Faction Future Regents Dinner [THR]

[Raylin Fall]

​

Sergeant Raylin Fall was a lot of things.

A Commando.

A Recon Marine.

A Medic.

A Raider.

An evasion expert.

A killer.

The best.

And- he was an observer. After all, that was his job- to be reconnaissance. He was observant to a fault, every detail mattered. People rarely tied their shoes a certain way without reason. So, when he sat down at that fancy table, surrounded by the fancy people, a single wrist laid on the table, his other hanging below the table, idly resting on his knee. He saw it unfolding, his eyes, passive and wide, looking to and fro.

The way that Loria Sorelle was looking at Dominic Praxon . Bastila Sal-Soren , a notorious- or perhaps infamous in the right circles, Jedi. Aiden Porte and the others speaking- sticking to their own for the moment. Probably more comfortable to speak to other Jedi. Lossa Aureus with a child. And there was something else that caught his eye-

Corazona von Ascania and whoever the hell she was talking to. She was nursing a wound. That much he knew. He was a medic, after all. He knew when someone was faking an injury, and more importantly, when they were hiding it. He wondered how badly it hurt, whatever it was. It was obvious in the way she carried herself. Maybe more than physical wounds. Often they were. Quickly, Raylin realized something-

This dinner was like any other warzone he'd been in. Just more angles of attack. It was hard to say who was fighting for what- but the social affair was much of a political event as any rally. It was a test, perhaps a show, perhaps a battle, a tug of war, a competition for the who's-who of Naboo and the Republic. He rolled his fork between his fingers, unable to stop himself from looking around.

His eyes flicked to the drinks being poured at the table. His leg bounced a little heavier. Maybe one more, enough to stop the shakes.

 

[Decarii Tithe]

Kadaara, Naboo

Sibylla Abrantes

“No pockets, I'm afraid,” Decarii replied to Sibylla’s compliment about her dress. She held up a small clutch. “Luckily I travel light - a lifetime of interstellar work trips living out of my luggage. Now, I did arrive with a young man who could hold my things, but we’ve - how do I put this - parted amicably.” She looked around the room again, making sure the date she had ditched had still not found her.

The mood of the room changed as Aurelian Veruna and several distinguished nobles entered the room, either taking a seat or mingling with the crowd. It was an air of power that an outsider like Decarii could only aspire to possess. While she looked the part, a beautiful dress was no match for generations of Naboo pedigree.

The mention of the Finance Committee piqued her interest. While Decarii was a lawyer, Aargauun blood still ran in her veins. Money was a religion for her people, a way of life. And thanks to the border skirmishes with Black Sun and the Sith, the High Republic was finding itself in the midst of a military-industrial complex boom. A savvy investor stood to make a killing. Her peers in the Trade Federation were counting on her to make sure the market was favourable.

“What can I say, I like to make myself helpful where I can,” she explained to Sibylla as the two women made their way toward the bar. “Senator Veruna sought my counsel on amendments to his defence spending bill. Now, not to speak ill of his staff, but their work lacked a certain flair.” The lawyer had spent many late nights in the High Assembly’s law library, drafting provisions to fund a much-expanded High Republic military. Once the bill passed and became law, it would represent another in her long list of legal victories.

Decarii’s gaze carried around the room as Sibylla painted a picture of the Naboo elites. The royal houses had a lot in common with the courtrooms she called home. Back stabbing and intrigue were part and parcel, and while no one was afraid of the frontal confrontation, the best battles were the ones you won before they even started.

The pair arrived at the bar. Decarii examined the menu for a moment before ordering two glasses of aged reserve ruby wine. The villa’s cellar alone had to be worth more than the GDP of some Outer Rim worlds. She handed the glass to Sibylla and tapped the glasses together in a toast.

“This might surprise you, but I don’t find much time to read for pleasure,” she replied as they discussed the most recent musings of the Swan of Solleu. The enigmatic columnist had certainly caught the attention of the High Republic upper class. “But, I understand it has been the talk of the lake country. Surely, Ambassador, someone with your standing would never be mixed up in such salacious rumours?”

 

[Aiden Porte]

Tags: Kael Varnok John Locke Roman Vossari

Kael's words found quiet resonance in Aiden's mind. The Jedi Knight felt an unease rippling beneath the surface calm of Kadaara's shimmering coast. He let his senses extend outward again, brushing against the laughter of nobles on the terrace, the crackle of lanterns swaying in the sea breeze, and the low thrum of tension carried on the Force itself.

"You're right," Aiden answered, his tone clipped but steady. "It's too calm." His gaze swept the horizon, narrowing on the dark line where sea met sky. Then, with a subtle tilt of his head, he gestured toward the gardens where two fellow allies were standing guard. Their silhouettes blended with the trees, but through the Force, their presence was bright, watchful.

The Jedi Knight had positioned them with care. One watched from the cliff path that wound toward the estate, ready to intercept any approach. Another walked among the guests in plain sight, their quiet composure disarming, meant to draw no suspicion. Kael and Aiden, however, remained near the edges, outward-facing, the line between ceremony and threat.

Aiden's hands folded loosely before him, yet his stance was firm, centering him in both the physical and the unseen currents of the Force. He inclined his head slightly toward the terrace where Aurelian Veruna was among would-be allies and rivals alike. "His path is heavy enough without shadows pressing in," Aiden murmured. "We keep the shadows from crossing the threshold."

For a moment, he fell silent, watching the gathering's gilded facades shift and shimmer in the lantern light. Beneath them, the Force whispered restlessly, like surf waiting to break. He exhaled slowly, returning his focus to Kael.

"If the tide turns, we hold it, together."

And with that, the Jedi Knight turned his attention back to the gathering, his calm presence a silent promise of protection, if an unseen storm drew closer.

They would be ready to act.

 

[Kael Varnok]

Kael's eyes lingered on the horizon a moment longer, the faint orange line of sunset bleeding into shadow. When he finally spoke, it was low enough to be carried only between the two of them.

"You speak of shadows as though they are only threats to be kept at bay." His tone was calm, deliberate — yet something beneath it vibrated like a taut wire. His gaze flicked sidelong to Aiden, measuring. "Tell me, Port… do you believe in demons?"

The question was not asked idly. It carried weight, the kind of weight that came from personal familiarity rather than academic musing.

A moment's silence followed, and Kael seemed to realize how the words had landed. His shoulders shifted, a tightening of control, as though dragging something half-feral back inside. He exhaled once through his nose, steadying.

"…Forgive the question," he added after a beat, voice smoothing into its more measured cadence. "I've walked battlefields where the dead did not rest easily. At times, I wonder if what we call shadows in the Force are simply… memories that refuse to let go."


His gaze returned to the nobles, the lanterns, the tide that waited unseen beyond the rocks.

Aiden Porte

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Kaadara Estate, Naboo
Directly Interacting with: Decarii Tithe | Loria Sorelle | Dominic Praxon | Aurelian Veruna | Bastila Sal-Soren
Nearby: John Locke Corazona von Ascania Cassian Abrantes Her Vemric Keldra Lossa Aureus Raylin Fall Aiden Porte Roman Vossari Kael Varnok
Wearing: Dress | x x

​

Sibylla's expression shifted at Decarii's lament over the lack of pockets, the curve of her mouth softening into one of more's the pity. Yet it was the remark about the young man she'd 'amicably parted from' that sparked a genuine glimmer of amusement in Sibylla's eyes. She gave a light laugh, raising her glass in thanks as she accepted the offered wine.

"To be honest, I've also had to make careful escapes from… enthusiastic gentlemen," she relayed with wry candor, the memory bringing the faintest color to her cheeks.

"Pray tell, who was the Lord? If he resurfaces, I promise I can distract him. Few Lords can escape my lyrical discourse on Naboo's myths and legends." And while her tone was in jest, there was no doubt she meant it. Sibylla had been known to wax poetic when given the chance.

Her attention, however, slid back toward the head of the table, where Lady Bastila Sal-Soren spoke with Aurelian Veruna . She slowly sipped the ruby wine, finding it fine enough that her father would approve, though she could not help but think it lacked a certain bite. Her eyes flicked toward the glass of whiskey Aurelian raised in quiet salute across the table. Corellian Reserve. She remembered its taste vividly.

Yet it was the slight upward ghost of a smile that betrayed her encouragement to Aurelian as she caught the subtlety of his gesture to Lady Sal-Soren. He had not snapped back at Bastila's provocation. Instead, with one simple toast, he shifted the weight of the room back into his orbit. All eyes on him, without giving her the satisfaction of a scene.

Well done, she thought, lips curving into a smile that was finally genuine. Her expression softened as her gaze lingered on him, touched by the quiet reassurance that Aurelian had listened and applied her counsel. That small measure of restraint gave him more control than a thousand words of bravado ever could.

"Senator Veruna surrounds himself with the most competent of staff," Sibylla remarked then, turning smoothly back to Decarii. "But each has their own expertise. Yours, Advisor Tithe, is invaluable...especially in shaping language that will be scrutinized long after the ink dries. Some will cling to the Letter of the Law, others the Spirit. Ensuring both are well-represented is no small feat."

She gestured with her glass toward the long table now being set. "Come, let's sit. I would like to continue to share the evening in your company."

The soft silk of her skirt whispered against her legs as she reached the table, and for a moment Sibylla's eyes drifted past Aurelian to the open horizon beyond. The sea stretched out in a sweep of silver and blue, catching the last of the sun in a way that stole her breath. A gentle breeze sent the wayward strands of hair up to tickle her cheeks as she stood there taking it in. Then, a rare smile softened her features in a brief moment of appreciation before she inclined her head in greeting towards Aurelian Veruna .

"You have chosen well, my lord. The view is nothing short of breathtaking," she said, hazel eyes flickering with genuine warmth for a few lingering seconds before her attention slipped across the table at the brunette sitting beside him.

"Lady Sal-Soren," Sibylla continued, her smile deepening as she addressed Bastila, "it is both a relief and a delight to see you are doing well. Your presence honors the table." The sincerity in her tone carried through, touched by admiration for the resilience it must have taken simply to be here.

"Lord Praxon, Lady Sorelle, a pleasure. I do hope my dearest brother did not bore you with his conversation?" in light jest, referencing seeing Cassian Abrantes speaking with the pair earlier. Who was now, actually, curiously intrigued by the Priestess Jael Amnen of House Amnen. She lofted a brow at her brother's direction before returning to smile pleasantly at the group, introducing Decarii with a graceful gesture.

"May I please introduce to you, Advisor Decarii Tithe , one of our most excellent Legal Advisors in the High Assembly Judicial Committee."

 

[Her]

---

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Naboo, Mid Rim systems;
Kadaara, The High Republic;
Vūm, The Tarsai Vigil.
Tags: Jael Amnen | Aurelian Veruna | Vemric Keldra | Cassian Abrantes | Raylin Fall | Sibylla Abrantes | John Locke | Lossa Aureus | Kael Varnok | Corazona von Ascania | Loria Sorelle | Bastila Sal-Soren | Roman Vossari | Decarii Tithe | Seldan Rourke | Aiden Porte |

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Above the lull of Mid Rim power convened in this gathering in Kadaara (as Aurelian had quietly and accurately assessed to himself) walked Her: the outlier, the stranger, and a woman of little to no clout here in these halls in comparison to the noble families who had come to engage in Naboo aristocracy. As she traversed the outer edges of the party, with her crimson eyes quietly observing the little groups that were forming, Her only paused their walk after a Veruna servant requested the hat that she had been wearing.

After passing the garment over, which revealed some of the esoteric tattoos visible near the crux of her neck, Her took herself into the fold after the long, elongated table laced with fine cutlery, vintage wines and exquisite food had been laid for the likes of the Tarsai Vigil manager and the other guests of House Veruna. As she walked to her designated seat (found on at the end of the table, far away from Aurelian, which betrayed her status in this event) Her quietly chastised herself as their hand reached forward to slide the chair out from beneath the table to take her place.

Business and politics in the Outer Rim systems were serving to be a distraction which had taken her attention away from Naboo. As a servant poured her one of the wine bottles, Her cupped her palms together and rested the rim of her chin along their fingers in quiet thought. She knew a little about the noble houses here such as the Veruna but the others were complete strangers to the likes of the undercover Dark Lord and that bothered her immensely.

There had been some rumours of the Confederacy, which had reached Imperial space, but nothing to give Her insight into the career of Vemric Keldra or the alliances that he had created within the High Republic. The Jedi present here were foreign to her as well. Occupied by her machinations within the Confederation, founded on New Alderaan, with the intent to dismantle the Sith client state found in the Thandon Star Cluster, had left the Dark Lord at a disadvantage here in these proceedings.

What Her desired was to make headway here in this party. To create an introduction to the nobility of the Nabooian royal caste, to the business interests and politics at play, while avoiding the scrutiny of the Jedi and military types who had come here. To establish ties so that she could begin to learn more about the internal dynamics of the institutions of a galactic power which shared a long and vast border centre-mid among the other superpowers...

---

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Interacting: Roman Vossari
Mentioned: Kael Varnok

"I doubt that fate would make a fuss," she offered with a light smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Kael Varnok. Do enjoy your evening."

Cora blinked in surprise as he reached for her hand, then gave it a squeeze before departing. As he left, Roman stepped in to fill the gap. The smile that she had for him was less refined, more familiar.

"Good," she murmured. Her attention drifted towards the dining tent, but she didn't move. Not yet. Something was lingering on Roman's shoulders, dragging down his tall frame.

Then he spoke, and her focus shifted quietly to his face. There was tension in his jaw, and a lingering distrust in his words.

In his eyes lived a deep, grim concern. Between all their years as master an apprentice, Cora had never seen Roman wear an expression with such particular intensity. It softened something in her, something tired and vulnerable that she'd only allow to slip through the cracks for a few quiet moments.

"There have been talks," she began, "of Ukatis joining the High Republic."

Cora waved a hand toward the stream of aristocrats meandering towards the tent.

"I need to see what these people are like for myself. Fabian will do fine on his own, but if I can no longer fight on the battlefield-"

A pause, during which she inhaled through her nose to fill one good lung with air.

"Then I will fight another way. Rest can only do so much, Roman, and the galaxy is changing. To protect Ukatis, my health and comfort are a small price to pay.”

Her voice dropped lower between them, teetering on the edge that separated stern from yielding.

"You know that."

Ashla knew that she'd sacrificed pieces of herself to that world already. Cora leaned back in her chair, fingertips drumming against the armrest as a vaguely lighter mood took her.

"Don't worry about that sharp-tongued prince and his friends. I won't crumble beneath a few insults." She waved a dismissive hand. "If he has even a shred of the honor that he pretends to have, he won’t pick on an injured woman."

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

Cassian bowed his head slightly at her words, a gesture of acknowledgment rather than surprise. Her warmth was genuine, her poise unshaken, and he recognized the subtle weight she carried, not from lineage, but from faith.

"Then the goddess has shown her favor tonight," he replied, his tone calm, measured, yet touched with sincerity. "For Naboo thrives when those who guide her spirit and those who guard her hearth walk side by side."


He offered his arm without hesitation, the action neither presumptuous nor hesitant, but marked by the quiet assurance of a man long accustomed to responsibility. "Let us take our seats, and perhaps, in the course of the evening, you will share how the Mother's wisdom might steady us amidst the winds that stir."

His gaze held hers for a moment longer, not challenging, not prying, but seeking a truth beyond ceremony, a mark of respect that spoke louder than any courtesy. Then, with the dignity of House Abrantes and the deliberate calm of a man who understood the gravity of every gesture, he guided her toward the tables, his presence a steady counterpoint to her luminous grace.

He gave a passing glance, smile and nod to all those present offering a Noble, yet easy greeting, even to Aurelian as he took his seat. His mind already readying itself for whatever squander would leave Aurelian's mouth this evening.

Cassian knew as they were seated the true events would begin to show, as words conveyed more darker and sinister understandings. His thoughts shifted to what his father told him. Traitors in the dark, the shadows begin to move.

He truly wondered how much time he had.

Jael Amnen

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

Aurelian sat at the head of his table, a dangerous smile fixed on his lips. It was a mask polished to perfection, yet beneath it, something else stirred. He had mastered the political game: restraint when it mattered, spectacle when it counted, and silence when it spoke louder than any retort. Still, in the quiet between courses, he could feel it.

He felt their looks, heard the whispers, and caught the barbed words hidden in civility.

Bastila mocked him with "Master Veruna." Dominic's careful politeness carried a challenge. The others offered little smirks, lowered voices, and cutting looks that flicked towards him then quickly away.

He had said little all evening, yet he felt guilty. Guilty for his name, his smile, his reputation, guilty simply for being Aurelian Veruna. Guilty, too, for trying to pull Naboo into a brighter, stronger age. Was his effort not enough? He had offered his energy, his coin, and his vision, yet they still gathered at his table as if watching a show, waiting and judging him.

Deep down, the situation stung him. It was an unnamed betrayal, a wound of being seen as less than he was. He usually shrugged off such things, like a man accustomed to treachery, but tonight, the barbs felt particularly sharp.

Dominic's voice drew him from his inward tempest. Aurelian's eyes slid toward him and Lady Sorelle, catching every subtle gesture between them, every performance of closeness. He inclined his head, gracious as a king, though his smile never lost that coy, predatory tilt.

"Lord Praxon," Aurelian said smoothly. "Rest assured, your credits were not spent on wine and candles. They have gone precisely where they ought: into the defense of Naboo. Tonight is a gift of House Veruna alone." He lifted his glass slightly, whiskey catching firelight. "But I do appreciate your generosity. In fact..." His lips curved, dangerous and amused. "I took the liberty of matching your bid. A donation, in your name, to the Thistlebark Foundation. Blaire runs it well, does she not? I thought perhaps the gesture would suit you. May it serve your polls as faithfully as it serves Naboo."

His eyes flicked, catlike, toward Dominic. It was a kindness, yes, but a kindness with teeth. Aurelian gave, and Aurelian could just as easily take away.

It was then Sibylla entered the fray, gliding in gracefully. Decarii at her side, her laughter still lingering in the air. Aurelian's gaze softened as Sibylla spoke and smiled that bright smile. He raised his glass to her, the faintest tilt of acknowledgment.

"My lady Abrantes," he said, his tone warm where it had been cool before. "You honor me, as ever. And Advisor Tithe, my gratitude. Your hand in my latest bill was not unseen. Naboo's defense will stand stronger for it." His gaze swept the table now, inclusive, grand. "In truth, I thank you all. Each of you holds a part in Naboo's future, and tonight is not mine alone. This is our table. This, our beginning. You will all play your roles in the renaissance to come."

He leaned back, letting the weight of the words settle. He was young, yes, but he looked the part of something more. His eyes, dark and gleaming, flicked with keen interest as he turned back to Dominic.

"You should speak with the Ukatian delegation while they are here," he advised casually, almost idly, as if gifting a secret. "I hope to draw them into the Republic fold soon. It would bode well for you to take the credit. Fabian may play at being King there, but I suspect this Lady Corazona von Ascania is actually the true ruler. Appeal to her, and Naboo's hand will guide Ukatis's crown before long."

And then, finally, his gaze slid back to Bastila. He studied her in silence for a moment longer than comfort allowed, letting the pause sharpen the anticipation. When he spoke, his voice was lower, smooth as glass.

"Tell me, Lady Sal-Soren," Aurelian said, his dangerous smile tugging at his lips again. "Do you plan to see out the Sovereign Race? Perhaps tonight we may already take the measure of the nobles. Consider it... an early taste of what the future whispers."

His glass tipped once more, a toast to no one in particular, and he drank.

Dominic Praxon | Loria Sorelle | Bastila Sal-Soren | Sibylla Abrantes | Decarii Tithe​