Fruit of Your Labor [Iron Empire Dominion of the Redoubt Cluster]

[Zeradias Mant]

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R E D O U B T​

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"Within this group of stars lies the last refuge of the Chiss people should our forces ever be overwhelmed in battle. It is impregnable, impossible for even a determined enemy to quickly or easily penetrate, with war vessels and firepoints scattered throughout. There are also other surprises that nature itself has created for the unwary." ― Aristocra Formbi

Despite the unity between the Crown and the Chiss Ascendancy, there have been conflict between the two and the Chiss insurrection. With the threats now quelled, the Iron Empire can take more productive steps to expand it's influence and welcome other systems into the fold in the interest of mutual prosperity. Enter the Redoubt, the last stronghold of the Chiss Ascendancy at it's peak. As a show of great trust, friendship, and a strong bond between the the Iron Imperials and Chiss people, the Aristocra of the Chiss Ascendancy have opened the doors of the Redoubt to the Iron Empire.

To celebrate the unity of the Chiss people and the resolve between the present Ascendancy and the Iron Empire, a joint commission of Iron Imperial officials and Chiss nobility have hosted a grand fête in recognition of all those who have worked to achieve peace and cooperation has been scheduled in the Korpa Conference Hall. It is said that the emperor is to make an appearance, and several important announcements are to be made regarding the future of the Empire, as well as concerning certain individuals and their remarkable feats.

This event is formal banquet open to the public of the Iron Empire and friends of the Crown. Be on your best behaviour, but most importantly, have fun! This event is being held for those who've worked diligently to help shape the Iron Empire into what it is today. No crime goes unpunished, and no good deed goes unrewarded, and there's a lot of rewards to be had.

[member=Acanthus] | [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] | [member="Atheus Voidwalker"] | [member="Aurren Ulgo"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Douglas Reed"] | [member="Corran Cath"] | [member="Ebaron Spyre"] | @Erik Jarnbjorn | [member="Estro Sabrino"] | @FN-1313 | [member="Isaac Knight"] | [member=Hadir] | [member="Isamu Baelor"] | [member="Kiran Arlos"] | [member="Kirk Skobra"] | [member=Kizuato] | [member="Krayzen Dratos"] | [member="Kyla Foy"] | [member="Lyle Baelor"] | [member="Makai Dashiell"] | [member="Nolan Detta"] | [member="Ordan Vosk"] | [member="Rhan Elysar"] | [member="Suro'kalist Csapla"] | [member="Savitor Draay"] | [member="Talos Rygat"] | [member="Thaddeus Braken"] | [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] | [member="Trin Halleck"] | [member="Valae Kitra"] | [member="Velith Jax"] | [member="Victor Bluarc"] | [member="Ylva Solveig"]​

 

[Caelag Vass]

• Wearing: Military Dress uniform, Purple cloak w/hood (down), Ornate eye-crown
• Post 1

Always a gala. After every military engagement, Caelag Vass found herself drawn to some formal social event, a gala, a feast, something beyond her comprehension. This, this wasn't exactly where she belonged, drinking fancy drinks and socializing with the elite of the elite. She was a soldier's adopted child from a poor orphanage, she was a soldier. She ought to be out doing something useful, patrol, reconnaissance, a mission, anything of her actual military duties would suffice! She couldn't see how this was a proper use of her time, yet she had not only been invited but told she was expected to show. Perhaps her new rank had something to do with this, perhaps not.

In either case, the brunette tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, wishing she could somehow blend into the group of officers more. Part of her success had included being made a new eye-piece to cover the vestigial sockets, her beautifully ornate crown. It worked well to cover her eyes while maintaining a level of respectability her bandaging hadn't, and her fingers always found the detailing remarkable, but it made her stand out among the human and near human officers. She assumed many of those around her were human, naturally, as in her experience it seemed to be the case (that or Chiss), but Caelag stood out even more for another reason. Admittedly this one was her own fault, but it was a reason none the less.

Part of her uniform was, well, added to. A purple cloth cloak, fastened around her neck, hung over her as she stood with the others, waiting to be allowed inside for, well whatever this was to be, and was very clearly not standard uniform procedures. As part of her culture, Caelag often made a point to add this cloth to her uniforms, and had made special requests to do so with her dress uniform. They had allowed it as long as her rank insignia was visible at all times, and it not be worn in such a way as to hint at a hidden weapon of some sort. So now it hung rather openly, letting her rank be visible on the uniform.

High Colonel, something that should garner much respect perhaps. For Caelag, it only offered her questions. If she was so valuable, why was it she could almost always feel a pair of eyes burning into her back? Was it someone envious of her rather swift ascension? Someone who hated Miraluka? Something else entirely, perhaps even paranoia? Perhaps it didn't matter to her. No matter what the answer, it offered one solution, to prove she earned it. To prove she was valuable to the Empire, despite what anyone may think of her kind. To that end she had been working tirelessly, perhaps more than was healthy, to demonstrate her use.

And now she waited, for someone to either come her way, or to sense someone with whom she would be willing to seek out conversation.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

[ Post 1 ]

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​

Makai thought he had escaped this type of life. Galas, charity auctions, balls, Southern Systems Bazaars, the list could be endless. He had countless memories of getting into trouble at these things with [member="Myra Elspeth"] ,growing bored with the two of them poking around for something to do. As he grew older there had been opportunities to mingle, such as the mining contract he had successfully negotiated with the Royal House of Alderaan and [member="Faith Organa"] . Apparently no matter what walk of life one was from one couldn't escape a formal event or two.


Scale-speckled hand came and brushed a piece of lint off his shoulder. The dark military dress uniform seemed to be attracting more lint by the second. Hopefully the night would kick off soon. Not that anyone would be paying attention to him at this type of event. Dashiell wasn't a household name in these parts. There was nothing to negotiate. No politician to meet about hyperlanes and salvage rights.


Being a low-ranking Iron Empire pilot he could fly under the radar and enjoy himself. Maybe they'd have something decent to eat floating around on trays.

 

[Zeradias Mant]

The Iron Empire had a long and colorful past. Zeradias had been there since it's inception. He saw what the One Sith thought of those who thought to escape before it imploded. While those parting ways with what was at one point the most powerful faction in the galaxy were more concerned with preserving their lives, the One Sith were concerned with ending them. Isamu Baelor, the One Sith's former military executor, led an exodus of civilians and ex-military personnel alike to the Unknown Regions, escaping the clutches of the hostilities and dwindling juggernaut. Met with resistance at every turn, the Iron Empire had gone from fledgling flotilla to the premier powerhouse of the Unknown Regions.

While each tale marks it's heroes as the leaders in the conflicts, they all to often neglect to appreciate the magnitude and sacrifice of the general host. All denizens of the Iron Empire, military or civilian, have made some sort of impact on the nation that made it what it was today. This event on the Chiss Redoubt, would pay tribute to and recognize some of these heroes in their own right.

Whenever Zera wore his dress uniform, his posture magically improved. The Iron Empire's military garbs traditionally weren't flashy, but Zeradias found a way to make it work. The way the gray melded with the navy blue of the naval uniform, augmented with tungsten-colored accessories were enough to draw notice to anyone who wore the uniform. The badge of the office of the Chief of Naval Operations and the rank insignia of Grand Admiral only compounded the attractiveness of the uniform. While most of his rank boasted chestfuls full of color, he wore noticeably less. Though he sported some awards from the Mandalorian Protectors, the Iron Empire was still too young to have achieved anything of worth.

He looked out as the crowd progressively increased in size. Good. There was much to recognize, and much to accomplish. He'd give it some time before kicking off the events of the evening, but for now, it was time to enjoy the open bar.

[member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Makai Dashiell"]​

 

[Zak Amroth]

"Rain and wind buffeted the transport in the upper atmosphere, clouding the visibility of the Chiss world below from my viewport seat. It was supposed to be a simple courier job, Csillans in high places wanted some sensitive data crystals delivered personally to a contact in the Redoubt Cluster, and they wanted someone who wouldn't draw the wrong kind of attention but knew how to handle himself. Enter Myk..."​

Mykas Venture Memlogs, 851 ABY​

​

Another gala.

Technically it was the first formal event of any kind he'd been to since his activation, but the infamous Corellian detective the droid's neural net was modeled off of had attended many throughout his lifespan, and Myk had access to those memories. Like everything else from that other life, the life that was not actually his, it was much more impressionistic than anything he had truly experienced, as the HRD's simulated cognition did its best to process emotional context its software was not entirely equipped to translate. Still, Venture got enough of an idea to believe he was bound to enjoy them even less than his organic predecessor.

The data crystals in his charge felt weighty in his formal suit's pocket, the Czerka Adjudicator concealed in a thigh holster even more so. The planetary authorities didn't look too fondly on civilians openly carrying, so the private detective had made a show about checking his DL-18 at the spaceport. There had been scanners at the gala itself, but there were ways of spoofing those and too much felt off about this job for Myk to feel comfortable walking in to any kind of meet without any protection.

Since the exchange itself wasn't scheduled to go down for a while yet, he did his best to blend in and act like he belonged there. Just another tourist from the Empire, one of the few refugees with enough financial means or political connections to be able to make a trip out of seeing such an historic occasion. He wanted to light up a cigarra, not out of any biologic compulsion but because it had been so habitual in the original version that the instinct was in a sense hardwired into his personality matrix, but ignorant of the local ordinances decided ordering several potent mixed drinks would be an acceptable compromise.

Surrounded as he was by military officers, enlisted personnel, and blue skinned natives, he was going to need them.

[member="Zeradias Mant"] | [member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Makai Dashiell"]​

 

[Ylva Heavenshield]

To say that this was her kind of affair would be to lie in the most blatant regard.

With those of the Iron Empire, Ylva Solveig had been thrown an invitation in which the few friends she had made within the Iron Legion had suggested she couldn't ignore; not at least were she to represent the Valkyri of Olstyn and the new Alliance between they and this body of Power that [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] had unintentionally dragged her into; Although...-It wasn't so much that he dragged her into the Empire than rather he dragged her out of the burning decrepit vessel in the midst of their battle against the insurrectionists...

At first her decision was made out of having nothing better to do, the pair of them having crashed into one another and the clumsy oaf having ruined her hunt upon Nirauan had somehow become her saving grace upon Roxuli, an act of which she had taken it upon herself to repay, choosing then to support the ones that he did upon his world that this Empire promoted strength for the surrounding worlds who couldn't do without it. Typically, sympathy wasn't among her most obvious of character traits and yet somehow, even [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] had acquired her rather unorthodox way of support, her means of trying to protect the Princess while simultaneously yell at her for being high born...-Still, it was a partnership they were forced into and for better or worse, whether the Princess wanted it or not, were it in her power Ylva would stand guard over her in battle were that the case. It was a contradiction of all that she had lived by before.

Frankly this was no place for a Woman of her make, she whom roamed among far more "upper class folk" wearing the skins of Animals that they would probably have paid to be skinned and brought to them on a platter as opposed to taking the trophy by way of their own hands. Théo wasn't to join her this evening, his duties carrying him elsewhere and thus leaving her on her own to find some way of not cringing at the pretentiousness of these people, all dressed in silks and jewels the price of their slaves wages; The waiters, to her mind were all still in captivity here, only sugar-coated with the prospect of a working man's world...-Idiocy.

"Where's the bloody mead"

She exclaimed to herself as she wandered her way through the crowd looking for the first flagon of ale that didn't look like strawberry piss at the price of an arm and a leg.

[member="Zeradias Mant"] | [member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Myk Venture"]

 

[Caelag Vass]

• Wearing: Military Dress uniform, Purple cloak w/hood (down), Ornate eye-crown
• Post 1

Caelag's head turned when she heard the voice of [member="Ylva Solveig"], and shook it gently as she sighed. So much for a look of total professionalism, still she didn't look to be clothed in the same manner as other Imperials, so perhaps it was less a black mark and more of a grey, much like the rest of the world. Still, she didn't wish to hear another loud exclamation from the woman, and so she took it upon herself to tend to the problem. She made her way past others, to the open bar, and managed to procure a glass of the mead this woman so desired (apparently they had recently acquired some in the desire to appeal to Iron Empire tastes, amusingly enough). Why the woman had been so busy looking over the trays of wine being served and not the open bar itself would remain a mystery for another day. For now, Caelag was only too happy to take a glass of mead, and make her way back through the crowd to the newer woman in the IE ranks. When she did arrive, she extended the glass to her, regretting that she couldn't give her a disapproving look without eyes. "Take it."

She was aware of others of course, in the area that was. @Zeridas Mant, a man to whom she held proper respect, primarily for his position as she did not know him personally... [member="Makai Dashiell"] who she was completely unaware of in both rank and identity... [member="Myk Venture"] was the only individual she felt that even drew some curiosity from her. Not really alive, it was always disturbing for the Miraluka to 'see' beings that didn't live in the force the same as she. It was never usually a problem of course, unless like this one they took the distinct shape of an organic... still she couldn't focus on him. He had his own business to attend to, and she had to make sure that Ylva got her bloody mead before she got someone in trouble.

Be it herself or whatever poor sap tried to explain the open bar to her.

 

[Ylva Heavenshield]

Ylva turned to look to [member="Caelag Vass"] somewhat blankly, for a moment mistaking her to be the help but then realizing she recognized the woman from somewhere before and reaching out to accept the flagon of mead, lifting it in acknowledgement and thanks. Whatever disapproval the other woman might have carried, it was soon lost upon her as Ylva Solveig sought to look to the others around them amidst the crowd. Rank and duty, formalities of that regard she didn't care much for. She wasn't here to please anyone but her own appetite and perhaps, in truth, [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] for his insistence that she should be making some sort of friends within the Iron Empire and 'playing nice' she believed his words were.

The promise that she had reluctantly made to him in cooperation caused her footing to stumble a little as her decision to turn back was fought against by her better judgement. None the less, she turned back to look in the direction of the Lady Vass and reach out to tap her shoulder in order to acquire her attention once again. "What do you rich folk usually do at these things aside from get drunk?" she asked over the voices of the others all mingling and talking around them; "it's the first one of these things I've bin' too...".

The night was young, yet if she didn't find something to distract her from all these upper class noblemen and stuck up high born folk, her patience and virtue would likely lessen with the priority being turned to the drink for continued stimulation into the nights affairs.

 

[Aster Rose Baelor]

Obligated to attend the event owing to her position in the Iron Empire, Aster hid her true feelings behind a mask and greeted those she saw with a polite smile. So much had happened to her and frankly, she was tired. Tired of wearing her mask, tired of faking smiles, and most of all tired of the heavy responsibilities that rested on her shoulders. Had my father not died, what kind of life would I be leading now? She had found herself wondering more often lately.

"Hello," she said, greeting some of the Aristocra with a polite nod and engaged them in a brief conversation before taking her leave of them and moved on to the next group and the next and the next. Events like these could be so monotonous at times.

"Princess, would you like a drink?" the Wolfsglaive asked her offering her a drink of some sort that he had removed from one of the wandering waiters' platter.

"Thank you," Aster took the drink from him and made her way towards [member="Makai Dashiell"], a boy who looked to be around her age, hoping he could offer her a much needed break from greeting the nobility. Hopefully he might be able to consider her his equal.

"Hello," she smiled at her fellow teenager. "Are you enjoying the festivities?" she inquired, not quite sure of what to say.

[member="Ylva Solveig"] | [member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Myk Venture"] | [member="Zeradias Mant"]​

 

[Caelag Vass]

• Wearing: Military Dress uniform, Purple cloak w/hood (down), Ornate eye-crown
• Post 1

Caelag noted that Ylva, at first, seemed satisfied with being given the drink of her choice, and turned around to leave, and no doubt spend the remaining time before the banquet itself in relative quiet, secluded away from the others. She was, then, a bit off guard when she felt Ylva's hand beckoning her to pay attention, before asking quite the loaded question. Rich folk, Caelag couldn't help but snort a bit at the comment as she turned her body around, her whole self now facing Ylva as she crossed her arms slowly. "Well, I wouldn't know what rich folk would do at these, considering I make just enough to live comfortably the three or four days I'm not deployed a year." And, of course, send sizable portions of her income to the small community that Aster had long since recruited her from. Considering the damages to the school, and the absence of her as a teacher, it was the least she could do to repay debts. Though on the other hand, Caelag's exaggeration of her frequent deployment, while obviously hyperbolic, wasn't incredibly lacking in some measure of truth. The blind woman did have a fondness for military duty..

"Even so, this isn't my first time at these dull engagements. What we're waiting for is the cue to find our seats at the banquet proper, where speeches about our accomplishments will be made, those who served exceptionally will be recognized, peace will be brokered, the fun stuff for political types. Then we eat, we dance if the ballroom is free, and the night is spent somewhere between merry festivities of refined sorts and awkward conversations in the corners of the room so no one can see you. Personally I'd feel much more comfortable if it took five minutes and I could get back to work, but some people seem to have a problem with their officers being 'too eager' to get back after being shot." She sighed and shook her head. "Does that answer your question?"

[member="Ylva Solveig"] | @Zeridas Mant | [member="Makai Dashiell"] | [member="Myk Venture"] | [member="Aster Rose Baelor"]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Security was tight.

Just as it should have been.

Much had happened in the lands of the Iron Empire since its inception. Between the Chiss insurgents, which had been eradicated according to official reports, and Mandalorian uprisings things had been tense in the Iron Realm. And now they were here...In the Redoubt Cluster. Intelligence suggested a small faction of pirates had taken hold. Or were they reavers? Slavers? Maybe all of the above. Either way, she was here to make sure that this event. With a sigh she tossed a chip into her mouth and pulled her Macrobinoculars back up.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Dracken shifted uncomfortably in his military uniform. Like all of the uniforms present, it had been custom tailored when he had enlisted, but that had been over a year ago now and he had slimmed down in some places and bulked up in others and now the uniform just felt...Tight in all the wrong places and loose in even worse places. He sighed and immediately regretted it, his hot breath making his neck even warmer. He was going to need more than a few drinks to get him through this party.

He wondered if anyone he knew was here. Even if he only knew them via command structure, it would be better than standing alone in this corner with a glass of melting ice water in his hands. He grumbled something about how blasting pirates was easier than formal galas and made his way to the food and drinks.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Makai watched the room start to fill up, drink in hand. Considering he didn't know many people in this region he suspected most of the night he'd be playing wallflower. It wasn't a terrible thing to do, in fact he was looking forward to it. Iced azure eyes did catch a familiar figure - [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] 's girl ([member="Ylva Solveig"] ). One problem - he didn't know her name beyond Teddy's Girl and Ted himself was no where in sight. It didn't seem right to head up to the redhead and try some of the same jokes he would use on Teddy. Not yet.


A sip of his drink as a young woman started to approach him. [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] looked roughly his age and he immediately pegged her for a fellow rich kid. At this point in his life Makai found it easy to spot those his age with similar backgrounds. She didn't wear any military dress like many of the other women in the room. Posture, tone of voice and choice of words all hinted at a well-educated background. If he had to guess, a daughter of someone important, probably a diplomat or general.


"Considering I don't have to bother with anything beyond people watching - its great."


Another sip of his drink, eyes still focused on the girl in front of him.


"What about you? Enjoying the night so far?"

 

[Lok Xiangu]

As important this event was and the Baelor family attending with other important political figures, Lyle with his squad of agents acted as part of the security. And security was tight as it should be. The Chiss Insurgency was perhaps defeated, but there would be separate remnants operating on its own in trying to accomplish their goals.

Something the agent had learn from history from many factions. No matter how much one was beaten and defeated, they would always return stronger and better than before.

The Baelor would have a pair of macrobinoculars to his eyes as he nested from a tower. It was a temporary nest as he was always around and on the go. Being still didn't help him as he felt stuck and useless. His eyes darted at one of his relatives. [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] who was a princess of the royal family. She appeared to be talking to a male that he had no knowledge of. The man was serious about his duty and family, but always kept caution of his surroundings.

Guess I have to dig some dirt soon.

His eyes then focused on scanning the rest of the area before moving on from his position.

 

[Zeradias Mant]

The crowds continued to grow, and between the many faces at the event, Zeradias recognized a few from previous events, mostly of a hostile nature. It was time, however, for things to begin kicking off. Even as a member of the Iron Council, the emperor's activities were still clouded in a shroud of mystery. He'd believed that he was supposed to make an appearance, but as of late, he'd taken a similar role as one might expect of First Order's supreme leader, taking a more indirect, backseat style of ruling, and allowing others to be the more public face of the empire. Zeradias was one of those faces.

Downing the rest of his drink, he assumed a position at the center stage, elevated from the rest of the floor for ease of visibility. As he climbed the steps and stood at the side of the stage, while his longtime adjutant, friend, and unofficial spokesperson, took to the center of the stage. He cleared his throat, before speaking. The strategically placed mics around the stage amplified his voice for all to hear throughout the room.

"May I have everyone's attention, please.", he started. After the chatter dulled even more to those of a few whispers and minute conversations, he continued.

"Thank you all for coming. Military folks, I know a lot of you didn't have a choice." That mustered a few chuckles.

"We're here not to churn up patriotism and fidelity in the Iron Empire; you lot have already displayed that much without much help at all. What we are here for, is you all. The awards ceremony will begin shortly. Please listen attentively for if you name is called, your presence is required on stage. Sitting arrangements are available at your leisure. Thank you."

With that message being put out, it was nigh time to kick things off. Zeradias wasn't about to spend the entire time on stage though. He did, however, have an exceptional vantage point in seeking out conversation. It wasn't difficult to spot the princess - one only needed to look for here Wolfsglaive entourage. The next individual he saw was the one he chose. After some navigating, he found himself in the presence of a young Miraluka, who by some degree or combination of skill, chance, and luck, had risen to be one of the Iron Empire's youngest field grade officers.

"Colonel Vass.", Zeradias said in greeting. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure."

[member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] | [member="Iella Rehal"] | [member="Dracken Pryce"] | [member="Makai Dashiell"] | [member="Lyle Baelor"] | [member="Isamu Baelor"]​

 

[Darth Athora]

Post I

Douglas sat at the bar, glass half full of Lachrymead in his hand, thinking about all that had lead to this moment. To him, it felt that he had just signed his life to the service of the Iron Empire just yesterday and each combat mission since then lasted mere seconds. In reality, they were much longer than that. He didn't want to dwell on these thoughts for too long. He wanted to live in the now instead of the past. He quickly downed the last bit of his drink and turned as he heard the voice of the Grand Admiral.

"About that time." he said to himself. He slid off the bar stool he was sitting on and walked to a decorated table near the stage where the ceremony would be taking place. He was somewhat excited to see if any of his friends in the military would be receiving any commendations. Several names popped into his head for those deserving of recognition. Douglas took a seat at an empty table and awaited the ceremony, oozing with anticipation.

[member="Caelag Vass"] | [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] | [member="Iella Rehal"] | [member="Dracken Pryce"] | [member="Makai Dashiell"] | [member="Lyle Baelor"] | [member="Isamu Baelor"] | [member="Zeradias Mant"]​

 

[Aster Rose Baelor]

Aster smiled relieved to have finally found someone who was able to treat her as they would any other. The special treatment she was usually given by others had often left her feeling rather lonely and made her felt as if everyone were a part of one group and she was the outsider, someone who needed to be treated with caution.

"Yes, I've been enjoying the night so far," Aster smiled politely. "How is people watching? Did you see anything interesting? I know a few people who can discern quite a bit about others from a single glance," she said and paused for a moment. "Oh, I know! Why don't we test your powers of observation?"

Giving the boy little time to reply, the teenager scanned the crowd for a familiar face until her eyes fell on [member="Caelag Vass"]. "What do you make of the brown haired woman in her military uniform with an ornate eye cover? Tell me your observation and I'll let you know if you're correct or not," she grinned as one of [member="Zeradias Mant"]'s man began his address.

[member="Makai Dashiell"] | [member="Douglas Reed"] | [member="Lyle Baelor"] | [member="Dracken Pryce"] | [member="Iella Rehal"] | [member="Ylva Solveig"] | [member="Myk Venture"]​

 

[Caelag Vass]

• Wearing: Military Dress uniform, Purple cloak w/hood (down), Ornate eye-crown
• Post 1
• 
  

Caelag was, admittedly, caught off guard when Grand Admiral Mant decided to approach her while she spoke to Ylva. So rather than a second, it took a couple for her arm to instinctively shoot up to salute him. "Sir! No we haven't, an unfortunate side effect of differing branches, Sir." Despite her immediate awkwardness in switching from her more casual tone with Ylva to her more practiced, structured speech to a superior officer, it was evident enough she felt highly comfortable in the role. In fact, judging by how she spoke, it could be inferred she was extremely comfortable being a subordinate, and perhaps even a measure of awkwardness in senior officer roles despite her time to adjust.

"That and my frequent deployment, little time to exchange pleasantries on the battlefield. Unless one were to define 'pleasantries' as a blaster bolt, at least." A joke if ever one had been told, a bit dark as was often signature to the 'gallows humour' of a soldier. And stuck nicely between structured speech and comfortable, civilly casual speech. The initial shock of being approached by such a dignified officer, even for the young nation, was quick to wear off after having settled over her. It was a shame she didn't have eyes, Admiral Mant's voice had a soft strength to it and surely a gaze to match. Unfortunately, for the girl who could only perceive the Force, such would be lost on her, and instead she had to focus on his darker shade of grey amidst the others around. Even in a sea of greys, his had the strangest hint of darkness, at least compared to the soldiers, who ranged from more neutral greys to brighter, certainly different than the near piercing white of Aster or Theo.

She liked it, honestly. It made him stand out. "Can I trust the evening is treating you well, Sir?" She was aware of Ylva still not far from her, cautious to not ignore her completely, as her slight turn of the head would hopefully indicate.


[member="Ylva Solveig"] | [member="Zeradias Mant"] | [member="Makai Dashiell"] | [member="Myk Venture"] | [member="Aster Rose Baelor"]

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

He was late. In fact he had not even thought he would make it.

The patrol on Ilum had taking a lot longer than expected, and on this evening Theo had ventured out with them as he is want to do. The snow vehicle pulled into the grounds of the pantheon came to a grinding halt as the doors opened. "Lord Praetor! the transport is ready and waiting for you. I took the liberty of putting your clothes for the Fete inside, hurry sir!", informed one of the Legion's finest. "Thanks Tonks". The transport, a military vessel sat with engines roaring on the pad as Theo and Tonks entered it promptly closed the ramp and ascended. The figurative pumpkin turned carriage for the ball.

"Tonks I want that rift constantly monitored, I don't like the increasing underground activity .. something is going to happen and sooner rather than later", he said stripping off to his boxers before starting to dress in his suit. "And where is [member="Boo Chiyo"]?", he asked of the young boy. He stood looking around this kit, shirt on but not buttoned up, "Where are my socks?". Tonks looked a little sheepish, "So Sir I forgot them". Nevermind.

Tonks was already dressed and had seemed to be more diligent regarding his socks, Theo slipped his feet into his black leathers feeling very uncomfortable and underdressed without his. Hopefully no one will notice.

It was a short trip, and soon Theo walked to steps up to the venue and entered pulling up his collar and buttoning his jacket in the process before entering the room. Already the fete was underway and many people had already started to enjoy themselves, but as he eyes cast around the room, he was only looking for one person and he soon found her at the other end of the hall, her long red hair giving her location away. A passing waiter stopped to offer the new comers a drink from a tray, which Theo accepted before starting the long journey across the floor among the sea of people. Tonks had already gone off to find his own fun.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Tonks was nice enough.

He was never going to be a knight. He was the nicest person you were apt to ever meet, but he wasn't leadership material. And he'd forget his own head if it wasn't attached to the rest of him. So Boo had checked behind him and, sure enough, had discovered that Tonks had forgotten Théo's socks.

Now, Boo had a plan to get back to Théo's quarters and meet back up with Tonks so that he could slip the socks into the kit and no one would know. And it wouldn't be the first time that the Primeval assassin had bailed out Tonks either.

Unfortunately, the best laid plans...

"Do you know how fast you were going, son?"

Yes. The answer was yes. He'd known precisely how fast he'd been going. Just like he'd known what the speed limit was. And, no, he hadn't been going to speed limit. "No, dad, I've no idea," the boy tossed back at the officer, who was now pulling out a notepad as though preparing to write out a citation.

All the while this was happening, Théo's socks were sitting next to the young Pantoran.

"I'm going to need to see your license and registration."

On the spectrum of things he didn't have time for today, this was definitely nearing the top.

Aside from which, he was eleven. What license did this cop think he even had? The boy's hand made a vague gesture as he spoke and said, "You don't need to see my license."

"I don't need to see your license."

Now if only this trick worked on [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] the boy might actually receive an allowance worth a Hutt. "You're going to let me off with a warning."

"I'm going to let you off with a warning this time, son."

Another vague gesture. "You're going to get back in your patrol speeder and think about faith in Sargon." At what point during this whole encounter that the Coruscant trained pickpocket had slipped the Primeval religious tract into the cop's pocket was anyone's guess. And Boo wasn't one to tell trade secrets.

In any event, if Théo was fashionably late to the ball, then Boo was just plain late.

The speeder pulled around to the front of the venue. A pimple-faced, teenage valet who might have been [member="Makai Dashiell"]'s less scaly twin started jogging up to the vehicle, then jumped back in surprise when a youngling got out of the driver's seat.

Without even missing a beat, the young Pantoran tossed the keys up at the mouth-agape teen as he casually strolled into the event like he owned it. Easy to do when no one really stopped you to check your invitation. But he was a kid, and kids tended to be invisible to adults like that.

His attire was very different from Théo's casual suit. A high mandarin collar, with a short cloak stitched into the shoulders so that it hung over the sleeves. A broad sash of zyed cloth traveled from his left shoulder down to his right hip. It was in the sash that he'd stashed the socks he was carrying.

Finding that scraggly faced Heavenshield Hutt-fart in this crowd was easy. Théo was the type of mark that any pickpocket or con man could see from a parsec away. "Your feet look a bit naked this evening, m'lord," the boy uttered quietly, sliding up against his master as he tried to pass the socks off to him on the down low.