Debauchery At Best [CIS Dominion of Void Station]

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

There was a purpose for everything, a price.

Void Station happened to be of the price she was willing to pay for. The Sith Master was often fond of omniscient grandeur and the space palace on an asteroid... well it defined it rather accurately. This of course was not the real reason for journey there; it was just one among many. "We are taking the station," she announced to a room of various sentient species gathered. Anesia gave her utmost democratic smile and stepped down from the podium with soft clicks of stiletto heels. "Lift off is in twenty and don't forget to freshen up," she rattled, before dipping away to the docking bay.

The light-freighter was sleek, shiny and appeared non-aggressive, or less so than most of the manifest. It boasted nothing other than its beautiful lines and luxury upon contact, Anesia noted immediately. Though she knew it not to be a vessel of war, it still had the ability to defend itself and its occupants. It was of the personal kind and gave the tone of subtle aristocrat instead of sure death.

After all, the point was to persuade and to save this round.

With in one of the diplomacy-grade dormitories, Anesia resigned herself to the desk that decorated the room. There was tech that would in no doubt make things easier, but like many things, she preferred the archaic way. A simple book of parchment rested to the right along with quill and ink. The woman sat, first pulling on a deep gray pencil skirt so as not to wrinkle her attire before even arriving. Dark, tousled tresses fell as she leaned, plucking the writing instrument first. Hand poised, she began:

Since before the battle over Druckenwell reigned, The Confederacy of Independent Systems had been a target. As red as the sky was black. It pulsed with the purpose of their past, a beacon for the enemies, created from anarchy; a one Isley Verd. A single mind that sought power and control for only himself. He waved no flag, but a knife meant to drive chaos, to divide. All his false bravado blinded him to the stage of madness in which he innocently danced upon... with such flair. As if it were his.

"Pity," she said to herself. How quickly they fall when the tune changes... The quill in her hand paused upon the parchment and she glanced from it to the viewport in the The Reverend's cabin. There was something to be said about space and its way of enthralling a person. Anesia gazed quietly, watching the stars fly past in the comfort of aristocracy.

[member="Salem Norongachi"] | [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] | [member="Kal Strife"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"]​

 

[Garza]

Temp quarters on the Freighter

Adjusting the tie around my neck, I was literally dressed in all black. Black three piece suit, with black tie, and shirt. Even my socks and undergarments were black. Sliding the tie up to my neck, I then put on the black and silver trimmed vest letting the semi-tight spidersilk hug my body. I then put on the jacket and placed a small datapad within the inside pocket, as well as the hilt of my lightsaber. Since this was a more diplomatic situation, I carried no visible weapons, well other than the GH-44 blaster pistol on my thigh. For people to trust you, you need to have something visible. They see it and call it out, but don't really check any further.

Putting on my rings on my fingers, the Talon like rings felt good on my hand once more. I was waiting for us to arrive at Void Station. And seeing as how everyone else was just simply going to do nothing with one another, I might as well stay in my room. But with the door open should anybody need me.

A smile came to my lips as I took out a Kolto cigar that I never finished from the Invasion of the Protectorate. Cutting the burnt end off, and lighting it once more, I took a few puffs and relaxed as we were almost to our destination.

[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"],

 

[Irulan Shae]

Void Station. Such a dull name for an opulent palace amongst the stars, or so Irulan Shae thought as she gazed down at the datanet entry on the Station. It was not the first time she had entertained the thought, or even the tenth, for the voyage had been a long one and there was little in the way of entertainment aboard the Templar-class freighter. At first, she had hoped that she might discover a kindred spirit with an eager wit amongst her fellow passengers, but, alas, first impressions had suggested they were almost as bad as the soldiers who accompanied her.

A brief exchange of curses from the two soldiers, who sat at a small table across her temporary quarters indulging in a game of cards, drew the diplomat's gaze a moment, and her crimson painted lips parted in a hint of an indulgent smile as she revised that last thought - perhaps they were a little better than her honour guard.

"Ah, hell, sarge," the younger of the two, a Corporal, groaned, "Again? I'd swear you were cheating if I wasn't watching your hands."

"Never call a Corellian a cheater, boy," the sergeant, a older man with more than a few scars in his leathery hide, answered in the familiar drawl that was so distinctive of Corellia, "Tends to shorten your life." He was scooping up his winnings - scrips of paper with hastily scrawled amounts barely visible on them - as he spoke, and as he finished he turned to glance across at his charge. "So, you enjoyin' your readin' ladyship? Sure we can't persuade you to join us in an honest game?"

With a smile and a shake of her head that set her dark hair cascading across her shoulders, Irulan set her datapad aside. "This datapad may prove the key to our success, Sergeant," she answered chidingly, "Besides, I don't think there's any such thing as an honest game when you're dealing the cards." The words drew a bark of laughter from the Corporal, and after a moment the sergeant added his own chuckle to the noise even whilst he returned his attention to the deck of cards set before him.

Irulan watched his back a moment longer, before shaking her head once more and returning her attention to the datapad. Maybe they weren't too bad. For soldiers.

 

[Taa Nul]

Void Station, The Palace of the Count:

The Count sat quietly in his private office, sipping a cup of herbal tea as he awaited the arrival of his Confederate compatriots, his two IG-100 magnaguards stood at his sides. He owned the shipyards building the massive Lucrehulks fielded by the CIS Navy around the station, as well as his own personal residence aboard the station. This gathering would finally give him the opportunity to fully integrate his company, Hoersch-Kessel Driveworks into the Techno Union. He had sent several company-marked protocol droids to meet with the Confederate representatives in the hangar when their vessel arrived, to guide them to his office so they could meet privately and discuss the necessary details. The Count had one goal in mind for this meeting, to be made the Viceroy of the Station, which was his center of operations...

[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]
[member="Morna Imura"]
[member="Irulan Shae"]

 

[EmKay]

The sleek silver Templar-class freighter slid effortlessly into the hangar of Void Station, flanked by two smaller, more military light freighters, and outside the hangar an escort wing of starfighters broke off formation and went on parade around the station. Nothing intended as aggressive, merely security precautions on account of recent events. While the captain of the Templar-class performed post-flight checks, the other freighters shut off unceremoniously and the loading ramps opened. From both flanking freighters came two small contingents of soldiers from the Confederate Army, as well as two or three Knights Obsidian mingled in the ranks. They formed two lines, turned inward with military, precision, and upon the opening of the Templar-class' loading ramp they held their blaster rifles in salute of the diplomats to exit the central shuttle.

Atretes stood from the seat he'd been given nearest the loading ramp to the Templar-class. He'd just received communication from the earpiece to his pocket secretary that the troops were in formation. He straightened out his light gray, green-trimmed coat and straightened his tie. Military officer uniform, given to him for this special assignment. For the negotiations of Void Station, he was chief of security. The polished hilt of his lightsaber hung from his black belt, and his slugthrower pistol was slung to his thigh smuggler-style. He looked very professional clean-shaven with combed hair, and his violet eyes pierced the veil of landing lights critically. Then the ramp swung open with a hydraulic hiss and he led the march of people out into the hangar.

His first sight was that of organised military ranks standing to decorate the arrival of the negotiation party. He kept his bearing, and returned their salute before marching forward to escort those intending to negotiate out of the ship. He swung to the right side of the formation and took position at the end of that line of troops, then barked out the command to stand at a parade rest. His eyes swung over the assembly, and he noted the protocol droids likely sent out as liaisons to whomever happened to be in charge of the station. He gave a subtle nod to himself, then pulled out his secretary, and began to slice into the communications systems. He transmitted a friendly identification as "Confederate Security", and once he was into the system he tucked the device into his coat and tapped the earpiece to activate it. Then he spoke.

"This is Obsidian Knight Atretes Rhoujen to all aboard Void Station. In light of the arrival of a diplomatic party to negotiate folding this region into Confederate control, we have established a security unit to ensure the 'living' status of all involved parties," he said, his quiet tones amplified over the PA system, "all weapons not belonging to some form of security personnel will be confiscated until the diplomatic meetings are adjourned. Checks will be made, and violators will be detained for questioning." he finished, then he glanced over to see [member="Morna Imura"]'s blaster hanging obnoxiously from his hip. He made a gesture, and a security guard stepped forward to pause the other man's walk.

"Sir, I will need to confiscate that pistol, please." he soldier said politely, yet firmly. Security measures were to remain in place, regardless of alignment or association. Meanwhile, Atretes made a circling gesture with the same hand, and the soldiers snapped to attention before about-facing and falling out. Near the doorways into the station proper, they set up scanners and detectors for weapons and other malicious devices. None would enter Void Station armed. A second detachment of the security force of soldiers went into the station ahead of everyone else and checked the local residents for weapons, confiscating where necessary. There would be no surprises during these political meetings -- unless someone decided to make the unfortunate act of brandishing the Force. If only Atretes knew what an ysalamir was.

In his mind, past the military training he'd received and command over this small force, he was excited to see the diplomats in action. As the security chief, he would be in attendance at the meeting to ensure safety, as was the intent of this military operation. He would also have his pocket secretary out to keep tabs on goings-on throughout the station, and would be alerted immediately if something went amiss. This would all be very interesting for him, that was certain.

[member="Count Morcus"] / [member="Irulan Shae"] / [member="Morna Imura"] / [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]​

 

[Garza]

I had come out of the room when we were landing. I saw a few of the others that were here with me and here to speak with those on the Void station to allow them to join the CIS. As much as I would hate to admit it, the former leader of the Templars did not do so well. Leaving in shambles and to which our current leaders were trying to get rid of the name that was once tainted. As I was walking out, I took another puff when the Apprentice of the LC came out to say that all weapons would be confiscated. I smiled as he looked directly to me and pointed it out. Pulling the holster off of the belt, I wrapped up the wrappings around the blaster pistol and handed it. to the officer. Nodding my head.

"I would happen to like that back young man." I spoke. Really some of these people were older than me, but being in my early thirties when most of the soldiers around here were in their twenties, hell some were even in their teenager years. Oh that was the life as a nineteen year old Fire shaper thinking he could take on the Galaxy.

[member="Atretes Rhoujen"], [member="Count Morcus"], [member="Irulan Shae"], [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"],

 

[EmKay]

Atretes offered Imura the polite bow customary against almost every Force user known to the galaxy, and offered the man a neutral expression, even in regard to his own age.

"Your weapon, or weapons if we discover and concealed possessions, shall be returned to you when you return to the freighter," he said with his final word accompanying a gesture to the Templar-class not far away, "We have, I am sure you noticed, assigned security lockers to each of you to house such possessions. Here is your code." he finished, and handed the elder man a slip of flimsy that held a simple three-digit code to the eight-button security lock on the locker that would have been in his assigned temporary room. He then stepped aside and allowed Morna free passage to one of the two security checkpoints that would scan him for concealed weapons, confiscate those, and then send him into the station's main facilities.

Through said scanners and doors, soldiers were already re-entering the hangar and dispensing weapons such as blasters, ceremonial swords, and even a shiv or two into containers that were subsequently marked alphabetically in ranges of five. A-E, F-K, etc. He supervised this for the moments, or even minutes, it took for the political party to enter Void Station before following along himself.

Count Morcus / Irulan Shae / Morna Imura / Anesia Jy'Vun​

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Salem Norongachi, for all his apparent power within the Confederacy was unassuming. A dark suit and equally dark shirt had served him well, from the very top of the Corporate Sector Authority, to the dark citadels of Zoist. First impressions mattered, he had once heard,, but what you chose to hide your flesh paled in comparison to what you had to say in those first meetings.

This would be his first diplomatic function since Drunkenwell, since he had stepped into the void Verd had left behind. He could see it now; Party frocks, soft music, finger snacks. He wanted to demand the ship be turned around and take him directly to the nearest black hole so he could jump in...but needs, as they were, must and so he remained as the ship approached Void Station.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

A wonder, really.

Various debris, odd shaped chips of asteroids made the trek to the Station more trying since the last time she had visited. Anesia chalked it up to the route being disturbed when the craft banked hard to the right, then the left. She cursed under her breath just as she went to save the ink and quill on its journey to the floor. Notebook sailing across the room only elicited another swear and an exhausted breath from her tastefully painted crimson lips. The color did wonders for her alabaster complexion and dark, wavy hair. Her guffawed expression, not so much.

While she was able to keep herself from toppling over, or even extending any time of lost balance due to years of disciplined practice, the democrat could not say the same for the rest of the dormitory and the things that were not tacked down. Velvety pillows were now strewn across the floor, along side a vase, and what she thought may have been lunch. Thin, learned fingers passively held her utensils for a moment more, taking in the sudden mess. When she decided it was safe, her hands came up and dropped into her lap. Having to conceal her power and signature was trying at best, but it was among the currency that had to be paid.

I'm no maid, the Sith thought absently and smirked at the small fact.

"We're clear to land," the captains voice pitched over the system.

The landing had been a breeze and for once, it had been welcomed. Did she trust it, even in their space? Not a chance.

Standing with a grace only few could imitate, the leggy aristocrat of The Confederacy sauntered from the room; She passed in time with the door sliding open from the swipe of a print-less, deft finger. A slip of just those same things scrawled up her coat, pushing in place the four buttons while her heels announced her presence on deck. That and a tantalizing, sensuous... dark musk seemingly wafted in the air, following the heady woman wherever she went. Her fellow diplomats and staff halted upon her appearance, moving to make a hole.

Only one moved and it was to come to flank her right. "Information on the current occupants, as ordered, Ms. Jy'Vun," Vera chirped, sliding over a larger than normal data-pad. A simple nod was given in response while she turned over the names, accounts, arrangements and anything else that could be of use, stilettos still resounding off the floor. There was no time to look at all the notes so Anesia handed the device back to her secretary. "Remove the device from the network and put it in my quarters," she paused to give a thin smile and proceeded down the ramp, "Thank you, Vera."

Where she had somehow managed to land behind the rest, her assured, confident stride took her past most, placing her not quite at the front of the line. Just behind security, to be exact. "Morna," dulcet tones rang out his name as she passed, while he was busy having his weapon confiscated. She 'tsked' playfully and moved forward. The dark-gray skirt suit tailored to her plentiful curves and the silky v-neck bloused tucked beneath it all added to the allure of polished business professional. Gone was the almost always provocative Sith. Gone was the militant cover.

The orders she awaited this time, this dominion, were only that of when they could enter soundly.

[member="Salem Norongachi"] | [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] | [member="Kal Strife"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Count Morcus"] | [member="Irulan Shae"] ​

 

[Irulan Shae]

By the time the freighter made the final approach to Void Station, the pile of scrip set before the sergeant was almost embarrassing in size, and the look on the young corporal's face was tending toward panic as he contemplated a month without wages. He's going to do something stupid, Irulan mused from where she perched on the edge of a comfortable chair, Any time now. She wasn't wrong - even as the sleek, silvered craft touched down upon the pockmarked surface of the landing pad the boy was in the middle of proposing one last hand, double or nothing.

Idiot.

Fortunately the landing offered him a stay of execution as the sergeant shook his head and began stuffing his winnings into a kitbag. "Another time, boy," he offered, almost warningly, "If you're sure you can afford it." There was an edge to the man's drawl as he spoke the words, a suggestion that the other man might want to rethink his suggestion. Would the corporal pick up on it? Only time would tell, and at the moment time was a luxury they could ill spare.

Smoothly uncrossing her legs, Irulan stood, smoothing down the lines of her long skirt as she did. It, like her blouse, was made of Cyrene silk from distant Naboo, its hue a shade of purple so deep it appeared almost black unless the light caught it just so, at which point it sparkled like starbursts. Heels of a similar shade completed the simple, yet elegant outfit, whilst a narrow band of twined gold and silver coiled about her left wrist and a pendant mounting a corusca gem nestled in the hint of cleavage her blouse displayed. Perfect, she noted with a hint of a smile, glancing at herself in the mirror, before letting her gaze flicker across to the two men once more, Not so perfect.

Why was it that soldiers always looked vaguely uncomfortable in their dress uniforms?

Well, there was nothing to be done about that now; Irulan hadn't even wanted the guards, but Lord Norongachi had spoken, and his word was law nowadays. So, with a last check of her makeup and a slight adjustment to her carefully coiffed hair, she nodded to the two men, asking simply, "Ready?" They were, of course. They'd been impatient for this, in fact, since anything beat being stuck in a dorm for hours on end with little to do but talk or play cards. Thus moments later she was leading the way out through the craft, the two soldiers moving in perfect path just two steps behind her. Beyond the craft, in the landing bay, many of the ambassadors had already assembled, but Irulan swept past them to stand before the group of battle droids that stood ready, their weapons held as nonthreatening as the metal soldiers could manage.

"We bid you greetings from the Confederacy of Independent Systems," she declared, her voice pitched to carry across the cavernous chamber, "Please, take us to Count Morcus and your other leaders."

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek was part of the Confederacy, that was for sure, but he was also part and parcel to the Techno Union. The financial and scientific branch, responsible for finding military contracts, and running the not-always-attached Research and Development arm. For him, diplomacy and business agreements were one and the same. He had flown the Dark Tide out here, to Void Station, when he knew the Confederacy was sending their own delegates.

Their own? That wasn’t quite right. Marek was part of the Confederacy, but he was also showing up separate, to ensure Techno Union third party… stuff.

Right. Landing his ship at Void Station, Marek stepped out, unarmed, into the property of one [member="Count Morcus"]. He’d met with him before, and folding his company into the Techno Union was a smart move. If only for show. Stepping into the hangar deck, and awaiting the rest of the Confederates, he looked around at the security teams.

Joy.

 

[Taa Nul]

A protocol unit stepped forward from behind the battle droids, nodding it's head politely. ''The Count welcomes you to Void Station! I will take you to the meeting room immediately.'', it said politely, beckoning them to follow behind it. They were lead out of the hangar bay into the Count's massive palace, strolling through elegantly decorated corridors and rooms, each filled with various antiques and rare objects on display. The Count evidently had a taste for the expensive and exotic, being extremely wealthy. His support of the CIS and Techno Union would be incredibly beneficial indeed once a deal was finally hammered out.

The group would eventually arrive at a spacious meeting hall, with plates and cutlery set up for their meals during the meeting, fancy music playing in the background. They'd be guided to their individual seats by various servants and protocol droids, and soon, the Count himself would arrive, followed by his two IG-100 Magnaguard protectors who rarely left his side. They both stood to one side of the room while he took his seat. ''Friends! Representatives! I welcome you all to my home! I trust your trips here went without any issue?''

[member="Irulan Shae"]
[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]
[member="Salem Norongachi"]
[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]
[member="Morna Imura"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Garza]

Oh I see now. I could not even wear my Talon rings as they would have been considered a weapon? sure they could possibly scratch people, but not do much more than that. Either way, I took the card and opened the locker that was given to me. As then I heard a sly calling of my name behind me. With a slight smile I only thought about how sometimes, not carrying a weapon made you seem almost reluctant to come. Still I placed the Baster pistol and my rings in the locker, as well as the datapad. I kept my Kolto Cigar and placed it on the ridge of my ear.

However, I also put my lightsaber away. Might as well put it up and not get into trouble for once. Following the others down the halls. Walking into a large room, full of items to have a banquet or even a party was set up. Well more for a party by rich people that didn't care how they spent it all. My entire suit set probably cost less than a fork here. Adjusting my tie once more as I was led to a chair via protocol droid, I sat down n the seat. it was then only about a minute later that Count Morcus entered. Welcoming him to his abode, as well as asking if the trip did not come to the harm of us. I decided not to ask because my rings were taken away from me. I was kind of not in a good attitude about having to remove jewelry that could possibly cause harm to someone.

[member="Count Morcus"], [member="Marek Starchaser"], [member="Irulan Shae"], [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"], [member="Salem Norongachi"], [member="Atretes Rhoujen"],

 

[Irulan Shae]

The luxurious dining suite to which [member="Count Morcus"]'s protocol droid led the group was extravagant in the extreme, suitable for dozens of people rather than the small group which now found themselves being escorted to the empty seats set around the table. One of them, [member="Morna Imura"], took a seat immediately, discarding any fragments of etiquette he might have known. But then, after his frightful faux pas in the hanger bay, Irulan was hardly surprised, and she managed to bite back an irked click of her tongue as she moved past him to the seat that sat just to the left of the head of the table.

Morcus entered as she glanced down at the table setting, noting the finely crafted cutlery that was laid out around the plate. His voice rang out, offering words of greeting and the other traditional pleasantries a gentleman was obliged to offer to guests. Having long served as a diplomat, Irulan paid little heed to the words themselves, but let her thoughts linger on the tone whilst her dark eyes drank in the Count's body language. Was he happy to see them? Wary? Angry? Did he seem nervous, or confident? All of these were important questions, and ones which Irulan considered carefully as she offered the Count a deep curtsey, the slit in her skirt flashing him a glimpse of creaming thigh before she straightened, a bright smile parting her crimson-painted lips. "Thank you for your kind greet, Count Morcus," she offered with a warmth that entirely belied the coolness of her thoughts, "May I compliment you on this suite? The decoration is exquisite. And the music, it's from the Kallea Cycle, is it not? Freia Kallea's aria from the second act?" Such words came easily to Irulan, for they had been the ones she had grown up around.

"I am Irulan Shae, my lord," she continued, touching her chest lightly with one alabaster pale hand as she introduced herself, "Ambassador for the Confederacy of Independent Systems. And these are my colleagues Lady [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"], Morna Imura and [member="Atretes Rhoujen"], of the Obsidian Knights, Foreman [member="Marek Starchaser"] of the Techo Union, and Lord Commander [member="Salem Norongachi"], leader of the Confederacy." Each introduction was accompanied by a polite indication, and pause enough for the individual and the Count to offer some platitude or pleasantry to one another. None of the guards were introduced, of course; in circles such as these guards were little more than furniture, and one would hardly introduce a chair.

 

[Taa Nul]

The Count nodded his head politely to Irulan, a warm welcoming smile on his face. ''A pleasure to make your acquaintance, mi'lady, along with that of the leader of the Confederacy! I must say you look absolutely ravishing ma'am.....and yes, it is from the Kallea Cycle! You definitely know your music. I try my best to make my visitors enjoy their visits here, especially important guests such as yourself! You all honor me with your presence.'', the Count said warmly. ''I'm told you wish to bring Void Station into the Confederate fold? I would welcome such a proposal indeed! It would mean a great deal of new business for my company. Everything you've seen in my palace has been bought through hard work! I had only a modest fortune after my rivals on Serenno ousted me out of jealousy. I've built all of this from near scratch, pretty much...'', he said with a heartful sigh. The man had worked hard for what he had indeed.

''Tell me, Lord Commander! What do you have planned for my station once our deal has been finalized?'', the Count said with great curiosity.

[member="Irulan Shae"]
[member="Morna Imura"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]
[member="Salem Norongachi"]
[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"Two out of three, isn't bad..." Norongachi thought as they stepped into the vast dinning room. The table before them was long and finely decorated, food and drink from what must have been a thousand worlds adorned it, the smells tantalizing his taste buds despite his best efforts. As he was introduced he inclined his head toward the Count and then was directed toward his seat by a servant droid.

He found himself near [member="Morna Imura"], and noted the mans sour expression. It almost mirrored the feelings he was keeping perfectly concealed behind a blank expression. "At least pretend you're happy to be here, there's only enough room for one of us to be annoyed by these proceedings and I outrank you." A half-smile touched his lips and his green eyes tried very hard to project an element of mirth.

It was then that [member="Count Morcus"] addressed him, his gaze shifted to their host. "A long and mutually beneficial partnership of course, Count Morcus. However, unless I find a whiskey in my hand post haste, it could very well darken our relationship." Another smile, perfected in the board rooms of the CSA. He felt like he needed a very long and very hot shower, with the strongest cleaning agent the galaxy had to offer.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

Passing the check-points with cool ease, Anesia feigned the democratic part endlessly. If the droids were people-people that knew her- there may have been a shocked gleam sparkling from their eyes when they found nothing. She smiled brightly, a clash of perfect white teeth against the contrasting red lipstick playing up her mouth. It could have came across as predatory, but ever the same were the beasts of politics. Alas, a vigilant astute mind was all she dutifully carried and a slight sway of hips and long strides that carried her voluptuous frame into the belly of the fortress.

"I see you had no trouble with accommodation, Count, " she said, pointing out the obvious. "On such short notice, even." As one of the first to make her appearance visible, the member of the Confederacy offered her hand to Morcus in kind. Delicate as it may look, warm even to the touch, it held strength that did not quite match the image. The smile was pleasant, just a bare hint of teeth, almost virtuous in appearance. "Thank you for your swift welcome." Deep viridian eyes befell the Magnaguard protectors and without hesitation, she nodded in understanding and more of a simper colored her features.

Rounding the massive oblong table, Anesia found herself peering up at the glossy, illuminated extension of the palace, noting minor details most would not. She also enjoyed the finer things much like their host. So, indeed, there was something common. The dark headed darling found a seat in the middle, so her eyes could watch the movements of oncoming guests and slid into the comfort of the plush seat.

[member="Salem Norongachi"] | [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Count Morcus"] | [member="Irulan Shae"] ​

 

[EmKay]

A quick glance around the banquet hall, accompanied with Rhoujen's ability for ethereal sight, confirmed that there were no obvious traps or ambushes in the grand hall. He'd followed just behind the protocol droids, leading all others. In light of his recent mental assessments and the bad reputation the Confederacy had, he took his job as security very seriously -- even when the apparent owner of the station was, himself, part of the faction. He took a standing position near one of the pillars of the hall and gave everyone a polite bow of greeting, since the only time he had spoken to any of them was to correct Morna's poor conduct. He slipped his pocket secretary out of his coat and looked over the readouts. Reports indicated most, if not all, weapons had been confiscated and put into storage. He gave a faint smile and flipped through different channels, all indicating the same thing. A second alert stated that the military security had successfully integrated themselves onto the list of friendly targets in the droid security manifests. He took a cursory glance at the magnaguard not far from him and frowned. The suspicious side of him watched its movement for a moment, while the world went on around him.

He snapped himself out of it. No need to go into what-if scenarios past what he'd established already. He clicked off his portable device and tucked it away, then watched the goings on with mixed interests of learning and safety.

Count Morcus / Irulan Shae / Morna Imura / Anesia Jy'Vun / [member="Salem Norongachi"] / [member="Marek Starchaser"]​

 

[Garza]

Oh was it that everyone wanted to give me a click of their tongue? Even a woman that I did not know came behind me. Yes I was sour, and somewhat mad but I could get over it. I was a man of action rather than sitting down and drinking tea with a count. While yes the man had been helpful in the battlefield, I was not one to squander my wealth on a station and make remarks about being in the presence of great men. I almost wanted to point him out as a brown noser and an Ass kisser right now, but as the Lord Commander sat next to me and said that he felt the same way, he made a jest about being the only one who should be sour around here. And that his higher rank allowed him to.

I raised both of my hands as though to show I was backing off. Though the gesture was fake and small enough that people who were not really paying attention the conversation I was having would not notice why I was doing as such. "if you call having your fathers ring taken away from you as it is considered a weapon, then yes I would be sour." Reaching forwards I grabbed the napkin on the table and started to open it on my lap of my right leg, "But hey, only one can be agitated around here right?"

I kept my face clean and devoid of emotion as I sat up straight trying to act like a good little Knight.

[member="Salem Norongachi"], [member="Count Morcus"],

 

[Salem Norongachi]

It was a strain, a test of his iron will, not to roll his eyes at the Obsidian Master. If [member="Morna Imura"] had any clue just how uneven the ground was for the CIS, then he would have known that every precaution was taken no matter how small and insignificant it seemed. The biggest clue to this was that Salem Norongachi was sitting on a space station, in a palace, at a dinning table and not back on Bothawui trying to sort out the mess that had come of Druckenwell.

One had to maintain appearances however, and as such the Lord Commander let a neutral smile cross his lips. "Exactly, now have a drink. Talk to some people, we're here to have 'fun', right?"