Don't Stop Believin', Hold onto that Feelin'

[Corey's OOC]

This was just one of those things. Corellia was in shambles, and there were so many people off world, and Marek Starchaser could only hope that more than he figured got off world. It was Corellia, after all, and they were basically attached to their starships. But with the family estate gone, and the rest of the Starchaser clan reaching out to him? It was all he could do.

So that was why he was throwing this bit of a hootenanny.

A bit of a way to unwind for the Corellians. Many made their way away from the homeworld, but they never forgot where their journey began. And that was the purpose of this. Marek Starchaser had dubbed it the first annual Corellian Fundraiser. With the double-whammy of the Omega Protectorate losing control and the splitting of the world, this was the best way he could help out.

He had made it known to his contacts and everyone who was someone in the galaxy to attend. A small cover charge allowed entry to the newly rechristened Soul of Corellia that was not on its way to circle the old system. Table games were going full-speed, with all droid operators and dealers replaced by some of the most attractive Corellian dealers that he could hire.

On top of that, the galaxy's best entertainment was assembled and playing at the various venues throughout the luxury liner. All proceeds from this cruise were going directly into the refugee efforts to assist the Corellians. Sure, they may not think they needed it, but Marek, a Corellian-born was definitely wanting to help his homeworld homies.

The CEO of Bright Star Entertainment was even working the bar at the main establishment which was nostalgically renamed 'Treasure Ship' where a traditional Corellian rock band was playing. Greeting as many of the new arrivals to the fundraiser as he could, the man was working on his bar skills. He could sling a mean drink, but the younger, more appropriately personalities men and women were greeting just as many and putting on a much better show for the arrivals.

The ship was filled with an entertainment line up, including potential guest appearances by some of the galaxy's most famous and infamous beings, all here in a PEACEFUL collective to provide for the relief efforts to the world. Security was on high alert, just in case, but even Marek wasn't too concerned anyone was going to disrupt this party.

Because that's what it was, a party celebrating all Corellia did, was, and will be for the galaxy.

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

A gloved fist connected with her face. Hard.

"Ha! Naut suh tergh nao, are ya boem-shat-bisch!"

Sometimes Corellians were hard to understand.

When they had a broken nose + jaw from when you had punched them...

Well, it didn't exactly make things easier.

Nyx, however, got the gist of what the man said. He was proud that he had managed to finally land a hit on her... after ten minutes. Unknown to him, and, presumably, the crowd, she had actually let him hit her. Why? They were in a shock-boxing match! Shouldn't she be trying to win? Well, usually that would be the case. But this was a charity match to support her adopted home-world: Corellia. People were paying to see this. Some had started to get bored- seeing as she had been dominating the fight. That wasn't exactly surprising. While her opponent was a trained boxer, she was a highly trained soldier, one used to hand-to-hand combat. Real combat. Not this.... this chite. If the whole thing hadn't been for a good cause she would have ended the fight far, far sooner.

Instead she let the people think she was getting tired.

"Oi! Look aht that! Da she-wisch gettin' sleepy! Take 'er down!"

They didn't consider her a home player of any sorts.

So, of course, they wanted her opponent to win. Oh dear... they were in for a big disappointment.

Just not until another five minutes from now, when the match was scheduled to end.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Bright Star Entertainment
Enroute to the Soul of Corellia
Addicted



The beat of the music would resonate within the small personal shuttle that Danger Arceneau sat in. Bright green eyes dilated as they would peer through the wide viewport, the waning sun's rays glinting across her auburn hair, reflecting the mahogany highlights into a rich corseca gem hue.

Only the most critical of eyes would pick up on the signs of weariness upon the woman's face. And even then, one would have to have intimate knowledge of the Trade Queen to pick up the tell tale nuances upon her face.

Danger had a name that would set her tone; one never knew exactly what to expect. She could be both a thermal detonator ready to explode or the fire that would flare and warm through a sultry Tatooine night.

Few would ever imagine that the woman in charge of the Galactic Trade conglomerate came from humble beginnings. But it was there in the hint of low born dialect; that gutter trash sharp gleam to the eye. Her smoky honeyed rasp and her beckoning smile had ways of coaxing a pause and giving a path to be the negotiator. The one neutral enough to attempt to be a bridge. That bridge for the past month was between the One Sith, Titan Industries, and Corellia in it of itself.

For her efforts, she was now sporting a new scar under her left breast; a small blaster bolt that managed to pierce right through front to back. It was still healing, but Danger had been more focused on the aftermath. Sheer intestinal fortitude saw her through the next seventy-two hours. The report that followed from the Darkwater representatives only served to steel her nerves. She wasn't going to run away.

It wasn't like her to.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

On Board a Shuttle Enroute

Alric Kuhn stood tall and handsome as ever.

There were slight lines on his face from stress and tiny tints of blue beneath his eyes from lack of sleep. Though he had abandoned Danger on that first day of recovery, gone to have his own fun with his now fiance, Alric had since then returned. The stress of aiding in recovery, the intricate plans, the numbers involved, the sheer amount of work that went into it from all the corporations involved was absolutely ludicrous.

In truth he had not slept in nearly three days, at least not for more than an hour or so at a time. Something would always wake him, something would always come up that dragged him out of his rest. It was always something, and not always Corellia. Since the incident Titan was expanding at an exponential rate. It had dropped many of its worlds of operation, including Alderaan, but since then it had nearly doubled its holdings. Moving to systems outside control of any faction.

With that expansion, came stress.

There was only one thing that relieved that stress, only one thing that kept him sane an allowed him a measure of peace. [member="Silara"] stood beside him. Tall, beautiful, and the woman of his dreams. He looked down at her, smiling like a small child who had a crush on a girl. He couldn't help but reach out and touch her, letting his hand fall onto the flat of her back, stroking with his thumb ever so slightly.

He smiled at her, still giddy like a child, excited even after a few days had passed.

She had called him an idiot, but in the end she had said yes with no hesitation. He smiled as he remembered what was only days passed, grinning like the fool that he had been. Leaning down he kissed her head.

“I'm glad you're here.” His voice was smooth honey, a sign of his genuine affection.

The two of them didn't often get to spend time together, and hardly at public affairs. Any time they had together was to be enjoyed. Even if that enjoyment was clouded by a feeling of sluggishness on his part.

Work took its toll, always did.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Location: Aboard luxury yacht, The Sovereign Butterfly

Tmoxin Temi, Red Raven Sergeant at Arms, enjoyed going to a fund-raiser every now and then. It allowed the officer to be able to put her years of Hapan etiquette classes to good use.

This one in particular was a Corellian relief effort to house refugees from the missing persons crisis which had plagued the galaxy recently and it sounded like as good of a cause as any. If anything giving to charity, assuaged her guilt at having ended up in a criminal network rather than in politics or a diplomat back on Hapes which is where her wealthy family had always wanted her to be.

But mostly Tmoxin was there to make sure the new Raven politician [member="Pyxis Salm"] didn't get into too much trouble. The party-loving Zeltron would probably indulge in his share of flirtation and excess and that was perfectly fine, but she couldn't have him getting killed. Not when there were so many deals to be made in the hallowed halls of interplanetary embassies. Salm was also scheduled to perform tonight and having boasted of his prowess as a singer to many of the Ravens, the Hapan female was a little curious to see if he was truly talented or if it was all a bluff.

Her yacht Captain transmitted a message to the Soul of Corellia, "This is The Sovereign Butterfly requesting permission to board."

[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Malok]

Marek Starchaser.

In a time long since past, Darth Metus had trained this young man at his very own estate. He showed him the "fine art" of curving bullets; and surprisingly, the Corellian grew on him. They didn't have a tremendous camaraderie, nor did they have much contact following the training. However, when the Sith caught wind that Starchaser's home had been destroyed, that single encounter was enough to arouse a response. It didn't take much digging to find out that there was a fundraising shin-dig hosted by the Corellian.

But Darth Metus wasn't exactly the part type.

Instead, he transferred a sizeable heap of credits to the fundraiser directly. Alongside this multi-million donation was a small "note" which read:

[member="Marek Starchaser"],

I cannot imagine what you are going through right now, but it is my hope that I can help your efforts; even just a small bit. You are in my thoughts. You have my support. Stay strong and aim true.

-IV

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Bright Star Entertainment
The Soul of Corellia
Addicted

The lights are on,
But you're not home.
Your mind is not your own...


So here she was, on the approach of the Soul of Corellia. Starchaser, being Corellian born and bred had been expected to take personal part in this. As would she. Presence is what will ensure that things would go as smooth as possible; even though she was well aware that the Corellian Underground Rebellion was slowly turning its cogs. Right now, the focus was on the refugees -- but there were some who would certainly strike in their suffering and in the wake of losing not only family, but in the shattering of their world.

There was just far too many things to consider. Too much to do. Far too many people to still meet. A slight frown would mar her brow. It had been a month since she first came to Corellia to speak to Heinrich Stein. One month.

Far too many things had happened since then.

Maybe that is why she was throwing herself at full force to the reconstruction and relief efforts of Corellia. It was the only way to keep her mind busy. Coming to a stop would only make her mull over facets of her life she was still coming to terms with.

Unfortunately for her, time stops at certain moments in life, taking snapshots of the best and worse. Dreams and wishes fade to nothing. In the end a life is totaled and defined by a handful of memories that hang in the mind.

A sigh would flow from her lips, that soft exhale that would lift and then slowly dip her bare shoulders. Her hands would lift to gently smooth the line of her black dress, Lids fell, feeling the soft texture of the fabric under the pads of her fingers.

A thought came to mind. Along with it the stab of prickling uneasiness.

Daddy...

Would you be proud?

 

[Pyxis Salm]

Pyxis, as usual, was at the party. After all, he was a Zeltron, and a fundraising party like this was where he lived. Some had theorized that the Zeltrons lived off of the party atmosphere and that a Zeltron would die if he or she stayed away from parties for too long. Of course, he was here for another reason. Not only was he a politician, but he was a singer too. A damn good singer at that. His soul and R&B tracks with his old group "Psalm and the Saviors" had sold over 10 trillion copies galaxy-wide. His solo career had been successful, but not nearly as much as when he was backed by the Saviors. Now, with some convincing and some bribing, he had the Psalm and the Saviors back together. This gig wouldn't be their largest or most important, but the party atmosphere was still pretty good. Of course, their songs weren't exactly the most suited for parties, being mostly soul and blues, but they did serve as a reminder as to why people were here: to help Corellia.

He had written several songs for the occasion, including "I Left my Heart in Coronet", "I'd Trade My Soul", and "Stranded at the Pad". Of course, he would also perform some of his best-selling hits, such as "Red Skin, Blue Heart", "Lean on Me", "Percussive Affection", and "She Ain't No Twi'lek". His repertoire would take up a good chunk of time. This would leave him time to mingle and hopefully bring a woman back to his hotel. Very few could resist the combination of a best-selling soul singer, an important politician, and a Zeltron.

He was mingling right now, of course. He had a little bit of time to hang with the crowd before he had to warm up with the rest of the group. He was treading a fine line here; the group had split up the first time because of his incessant attempts (and successes) at seducing women over the welfare of the group. Still, it was worth a shot to chat up some of the women here before warming up backstage. He didn't need as much warming up as the rest of the group as he had done a little of it on the trip over. However, he did have to hit that note in "Percussive Affection" that had taken him almost a week and a half to hit for the first time. It would be best to try to warm up soon, but for now he would emit some pheromones and look for women to chat up.

 

[Corey's OOC]

Sometimes it was just what needed to be done, the slinging of drinks. And yeah, he was running the show here, even if Ryan was aboard the vessel somewhere, handling the ins-and-outs. The main reason that Marek had the earworm, compliments of SpyNet (Please contact SpyNet for all your infiltration and observation needs) in and listening to the broadcasts. If there were certain ships that he remembered to not invite here because their crews were a bit too... dangerous, he'd have Ryan turn them away. This was a celebration, of sorts, a reception for the memory of Corellia and the future of the Corellian people.

He knew because of the announcement that one [member="Danger Arceneau"] was now in house, and that made him feel worlds better. Knowing that the Trade Queen was coming out to his little shindig was definitely important. With her contacts that were beyond those that Marek made, it meant the event just gained a bit more prestige. He spoke while he was checking the cocktail waitress's orders to Ryan to send her to the bar he was working. He'd start to mingle with the gathered soon, but right now, he wanted to make sure that people were seeing everyone was pulling their weight for the event.

He even made to hire out to some of CorSec, those who wanted to donate their time instead of enjoy the amenities to working security. With the addendum that they put their prejudices aside for the event.

And listening to the band play, heavy on percussion and string instruments, was setting the atmosphere of this one bar on the larger vessel. It wasn't like they were going to have an opera, but they did have a lot of solid performers lined up and he was going to have to get out there soon and tour around. He just wished he was able to use his telekinesis to the fullest, he could really put a show on for the gathered at this bar.


Meanwhile, Ryan Farnes was working the door at the main landing hangar and sending out landing codes. He'd be here for the next few hours and greet everyone who came in for landing, and made sure that their ships were handled, brought by valets to other docking arrangements aboard the ship. When the call from the Soverign Butterfly came in he quickly checked its history and allowed it to land. “Welcome to the party, Butterfly, you're welcome to land in Hangar Alpha to unload your passengers. Do you have any acts, performers, or non-monetary donations to claim?” This was how it was since he got here.

He was making sure that everyone here was passing through the ship's customs with the CorSec officers and back up Hegemonic Automaton droids. Sales were going on with all the shops aboard, and he was logging and sending a guest list of the up-and-ups to Marek's personal datapad.

Simple work for a wonderful cause.


Looking at the time, Marek nodded to himself and started to clean up his station. A few of the more attractive, and younger staff from some of the best bars on Corellia were arriving. He wanted them to get to work, they were going to make things feel a bit more like home. Passing by a youthful blonde, he smiled at her and gave her a wink as she took over his station.

That was when the message from [member="Darth Metus"] showed up. That was unexpected. Opening up the message, Marek couldn't help but smile. So, Verd was back in the galaxy. He was going to need to meet up with him shortly.

“Metus,

Thank you so much for the donation, its going to a wonderful cause. We need to run into one another soon. Will you be attending?”

-Starchaser.”

And with that out of the way, now where was he going? First, he was going to get some Whyren's, on the rocks, of course. Smiling at the bartender and giving her a decent sized tip, it was his ship after all, he decided it was time to mingle.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

The Captain of The Sovereign Butterfly replied, "No entertainers on the ship. Only Ms. Temi who will be donating to your organization, sir."

The Butterfly docked at Hangar Alpha as instructed. As Tmoxin got ready for the night she ordered her Hapan Captain to chill some champagne just in case she had guests on board later. She inspected what she had for h'orderves in the ship's fridge and her stomach turned as she realized she somehow had ended up with some of Admiral Aquer's crab-puffs. She quickly hid those foul things away in the back and pulled out a tray of cheese and Reythan crackers.

Finally she was ready to enter the Soul of Correlia. She wore a short corset dress in beige with gold heels:

Spoiler

Tmoxin really wanted to play some Sabacc, but thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to first check in on [member="Pyxis Salm"], one of the newer members of The Red Ravens.

[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Jsc]

Aboard the Soul of Corellia
Nursing Vodka

Corellia had been home for years. No. Corellia was still home. He just hadn't let go yet. Maybe that was why he was here and she was not. Grant Pherson, a former Jedi Knight recently turned Force Dead whatever, had every reason to be here. Even if was just to remember home one more time.

"...Sir?"

"Huh? ...Oh. Yeah. I'll take one card. Sorry. Thanks."

The tall human male sat at a card table gambling away his lunch money. Black tux, no tie. He wasn't poor by any means but his personal fortune couldn't compete with 90% of the patrons gathered aboard today this ship today. He owned three starships, one bar, a classic collection of firearms, and land on at least four planets. Yet tonight he felt like a pauper. It was the atmosphere he'd been trying to avoid since he'd heard the news. Corellia split in two. Darn. That was rough man. Yet? It was still nice to be here though. Forgot about what was happening out there. What she had described to him. That 'other' world beyond the rifts. The presence beyond the void.

That wasn't his fight though. He was here to be a normal joe. Gamble, get drunk, make a few mistakes. Just like being a kid again. Anything to escape the chaos that was splitting his home in two. His whole world upside down. Not to mention The Wounding. Ugh. He needed another drink already. Been nursing the same Vodka Soda for an hour now. Like a girl at the Prom. Bleh,

"...The house as three. Ah! Congratulations sir. Your hand wins. Would you like to play again?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. That's fine."

"Table starts at two thousand."

"Alright. Let's go again. Corellian luck, right?"

"Of course sir."

He nodded and lamented the phrase already. Guess it didn't quite have the same ring to it anymore.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Bright Star Entertainment
The Soul of Corellia
Addicted

​

You can't sleep, you can't eat,
There's no doubt you're in deep.


"Ma'am."

The soft call from Aeri Vyn, her Zeltron assistant would come from the right, prompting the draw from her reverie. Danger would glance up, a faint smile registering over her lips.

"Yes?" she would query, blinking a bit as she would focus her attention upon the woman. Aeri is a companion, much like Alisha'ven had been in the past. Yet where Alisha'ven is her right hand woman and her voice, Aeri was Danger's personal assistant. With how crazy her schedule and the pressing needs of Corellia and the humanitarian aide effort, Danger knew she was stretching herself thin.

Had it not been for Aeri as much as Alisha'ven and Six, Danger had no idea how she would still be functioning. Then again, she was already pushing herself to her limits. She was here after all, after an attempt on her life. Then again, to be fair, Danger wasn't one to walk away from a fight.

"We are docking onto the the Soul of Corellia, " Aeri began to tell her, her bright blue eyes and spiky hair framing her pixie like face.

"Thank you," Danger would tell her, rising up to her feet in a swath of black fabric.

"Mistah Starchaser is requesting your presence. He wishes to personally greet you." Aeri would continue to inform her, moving around Danger to smooth the line of her dress and give her last minute touch ups.

"So far we have the interm Corellian Senator.." Aeri's voice would fade into the background as Danger stood still, her attention drawing back to her reflection upon the polished glasteel viewport.

She was a sight to behold, she knew this well. She had always been a fast girl. Now, from the looks of her, she traveled at the speed of light. Her hair was set in loose crimson waves, her eyes lined with kohl, and her lips a bright cherry red. Thirty-nine was getting on up there for a woman by the galaxy's standards, but while Danger had hardened during the past ten years to make Arceneau what it is, she had not aged. Some would say that the ice in her veins had preserved her.

Truth be told, she was starting to wonder if they were right.

All dolled up and no one to show off to. The slight bit of irony at that would prompt her lips to twist into thin smile. For a woman who had everything, it was a sobering realization that she really didn't.

Not what truly mattered.

 

[Hailyn]

With Alric

It wasn't every day, oddly enough, that the blind red-head was able to spend a day off of either work or official duties with her fiance, [member="Alric Kuhn"]. It was certainly not a normal occurrence that she was brought to charity events - events normally held for the sorts of acts of destruction and violence that the One Sith, and herself, generally caused or performed. Their entire relationship had been rocky from the start, founded on unethical 'business' practices on Coruscant, leading to a highly private affair that continued until they became an item - though still kept out of the public eye. Although trauma over Kashyyk had caused her to realize she'd cared for Alric much more than she let on, he'd refrained from doing so until several days ago - wherein he asked her to marry him. She would have settled for an 'I love you' and flowers, even just a card, but apparently when the Tetan was finally eased back into his comfort zone he certainly tried to rope in what he wanted. So when the much taller man at her side - or was she at his? - kissed her head, she blushed heavily following his words. Silently happy she let her head tilt to the side and come to rest firmly on the man's shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as she envisioned what their evening away would be like. It was a charity gala for the Corellian people following the complete destruction of their namesake world and the death of millions upon billions, part of her was curious if Jedi would come to at least offer condolences to the innocents that died with the planet, and while she was not capable of true sight, she would certainly be looking forwards to a makeshift variation with the force. It was a strange change of pace for her, not quite used to being anywhere near as wealthy as her fiance, Alric, was, but while the thought of the riches he held were entirely absent from her mind the anxiety of how she looked, acted, and so on kept her on edge. "I'm happy to be with you." Silara said back, her voice just as soft and quiet as it had been when they first met.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He couldn't refrain from running his hands through her hair.

It was red now, an auburn that reminded him very much of autumn back on Empress Teta. His fingers gently wrapped around slightly curled hair, stroking for only a moment before a small crackle erupted in his ears. He frowned slightly, then leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Maybe if we turn around now no one will notice were not here.”

He looked around, a silliness playing through him.

“Look there's a closet!” An excitement entered his whisper. “We can hide in there and keep ourselves occupied.”

One of his hands slipped to her rear end, giving it just the tiniest squeeze to grant meaning to his words. A smirk crossed his face after, but he knew they couldn't do it. Alric Kuhn was expected to make an appearance, and at his side would be his future wife. That was written in stone for tonight.

It wasn't something that could be changed at this point. Several key people knew that the CEO of Titan would be making a large donation, a donation that had to be made in person. They were already helping with the rebuilding effort, already spent countless millions on reconstituting the Shipyards, but this would be a large PR move, a way to show that Titan Industries cared.

Before she could say anything Alric kissed her forehead again. "No. I know we can't."

He shook his head for only a moment, nuzzling her slightly before raising himself up again.

Then, despite his lethargy, despite his aching want to be alone with [member="Silara"], despite everything that was going on in the galaxy, Alric Kuhn began to lead his lovely fiance down the ramp of his ship.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Tmoxin looked around for [member="Pyxis Salm"] but couldn't see him in the crowd, not even a glimpse of that vibrant pink skin. Her patience wearing thin for anything that seemed remotely like hard work, she decided to ditch the attempt to keep an eye on the Zeltron soul singer-turned politician. He doesn't need a babysitter and I loathe little children, thought the Hapan officer. Now off to gamble!

She found the table games and sat next to a human close to her age or perhaps a little older. He was drinking a clear liquid which looked highly alcoholic. She called over the nearest serving droid and said, "I'll have whatever he's having and make it a double. With a lime."

She turned to the man and asked "Is this a Sabacc table? Do you mind if I join you?"

[member="Grant Pherson"]

 

[Jsc]

The male raised an eyebrow in surpise before relenting. He turned to the droid and raised his glass before looking back to [member="Tmoxin Temi"],

"Vodka Tonic. ...And yes. Feel free."

The table offered a variation of Sabacc and could accommodate multiple players. The dealer was a beautiful doll of passing description. She smiled pleasantly and seemed comfortable speaking in a professional tone. Classy without really possessing a real personality. Just the way Grant liked em. But then? He hated chatty hair-dressers too for the same reason. Pherson wasn't much of a talker.

He looked again at Temi. From her heels to her head. She was too sexy and relaxed for him to say anything though. It was more polite that way. She probably just wanted to play cards. He nodded and returned to the cards in his hand.

She did pick a lime though. In his book, that was in excellent taste.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

"Thanks," she said. "The last time I played Sabaac was in the Golden Nautolan on Nar Shaddaa. I mean... I was there on a trip... a bachelorette party," she quickly added.

Mother of Kwath, she thought! Why couldn't you have lied said you were gambling on Coruscant or even Zeltros, Tmoxin. If it's anything Nar Shadda advertised was LOOK AT ME I'M A BLEEDING CRIMINAL! For all she knew this man was a Republican peacekeeper or with some other type of intelligence unit. But it was all too easy, in the familiar environment of an aristocratic gathering like this, for Temi to forget she was essentially a racketeer. A wealthy racketeer but still. She needed to be more careful.

She signaled the dealer for two cards and put her intro bet on the table. "I'm Tmoxin Temi," she said. "And how are you connected to the Corellian cause?" the Hapan asked.

[member="Grant Pherson"]

 

[Jsc]

Grant looked at Tomi a bit bewildered at first. Well. Pretty girls don't talk to Grant Pherson. Sure, maybe a stray Twi'lek or a sultry Zelotian might try? But most people immediately understand that this bearded human had nothing to offer. Even in a tux, he was a boring as they come. Maybe that was the safety in it. Maybe he was just drunk.

Meh. He shrugged to himself. He over analyzed everything when there was a drink in his hand. Maybe he really was Corellian after all.

"Grant." He smiled honestly, "Grant Pherson. I used to have a home on Corellia. Ten years. Well... More really. Heh."

He let that sting. Let the flavor savor. Everybody here? Nah. We've all lost something.

He folded his cards with a nod to the dealer. Looking back again to Tomi with a somber, polite smile. Unsure if this Poker Face was wearing him tonight or if it was the other way around.

"I uh. I just came to remember it all. For a friend."

His gaze returned to the table. Thinking. Musing. Smiling a painted smile. By the Gods she was pretty. Well. Everybody here tonight was so darn pretty. Maybe he was in the wrong place, after all. ...Maybe not.

[member="Tmoxin Temi"]​

 

[Pyxis Salm]

Pyxis scanned the crowd briefly as he chatted up some girl from Coruscant. He'd forget her name the next morning, but it was her body that he would remember. Well, maybe for a day or two. Still, the woman's curves were quite voluptuous and pleasing. Not as much as some of the women here, but some of them scared him a little. If he said the wrong thing or got too aggressive with his pheromones, he would be dead before he even blinked.

He checked around, looking to evade [member="Tmoxin Temi"] . He knew she was at the party too, and knowing her she was probably looking for him. She seemed to have this crazy notion that he couldn't be left alone or the whole galaxy would come tumbling down. It wasn't like he was going to hit on every woman he saw. Just most of them. Enough to keep his success rate high enough.

He checked the time and reluctantly slipped the girl his hotel room number before slipping into the backstage and warming up. He had to please an important crowd, although it wasn't his biggest. Part of his job as a diplomat and senator was to be a crowd-pleaser and to put people at ease. The Saviors looked at him briefly as he entered the room and started his warm up. He stretched and compressed his vocal chords and wiggled around with notes, trying to make sure everything was in working order. He only had a few more minutes to prepare, so it was absolutely necessary to warm up as fast as possible.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Bright Star Entertainment
The Soul of Corellia
Hanger Aurek
Addicted

You see the signs,​

But you can't read.​

You're running at...​

a different speed.​

The shuttle would come to a slow stop within the Soul of Corellia's hanger. A sweep of her skirts would bring the hour-shaped figure of the Trade Queen from the corridor towards the ramp.

"Mistah Starchaser is not far off, Miz. Arceneau," Aeri would tell her, walking alongside Danger with a small datapad in hand, relaying updates as well as the rest of the list of invitees for the gala fundraiser.

"The Duchess of Gala will be in attendance, the head of the Banking Clan, " more names would come rolling out to catch within the shell of her ear.

"-- Stein, of Titan Industries..." that name caught her attention right quick. Her feline gaze would shift to her Zeltron assistant, a single flick of her attention prompting Aeri to give a questioning pause.

Danger gave a small nod in response, the pair of rainbow gem earrings glistening with kaleidoscopic hues under the rays of the overhead lights.

Alric was here?

A frown drew over her brow, disembarking the shuttle.

He never made public appearances. Ever. Not as the CEO of Titan Industries. Kuhn Consolidated yes. Titan? No.

That had been a rule. An unbroken rule.

Until today. There it came again. That sinking sensation of forbearing in the pit of her stomach. She felt sick. No, it had to be superbacta running through her veins.

That had to be it. However, she couldn't help but wonder.

What in the blazes are you doing?