Galactic Alliance: A Little Bit Fancy

[Aran Finn]

One of the first things Alen Na'Varro had done on joining the Galactic Alliance was to buy a large home within Sullust's wealthier districts. Five bedrooms, five bathrooms, four garage spaces ... all the space a middle-aged single dad needs to spend his mid-life crisis living in without going completely insane. And believe it or not, he actually used all those garage spaces. The bearded man loved his ships ...

Anyway. Moving along.

The next thing he had done was to send out stylish, handwritten invitations to hundreds of his new colleagues and friends. Then he spent a few thousand credits on lights, catering, tables, chairs and a string quartet and bam, the Galactic Alliance had itself its first unofficial ball. The Fringe Confederacy had been famous for these things, and for good reason. Na'Varro, originally a bit of a grumpy hermit, had grown to love socialising at these events. Good food, too much alcohol, and a whole new perspective on those he was going to work with. It was a good time.

From his gate to his front door, guests would find a path marked by small hanging lights on both sides. They would be greeted at his front door by a polite tuxedo-wearing gentleman who would take their coats and usher them into the massive antechamber, which was stylishly decorated with chandeliers, other hanging lights and white-clothed tables. And then there was the D Floor, which wasn't yet going off but hey, it was still early. The room was already full with guests, though none of the real players had showed up yet. Na'Varro contented himself to chat nonchalantly about the differences between trickle down and middle-class economics with a Vice President of the Banking Guild, who was nice enough for a Neimoidian, if a little oily. Economics wasn't really Na'Varro's field, though.

Clad in a well-tailored navy blue suit with a thin tie, the Master kept his eye on the door for new guests. His other eye, however, was keenly searching for a passing waiter. He needed another drink.

All in all, he was expecting an eventful night.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Location : Sullusts' Richie Rich District
Tags : [member="Alen Na'Varro"]




Judah wasn't one for fancy parties. Yet in life, and business, one had to do things they didn't quite care for. Sure the food was excellent. The drinks never ending. All was well until one got cornered by a sentient who wanted to drone on and on about the demise of the Mid-Rim Hawk-Bat species. Or politics. Or the finer points of mowing one's lawn.


To make matters worse, he had no buffer. Going in without a date of some sort meant all the pressure was on him not to snap on the Hawk-Bat people. It would also mean there was no one to make fun of others with. No one to watch his back when they wanted to slip out in the black of night.


He could do it though. It was one night. A few hours.


Adjusting the bowtie on his simple black suit, Judah walked up the entry to meet his fate. Hand went to open the door but he found it already being thrust open, with what appeared to be butlers waiting to take coats and the like. A simple hello was exchanged, as Judah had nothing to place into coat check. Besides, coat check only slowed one down when it came time to make a hasty exit.


Here goes nothin'

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Gala's were nothing new for the Queen of Trade.

They were the perfect venue for networking. A little bit of alcohol would set tongues flowing and inhibitions would lower. The social air and the ambiance of low light made it the perfect cocktail of interaction. Humans, and even other species, were social by nature, desiring to find a connection. For what reason that may be, who knew. Everyone had ambitions and desires, and perhaps it would be as simple as desiring the company of another.

Danger would quietly study her reflection on the viewport of the airspeeder she rode in. Here on Sullust, the cities were underground, where vast underwater lakes and seas gave life to lush biomes. Sheltered by the volcanic caverns and heated by the ambient heat, it was quite literally, another world fit to awe and inspire. One could understand now why the Sullustans held their homeplanet so dear.

The woman that stared back at her upon the reflective surface wore her silver glinted hair in smooth waves. Wide green eyes were lined with kohl, enhancing their vibrancy. Powder would fade the freckles and the faint fine lines of age, bright red lipstick and a hint of rouge would complete the look, a classic beauty. Simple was best when it came to Danger Arceneau. She learned that a long while ago. Enough to enhance, enough to catch the eye. Classy is as classy does. Her dress was no different. Simple, black, modest, but sensual enough to leave the rest to the imagination. Danger had no reason to do otherwise. The confidence she seemingly emitted was tantalizing enough.

This was a gala for the new Galactic Alliance, and she was keen on rubbing elbows on those who would be in charge. However, there was another reason, one that actually made her smile draw wider at the thought of her escort.

By all intents and purposes, this particular gala had the look of a large party. Danger enjoyed large parties. They are so intimate.

Small parties there isn't any privacy.

 

[Spark Finn]

It was the third time she had ever worn a dress. Marna and her mission with Jericho and now. That time with Rekha Kaarde didn't count. #skirt

Blue eyes beneath glass lenses scanned the crowds, one hand gripping her comm as she i-commed messaged and walked. Not generally recommended. But her electrical devices were like second appendages. But not literally. That was just [member="Coren Starchaser"].

#sithhappened

Who was this [member="Alen Na'Varro"] dude anyway? Man had some serious swag and swagger. Blue-eyes widened slightly as she saw [member="Judah Dashiell"] across the room. There was that one time when his security brought her in for questioning about slicing into his company profit margins....

#couldbeawkward

Drinks were good. She needed one. The gangly-blond stopped at the bar. The bartender looked at her skeptically. "I need to see some ID ma'am."

Slow-blink.

#lolwut

 

[Mya Jesel]

Mya still wasn't used to these fancier events her role as a representative had brought her into. She was used to freighter pilot gatherings, casual, informal things in bars and cantinas where they'd gather around and drink and tell stories. Now she was here at a formal event in a new green dress and borrowed shoes to set off her hair. It was very unusual to wear an outfit like this. She didn't think she'd worn one of these since secondary school dances. The Academy was all formal, unisex uniforms.

She was an elected representative of the Susefvi Legislature, appointed diplomat to the newly formed Galactic Alliance. A dress would not get in her way. She strode through the softly lit garden pathway to the door, handed her jacket to the butler, and almost but not quite marched into the party, armed with her most charming smile. She was going to meet people, make friends, and convince them Susefvi would be the perfect place for them. Somehow, anyways. Time to put those training skills to work.

She caught sight of a blonde woman looking very confused over by the bar. She would be a good one to start with. Mya headed towards her and stepped up beside her.

"Hello, I'm Mya Jesel." She offered her hand out to shake.

[member="Spark Finn"]

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

Alric stood dressed in his usual formal attire, a tuxedo perfectly fitted to him, though no bowtie around his neck.

That had felt unnecessary, or rather, he had simply been too lazy to actually put up with wearing one. The things always felt like they were choking him out, not something he really enjoyed. Beside, this whole thing wasn't that important, Alric was mostly here because Danger had asked him to come, and he found it difficult to deny her anything as of late.

So he was here, at another gala, for another faction he wasn't quite sure of. The last one had turned out rather interesting, expansion into the outer rim and dealings with the Chiss that would soon come to fruition. This...this was entirely new. It was in support of something that Alric found interesting, though he was unsure if he could support. A Galactic Alliance seemed perfect, but as a man who had been on the other side for so long, it simply seemed too good to be true.

The Tetan frowned slightly, then shook his head.

His hand settled on the small of Danger's back, pressing her gently forward. "Come on. Lets get to it."

Alric's voice carried no little amount mock enthusiasm.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Really? He was going to this thing? Supposed he needed to. The Supreme Commander was making him, and well, so was Spark. Plus, seeing the girl in a dress? Sign him up. Yeah ok, maybe he was coming out of his shell, he was working for a potentially stable government now that allowed him freedom of command and he could help terrorize the Sith on an official level, and have the backing of Jedi that actually did things, thanks [member="Aela Talith"] and your Grand Marshal.

He was feeling safe here, especially with Nemo Ven’s desire to wipe the Sith stain (pun intended) off the galaxy. He’d need one hell of a washing machine, and Coren was going to build that. As he entered Na’Varro’s house-estate-palace, he nodded as he looked around. Alen was a good chit, Fringe soldier, turned what… Jedi? Maybe. Civilian dress than military tonight, he was hoping to meet with some of the people who funded this operation.

But first #Selfie.

Except not really, bar, and the blonde at it. Stepping to the bar, he ordered whatever they had in house that was Corellian, and looked over at [member="Spark Finn"] and [member="Mya Jesel"] "You two come to these things often?” Yeah, he was that kind of lame.

 

[Jsc]

Hey Richie
w [member="Alen Na'Varro"]

Karen entered via the front door clad in her best Tetan shawl. A glittering gold regalia thrown over a kitten's black body suit. A shimmering frill that ending happily about her waist and only slightly began again by touching upon her fashionable bronze bangles. An outfit of strength, sex, and the always expensive luxury of Sith traded silks. Chin up, back straight, and fearless.

She approached the sexist man in the room. Naturally,

"Ah. The Hostess himself? My my. How do you do Master Na'Varro. I've heard quite a bit about you already. Mm. Guess I'll have to add "Throws wonderful parties" to my list of intelligence reports too. Hehe. Oh my. Ya know? ...Mm. Now that I think about it. I once fought a man very similar to your bearing during a very old and very boring war. Mm. Yes. I believe he threw me from a bridge, scratched my car, and still owes me money over the whole affair? Fascinating story. Wouldn't you agree?"

She smirked and snapped her fingers. Giving a tall curtsy and sway of her hips,

"Karen Roberts. Commander of RnR PMC Denon. At your service. Naturally."

To those in attendance who cared for such things, Roberts held a Master's aura in the Force and she made no attempt to deny it.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

"Don't sound too enthused," Danger would drawl out with a dry mock, a half smirk over her lips as the Tetan's hand encouraged her forward.

"I'd hate to think how you'd handle dancin'." A glance over to him would share her amusement, catching sight of the scruffy casual business man GQ look he had going on. For what it was worth, Alric Kuhn could pull it off. She knew few who could. The only other individual she knew who was so easy going and could be just as charming was the CEO of Salacia Consolidated, [member="Judah Dashiell"]. Granted, his kind of casual attire was more down to the Outer Rim level -- and it suited him just fine.

The trail of overhead lights would guide them along the entryway; already there were many guests in assembly. The low murmur of conversation, the light melody of music for ambiance, and the mood lighting were all checked. Being a hostess herself, Danger could admire the attention to detail provided by [member="Alen Na'Varro"]. Perhaps she would meet him today?

Down the corridor they went, ambling slowly with curious observation of who where the other revelers in attendance. Having just arrived, those who were here earlier were not quite in view as of yet.

"Reckon my toes might not be able to survive it." came the low snark.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Galactic Alliance Gala ; Main Party Room



Judah had meandered down the corridor, following the other guests. Grand chandeliers seemed to mark their path towards the main party. As he drew closer, there was already the soft strains of background music mixed with the low chatter of the invited guests. The dance floor seemed quite empty, but one could expect such a thing so early into the night.


Grabbing some type of drink from a passing waiter, Judah took a sip and worked his way to the edge of the room. Hopefully it would be full of folks just like him : average sentients looking to blend into the crowd and avoid any overt attention.


Except it wasn't. By the time he reached the little corner established in his mind as his, a portly middle aged man had seemed to already stake it out. The guy was wolfing down crab cakes as if they were going out of style. Maybe the ocean was running out of that species. No doubt at a party like this, someone was already droning on about it.


"Hey, you!" Crab-cake guy spoke up. "You look like you could stand to get your mind off a few things."


Like this party for instance?


"Name's Sal. I'd shake your hand, but you can see I'm busy. Whats your name pal?" Before Judah could even answer, Sal the Crab-Cake guy was continuing on. "Yeah, got invited here due to my connections with the banking system. Manager at one of their collection outposts. Can't tell you where though, might wanna break in and steal it all"


A hearty laugh from Sal the Crab-Cake guy as he gave Judah a friendly slap on the back, nearly causing the curly haired CEO to spit out his drink.


It was going to be a long few hours.

 

[Ilias Nytrau]

No stranger to events with some vague similarity to these, Perris as a man had no qualms in showing up. As the still-new CEO of an old, nay ancient, corporation, he felt duty-bound to appear, as it would provide more opportunity to rub shoulders with the movers, shakers, et al that the Galactic Alliance attracted to its fold. It was slow-growing, where he felt a tad more sure of connecting himself and the corporation to this band of do-gooders with each passing day, and having something (maybe) to believe in. A game of 'wait and see', not that he was doing much in terms of waiting.

He came in a recently-tailored black suit, pressed white shirt, slant-striped tie. He'd never gone for the tuxedo, having never even so much as worn one on his wedding day around three decades prior, on account of having a dress uniform at his disposal that was far, far less worn at the time than the flightsuits he had lived in. That particular dress uniform was one he couldn't bear to look on after the death of Elsebetta, some five years or so later, and by the time of his deepest grievings had passed and he had returned to active flight duty, the standard had thankfully been altered. It had only been a year, give or take, since he had removed his wedding band from the finger on which it had persisted - seeing the growing happiness of his own son with the daughter of an old, late friend was the catalyst that began turning the wheels of his thoughts towards his own happiness.

Twenty or so years was long enough, but that was so far off the list of reasons for why he was passing through the front door to socialize and forge potential relationships of working and friendship for years to come. The first thing he did, of course, was find the nearest waiter so as to obtain glug of some sort, before scanning the room to find that not every face in attendance was one of a stranger... such as [member="Judah Dashiell"], being accosted for a moment or two by a, shall we say, mass-gifted individual. Witnessing it pulled on the corners of his mouth in a gentle way, and he felt some pity for the man that caused him to gravitate in Judah's direction.

"Dashiell," he said, coming near, drink in hand, "Evenin'."

He raised the glass in a sort of salute, and took a hearty sip. Long night to come? Maybe, maybe not.

 

[Placeholder 04]

This [member="Alen Na'Varro"] guy seemed pretty swell. Not many people would open up their home to relative strangers. Cyril had never heard of him, and odds were he wouldn't run into the man, but he was grateful nonetheless.

That did not mean he was pleased with himself. He'd been to a total of three parties, none of which were particularly big, and all were done for the sake of the Naboo Monarchy. Needless to say, things had been a little posh.

A casual fling like this was an entirely different animal. Though he was ashamed to admit it, the Jedi Master was experiencing a bit of anxiety; the kind that made you stay home and watch a program on the holonet until the next morning. The only reason he'd ended up coming was because Shlurk forced him to. Cyril did not get out much to begin with, and with the death of his mother, he'd become a shut-in save for Jedi business.

Finding made itself out to be a hill he just could not get over. The clothing that he did own was the sort of thing you would wear to a podrace, or it was Jedi regalia. He did not own a single suit to speak of.

So he'd gone last minute shopping.

The results of such were what you could expect when a thirty-something asocial space monk, and an overgrown lizard that shunned anything not made of durasteel went shopping with an eighty credit budget. Clad in his new shirt, a Jedi robe that trailed a foot behind him serving as an overcoat, and some worn down jeans, Cyril made his way to the party.

"You know you can just call me if it gets uncomfortable." Shlurk growled. The massive lizard-man was sitting in the pilot's seat of an idling speeder parked just across from the shindig. "Why don't you just come with me?" Cyril half-asked, half begged.

His old friend narrowed his beady yellow eyes. "Because I want to catch the showing of Blarg Trek tonight. It's on the vids. I don't do parties."

Cyril shook his head. "I don't either!"

Shlurk chortled. "You're going to."

Before Cyril could reply, the speeder lifted up, and shot down the road. There was no going back now. It was time to be a functioning member of society. The problem was he wasn't entirely sure he knew how. With a huff, he tied his long-hanging robe partially around his waist, and made his ways quietly inside.

There were a few stares, but the robe at least gave away what he was. People had seen enough nutty Jedi in their time to write him off as an inept research obsessed master - which was not far from the truth at all lately. Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, the Jedi Master made his way to the bar, gave those already present a cursory look, and ordered a Balmoraan Bluesky.

He recognized Starchaser. The other two? Not so much. Rather than try and step in on the man's 'game', as the kids said, Cyril opted to remain quiet, listen, and not draw too much attention to himself.

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

[member="Mya Jesel"]

[member="Spark Finn"]

 

[Damon Riggs]

A ball, a gala, whatever it was called, Riggs had been to many of these in the military. Standard would be his dress uniform, but this group didn't have those figured out yet. Everything was so knew. Riggs wasn't going to wear his old one, the colors were wrong. Russo had been the first, and only, thought for a date. She'd accepted with a message saying she'd found the perfect black dress and to match him accordingly. He chuckled, and sent her a quick response. "Aye, Aye, Captain!" He added a winky face.

It took Riggs thirty minutes to shower, shave, brush his teeth, and dress. He added fifteen extra minutes to press his shirt. With all of that out of the way, Riggs took one look in the mirror. His dark suit and white shirt was plain. The pop of color came with the tie and pocket square. Riggs did like to add a flare when not in uniform.

Riggs had also assured he picked a longstemmed rose for Russo. He'd normally get red, but her favorite color was lavender. The thought of her favorite meant more to him than color meaning anyhow. They were partners, lovers, and best friends. Something like a rose color meaning was beyond where their relationship was. Riggs did things for her, not because protocol demanded it a certain way. Putting her first had always earned him excellent rewards too.

There was a strut in his step as he went to her quarters. Since they weren't married, they'd been assigned separate quarters. One of several reason Riggs might actually be thinking about popping the question. Wow, where did that come from. Yeah, she was worth it, but was she there yet. They'd never talked about it, so Riggs didn't know.

A quick knock on her door announced his arrival. The rose was held at his waist, and there was a smile on his face. Blue eyes twinkled as he waited for her to answer. It was precisely the time he said he'd arrive to pick her up. Riggs was always punctual, if not early. Tonight was going to be an excellent night of fancy drinks and dancing. They'd not had a date like this, well, ever.

[member="Alexandra Russo"]

 

[Liam Quez]

La Party, Near the Bar, looking good

Parties, I’ve never been to one really outside of anything family oriented. They were just things that I never really had access to, I mean who wanted to invite some uneducated farm boy? Who ever didn’t invite me to the parties back in the day, boy they were missing out! I rock these fancy clothes like a cool guy. It didn’t take me long to get ready, I had already been planning the outfit since I had received notice of the social party. I had joined the GA recently, after getting notice from Aela.

Adjusting the bowtie I wore so that it didn’t choke me the rest of the time I was there. My hands pulling on the light blazer as I checked out my hot self out. I was quite dapper and I couldn’t get any better than this…

Yeah, nothing can be better than the dapperness I was feeling. Though, the fact that I didn’t know anyone here...which kind of sucked. Also to top it off, the dude at the bar didn't’ believe I was old enough to drink so I was stuck with juice. I clung close to the bar, hopefully someone felt bad for me and decided to give me some of that liquid courage.
Because I really wanted one, come on...please?

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

Jacen did what he always did for these formal occasions. He spent at least an hour watching holonet videos on how to properly knot a bow tie whilst trying to do it in front of a mirror. All that effort, just so as the night wore on he could undo it and leave it hanging from his neck.

Without an official rank, he wore a straightforward tuxedo. Black buttons on his white shirt, of course. As he meandered up the path he thought on how the evening would go in the same way as every formal occasion Jacen had ever attended: either a blind drunk pile of soldiers, or an evening of standing around feeling awkward on his own.

Well someone settled in quickly, he thought to himself. Of course, Alen had been a General. His pension was probably worth several times more than all of Voidstalker’s worldly possessions. Oh dear, there were a lot of very important looking people here. It seemed option 2: awkward silence was on the cards for the evening.

Wait a minute, he thought doing a double-take. Was that the Danger Arcenau? His grandfather had migrated from Tatooine to Coruscant, where Jacen had grown up, but had since moved back. Jacen still visited family there frequently, and the Arcenau family was legendary. Damn. He was well out of his depth at this event. He barely knew anyone here, other than Alen, and as host he’d be occupied most of the time.

Jacen headed for drinks promptly. Maybe there'd be a nice Alliance junior officer around who couldn't handle her own drinks.

 

[Aran Finn]

"Master Roberts, your reputation precedes you." Ever the gracious host, Na'Varro smiled and offered a short bow in response. "I'd consider the price of the car payment for choosing the wrong side.."

It was that extreme level of self-confidence and assurance that meant he could never truly be a Jedi. All too often, it crossed the line into the realm of arrogance ... not without reason, however. Na'Varro had the experience, resume and skillset to back himself, and did it all too often. Arrogance was by no means his most prevalent quality, and he had more than a few redeeming ones to make up for it, but it would always be there lurking under the surface.

"Generally, the wrong side ends up being the one that I'm not on. It's good to see that you're not in the habit of repeating past mistakes." Alen flashed the Tetan a grin that suggested that he was joking ... slightly. "No honestly, nice to meet you outside of the battlespace. Welcome aboard."

Na'Varro turned towards his assembled guests and banged on the table in front of him with a wooden mallet three times. Bang bang bang! That would get their attention. The music ceased, and a sea of faces turned towards him. Some were more important than others. Others he didn't recognise, but was drawn to regardless. Amongst that sea, this is what Na'Varro saw, from left to right:

[member="Judah Dashiell"], CEO Salacia Consolidated (Na'Varro had read his file). [member="Danger Arceneau"], Queen of Trade, accompanied by a man who possibly could be [member="Alric Kuhn"], though Alen's file on him was very limited (he would introduce himself to them soon). Then there was Blonde Nerd, Redhead Diplomat, and Commander [member="Coren Starchaser"] (Alen's intel was a bit more thorough on this guy). There were two grizzled old dudes of interest that reminded Alen of himself, a blue-eyed pretty boy military type, one of Laura's little Brat Pack friends, and of course, old mate [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]. And then there was [member="Karen Roberts"] standing next to him. Everyone else was just background noise ... it was these people that Alen noticed that the evening hinged off. All of them had the potential to be great, or were great already. Na'Varro could feel it. It was these people who would make or break the Alliance.

Speech time.

"Welcome, friends, to my home." Na'Varro spoke confidently, his deep voice accented by the inflections of those of his homeworld, Ascension. "It warms the heart to see so many dedicated faces who have committed themselves to this galaxy's greatest hope. These are trying times. In order to grow, we will need to support each other. That is why I have invited you here tonight. This evening is about developing acquaintanceships and friendships that you can call upon later in life. We are making ourselves a support network that we can turn to when we need it."

"But we'll turn that thought aside for now. Instead, please, indulge yourselves in everything my house offers. Eat, drink, dance and be merry! Just don't take my holovision.."

That elicited a low chuckle from the guests. Na'Varro was no comedian, so that was the best he was going to muster.

"Have a good evening, and enjoy yourselves."

With that, he turned back to his guests.

[member="Liam Quez"] [member="Damon Riggs"] [member="Cyril Grayson"] [member="Kelly Perris"] [member="Mya Jesel"] [member="Spark Finn"]

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

"Your toes will be fine." Alric said as he lead her further into the building. "Probably."

He wasn't really ready to make assurances of that, though to be perfectly honest he had always been quite a good Dancer. That was what you got when you grew up as a noble. Years and years of training in how to act properly. It wasn't something that he had needed, wasn't something that he had wanted, but it had helped him throughout his dealings with other peoples and culture. He frowned slightly, shifting as the man addressed him and pointed out his former ties to the Sith.

To him, that had always been business.

Alric had dealt with the Sith, and truthfully he would deal with the Sith again if it benefited him enough. Now the Galactic Alliance was using his services, in part, but in the future that might change. Still, the statement made him feel a tad out of place within the room, though that feeling quickly went away as he felt a light squeeze on his arm from Danger, a small reassurance.

The Tetan shot her a small smile. "Alright, lets go get you a drink."

Alcohol for him likely wasn't a good idea.

 

[Chevu Visz]

As a child she'd been a handmaiden for a wealthy Arkanian senator, but having grown up around all of that sumptuous clothing did nothing to help Chevu get dressed for the Galactic Alliance black tie event at [member="Alen Na'Varro"]'s residence. Fashion sense had always eluded the young Mirialan. She only picked the strappy black dress because the color didn't clash ridiculously with her bright green skin. The fact that she was wearing high heels, and not stumbling around in them was another small victory. She'd even done her nails, a rich onyx black lacquer on thin green fingertips. How, girly of her.

Those fingers itched to hold a lightsaber or a blaster and not a tumbler of iced tonic water. With an abysmally low alcohol tolerance, drinking was simply out of the question for Chevu. Almost impossibly brown eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. There was Commander [member="Coren Starchaser"], with that charming crinkle around his eyes at he smiled. Another pan around the room revealed [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] and Master [member="Cyril Grayson"], who was teaching her Soresu. It seemed that you couldn't Force throw a stone at this event without hitting a Jedi Master of some sort. So many new names and faces; a fair number seemed to know each other from previous orders or missions. Chevu was curious about them all.

A younger man who looked to be a Padawan or young Knight struck her gaze. He was alone, just as she, and also wasn't drinking alcohol. At the very least, they could hang out and make fun of the drunkards together. She marched over to him and offered her hand to [member="Liam Quez"]

"Chevu Visz," the Mirialan said. "You look like you could use some company."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

Well that was interesting.

"Trying to liquor me up already?" She would joke. They both knew that out of both of them, Danger was the one who would come out the victor. However, it wasn't due to being able to hold her liquor. No, it more had to do with how ridiculously lightweight Alric was. Granted, something in his biochemistry made him allergic to the beverage, giving him an increased affinity to get drunk off a mere glass. The trait had carried over to Rose, if she understood correctly, only the consequences were far more severe.

The amble to the bar was a short one, but saw them making small introductions and greetings along the way. Most were for Alric, his return to the galaxy and his growing business with Vanir Tevhnoologies was the talk of Hydian Way. Some were curious at his presence, others were indulging making aquaintences.

Danger herself would make a few greetings and introductions. A cordial smile, a firm handshake, introduction of Alric, small talk. Rinse repeat a handful of times. Finally, they reached the bar, with the redhead leaning against it with an amused grin.

"I think the Ducha was quite enamored of you." She would trade, mirth dancing in her green eyes. She spoke of the Ducha of Galen, a minor noble who built her company on making the most out of the iommite mines she owned.

The barkeep drew near, dressed in a tux with bow tie included! Fancy that.

"Good evening, what may I serve you this eve?"

 

[Jsc]

Free Quotes
w [member="Alen Na'Varro"]

Karen pursed her lips as Master Na'Varro gave his happy speech. He was more king than freedom fighter. More lordling than rebel. A master and a commander both. Mm. But would he be a benevolent, charitable, and kind wizard? She wondered. Could he be trusted?

She looked out over the audience and nodded. Well. Maybe It didn't matter. That wasn't her place anymore. If these men and woman wanted to start over. Let them. Let the past lie. Tomorrow they would all have to prove themselves anew, anyways. Such was the price of revolution. Besides. Even an old dog can learn new tricks, can't he.

...

When Alen returned to the crowd she took the time to disengage with him,

"Excellent words Master Na'Varro. You have the shoulders of man with great perspective. I do pray that in the coming days we will all prove worthy of them. And of the Force."

She nodded and snapped her fingers again,

"Well. If you'll excuse me. I'm sure you have many guests to entertain. Force be with you. Until we meet again."

And with a short pause she took her leave of their noble host and migrated towards the ladies room.