hour got too involved and give him her personal thanks for the work his people did during the Omega Crisis, but she was sure there were others -- Pierce and Fiolette among them -- that she would want to speak with. But that could wait.

"Anyway -- there are two seats near the front reserved for you and your guests. You'll want to be able to get up and down quickly," she explained. "You can ask one of the ushers if you can't find them. Do either of you have any questions or concerns before the big show?"

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

His uniform was immaculate, of course, and its brilliant white stood out in sharp contrast to the black, silver, and red favored by most of the First Order military. By his stance, his gaze, and his presence he seemed every inch the archetypal role model of a Grand Admiral, and power and command, here because he was the face of the First Order Navy, the emblem of invincibility and victory. He did not falter, because all his pride and his upbringing would not let him, but those who studied him closely could see that all was not as it seemed, and if they reached out with the force or just a practiced eye much used to seeing the schemes of men, they would see clear as day the war that raged between unbridled fury and a melancholy more serious than that brought on by defeat.

In moments of lucidity, those brief periods of sobriety that came between fighting off hangovers and returning to drink, Cyrus had taken to calling it the 'victory disease,' in a private joke of sorts.

Those who knew kept it to themselves, mostly, but they still found time to talk in quiet places about the cause. Some figured he was in mourning, having lost someone dear. That was pure sentimentality, of course, and if they truly knew what little regard Cyrus held for the honored dead they would almost certainly have felt nothing but disgust. He had thrown the First Order fleet into the fray without a thought for the cost, driven only by an all-consuming need to destroy the very organization he had created.

So they'd done what some were calling a great, good thing. Hence the ceremony, all to honor something Cyrus found rather trifling at best. After all, if they'd lost then in the space over Castameer there'd still be a war on.

The venue was certainly grand enough, Cyrus thought to himself as he entered the main ballroom, flanked by his usual entourage. The dutiful Commodore Vayyrel at his right, and his chief of staff Admiral Sekerian at his left, each followed by a small cadre of senior aides. Sekerian made a few excuses and departed. He was one of those officers blessed with having a generally agreeable temperament and had a fantastic reputation amongst the fleet. Hot-blooded and furious in battle, as befitting his kaleesh heritage, he was normally personable and easy to talk to, and now made his way around the junior ratings, surprising those enlisted lucky enough to attend with a joke or amusing quip.

Cyrus watched this with a vague interest as he made his way towards the bar. His seat for the ceremony proper was at the very front of the ballroom, as befitting his rank as now the only Grand Admiral in the Navy. Most of the other fleet commanders from the Omega battle were already present, even the still-recovering [member="Fiolette Yvarro"]. There was also at least one other guest who stood out, and Cyrus had to assume he was the commander of the Commonwealth forces from the battle.

A young kitchen staffer approached with barely disguised caution, wary perhaps of Cyrus' reputation for... what? Surely not drunkenness, Cyrus thought wryly as he snatched a glass of something off the tray.

 

[Asharad Graush]

A'sharad had entered the Avalonia Grand Hotel alone. He had ideas of who to bring with him, but he had thought better of it. Travel time, relations, asking... Yes, asking would've been weird. A'sharad didn't ask, he just did, but for an event like this? You couldn't just force someone to drop everything they were doing to accompany you. Better that he just went alone in any case. Still, he had sent a message about it, to multiple individuals. When he entered the elevator, his long strides had brought him ahead of the crowd that had been forming outside. As a High Colonel of the First Order, and undoubtedly one of the recipients of the awards, he was allowed to bypass the line to get inside - thankfully. But when they next clump of people had approached the elevator with the sole occupant of A'sharad it closed.

With a barely perceptible wave of his hand, he engaged the lift mechanisms and the door shut and was on its way to the fifteenth floor. His black uniform was spotless, as usual, his silver lightsabre hilt in full view for everyone to see. However the only aspect of his appearance that appeared out of place was his hair. Messy, as if the only time he had put to taming it was a hand tousling about.

And then the elevator door opened and after he exhaled, a single stride took him out of the lift. His golden orbs took in the sights immediately. He was almost never relaxed, and he likely would never be. Not with so many strangers around him.

The first person that he immediately recognized was [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]. A man who had proceeded to insult him on an open communications line, unbeknownst that it was on. He was talking to someone he had never seen before, a, [member="Tanomas Graf"], though his golden orbs barely registered him. Just two old men speaking together. Nothing of note. And then the Grand Moff, [member="Natasi Fortan"] joined their trio. That was when he looked away and continued on to find his seating place.

His eyes narrowed as he walked. Through the crowds he spotted, [member="Ludolf Vaas"], the Field Marshal that he had thrown over his shoulder and carried to a medical ship. At that point he slowed to a stop as his gaze once more swept about the room. He spotted what he was looking for, and then there was a glass of wine in his hand, swiped from some tray. Tilting it up to his lips, he sipped at it as he watched and... what? Waited? He imagined there would've been plenty of that.

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

She gave a smile to [member="Wolf"] and chuckled with a light blush as she took the champagne and looked to him "oh is that so now? Well then makes two of us though instead I admire a man in uniform" she said and leaned closer"especially a man who risks his life

With that she stood up again sipping her champagne, she offered a nod to [member="Natasi Fortan"] raising her glass to her a s she looked among the crowd, the event was cheery and the mood was a upbeat and energetic, it was as if the events of omega had simply caused them to mourn for a little then now celebrated victory, she gave a smile to herself as she moved her cybernetic left arm gently

[member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] [member="Lilith Sedarri"]

 

[Marzena Vaas]

Marzena Choi had been thinking about death a lot lately, more than she ever had before – and certainly more than she had ever wanted to. In recent weeks, it simply seemed unavoidable. One event after another, she had nearly lost [member="Ludolf Vaas"], attended the memorial for Supreme Commander Kalast, and watched as the Omega Crisis unfolded. All of them were harsh reminders that life was precious. And for some, it was far too short. But tonight, it seemed that the dark clouds were beginning to roll away. She was more than happy to attend an event to honor those that had brought such glory to the First Order during the Omega War. Even though it felt selfish to entertain such a thought, she was glad that Ludolf had missed it.

After all, he had needed time to recover. During that period, she had done her best to make their home restful and relaxing. Easier said than done. It had been difficult to distract Ludolf from work, and reading all of the reports that flooded in. So, she had attempted to spend time amusing him with facts about their baby’s growth. Darling, this article says that our baby is the size of an avocado, isn’t that funny? Marzena had also done some cooking; an attempt to give Ludolf some much needed comfort food. Of course, it had meant that he’d had to pity eat a few not-so-successful meals. At least such occurrences were rare; he had that to be thankful for.

As the pair stood quietly in the lift, Marzena aimed a sidelong glance at her fiancé. Immediately, she was flooded by a strong sense of relief and endless gratitude. The images of Ludolf connected to wires and medical equipment had not been forgotten, a wound across her memory. But she was thankful that he had made it through, and that he would be at her side tonight – and forevermore. Marzena smoothed out the skirt of her black gown, tonight she had chosen one with an empire waist, a forgiving shape to conceal her growing stomach. Ludolf's hand found hers, and she squeezed his palm in return. Her eyes shifted to the menu, skimming over most of the options until she found the selections of desserts. Dark Chocolate Mousse Cake. She bit her lip.

“She’s certainly outdone herself,” Marzena smiled, and took a deep breath. “I’ve decided that I’m going to treat myself tonight. I’m going to eat dessert. I deserve it, right?”

The lift dinged to signal that they had arrived, and the two found their way to the cocktail reception. Looking around, there were some vaguely familiar faces – those she had seen at the Military Ball. However, she did find the elegant figure of the Grand Moff, a very welcome sight. Marzena returned the smile sent her way by [member="Natasi Fortan"], giving her one that was equally warm and genuine.

“Shall we have a quick drink?” She glanced to Ludolf, and flagged down a server. “Sparkling cider, please.”

 

[Zef Halo]

Late to the party.
As always.


What would an intelligence agent do in a public event such as the ceremony after the Omega crisis. The time for mourning was over and it was the time for awards to be given to those that deserved them. Jude had stayed long in his bed contemplating whether to come as the memories of that crisis plagued his mind. He had come to the conclusion that even reading a book all night rather than sleeping, his mind would still divert to this event. Hence, the agent's only choice was to join the ceremony. Free drinks, free food, music and people would certainly keep his mind occupied from the blight.

Jude's arrival was later than most, he'd decided to come at the last minute. That could easily be deducted by his grown stubble. At least, he had tied his hair back in a ponytail. The navy colored three piece suit that he donned was tailored perfectly to his size and despite not being a vain person, he looked as sharp as ever. When he entered the grand hall, he realized that he was correct. The cacophony that hit him truly washed away all thoughts of the Omega and his participation in it.

As always, similar to what his boss [member="Sentiri"] would do, Jude moved further away from the main gathering and to the site where those of 'lower ranking' were situated. Being a skilled agent, although unpredictable, his eyes easily marked a few notable figures - the Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"], the crazy lady he helped with some naval construction - Admiral [member="Fiolette Yvarro"], the Supreme Commander - [member="Ludolf Vaas"], and the man who had evacuated him from the Omega - [member="Asharad Graush"]. Of course, those were just a handful of the notable characters that had been here. A large presence of naval personnel was noticed and what took Jude's attention was the Commonwealth delegation.


A smirk widened on his face. He wondered who had been tasked with monitoring them ? Intelligence Bureaus never slept.

 

[Alleycat]

It felt strange and unnerving to be in the First Order's space to begin with, but even stranger and more unnerving to be invited into the heart of their domaine to drink and dine lavishly with a potential enemy/friend. Were they being recruited to join or scrutinized up close? Both, most likely. Sasha Starkos was no politician, but the Omega event had shown just how shallow alliances could be. Well actually before that with the Korriban Incident, though that one had been cut deeply. It would be hard to relax here knowing they were in the middle of the lion's den so to speak, but the NCO would do her best because Admiral Nelson asked his brave and honorable men and women of the armed forces to do so while attending the dinner on behalf of the Commonwealth and at the invitation of the First Order.

Since they were representing their faction and on foreign soil, formal military attire was called for. The Sergeant was wearing a nicely-fitted CW Marine Corps White Dress Uniform with her copper-red hair pulled back into a neat donut bun. The dark jade-eyed Corellian had so hoped they could wear civilian formal wear as Sasha had a cocktail dress screaming to be worn in her footlocker back at the barracks on Alexandria, but that request had gotten shot down. There hadn't been much of a chance for the Marine Sniper to put the pretty red dress on with all the fighting as of late. Guess shaving her long, tone legs had been for nothing since the uniform pants covered them.

Stepping out of the turbolift onto the fifteenth floor, Sasha let a soft whistle leave her lightly glossed lips as the full swankiness of the hotel's amenities came to life. The group of Commonwealth military personnel walked out into the grandiose lobby area, spotting the Lord of Admirals easily sitting at a table in his crisp white dress uniform and surrounded by his security detail. He was looking a bit haggard to be honest, but knew it wouldn't be for long as his Andris had been presented to him; it was a little known secret drug use in the Commonwealth was not looked upon as a bad thing. Though for the spirited Corellisi, alcohol was her preferred savor and comforter.

"Whiskey neat, please," Sash spoke to the bartender as the bar would be her first stop for the night. As the tall, red-haired shock trooper waited for the drink to be delivered, her green eyes perused over the people gathered. The First Order sure knew how to put on the ritz, but was it for show and tell, or was there more to it?

Spoiler

[member="Horus"] [member="Eli Brooks"] [member="Zee"] [member="Isaac Knight"] [member="Cait Falcor"] [member="Kel Hamner"] [member="Corrax Talrus"] [member="Winslow"] [member="Warfield Lester"] [member="Rayce Tharelle"] [member="Giorg Montey"] [member="Allison Martha Iversson"] [member="Jacen Konshu"] and any other active CW I missed.

 

[Darth Caecus]

The last time Zee had interacted with the First Order, things had been.... difficult. Only for her, but the similarities between them and the memories of Xyra's empire had been overwhelming. She had all but fled, shaken to her core by the overwhelming desire to stay- the comfort and familiarity in a galaxy that was profoundly uncomfortable had appealed to part of her on a deeply intrinsic level. Unfortunately, it had appealed to a part of her that she was hell-bent on keeping ancient history.

She was Zee now. Commonwealth marine, simple soldier, [member="Cait Falcor"] 's friend. Not Xyra Sizhran, former head of ISB, who orchestrated bloody plots and manipulated people at a whim. Not the woman who killed billions of people on Taris because it had been a means to an end. That woman was half a millennia gone. And good riddance. She could be something else, something better. Something simpler, perhaps. Just Zee.

It had been a more difficult decision that she would admit to anyone to come here today. While she had been assigned to the homeguard during the Omega War, she was part of the CNI group assigned to Admiral [member="Horus"] Nelson for tonight's event. While perhaps she could have explained enough to excuse herself, that wasn't part of who she was, or had ever been.

And facing this, these conflicting emotions, head on, was something she needed to do.

Heading up in the lift, she stood near the front, between Horus and the doors. The petite blonde wasn't particularly intimidating to look at, but her position tonight actually made that beneficial. She studiously ignored the events transpiring behind her, her face a careful mask.

"Lord Admiral, we'll be arriving momentarily," she murmured, giving him time to make sure he was presentable before the doors opened.

Light and laughter flooded in to the lift as they did, and Zee steeled herself for what was to come.

Right now, she's rather be facing a dozen soldiers armed and trying to kill her. At least that was straight forward.